Appearances, Manifestations, Sightings, Infiltrations
and chances just to say "Hiya!"
November 3-6, 2005: World Fantasy Convention
Another excuse to go to Madison — and what a fine excuse! It's about time WFC discovered Madison. They will make a lovely pair!
November 11-13, 2005: WindyCon 32
Writers Workshop time again — and I hope to have my moderating "mojo" back this year. And I'll probably appear on a panel or two as well.
Oakton Community College's Alliance for Lifelong Learning
Short Story Writing Workshop — Tuesday nights from 7:00pm to 9:15pm for six weeks beginning September 27, 2005 at Glenbrook South High School, West Lake Ave. and Pfingston Rd., Glenview, Illinois. Expect something different this term — I've been working on a few new exercises for any writers having trouble getting started.
I'll be reading with a group of notable Chicago area genre writers at the Twilight Tales "Monster Bash" at the Red Lion Pub, October 31st 2005 (yes, that's Halloween). The Red Lion is located at 2446 N. Lincoln Ave. in Chicago, almost exactly across the street from the Biograph Theater. Things should get started there about 7:30pm.
I took Highway 12 up to Madison for OdysseyCon — a strange little trip under cover of night, driving through little towns like Whitewater and Columbus. Part of the reason was to see a little of "real" Wisconsin instead of taking the Interstate. The other reason was to protest Illinois' two-tiered tollway system (one toll for drivers with an I-Pass, double the fare for those without). I drove under a wonderful canopy of stars — the galaxy spread out above me, something you could never see from the Interstate.
I showed up at the Madison Radisson (aka the "Mad Rad") late Thursday night, which gave me some time to wander around the city Friday morning and afternoon. The weather was unseasonably warm and sunny. I took a walk in one of the parks along Lake Monona. It seemed a shame to spend the weekend indoors at a convention, but OdysseyCon has its own attractions and charms.
This year one of the best reasons to attend OddCon was the opportunity to meet Mr. Tim Powers, making a rare appearance in the Midwest. As you'd expect if you've read any of his books, Mr. Powers is an accomplished raconteur, with a seemingly inexhaustible supply of anecdotes and stories. One of the favorites of the audience on two occasions had to do with his encounter with a couple of Christian fundamentalist proselytizers who knocked at his door. Without giving away too much, the missionaries retreat after their bible innocently and inadvertently catches fire.
With the help of Jeannie Bergmann and Ruth and Jim Nichols, OddCon continued its tradition of a Saturday night poetry open mike, with the addition of very good filker who joined us with a number of songs and poems (forgive me for forgetting your name, if by chance you read this). James P. Roberts also joined us, mellifluously reading a number of his strange, delicate poems. Jim and Ruth added their renditions of a few songs, hinting at talents that would be better revealed at the upcoming WisCon (see below).
In the dealers room I managed to pick up a couple of gems which I barely remembered existed — two Ace Specials: The Island Under the Earth by Avram Davidson and After Things Fell Apart by Ron Goulart. I also picked up one of James Roberts' books on August Derleth, a Gris Grimley collection of nasty nursery rhymes and Tim Powers' Last Call. A small but enjoyable haul.
Again, Madison attracts a great bunch of fans — sharp, smart, well-read, friendly and ready to share their knowledge on almost any topic.
I drove back taking Route 14 down from Janesville, through miles of farmland and small towns until I reached Illinois, where the northern edge of the Chicago Megalopolis begins. Up to that point on 14, I often drove for miles with no other vehicles on the road. A trip back in time: the "Lost World" is still out there sometimes, right under our eyes but only occasionally visible.
I had a few tasks to accomplish at this year's Nebulas. There was quite a bit of daytime programming scheduled, and it was my job to host it all, including a discussion I tried to put together called "Chicago and the Architecture of the Future."
At one of the early planning meetings several of us were trying to come up with themes for programming that would be appropriate to Chicago. The first thing that came to my mind was architecture, since Chicago has so often been in the vanguard of where "the future of Architecture" seemed to be heading. I was doubly inspired by an exhibit that was currently on display at the Art Institute: "Chicago — 10 Visions." Ten architects, and their associates/students/colleagues, put together their presentations of what the future of Chicago and the future of Architecture would be like. It was an impressive, lively and challenging show and I wondered if some of the contributing architects would be interested in taking an hour to talk to a room of science fiction writers about the ways in which their visions of the future differed, where they might find common ground and perhaps both parties might learn a few things from the other.
My brother, an architect himself, helped me get in touch with some of the "10 Visions" visionaries.
Katerina Ruedi Ray, one of the contributing "10 Visions" architects, participated by speakerphone from Ohio, where she's charge of the Design School at Bowling Green State University; Her collaborator on her part of the exhibit, Igor Marjanovic, who teaches in Iowa, happened to be in the city and was kind enough to participate in person. We were also joined by Jorge E. Ramos-Herrera, who contributed one of the most eco-conscious presentations in the "10 Visions" exhibit. Both Igor and Jorge made great Power Point presentations and we had a rather lively discussion.
All we lacked was an audience of more than two people at any given time.
The panel was scheduled for 9am Friday morning — the only folks who were up and stirring were the ones heading out to Argonne and Fermilab on a Nebula "field trip."
It's a start. I think the notion of bringing architects and science fiction writers together to discuss the future is a good one. Someday I — or more likely someone else — will pull it off to greater success.
At some point I plan to write a longer piece about some of the ideas we discussed, my impressions of the "10 Visions" exhibit and where these various visions of the future might lead.
The rest of the daytime programming went off without a hitch, thanks to my "tech support" guy, Dave Iversen from Fermilab. Friday was a sort of "Science Friday," with speakers from the Oriental Institute (Emily Teeter), Adler Planetarium (Mark "The Hammer" Hammergren), Museum of Science and Industry (John Meyer) and NASA (Geoff Landis, in his capacity as a space scientist). Also on board Friday was comic collector and TV sf historian Joe Sarno and Indiana University Philosophy professor Lyle Zynda.
The night before, at the little pizza party SFWA staged as a mixer for local and non-local writers to meet (aka "SFWA in Chicago"), I had one of the great thrills of my life. Not only did I get to meet legendary folk singer Janis Ian, but I found out that she's a fan of my "saur" stories!!!
Later, it was Janis who introduced me to Anne McCaffrey — two legends in one night!!! I still find myself believing it was all a wonderful dream!
Friday night was also extraordinarily cool, since Del Rey books not only sponsored a reception for new Grand Master Anne McCaffrey, but since it was also Jack Williamson's birthday, we used the speaker phone from the architecture panel to call Jack at his home in New Mexico. Pres. Catherine Asaro wished him a happy birthday from all of us, and then all assembled sang "Happy Birthday" to him. Jack's response: "Sing it again!"
Saturday daytime programming was devoted to — cartoons? Sorry, but no — the SFWA business meeting and more writing-related program items — Bill Fawcett on markets, Stan Schmidt on self-editing, the "Big Three" of sf editing — Ellen Datlow, Gardner Dozois and Gordon Van Gelder — on the current state of short fiction. The programming finished off with a presentation on SFWA's circulating book program and special research collections in academic libraries by Lynne Thomas of Northern Illinois University.
All the writing-related panels were packed solid.
My second important task, of course, was Saturday night at the awards ceremony.
I presented the award for best short story, and it was a pleasure to hand the Nebula to Eileen Gunn, whose "Coming to Terms" was a wonderful, powerful story.
But before... I was mischievously inspired by Richard Bowes who told me once, before the Nebs in Philadelphia, that the great thing about being nominated is the moment after the presenter says "and the winnner is..." and before he or she gives the name of the winner. You can hold onto that moment and stretch it out, or fill in your own name. It's sort of a "zen" thing.
So when I got to the inevitable "And the winner is..." I gave the nominees an extra moment to savor that instant where "anything is possible." And another moment. And another... until charming MC Neil Gaiman gasped, "You're torturing them!" Which was probably true, but it was a "zen" kind of torture.
A few moments later I got to see Ellen Klages win a Nebula for her novelette, "Basement Magic," another story that I was quietly rooting for (among a ballot of really exceptional work — all the nominees were worthy, but Ellen's story touched me just a wee bit more).
Pam, due to another committment, was unable to attend the dinner and awards with me, but my "date" for the evening was the extraordinary visual artist Delphyne Joan Woods, a Hugo-winner when everyone knew her as Joan Hanke Woods. Always a wonderful conversationalist, she kept me amused and calm before I had to stand up before a roomful fo science fiction's great luminaries.
The banquet food was quite good and the ceremony was one of the most entertaining I've seen (disclaimer: this is just the third Nebula ceremony I've attended). It had all the requisite humor and pathos — a touching speech by Todd McCaffrey in honor of his mother's Grand Master designation, followed by Ms. McCaffrey's grandchildren showering her with "threads" (aka Silly String) to the audience's surprise and delight.
The presenters (other than myself) did a splendid job — especially Gene Wolfe, who couldn't help adding to the suspense by launching into a long story just before reading the name of the winner. If you thought I was torturing the nominees... here is the author of The Shadow of the Torturer — and he writes what he knows! His timing and delivery are sheer perfection. And, of course, every story he tells is absolutely true!
As the banquet started, I was called away to be interviewed by a documentary crew working on a film about local writer Wayne Allen Sallee. They asked me to describe Wayne and all I could think of (I had a cold and had already stopped by the bar) was the story Tim Powers told at OddCon about reading an interview with the great silent film actor Lon Chaney. Chaney was asked what was the most frightening thing he could imagine. According to Mr. Powers, Chaney replied that it would be waking at three in the morning to a knock at the door and answering it to find a clown waiting for him. "That's Wayne," I told the filmmakers. "He's the clown at three in the morning."
Wayne didn't seem to mind the description, and my apologies to Tim Powers for quoting his story. I know a couple of good Chaney stories myself, and he's welcome to use them if he isn't already familiar with them.
The Nebula Weekend was held in the Hotel Allegro, which for many years was known as the Bismarck Hotel — the site of all the big wheeling and dealing in Chicago Politics. Quite a bit of that old spirit still survives and was put to good use by Saturday night.
It may not have been a record turnout for the Nebs, but any weekend where you can spend time with Janis Ian, Anne McCaffrey, Gene and Rosemary Wolfe, Fred Pohl and Betty Anne Hull, Bill Fawcett and Jody Lynne Nye, Catherine Asaro, Diane Turnshek, Paul Melko, Eileen Gunn, Tina Jens, Lisa Rogers Lowrance, Roger Range, Gordon Van Gelder and Barbara Norton, David Hartwell, Mary Anne Mohanraj, Alex and Phyllis Eisenstein, Lee Martindale, Jane Jewell — add about fifty or sixty more names — is a weekend to remember.
Steven Silver and Jeff Liss did a wonderful job or bringing together all the can-do people in the Chicago area (another list too long for me to remember everyone) to bring off this wonderful event, one of the best weekends I've ever had.
And all of it right here in my home town!
I set out for Madison late Thursday afternoon — rush hour! I knew I wouldn't make it up to Wisconsin until late, but I had no idea how bad Route 14 could get. But again, the weather was warm and the sky was clear. I played CDs like Highway 61 Revisited, Burnt Weenie Sandwich and The Amazing Bud Powell. Farmland becomes Wonderland if you've got the right soundtrack.
After stopping at the Oasis in Janesville to say "Hiya!" to the concrete cow (they have a 12-foot tall concrete cow at the end of their parking lot) I made it to Madison by dusk, just in time to watch the sunset over their skyline.
I didn't have time to get to the pre-con GoH reading and dinner afterwards at Angelic Brewing Company. I just stopped at Clearwater's Saloon for quick sandwich and a Guinness. It's a good place to sit and watch the people walk along State Street — including the folks coming back from the reading and/or dinner. It was a little preview of the rest of the weekend.
Friday morning I had a workshop to moderate — A great selection of work by writers at all levels of skill, including Campbell Award nominee David D. Levine. The others — Rick Wren, April Lott, Magenta Griffith and David Engelstadt — did a wonderful job with their stories and critiques of each others' work. We worked well and we got it all done on time.
In recent years I've been feeling that I've lost my "workshop mojo" — that I was slacking out and losing my timing in workshop sessions. The ideal, of course, is to have the workshop work all around you while you sit there and quietly make sure that the focus doesn't float off into tangents (it's a zen kind of thing). Of course, this works best when you have the best participants in your workshop session. In this case I was blessed with the two Davids, April, Magenta and Rick. My gratitude goes out to you. I've got my mojo working again — I think.
As usual, the con sprang for lunch for the moderators, which gave me a chance to talk to the workshops participants in a more informal atmosphere — a favorite part for me.
Many thanks to workshop organizer Lori Selke for thinking of me once again.
At "The Gathering" in the afternoon, I ran into Trey Thoelcke and his family. We had dinner at the noodle place — the unofficial "noodle place" of WisCon, where everyone ends up eventually.
On the culinary beat, I didn't make it to the relocated Dotty Dumpling's Dowry (great hamburger joint) or, on the other end of the scale, to L'Etoile (one of the finest French restaurants in the Midwest) that weekend, but I finally made it to Nick's Restaurant for breakfast Sunday morning. Nick's looks a dive bar from the outside, but it has an unpretentious meat-and-potatoes menu, which provides a good contrast during a weekend where one may find oneself at a series of pasta places, microbreweries and exotic cuisines. Nick's also has a somewhat legendary status as meeting place for Madison fandom.
The opening ceremonies included the talents of my friends Ruth and Jim Nichols, who wrote and performed in a great extended skit, "How to Succeed at Fandom Without Really Trying." Both Ruth and Jim got to sing, and it seemed that the audience was as charmed and amused by the whole production as I was. Jim was still autographing copies of the program at the Monday "Sign Out."
I had a late panel on Friday, all about women in sf/horror films of the 1950s. Eric Heidemann, as he ususally does, came well-prepared with a list of actresses and films — everyone from Patricia Neal to Carolyn Jones. But as I looked at the list, I noticed to my surprise that Beverly Garland was missing! What? The woman who kicked the "It" of It Conquered the World — not on the list? The woman who battled the "Not" of Not of this Earth! Not of this list? Well! That underscored my mission on the panel: to make sure the legacy of Beverly Garland would not be forgotten! I could also include the work of Lori Nelson and Susan Cabot — and all the young, hard-working actors who belonged to the Roger Corman stable in the 50s. I was also surprised that Eric's list did not include the films that Ray Harryhausen made so memorable in that period, but perhaps that will be the subject of a later panel — "The Women of Ray Harryhausen's Classic Films of the 1950s." Just a thought.
Saturday, Jim and Ruth Nichols, Jeannie Bergmann and James Roberts improvised an open mike poetry reading, which attracted a number of younger writers who read some great work. It also allowed me the pleasure and privilege to meet frequent F&SF contributor Yoon Ha Lee, who seemed to get a kick out of my reading "Rich and Pam Go to Fermilab and Later See a Dead Man."
My other two panels were both a joy — "Pauses" covered the territory that's usually described as "Writer's Block," or writers who take a deliberate break in their careers to do something else. Susan Palwick and Amy Axt Hanson were on the panel with me, and even though we were playing against the Tiptree Auction and a dozen cool parties getting started on the 6th floor, we filled the room. It was a great audience whose comments and questions were spot-on! Seventy-five minutes went like fifteen and there wasn't a moment when the pace lagged.
Likewise, my Monday morning panel, "Short Stories vs Novels," packed the room. I had two of the best short story writers in the field (correction: two of the best short story writers working today, period): Eileen Gunn and Carol Emshwiller. And I had Leah Rose Cutter, a capable novelist who also labors in the fields of short fiction. And again, the audience was packed solid with sharp people who asked fascinating questions and made very pertinenent comments.
One interesting theme came out of both panels: as a writer, you have to find your own path, creatively and professionally. You can predict and follow a certain path to a certain kind of professional success, but is that the kind of "professional success" that you want? Will you be writing the kind of things you really want to write, or only the things you know will sell?
Very often, on writing panels and in some workshops, there is some talk about "craft," much less talk about "art," and most of the time devoted to "trade." At WisCon, the emphasis is very often reversed, which I find encouraging. If writing in the "imaginative" genres is to remain vibrant, the "trade" has to remain responsive to the writers more so than the other way around.
When I go to events like OddCon, WisCon and the Nebs, my enthusiasm for the field, the genre and for literature are revived.
I also need to thank the young woman who gave me a tiny bead dinosaur attached to an earring hook. I don't have a piercing, so I hooked the little guy to my ID badge lanyard and wore it all weekend. I'll bring it along to my next con too. Again, my thanks, and thanks for remembering me.
This summer has been a swelterer, and I don't work well in the heat (in fact, it's me who usually gets hot — my body temperature actually goes up when I write). I've been moving very slowly to conserve energy and alas, haven't been able to attend some of the cons I planned to visit this year.
Pam and I have also suffered some setbacks — her stepmother passed away in the spring and my uncle passed away in July. I plan to dedicate my next saur story to them — a thing called "Orfy" at the moment.
I know there are a number of people waiting for this story — and the one to follow, and the one to follow that one. It's not the most efficient way to work, but I've found that I write very much like I drive: I don't always take the most direct route, I'm occasionally distracted by what I find along the way, and sometimes I get out-and-out lost. But eventually I end up where I'm headed and sometimes I find something even better.
Hang in there, and thanks.