It's my first SoonerCon...Be Gentle With Me, Ok?

Hah! Did you see what I did, there? A pun in the title, and I'm not even talking about the convention yet! Boom!

Okay, so, yeah.

This weekend I'll be at SoonerCon 21 along with Michael Golden, Peter S. Beagle, Eric Flint, and several hundred close personal friends, including A. Lee Martinez, Brad Denton, Caroline Specter, Ethan Nahte, Adrian Simmons, Rhonda Eudaley, and many others who I am surely forgetting at the moment.

I've never conventioned in Oklahoma, nor stayed there for more than twelve hours. Oklahoma City is, in fact, a lovely town, with lots to offer. It's definitely an oasis, surrounded by a lot of small and/or grimy towns. And I say this with some authority, for I have been to Lawton, and found it wanting.

That said, I am very excited about this convention and I'm looking forward to all of the frivolity that is sure to ensue. For those of you on the fence about whether or not to attend, or maybe you're thinking, "Hmmm, I wonder what Mark actually does at these things," well look no further. Here's my panel schedule:

Friday                      5PM       Comic Book to Movie/Book to Comic Book

 Saturday              10AM       Oh No!  It's MAINSTREAM

Saturday               12PM       Writing Realistic Humans

Saturday                 8PM       RADIO SHOW

Sunday                   9AM        Koffee Klatch Saturday

 Sunday                 12PM       Cryptozoology in Urban Myth:  Hate to Say It, We Need Bigfoot

Sunday                   1PM        Dinosaurs and Why the SF/F Community Loves Them 

Sunday                   2PM        AUTOGRAPHS

And For the record, I will have copies of RoadTrip and Dreams in the Fire for sale. If you have a copy of SCOUTS and you want me to sign it, bring that along, too. Heck, bring everything. I'll sign it however you like. You want a Frazetta autograph? No problem. Bob Kane? You betcha. Note: autographs not guaranteed to look like original.

Hope to see you in Oklahoma City this weekend. If you're at the con, please stop by and say hello. You now know where to find me.

By Way of an Apology, Howard Days 2012

I must begin this post with a big, fat "I'm sorry." I know, it's been a while, but seriously, I've been very busy. The burgeoning Jack Teagarden Museum project is ramping up and very soon, I'll have 2 1/2 jobs on my hands instead of my usual 1 1/2 jobs. Some things are going to get pushed to the side. But not this blog. I promise I'll send more out, even if it's just small updates.

Now, about this year's Howard Days...

Man, I love Texas.

I don't want to say that this year was the BEST HOWARD DAYS EVER because, in fact, every year they are great and steadily getting better. Which one is my favorite? The last one. Always is.

The annual gathering of Robert E. Howard fans, scholars, movers & shakers, and experts big and small has become more of a family reunion than anything else. So many of us are regulars and it's the only time we see each other, and we always make time to chitchat and catch up with matters inside and outside the arena of Howard Studies. The vibe is contagious amongst the old-timers: all are welcome. Even the few weirdos that we occasionally attract are conspicuous by their absence.

I don't quite know what it is that makes Howard Days so special. Maybe it's Cross Plains, Texas, itself that adds that perfect touch of homey charm and small town enthusiasm to the weekend. All of the locals are smiling and friendly and eager and willing to help in any way they can. They are always impressed by the folks who've traveled from far and wide to be there, and any foreign accents discovered are particularly exciting for all.

A Scot in Texas: Al contemplates the sunset.

I have to give a shout out here to Al Harron and his family. Al is one of the big fans in Howard Circles, operating a blog dedicated to same and is a regular presence at Conan.com. He's from Scotland (yes, THAT Scotland) and for the past three years, he's made the trip to Cross Plains for Howard Days. But that's not all. He has brought with him every year his mother, his aunt, and his granny. The Wyrd Sisters, they call themselves, and they are a Scottish force to be reckoned with. In Cross Plains, everyone loves them. They are such troopers, and always up for any adventure.

That's kinda what it's like. You walk up to the house, and everyone shouts your name like you're Norm from Cheers. And they all know your name. The regulars and the locals, the newcomers and the old guard. All you have to do is show up and you are immediately in the club. Because, let's face it, this is a deliberate destination. You can't just "swing by" on your way to somewhere else. You've got to intend to get there.

From my terrible vantage point, Charles Hoffman gives
his address at the banquet while Jason Momoa looks on.

For me, I have really come to rely on my second home ever since we moved to North Texas. It's one of the few places and times where I can go and let my hair down and just be myself.  As I told this year's guest of honor Charles Hoffman, "It's like, this is the only place where you can say out loud 'Isle of the Eons' and everyone instantly knows what you are talking about." I need that, frankly, as does just about any other serious geek/writer/artist/creative type/collector/gamer/superfan I know. You have to make time to be with your own.

Of course, I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy a certain amount of, shall we say, rarefied celebrity, that comes with me attending every year. Usually it's someone walking up to me, very nervous, and saying something that begins with, "Um, Mister Finn, I just wanted to tell you how much Blood & Thunder meant to me..." And yeah, it's very flattering, but I am also keenly aware that it's the only place I'll ever be treated with some measure of respect like that. Even still, it is flattering, and I try to put everyone at ease and take time to talk to them and include them in whatever else is going on. Basically, I try to do what Rusty Burke and Bill Cavalier did for me, about a thousand years ago at my first Howard Days in the mid 1990s.

Paul Herman, Barbara Barrett, and Rusty Burke
at the Glenn Lord  Remembrance Panel.

These days, there's panel discussions and all kinds of stuff to do in addition to touring the house and taking the guided tour of Howard's old stomping grounds. No one is ever bored, except for maybe the wives and girlfriends, but even they almost always get involved and have a good time, too. I've participated in my share of them, but for the last few years, they have been packed to the gills. It's rewarding to have these folks, most of whom I know personally, and who have contact information for me, come to hear what I have to say about, say, the enduring popularity of Conan or the fact that in the Golden Age of REH Criticism, we need a stronger and more aggressive academic presence to usher Howard into American Canon status.

Reconnecting with these folks is so very gratifying, as well. Paul M. Sammon is a good example of this. Paul is an author and film person with lots of credits to his name (go check out his book, Future Noir: The Making of Blade Runner--it's incredible). He actually worked on both Conan movies with Ahnold! Well, Paul's been a regular at REH Days since the Centennial and he's got great stories that he tells about working in the last gasp of pre-corporate Hollywood. Very well-read and knows his stuff; he's a real REH fan and at any other convention or show, he'd be mobbed by people wanting to talk to him about his arm-long list of credits. But here, every year, he's just Paul and he's one of the guys.

Jeff Shanks is one of the up-and-comers in the field of
Howard Studies. He and I have some great projects
in the works, too!

With all of us in one place, and with cold beverages being freely tipped, it's inevitable that business get discussed, plans hatched, and schemes started. It's how Dreams in the Fire came to be. It's how me and Chris Gruber ended up working on the Complete Boxing Stories project together. It's how I end up 'volunteering' for special projects. That conscription usually goes like this: Rusty Burke or Paul Herman will say, from across the pavilion, "Hey Finn, come here for a second." I always think they are going to offer me a beer. I am always wrong. But some of those projects end up becoming the very thing that people win awards for. Here's a complete list of this year's REH Foundation Award Winners. You'll find my name there too!

Shameless, I tell you. Sonya is a sucker for any man
who'll scratch her tummy. 

Over the years, I've brought nearly thirty newcomers to Howard Days, either to help them get their "uber-fanboy-nerd" on, or to explain why I'm the way I am. That Cathy and the dog are also welcome (and more, understanding of why I need to do this) is one of the thousand reasons why I married her in the first place. I've gotten close to a lot of people through this annual pilgrimage of mine. It's been my pleasure to get to know so many wonderful folks (as well as a few righteous assholes--but never enough to spoil the party) involved in Howard Days. I've also seen some of those friends fade away, drop out, and even die. It's been hard on me, every time something like that happens. But the rest of the family--my friends and colleagues in this small, weird little clique--keep me grounded, keep me energized, and keep me going on, looking forward, and are a constant reminder of the promise I made my fifteen year old self, to be a good writer, and to thank Robert E. Howard for showing me what that looked like.

To all of my friends, my fellow Howard Heads, and the wonderful people of Cross Plains, thank you for all of it. I can't wait for next year.

Some thoughts on the PCA/ACA conference

I'm on the mend from a particularly nasty upper respiratory infection, but I wanted to jot down a few thoughts about Boston and the PCA/ACA conference while it's fresh in my mind.

For those of you who don't know, the PCA/ACA conference stands for Pop Cultural Association/American Culture Association joint national annual get-together. There are regional meetings as well; the Southwestern meeting is usually in Albuquerque,  NM, but it sometimes makes it down to San Antonio, Texas. I went there last year, as the national conference was also at the site of the southwestern conference.

This year, the national conference was in Boston, Ma. A great city, a legendary city, a kind of mirror to New York in many ways; similar culture, architecture, history, etc. A great rivalry exists between them and it's easy to see why. It was certainly the most expensive PCA/ACA conference I've ever been to, from the air fare to the bill of fare, and all points in between. Looking ahead, I see it's not going to get any better, either, because next year's national conference is in Washington, D.C., a destination not exactly known for its inexpensive-ness. Two years from now: Chicago.  All of this begs a question from me: What exactly is the purpose of this annual get-together in the first place?

See, the PCA and the ACA started throwing annual conferences to give those academics in pop culture and American culture studies (two areas of academia that have been heretofore marginalized) their own place to present papers (thus adding to a person's c.v.) and meet up with and exchange ideas with other people working on the same area of interest as yourself. I would say that, at one time, maybe that was the case. But the higher ups have been courting these expensive, destination cities for several years now, and I contend that it's doing the people attending these conventions as huge disservice.

Granted, some of them are getting stipends and grants to go and present. But many more are grad students--and I know this because that's who I've been talking to for several years now--who are starving themselves so they can come present. (thus adding to their c.v.). Simply put: this convention doesn't need to be in a destination city. It needs to be in college towns. Let me explain the difference.

Destination cities are places like San Diego, where people usually put things like nursing and teaching conferences. These are the kinds of conferences where you're supposed to get ten hours of in-service training, so you sign up for the first two sessions on Monday, leaving your schedule wide open for Tuesday through Thursday so you can go see Seaworld and the like. The whole thing is written off by your institution because in-service training is in the budget, so who cares what it costs?

College towns are places like Columbus, Ohio, and Madison, Wisconsin, where there's enough infrastructure to support a big gathering, but not much else to do. Oh, there's bars galore, and cheap, delicious restaurants everywhere, because it's a college town, and there's usually a historic or a music or an arts district, but it's still reasonably priced, which is great, since the vast majority of the people at the conference are going to be hanging out together, talking and drinking and eating (and mostly talking and drinking).

That's the kind of conference the PCA/ACA is. It's a bar-con. Most everyone there is either presenting, or attending other presentations on similar topics. Since most everyone at the conference is staying close to the hotel, why on Earth would you make it a hotel that's twice the price of something in, say, Columbus? And because the conference was in a downtown location, in one of the worst traffic cities in the country, you were either stuck on foot or forced to take a cab to get anywhere interesting--more needless expense.Especially when we're all paying for the privilege of presenting a paper, and we have to not only pony up for the conference, but also pay for a membership into either the PCA or the ACA. Talk about a captive audience...

Oh, and another thing: If you are going to the trouble and expense to have George Takai as your keynote speaker, what the hell is the point of scheduling him in the middle of the day, during all of the other paper presentations? I know what the committee was probably thinking: "Well, he's going to be addressing G/B/L/TG issues, so SURELY not everyone in attendance will have a vested interest in that topic, right?" Yes, right, except for one thing: the person giving that talk played SULU ON STAR TREK!  You just dropped SULU into the biggest gathering of geeks on the Eastern Seaboard. What's wrong with you people?

If I seem a little tweaked about this, you may infer correctly that, yes, in fact, Takai's talk was scheduled opposite my session. Thanks, PCA/ACA! You're awesome. I'm not complaining about the lack of attendance in my session; just the opposite. But I guarantee you that my room would not have been full had it not been for the use of the word "Gorilla" in my paper title. That's the only thing that saved me, and I know this because I asked the crowd. But that's beside the point. I wanted to see Takai's talk. It was the deciding factor on whether or not I was going to attend in Boston this year. Well, the joke's on me.

 Maybe we're the ones doing it wrong. Maybe the pulp studies guys and the Game Theory guys and the Comic Book studies guys and all of the other groups I've talked to are just doing it wrong. Maybe we need to just walk in like gunslingers, present our paper during our session, and then slap leather for Fenway Park and spend the rest of the conference away from the nerds. But that's not what we want. We're all in the sessions, listening, critiquing, discussing, and in general interacting with our fellow fans, scholars, and academics. We go out for lunch or dinner, but we always seem to end up back in the bar, talking about books, things to write, angle to take, new stuff to consider--you know, what you'd expect to be discussed at an academic conference. As it stands right now, I know most of the pulp studies guys who have been active for the past two years won't have the budget to attend next year. What will the mean? Will the chairmen of the conference even care? I don't know. But I'm sick and tired of going to great cities, at great expense, that I cannot enjoy because I'm tied into the conference. It just feels like I'm paying for someone else's vacation.

An Update

Did I drop off the face of the Earth, or what? Well, no, not really. I just went into my rabbit hole and I've been typing like a fool. Most of the work I've pounded out this past four to six weeks has been paying gigs and deadline crunches. I find that I have real trouble trying to type chatty updates when someone is knocking on my door for work. I'm weird like that.

A couple of things I can announce:

I'm deep in the midst of working with Chris Gruber and Patrice Louinet on a four volume compilation of all of Robert E. Howard's boxing stories. Yeah, you read that right: four volumes. "Wait, Mark, hold on, I know you like, you know, this Sailor Steve Costigan character, but how in the world can there be four whole books of boxing stories when there were only three of Conan? And why haven't I heard about all of that boxing stuff before now?"

Ask L. Sprague de Camp. He's the one who promoted Conan to the heavens, casting huge shadows across the rest of Howard's work. Howard made consistent money writing humorous boxing stories, and later humorous westerns in the same vein, and this is a through line that runs across his entire career. This project will be major and significant.

Also, SCOUTS! is about to be out from Ape Entertainment. Those of you who know about this, who've ordered a copy from your local retailer, who intend to pick it up at one of the many stores that supports Ape Ent's comic (or my stuff)...I thank you from the bottom of my heart. And if you're one of those people who live near a comic shop that hasn't changed its wall stock in ten years, who still has Lady Death and Witchblade posters plastered everywhere, who doesn't carry kids comics because "kids don't shop here," my advice to you is to find another comic shop, because they aren't helping the industry, and they don't see the big picture, and they never will. Let them be the clubhouse that they are and find a real retailer who wants your business and runs his store like the same.

Finally, I'm working on a couple of secret projects. Writing wise, that is. I'll break them when I can. But in the meantime, thanks for sticking around, and don't forget to nudge me on Twitter or Facebook if I go too long without talking out loud.

Some Blood & Thunder-Related Bits

My buddy Ben Friberg, ace cameraman and all around very fine fellow, interviewed me in 2007 during Robert E. Howard Days in Cross Plains. He's working with the material for a larger project, but he released a couple of snippets for folks to enjoy. I think he asked some great questions, and I sound a little smarter than usual. If you're interested, you can see part one here:

And if you're really interested, you can view part two here:

And in other news, I got to see a sneak preview of the Barbarian Days documentary that I am featured in, along with Chris Gruber, Rusty Burke, Bill Cavalier, and a number of my fellow friends and fans. The movie looks great, and it's put together very well. There's one part of the documentary I wasn't happy with, but I kept reminding myself that it's not my movie. I thought the guys did a great job of splitting the difference between Cross Plains in general and the Robert E. Howard community in specific. Still no word yet on when it'll be out this year, but we'll let you know.

My 2012 ConDFW Panel Schedule

Hey Folks,

Here it is! For those of you in the MetroPlex area who want to know when Finn is coming into town, here's your answer. I'll be at the show until the wheels fall off. I have no other plans. Y'all should come by if you can. It's going to be a hoot and a holler. Especially the Friday night panel. We had a blast last year. And if you've never seen Troll 2...well, it's the new Plan Nine From Outer Space. That's all I'm saying.

FRIDAY

Signings:

6 pm – Gabrielle Faust, Mark Finn, A. Lee Martinez

Panel Room 1 - Warwick

9pm - Talking During the Movies -- Tommy vs. Trolls

Panelists: Mark Finn, Michael Ashleigh Finn, Anthony Brownrigg, Ren Hobt and anyone else willing to have fun!

In the hallowed halls of bad moviedom, there has arisen a conundrum. What is the best worst movie ever made? Tonight we screen two world-class contenders for the title. Congoers, prepare for glory!

The Room (2003) -- Tommy Wiseau's gift to the world, "The Room" is a movie that dares you to watch it. This modern masterpiece of crap defies easy description. Suffice to say, that while you may leave "The Room", "The Room" will never leave you.

Troll 2 (1991) -- We know what movie you really want to see this year. We know you're all chomping at the bit for The Hobbit. But wait! I sense fear, trepidation even. Will they do the source material justice? Will the Hobbit be as good as the trilogy? Are we in for massive disappointment? Fear not, my friends. For whatever the Hobbit maybe, it will be better than Troll 2. Perhaps the worst fantasy movie ever made, what more can you say about a movie called 'Troll 2' that has no trolls in it?

SATURDAY

Panel Room 2 - Manchester

11am - The Dangers of Self-Publishing

Panelists: P.N. Elrod (M), Lillian Stewart Carl, Bill Fawcett, Mark Finn, Melanie Fletcher

There are more and more dangers out there for the unwary prospective writer. From vanity book publishing to groups that disappear with your story rights, there needs to be a guide on what to look for when you want to sell yourself for fun and profit. Our panelists seek to do just that.

Panel Room 3 – Canterbury

4pm – Soaring Ships and Swashbuckling Sentients: Trends in Space Opera

Panelists: Ethan Nahte, Lee Martindale, William Ledbetter (M), Mark Finn

Once upon a time Science Fiction was just that – fiction that had a science flair to it. However, then the flair of super heroes came, with serialized adventures in pulp and cinema. And with the coming of John Carter of Mars to the big screen in all his SFX glory, the genre of Space Opera is poised to make a big comeback. Our panelists talk about where this is going, and what to look forward to in the future.

Panel Room 1 – Warwick

6pm – Raurgh! Zombies ate my brain! (And How YOU can avoid this fate!)

Panelists: Cherie Priest, Scott Padget, Chris Donahue (M), Mark Finn, John Manning

One of the first causes of the apocalypse that comes to mind (outside of high cholesterol) is the inevitable

zombie outbreak. Whether by a rogue comet, magic, or science gone wrong, zombies are entrenched in modern society’s mind. The question still remains, however – how do you survive the zombie outbreak? Is it necessary to own a number of weapons? Our resident survivologists spread the news. Programming Note: Survival is not guaranteed by attending this panel.

SUNDAY

Readings:

11 am – Julie Barrett, Paul Black, Mark Finn

Panel Room 3 – Canterbury

1pm – Don't Quit Your Day Job!

Panelists: Julie Barrett, Melanie Fletcher (M), Mark Finn, Rhonda Eudaly

A popular panel from last year, we bring the perennial topic back: what does one do to survive while waiting for

your big break? Our panelists share horror stories of what they had to do to survive, and offer advice on what

you can do as well.

Robert E. Howard's 106th birthday*

As someone who has now become somewhat inextricably tied to Robert E. Howard, the author from Texas who created Conan and so many other wonderful and engaging pulp stories, I feel like I should say something to mark the occasion of his birthday.

I've been involved in Howard Studies for a number of years and I frequently have to remind myself just how far REH (as we call him in print) has come as a popular culture figure. If you are wondering yourself what I'm talking about, go watch the REH mini-biography on the new Conan the Barbarian blu-ray. You'll probably watch it and go, "So? Yeah? Big deal. I know all of this stuff, Finn. What's your point?"

Then go watch the REH featurette on the FIRST Conan movie DVD, starring Schwarzenegger. Just compare the two and you'll see the differences, in shart contrast. You'll wonder why, for example, they let John Milius talk about Robert E. Howard as if he knew the man personally, when in fact he has had, and continues to not have, any ties to Howard or the Howard Studies community. He's just a ham hock of a director, flapping his big fat mouth, and getting it all wrong. 100% wrong.

That's not happening now. Paradox is maintaining Howard's image and biography, even as they continue to support the publishing effort. It's important to do both. There are millions of copies of the "Conan Saga," which is what we have come to call the 12-book paperback series that was put together by L. Sprague de Camp with the help of Lin Carter and Bjorn Nyborg. These books were the introduction to so many fans of REH, the character of Conan, and perhaps worst of all, de Camp's introductions regarding Howard from a biographical perspective. Oh, and of course, his assertion that there's no deep meaning to epic fantasy. It's all just good clean fun. Riiiiiiight.

Anyway, all of that junk is still out there. Those books get traded into Half-Price books and frequently don't last a week on the shelves before someone picks them up again. Gary Romeo, the greatest de Camp apologist of all, thinks it's funny that people like me keep bringing up de Camp. To be fair, he also complained that people weren't giving him enough credit when everyone was trying to freeze him out of the books. So, either way, he's going to kvetch.

But I want to be very clear here: the reason why I keep bringing him up is because I don't want people to forget what a horrible biographer de Camp was, and also what a petty little snark he could be whenever he talked about My Favorite Author. He never missed an opportunity whenever he had an audience to offer up a sideways kick or a backhanded compliment about Howard, usually a listing of all of Howard's faults as an author and as a human, followed with "but for all of that, he sure could write rousing action scenes, couldn't he?" This is the literary equivalent to telling your dance partner, "You know, for a fat chick, you sure don't sweat very much." It's damning with faint praise, and it has been the model for criticizing REH, well, ever since de Camp started doing it in the mid-1950s.

But that's changing now. The documentary on the new Conan dvd is huge. I know of at least two high profile anthologies coming out, one this year and one next year, with REH stories in them. It's only a matter of time before Howard becomes the next of the pulp-era authors to get folded into the American Literary Canon.It may take a few more years, and a few more people outside of the SF-F sub-culture to write favorable about him, but it's going to happen.

And there will always be a pop cultural, if not a cultural, presence for REH and his work. So the Conan movie didn't work out so good. Doesn't matter. Not really. The MMO is still going strong, and there's more and more publishing coming out. Another movie will get made. Hopefully closer to the source material. The message boards are active, and the fan base is healthy. As more and more of these fans discover or rediscover Howard's work, they are greeted with a very different picture of the author than merely "the brooding loner who wrote Conan."

I can't think of a better 106th* birthday present. Happy Birthday, Bob. Thanks for the words.

*Thanks to Damon over at the excellent Two-Gun Raconteur website for reminding me my count was off. It's 2012, not 2011, don't you know.

Advice for the 21st Century Virtual Critic

Last week, the Interwebs were aflame in a massive troll fight between some Young Adult authors and the people who read them--which can include thirteen year old girls, but doesn't always. The Book Pushers gave an amazingly succinct blow by blow recap of the entire kerfluffle as it played out across the social media platforms like a Jerry Springer stripper fight that meanders backstage and out across the audience before coming to rest in one of the chairs, held apart at arm's length by Steve.

What it basically boiled down to is this: a reader said some fairly insulting things about an author and his work. Other authors jumped in, saying to leave off the personal attacks, and oh yeah, yer mother, and it spiraled out of control from there.  But it touched upon something that I've had a serious problem with for some time now: there's no filter for the Internet. By that I mean that when some Mountain Dew-addled seventeen year old clicks through on a link to a movie trailer for a pop culture property they have no prior knowledge of, and right underneath the trailer is a blank space, fairly begging for a comment, there's nothing to prevent them, either internally or externally from typing "this sucks" and then going on their merry way. Nothing. When have seventeen year old kids ever had to be thoughtful and articulate?

But some of them have seen the value, or maybe just the cache, in being some kind of online presence or personality. And since everyone in cyberspace wants to participate in a global conversation, these Cyber-Pundits have popped up on places like You Tube, the Internet Movie Database, and Amazon. They are even called "reviewers" by some sites, and this may have lulled many of them into thinking that they are a critical voice that actually matters.

For every thoughtful, articulate, and cogent reviewer on Amazon, there are twenty sub-literate Howler monkeys with a grasp of English that can only be called Byzantine and not an iota of taste in their mouth, much less in their heads.

It's gotten so that I cannot even participate in these conversations anymore, if they ever were conversations in the first place. A conversation implies a give and take, back and forth. Website comment boxes are more like, "Step up to this line, and try to shout so that your voice is heard on the other side of the lake." As someone who has written reviews, and as someone who has been reviewed, I'm not trying to pick a new fight here. What I am saying is this: in a medium comprised entirely of words (emoticons have never counted), what you say and how you say it is everything. Period.

In other words, if you're just a reader who likes to say "It sucked" when you come across a book that didn't hold your interest with every sentence on the page, that's fine, I can't stop you. Just make it clear to me that you're that person, and not trying to influence other people with your post. Don't act like your screed is anything other than your subjective, biased, and scarcely nuanced opinion.  It's not a review. It's certainly not a review I can use, nor can anyone else--unless they feel like starting a little online slap-fight.

See, what makes a good reviewer good is his or her ability to write about a book, even one they didn't personally care for, in such a way that it doesn't scorch the Earth beneath it. Reviewers, like essayists, reporters, and even fiction writers, should have a viewpoint. That's how you not only connect with the people who want to know what you think (because they share your viewpoint) but you also make yourself useful to people who don't share your viewpoint by bringing up relevant criteria that can be used to make an informed opinion.

Example: Marc Savlov is a writer for the Austin Chronicle, and he's made it very clear throughout his decade and a half of movie reviews that he is a closet geek. He likes that stuff, but he's a little embarrassed to admit it. And so, he tends to be harder on X-Men movies than other people. Most genre movies, for that matter. So, when I read a Savlov review, I know I can automatically add one star to anything he writes about with lasers or dinosaurs or superheroes in it and that'll line up with my own tastes. Roger Ebert is another great example of someone whose tastes are out there, for everyone to see, and so you just know how to adjust whatever Ebert is saying to how you like your movies.

These guys have something else going for them: they are deeply knowledgeable. They don't talk about Blade Runner being the best film noir movie ever made because they've seen Out of the Past. When "new" film noir movies come out, Ebert weighs all of the other film noir movies against the new one and can talk about what worked and what didn't. And I trust him, because I've seen the books he's written.

If you're online, and you're not even using your real name, then guess what? You have to establish your credibility if you want to be a reviewer. It's okay to like weird movies, and it's even okay to champion new stuff as greater and better than everything before it. But you need to understand that classics are called classics because they are inarguably classics. I'm sorry if you haven't seen Raiders of the Lost Ark because it's like, 30 years old and stuff. But it's one of the most influential movies of the 20th century. If you haven't seen it, and can't spot the obvious swipes in some crummy action film, then guess what? You're not a credible reviewer, and anything else you say from that moment forward is suspect. In a nutshell, if you're going to wax intellectual, you'd better know your shit.

Finally, it is possible to say you hate a book without saying it sucks. It's actually pretty easy to do. All you have to do is add the phrase, "In my opinion," before you pronounce judgement, and then back up what you didn't like about the book--specifically. Was the language too garbled? Was the dialogue unbelievable? Was the plot contrived? Did it feel too much like "X" book or series? See, that's a valid thing to bring up. Some authors in fact make a point of trying to do their "Tolkien riff." If I'm a Tolkien fan, and I'm tired of re-reading The Hobbit, then your comments might actually help me, even as they are establishing your bona fides on your critical yardstick. But you shouldn't presume that the author is a terrible person, nor that the people that like their books are sub-literate chuckleheads. If you have that strong a reaction to a book, then clearly you were not the target audience. Moreover, how on Earth did you even think to pick up such a thing in the first place? You probably read an online review.

When I was a book seller (for years and years) I was called upon to give my opinion about books on a daily basis. Now, this can be tricky. If I tell someone about a book that I hated, that I think sucked, and I say it's the greatest thing ever, then that's a lie. And if they buy that book based on my lie, and hate the book, then guess what? I've lost all of my credibility.

Over the years, I learned the value of tact. It's perfectly okay to say to someone asking about, say, Henry Miller, that "I'm not the best person to ask for a recommendation. I don't personally care for him. I think he's a little too gimmicky." If they asked for more, I'd tell them what made Miller's writing more of a blog trick than actual prose. But I'd always end with, "But that's just me. Other folks here love Miller and can tell you why he's great." I'm not putting down anyone who likes Miller. I'm just explaining why I don't. See how that works? Let me say this out loud, so there can be no misunderstanding: if you're not capable of doing that every time you hit a movie, or book, or record that you don't like, then you're not going to be an effective critic. You're just going to be another nameless, faceless voice in an already crowded Internet yelling "IT SUCKS" from the other side of the lake.

Take a moment to decide if you're a reviewer, or if you're just a reader. If you want to be a reviewer, then you've got to be brilliant. Or gifted. Or both. But if you just want to be a reader, and just want to be able to say what you think, without all of that other stuff getting in the way, then make the effort to say what you mean and mean what you say. Use your words. You're a reader. You of all people should know the value of written communication.

For those of you who actually aspire to honing a critical reputation of some kind, well congratulations. You just became writers. And with that comes all of the things that every other writer on the planet needs to know. All of the rules. All of the perils and pitfalls. You are now just as accountable for the things you write (for little or no money) as the rest of us writers working for little or no money. Again, let me stress: choose your words carefully.

At least, that's what I think.

DAY THREE: The CWSB 30 Day Novel Challenge

I am on pace so far, but I feel I should warn some long time readers of me and San Cibola in general. Well, not warn, so much as explain.

I'm taking the San Cibola out of the Con-Dorks.

When I rework the first two books (with the intention of selling the three novels as a trilogy) I will be shortening the distance between the Con-Dorks and the Sisters by having all of the events take place in San Francisco and the Bay Area. So if some of the geography in this third book seems off, that's why.

But why am I doing this? It's simple, and a little sad, too. Without all of the other authors on hand to prop up San Cibola with their writing, the concept of a magical city with open secrets becomes harder for one book (or even a set of books) to maintain on its own. San Cib was a shared world, not just in that we were sharing the real estate as writers, but that you, as readers, were sharing the information about the place picked up from all of these stories. That's how the shared world operates.

So, for the purposes of, say, introducing the first Con-Dorks book, it's much easier as an author to say (and for you as a reader to buy into) "Okay, magic is real, and it's largely secret. Some folks know about it, and they are special. Most people don't know about it, and they are normal." If I don't have to further explain the world, this brand-new city, and how it all works to a new reader, then they can get involved in the story that much quicker.

So, If you have a copy of Gods New and Used, or if you liked the books when they were serialized on RevolutionSF, I recommend you hang on to them. When next they appear, they will be in a new form. It's almost as if the Blue Cutters got ahold of the books, but not really. I hope.

Oh, and for the rest of you following the contest: Insert obligatory Trash-Talk here.

The CWSB 30 Day Novel Challenge, circa 2012

No, you didn't misread that. I'm currently on day one of a thirty day novel challenge. You can read the details about the contest here at Major Spoilers, where the contest will be held.  Why am I doing this? Because there is something wrong with me. I've got enough on my plate already, but dammit, I'm overdue for this. I need--no, I want--the kickstart that this contest inevitably produces in me. It's essential for 2012, and I'm going to create early momentum.

But what about my existing commitments? I'm working on two things right now for other people, including a long-running writing project I'm doing with another author. Well, never let it be said that I'm not barking mad. I'm going to do this contest IN ADDITION to upholding my existing commitments! Yeah. No sleep 'til Brooklyn.

That means I'll be sending chapters to my co-author, for we have a deadline to hit this year. Also, I'll be turning in comic book script pages for SCOUTS! as well. Plus my weekly column in the local paper, and anything else coming down the pipeline, like old time radio scripts.

Am I crazy? Is there something wrong with me? You bet there is. But the nice thing is, if I crack up and explode, it'll be live and on the web for everyone to see. So, please follow along and keep up with what we're doing over at Major Spoilers. I'll be posting chapters over there, and offering commentary here. Lots to see and do and read in January. Looks like the start of a great 2012.

Thoughts About Glenn Lord

Glenn Lord outside the REH House.

All of us in Howard fandom knew that this day was coming, of course. Glenn had just celebrated his 80th birthday. It was going to happen, but as usual, none of us were really prepared for it. The King of Howard fandom passed away yesterday, December 31st, 2011, and his death puts a sad period on the already bad year that was 2011.

I don't know that I'll be able to talk about Glenn more eloquently than my friends and colleagues Rusty Burke, or Dennis McHaney, or any of the other folks who worked with him over the years like Damon Sasser, or Paul Herman. Those guys knew him well. I never got that close to Glenn. When I first met him, it was in the 1980s, at a Dallas Fantasy Fair, and he was in attendance along with L. Sprague de Camp. No, they weren't together by any stretch of the imagination, but I didn't know that.

I was young, and it was my first or second convention, ever, and I didn't know ANYTHING about Howard Studies, the long-standing feud between Lord and de Camp, or any of their history. I was just a wide-eyed fan. And I went up to him in a hallway while he was talking to another professional and, in my nervous, excited embarrassment, just started blurting out questions for him.  He stopped his conversation to answer me, but I could tell I had interrupted him, and put my foot in it. I hurriedly thanked him and went my way, a little wiser, but no less intimidated.

And that was my first meeting with the man who arguably changed my life.

See, if you've read any Robert E. Howard, and it wasn't Conan the Cimmerian, you have Glenn to thank for that. As the agent for the Howard estate, Glenn published and put publishing deals together from the late 1950s up to the 1990s. He tracked down Howard's poems and letters. He found the original typescripts and tear sheets for Howard's entire writing career. As a collector, he owns the vast majority of everything that REH wrote. But in his role as Howard's agent, he generously granted access to his collection in order to get Howard's work out there, into the world, for all of us to read and enjoy. Even when he was no longer the agent, he continued to help with the ongoing publishing efforts. That's the kind of guy Glenn was. He was the Source. He was the guy with the inside track, the little scrap of info, that one thing that you needed, and he gave without thinking.

Glenn and the REHupans in 2006. I'm easy to spot.

Years after that first meeting--decades, even--I got a do-over in Cross Plains. I have no doubt in my mind that Glenn did not remember the sixteen year old me, and I never took the pains to re-introduce myself to the man. We spoke often, whenever I had the chance to see him, really, and he was always gracious, kind, and after 2006, loved to tease me about the title of "Blood & Thunder," always calling it "Thud and Blunder" after the Poul Anderson article of the same name. I was flattered that Glenn knew who I was through my involvement with REHupa before I had the chance to work with him, however briefly, while writing Blood & Thunder. We spoke on the phone, and exchanged some emails, and sure enough, blammo, four days afterward, I got some xeroxes in the mail that were exactly what I was looking for. He is thanked in the acknowledgements of the book. Hell, he's thanked in pretty much all of them, really.

Glenn's passing leaves a chasm in Howard Studies that may not ever be filled. We may just have to find a new way forward, as our world has just been turned upside down. He has been a friend, a mentor, a father figure, and a project adviser for so long that I honestly expect everyone to take some time and try to re-think a Glenn-less world and our place in it.

This book was my game-changer.

There is one thing of which I am certain--in the last fifteen years or so, Howard fandom has gone to great lengths to show our appreciation and give our thanks to Glenn for being the first one, for getting it all together, and for showing us the way. His family, too, knew what he meant to all of us, and I think it's important that they all realized that this wasn't just some hobby for him, or an obsession. He touched and changed a lot of people through his publishing efforts. He published a lot of Howard's poetry at a time when it was scattered to the four winds. His first pubishing effort was a collection of some of Howard's poetry. He put forth a number of stories including the boxing tales of Sailor Steve Costigan, and later a collection of "Dennis Dorgan" stories that hooked me like no other REH writing did before or since.

What was your favorite? Solomon Kane? Kull? Breck Elkins? Dark Agnes? Cormac Fitzgeoffreies? Was it the Berkeley books with the Ken Kelly covers that first caught your eye? Or was it the Zebra paperbacks with the spiffy Jeff Jones covers? Hey, if you came to Howard from the Conan comics...that was Glenn. You see? He propped up the whole of Howard's catalog and made it available to us. He changed my life.

All of Howard fandom mourns today. We lost a mentor and a friend.

Rest in Peace, Glenn.
The Lamp Expires, but the Fire Remains

By Popular Request: Drunken Black Eyed Peas

My approach to black eyed peas is to treat them much like the rock in your favorite Stone Soup recipe. In order to make them work, you have to cook 'em with just about everything but a gym sock. So, this recipe is less a "follow the instructions" job, and more of a "go with whatever you have" kind of thing. For example, all men know that you can add bacon to this recipe. Just cook five or six strips until the fat is rendered, and then chop up the bacon and add it AND the drippings to your peas. If you didn't know that you could do that, then just step back slowly out of the kitchen. Everyone else, follow along and make your own modifications as we go.

Okay, you need:
1 package of dried black eyed peas
1 pound of sausage (sage is a nice touch)
1 medium onion, nicely diced
1 bell pepper, cored and seeded, also nicely diced
2-5 cloves of garlic, roughly chopped
1 box of chicken stock
1 bottle of your favorite beer (and use a real beer, okay? Something with flavor. Shiner Bock, or darker. Killian's Red or better. Get crazy. It's New Year's. Ditch Bud Light. You can't cook with it.)
1 bay leaf
salt and pepper to taste
2 tablespoons of butter or evoo

Prep: Soak the beans overnight in water. Do it. It's not hard. Just cover the beans with water, about 1 inch over. If you're one of those busy bodies in the kitchen, you can go ahead and do your dicing and chopping.

Start with a medium sized skillet. Add butter or evoo and heat over low to medium.

Add diced onions and bell peppers and get them sweating. when the veggies have become clear and tender, add the garlic and the sausage. Moosh up the sausage so that it browns evenly and break up all of the big clumps. You want browned sausage crumbles, here.

While that's browning, drain your peas, which should have doubled in size overnight. Make sure you've got no dirt or debris in the peas. Drop them into a stock pot or other large cooking vessel. Add the chicken stock, about 1/2 of the bottle of beer, the contents of the skillet, and bring to a boil.

Taste your broth. You should be able to taste the beer and the chicken stock. Salt and pepper the hell out of peas. Add a bay leaf and any other herbs or spices you might want to throw in. Rosemary and Thyme are great, especially fresh. Just chop up a couple of table spoons worth and add 'em in. If you like your BEP spicy, drop a chopped jalapeno or a cup of your favorite salsa in. Do it now, give it a good stirring to make sure that the peas and the stuff you really want to eat are all evenly dispersed and coated. Cover, and reduce heat to a simmer.

Keep this simmering for an hour. After one hour, lift the lid, take a whiff, and give it a taste. Are the peas tender? They should be firm, but not hard. Easily mushed. Get a couple of peas with the broth, some sausage, and some veggies. What does it need? More salt? Are you nuts? You put the Sargasso Sea in there earlier--okay, go for it, it's your dish. Put your final seasonings in (Chipotle Tabasco sauce, for the win)...and then continue to simmer, uncovered, stirring occasionally, for another thirty minutes. If the liquid gets low, add the rest of the beer. If the broth is too strong, cut it with water, a little at a time, until you get the consistency you like.

These peas can be served over white rice, as it is basically a Hoppin' John Recipe. They will keep overnight, and taste even better the next day because of science and chemistry.

You're welcome, America. Merry New Year!

On the Subject of the World Fantasy Award Statue…

 

I’ve been watching the recent discussions over redoing the World Fantasy Award statue, scrapping the iconic Gahan Wilson-designed bust of H.P. Lovecraft for something or someone less…controversial. Less bad. Less racist-y.

Nnedi Okorafor got the ball rolling with this blog post wherein she states:

 Do I want “The Howard” (the nickname for the World Fantasy Award statuette.   Lovecraft’s full name is “Howard Phillips Lovecraft”) replaced with the head of   some other great writer? Maybe. Maybe it’s about that time. Maybe not. What I  know I want it to face the history of this leg of literature rather than put it aside or  bury it. If this is how some of the great minds of speculative fiction felt, then let’s  deal with that... as opposed to never mention it or explain it away. If Lovecraft’s  likeness and name are to be used in connection to the World Fantasy Award, I think there should be some discourse about what it means to honor a talented  racist.

The Outer Alliance had some prescient thoughts here as well. And while both of the above seem to be calling for some sort of moderated discussion, the majority of the responses seem to be of the “Yeah, I never liked this guy because he’s a racist and a misogynist anyway!” variety. It feels like a lot of people in the SF/F community want to tar and feather Lovecraft, and moreover, have wanted to do so for some time. And changing the design of the statue is exactly the right message to send to all racists…or something…

I’m not here to pile on, and I’m also not here to throw stones. I truly don’t have a horse in this particular race. But I am confused especially when so many of my fellow authors and colleagues seem to be of one mind on the subject. I cannot help but wonder aloud if Lovecraft’s views on race are really what you take away from a reading of his works?

I mean, seriously: when you read “The Dunwich Horror,” do you put the book down and think, “Man, Lovecraft hated black people”? Is that the take-away message from reading his Cthulhu Mythos stories? Wait, before you answer that, consider a couple of recent opinions by people not necessarily so mired in the F/SF world. A few years ago, when Lovecraft finally cracked the Library of America series with a collection of stories selected by Peter Straub (and curiously, he chose not to include the poem "On the Creation of Niggers" in his book), a couple of reviewers weighed in on Lovecraft in the most recent round of criticism and commentary.

Daniel Handler, aka Lemony Snicket, wrote a review of the book wherein he said:

While the notion of an unseen world is hardly unique to Lovecraft -- fantasists from Coleridge to Rowling have enjoyed peeking under earthly rocks -- one can hardly imagine a universe more removed from our own than that of Cthulhu. Biologically impossible, logistically unplumbable and linguistically unpronounceable, it's a world that makes you want to lock up all the wardrobes rather than venturing inside them. It is little wonder that the scarred witnesses of Cthulhan excursions talk to us in language as unspeakably florid as the universe they're attempting to describe. Lovecraft's narrators are all desperate with misery, and it is worth quoting several of these hysterics as they begin their tales, to approximate the accumulated tone of so much hand-wringing.

Around the same time, Slate.com's Laura Miller dropped this little nugget of wisdom on the site:

There are two camps on the subject of the haunted bard of Providence, R.I., and his strange tales of cosmic terror. One, led by the late genre skeptic Edmund Wilson, dismisses him as an overwriting “hack” who purveyed “bad taste and bad art.” The other, led by Lovecraft scholar and biographer S.T. Joshi, hotly rises to Lovecraft’s defense as an artist of “philosophical and literary substance.”

 Miller goes on to say:

Perhaps the most curious thing about Lovecraft is that much of what aficionados love about his work is exactly those things his detractors list as faults. Take, for example, the fact that while Lovecraft is usually described as a forefather of modern horror fiction, his stories are, to put it bluntly, not very scary. 

I’m not saying that Lovecraft didn’t have his problems, and I’m sure not saying that Lovecraft’s own fears and prejudices weren’t consciously or unconsciously included in his Weird Tale fiction. I’m just suggesting that we’ve moved away from being a culture that allows other—and even repellent—points of view a place in the greater discourse to being a culture that wants to label anyone who ever said the word “nigger” a racist and then quickly bury them in a forgotten tomb so that their poison cannot infect other people.

This, to me, is socially retarded thinking. It’s this kind of thinking that would have the unmitigated gall to censure the word “nigger” from Huckleberry Finn. If ever there was a book that merited the use of the word for no other reason than the discussion it brings forth (never mind the fact that you’re love-knifing Mark Twain), it’s Huckleberry Finn. And yet, earlier this year, that blasphemous tome hit the shelves, no doubt to the delight of people who genuinely felt that they made the world a better place.

But back to Lovecraft. I first read him when I was 13 years old—and may I suggest that the best time to first read Lovecraft is during your teenage years? At a time when you cannot contemplate a world past what Sally Jo Finklestein thinks of the joke you made in math class today, having an author get into your head who’s message is one of entropy, decay, and the fact that humanity is so much a flyspeck in an uncaring universe can be both terrifying and liberating.

What it didn’t make me want to do was go beat up black people. Neither did Robert E. Howard, another writer frequently thrown under the bus for his beliefs. Ditto Edgar Rice Burroughs. Again, the take away for me was very different. Or maybe it wasn’t so different from everyone else. Once it was pointed out to me that Lovecraft was xenophobic, “The Horror at Red Hook” suddenly made perfect sense. Hand in hand with that was the more ubiquitous fear of miscenegation. Now the Deep Ones in “The Shadow Over Innsmouth” had a more sinister undertone—from Lovecraft’s point of view, that is.

Lovecraft was trying to scare us. And he tried to scare us with what scared him. But in the end, it wasn’t how he felt about blacks or Jews that lives on after his death. Don’t believe me? Google “Cthulhu merchandise.” Go on, I’ll wait. Now click on the “Images” tab. What just popped up on your screen? Plush, stuffed dolls? Dice bags? Games? Hats? Bumper stickers? Look closely at all of that merchandise and see if you can find the word “Nigger” on any of it. No, let me save you the trouble. You won’t.

Lovecraft’s legacy is not his views of anyone who was different from him. It was his magnum opus, “The Call of Cthulhu” and the pop culture juggernaut that it spawned. The word “Lovcraftian” has become synonymous with “a myriad of tentacles.”  Sure, we can read something into that, too, I suppose…but really, I find all of this knee-jerk tar and feathering a bit tedious, and moreover, a little insulting.

Jack London is still taught in schools across the country. White Fang and The Call of the Wild are standards in middle school. His short stories about boxing are considered classics.  And yet, Jack London was vocally and verbally opposed to a black heavyweight boxing champion, and wrote a number of articles that ran in Hearst newspapers across the country urging Jim Jeffries to come out of retirement and “wipe the golden smile off of Johnson’s face.”

And yet, no one is calling for London’s works to be pulled from the shelves. Wasn’t he, too, a racist? Of course, he wasn’t the only one, and certainly not in the first two decades of the twentieth century. He was merely stating in print what the vast majority of white men in this country already thought. He was, inarguably, of his time and place.  

Bottom line: the writers who survived the pulp jungles did so because there was something in their work that would not let it die. There was something about what they wrote that spoke to, and continues to speak to, new generations of people. There are bound to be some rough edges to the work. After all, we’re talking about material written before World War II, before the Nuremberg trials, before the introduction of The Great Society in 1964, before the inauguration of Barak Obama in 2008. It can seem far removed from our modern world, but it’s not. It was only 50 years ago that the Civil Rights Movement brought the idea of equal rights for blacks into the mainstream. In other words, my dad’s generation. We are not so far along as people think. But my question to you is this: will condemning pulp authors for racism move us further down that path?

I don’t know if this will add anything to the debate, or if I’m suddenly going to be called a racist for not agreeing that the statue needs to be changed. But if anyone wants to pile on, do so in the comments.