Andrew Hiller's Blog, page 3

Hopping off the Writing Carousel

Story ideas often pelt at me like rain drops during a spring shower. They cluster on my forehead and fingers, accumulating in a slick that cools or shivers. Sometimes, I skip through the storm to jump in their puddles. Other times, I dash towards shelter with my head bowed. You can get blinded by a flurry of ideas striking you, especially when each one demands attention.

Pick me! Pick me!

Having a wealth of stories is not always the best problem to have. I rather prefer the hailstorm or the blizzard. The idea that buries you… that accumulates so fast and hard that ignoring it proves impossible. The idea that builds, one flake upon the other, gathering in the restlessness when one tries to go to sleep and haunts you upon waking. The one that traps you and presses against you. That you need two hands and a shovel for and elevates your heartrate. The one that you risk hurting your back for.

Still, that’s not where I was.

In October, my story folder plumped up. Ten, twenty stories high. Each one filled with curiosity and chuckles, but none torrential enough to hold my attention or powerful enough to dissuade me from checking out what lurked in the next row of the candy aisle. Oh, I was drenched with ideas. My bag of Halloween treats overflowed.  But all these stories led to paralysis. They clambered onto my back with loose grips. They were too easily thrown off even though they lurked around the corners, whispering, “Remember me?”

I stood unable to commit. How do you choose among your children? If you can only play with one which one are you willing to disappoint?

The answer it turns out was to turn the responsibility over.

At a write-in, I confessed to Liza and Emily my problem and asked which to pick my next project. Without hesitation, Liza said, “The really weird one… the first contact one!” Emily nodded. Earlier, another peer and colleague, Phil, had told me that I was mistaken about that very story. See, I thought it was a short story. I had wanted it to be a short story. He disagreed, insisting there was too much good stuff already built in and that I could never explore it all in four or five thousand words. I could never do the story justice as a short story.

He was probably right. By that time, my “short story” had already grown to eight thousand words. A bit hefty even if I tried to aggressively prune it with my red-line shears.

So, with the story chosen for me, I looked up into the rain and challenged the sprinkle to do its worst. I reread what I scribbled, editing a bit as I went, gripped my galoshes and tightened my overcoat. I willed the shower to become a tsunami.

And the dam burst.

I wrote like a fiend. In less than three weeks, I pounded out fifty thousand words. I took a two day break to line some sandbags and buy provisions, but then squinting at the lighthouse, hydroplaned through another ten thousand words.

When I blinked the water clear, what stood before me was the finished first draft of a novel.

Oh, I still have plenty of horses on the carousel to ride, but thanks to my friend the next novel is done… well, except for the editing J

Wanderling’s Choice

It’s always difficult to review a friend’s book. Do you read it with the same eye as you do other novels? Are you more critical? More forgiving? I’m struggling a little with what I want to say about McLaughlin’s novella.

McLaughlin calls this book “Beauty and the Beast, but with dragons.” I think it’s a bit more than that.

At it’s heart, Wanderling’s Choice is an enjoyably easy, quick read. It plays with the idea of possession in an interesting way, both concepts of physical possession and spiritual. The main character is engaging and likable. The author’s love of horses and her knowledge of them are clear. On occasion, the language gets a little clunky and I think readers will enjoy the book best if they skip the prologue, but the sweep…

More at Goodreads

Death of a Bookstore: An Homage

As I walked down the sidewalk of downtown Bethesda today, I noticed the darkened Barnes & Nobles. The behemoth keystone to the community of shops, restaurants, and cinemas fell. It startled me. It was a place I always stepped into to go and smell the roses. Now admittedly I'm more of an indie bookstore and used bookstore kind of guy, but I've held my share of meetings there, killed time in its coffee shop, and grazed along the stacks for years. I've found treasure there. I've researched trips and found the answers to literary puzzles there. I've left with bags full and hands empty. So, I feel like Bethesda lost more than a retailer. It lost some of its charm and nobility.

You may question an homage to a Barnes and Noble store, but the loss of any bookstore is a sad thing. The death of a community hub weakens us. Though a mega-book store and a retail monster, it was also an intimate series of nooks and cafe tables. It was a place of readings and art, and a a place well-suited for catching up, hugs, and a shared laugh.

Selfishly, I admit this branch held a particular place in my heart. They were the first outlet that ever invited me to exhibit my illustrations. It became a place for Choo Choo, A Composition for Shoemaker, and Mama Dragon. I remember the pride of being a young adult, hiding in the stacks to see people pause and smile at my work.

As an author now, I'd always wanted to have a reading there. Imagine a neighborhood crowd assembling to hear A Halo of Mushrooms, A Climbing Stock, or some future work. Imagine going out afterwards to celebrate the triumph. As I look through the darkened windows, I realize that will never happen.

We've lost too many bookstores in recent years... too many places that smell of pulp and crisp ideas.

A closed bookstore is the opposite of a blank page. It is also the opposite turning that final page in a book. Perhaps, these places are dinosaurs, but there is something about tracing a line of spines, flipping through an unexpected title, or finding a kindred soul reaching for a book you love or desire. Book stores, like writing itself, are not solitary things. They're a collection of people, ideas, memories, histories, debates, laughs, tears, and creased pages.

Barnes and Noble opened its Bethesda branch in 1997. That means that brick and mortar joint was only one year away from legally toasting itself. It fell just short, but it still served a served a community for a generation. For that, it deserves a gold watch or at least a wistful nod and a momentary pause to read the quotes it engraved onto its stonework. Goodbye B&N. Thanks for the good reads.

An Artist's Place

A prevailing wind that many authors and artists must navigate these days is the notion that they should shut up and entertain... that art should not be political or delve into sociological concerns.

In wrestling with this, I think about the popularity of the Little Rascals and Shirley Temple during the Great Depression. The need to escape and to laugh is profound. I get that. After all, I've chosen fantasy, science fiction, and humor as the major outlets for my prose. In addition, I think popcorn can have great value. For example, after going to the Holocaust Museum for the first time I fled as fast as I could to see the stupidist, dumbist, most innocent, and funny movie I could find.

So, there is a value to escape, to silliness, to empty, to vacuous, and to the frilly, and fluffy.

That said, all of it comes with a point. None of it is as empty as it seems. Remember, only the court jester/the fool was allowed to tell the king the truth. That humor mixed with satire was intended to impart warnings and sage advice.

Nothing is made without a message.

On a simpler level, none of us live in a vacuum. What artists and authors create stems from a source. It is carved from our experience, philosophy, culture, education, and a couple of other factors.

So, everything written has a point. Even the silliest bit of slapstick comes from a reaction to something. Perhaps, the kernel of the story is in response to a break up, a news story, a tragedy, or even the most wonderful of surprises. Just as likely the creation is made so that the author can in his medium debate, wrestle with, or contest something that causes them pain or confusion.

Writing can be the artist working through a problem. Tolkien's Lord of the Ring is believed not to be a grand work of escapism, but the author's attempt to reconcile what he experienced in World War I with his Christianity.

Art is supposed to have a point. It's unavoidable. More, it's useful. Why else would we have developed language if not to communicate ideas? The earliest stories are rife with morals... or stories with a point.

If you read a story about pointlessness that in itself carries a profound message. Our stories are not monologues. The best art is the opening to conversation. The idea is to engage. The relationship between an artist and their audience is one of give and take not. Your feedback, interpretation, and argument carries weight.

The debate matters.

We may disagree with the point, the artist's point may be baseless or even wrong, but it's important that ideas are voiced. I This idea that artists should laugh is hurtful... not to the artist, but society. Similarly, this dismissive use of "fake news," best translated as "news that is critical," is a horrific idea because the more we fear to express our ideas the less we will be able to do.

So, writers write. Artists paint, draw, sculpt, and create. Singers harmonize and create dissonance. Let's celebrate that we are free to express ideas. Let's then debate the merit of these ideas as readers, viewers, and listeners.

Let's not try to suffocate ideas. After all, burning the book never leads anywhere good.

The Best Books I read in 2017

The notion of a “Best Books” list annoys me. How is it possible to have read, reviewed, or be even aware of every book out there? On Goodreads, I reviewed forty-five books this year. That’s a lot of books! In addition, I’ve probably thumbed through a few dozen others for work, research, etc. Still, that number is woefully inadequate compared to the universe of books published in 2017. That said, there is value in saying, “These are books I really enjoyed or found useful.” because finding a great novel often requires following a largely grass roots route. I depend on friends, peers, co-workers, my nose, and the wonderful reviewers on Goodreads, blogs, etc. to help chart my course.

So, this is by no means a Best Books list for 2017. In fact, some of these books were not even published in 2017. They are though some of the books this year that made me laugh, think, cry, wonder, and helped stop the world for a moment.

These really are in no order.

Doc by Maria Doria Russell


This lovely and well-researched historical fiction tracks the life of Doc Holliday. It illuminates both well-known characters and figures that have long deserved to have their contributions sung about. It’s not a gaudy adventure or a bloody western, but a smart book. At its best, it paints a captivating picture of the times while using only realistic hues, textures, and strokes.

City of Stairs Trilogy by Russell Bennett



This is a really great trilogy. It’s also an interesting one in that each of its three books are a bit different. Book one celebrates world building and engineered history. Characters and plot take a backseat to the amazing world being crafted. From one angle, it’s really a political mystery masquerading as fantasy. Book II is a wonderful character-driven story. The hero of the novel is not the hero of the first book. In fact, we never even see that book’s champion. Book III delivers an adventure book that may hide a morality play. It certainly wrestles with philosophy and the nature and place of gods, men, time, darkness, etc. One note. I felt book three was a little overwritten and some of the dialogue got clunky. I think that’s because Bennett wanted to make sure every word was perfect and had meaning. Overall though, this really was a great trilogy with a satisfying conclusion.

Dodger by Terry Pratchett


Dodger tells the true story of Oliver Twist’s Artful Dodger except that it’s wholly made up. I guess it’s what should have been the true story of the Artful Dodger. The feel of 19th Century London is wonderful, the mystery is sufficiently complex and gripping, and the hero/cast is a good one. This one’s a romp though not as silly as many of Pratchett’s other works. It should be noted that I was on my way to be the literary Guest of Honor at a comic con for the first time while listening to it as an audio book and that may have put me in a pretty receptive mood.

Every Kingdom Divided by Stephen Kozeniewski


It’s always dangerous to read a friend’s book… even if they only became a friend because you were accidentally placed as neighbors at Shore Leave Con. I admit with a little bit of shame that it took me a while to read one of Stephen’s books. That’s because he’s primarily a horror writer and I don’t love the genre. Every Kingdom though is dystopia. Better, it was a really well told story with good characterizations, an interesting plot, some wonderful humor, and great pacing. There’s a gimmick that Kozeniewski overuses, but that’s not enough to diminish a book that works so well both as an escapist journey and a bit of dystopian satire.

Bone Universe Trilogy by Fran Wilde


It’s rare that my enjoyment of a trilogy improves with each successive book. That happened here. Book I was a pretty cool bit of political intrigue, but it was mostly about building the world and society. The story became richer by Book II, but by Book III, it really soared (which is pretty ironic consider that the characters spend much of the time grounded). What I loved about Book III was that it was a story of little moments and tiny heroisms. I also fancied the clever use of music. If beauty can be found in the tiniest of details, than Bone Universe is a beautiful trilogy.

Choosing the “best” even when you are only selecting among fifty or so is still a challenge. There are so many others that deserve a nod. I really enjoyed The Waking Fire as a pure epic fantasy, Strange the Dreamer for its beautiful lyricism, Caught for its inventiveness and the way Weech paints action scenes, and nonfiction works like Voor Elise for its ability to unfold some of our most important historical events through a touching family story.

What were some of your favorites this year? I’d love to hear. After all, I’m on the hunt. I plan to do a lot of writing this year, but you have to make time for great books! As for the other books I read this year… the main reason I don’t like lists in general is that I always forget at least one that desperately deserves inclusion. To that novel and that author… know you are cherished.

Succeeding at a SFF/Comic Con as an Indie or Small Press Author

For two years, I've been attending SFF and Comic Cons as an author. I've hit up about fifteen and at some have done better and some worse, but I always left with a profit. That has astounded several of my peers, including ones with names much bigger than mine, so, I thought I'd discuss what I discovered.

The Table Your table should look neat, clean, and serious, but not too corporate. People who come to Cons are looking to interact with artists and author. Your first impression shouldn't be Fortune 500, but something a little cooler.

The basics include dressing your table with a tablecloth (most Cons provide this), displaying a book/author banner, and figuring out a pleasing arrangement that makes it easy for you to hand your book to the reader, but also makes it easy for them to approach it.

You can go beyond the basics. Some people dress their table with figurines, cards, crystals, etc. I put out a laminated oversized sheet of endorsements from authors and Goodreads reviewers. Plus, some CDs and artwork.

Your table looks represents how you want to be perceived. Balance is key. You don't want an empty table, but you also don't want one that's overwhelming. Some tables look like a van just dumped a crateload of books on it. It makes the table look like a used book store and while I love used bookstores... the pile seems to inspire either avoidance or a desire for deep discounts.

My basic table is probably a little overcluttered, but everything is in its section and no piece steps on the toes of another. Each piece is there for a purpose and guests find only a few of each piece displayed.

Eye Contact It sounds pretty obvious, but you'd be amazed at how many authors fail at this. When anchored to your table engage when you receive one of two types of eye contact. The first is eye contact with you and the second is eye contact with your stuff. If they slow say "Hi," invite them to visit your table. You'd be surprised, but many Con Goers feel like they're intruding and so keep that window shopping distance. It's often a comment that brings them in because they want to feel welcomed. Eye contact and a smile is a good start.

If they ignore you or move on don't pursue. Let them wander. Remember, this weekend is more about them than us. They're there to have fun, escape, collect, and revel. No one wants a hard sell. Chances are... you don't want to be a hard seller.

Chat It's not just about your books. It's about engaging.

Find out what your guest likes to read. Point them to authors who might be a better fit, tell them about books you like in their genre. Talk craft. Ask them about the cool panels and shows they've seen that you missed out on being anchored to your table.

Share a piece of yourself You never know what makes a connection. It might be writer's craft, backstory, cool trivia. Tell stories. You're a writer, if they hear you share a fun story well-told they'll know you can spin a good story. Leave room for them in the story. They're not your audience, but folks your are chatting with.

That said, be real. Don't be a con at a Con.

The Elevator Pitch Hopefully, someone will start asking you about your book. Be able to tease it. Prepare a thirty second (or less) sketch of why your story is fun, exciting, romantic, scary, etc. Find out what it is in your writing that appeals to your audience and let them know it's there, but also let them know that yours isn't a cookie cutter piece (unless it is) that mirrors a hundred others.

One great thing about Cons is you get to see how people react to your pitch. Improvise based on what you see. They'll tell you what's working and what's not. Edit as you go.

Also, while chatting about your story, hand it to them. Invite them to flip through your book. No one knows if a book is worth reading without reading it.

Join Panels and be active. The more credible you seem, the more fun you seem, the more they will hunt you out. Remember, as a small fish author, readers are taking a chance on you. Do they choose you or the Hugo winner? Give them every reason to believe that risk will be rewarded.

Go beyond the book. Not everyone can do this, but one reason I've always done well at SFF Comic Cons is because I bring more than one product. I have my books, but I also bring CDs of my radio work with the Muppets as well as some of my paintings and associated refrigerator magnets. I don't have something for everyone, but I have lots of eye candy. If something on my table makes them laugh I ask them which piece. Who doesn't like sharing a laugh?

On my table, each object connects to the others. The one-liners and jokes on the magnets offer an insight to my sense of humor. If I can make them laugh with a magnet, my books might provide them enjoyment too. The CDs vet me. If I worked with the Muppets or NPR, someone pretty established believed in my writing and so maybe they can too.

Most importantly, Have a good time Con Goers are there to enjoy themselves. You should too. If you look mopey, if you are texting on your phone or tapping on your laptop, if you constantly fret about making the table, people will sense that. They are there because they love fantasy not tragedy! So, enjoy the cosplay, smile at their stories, share the common love of the genre you share. Remember how cool it is that you get to take part in an event like a Con (and it is cool). Find reasons to laugh.

Be Generous Your tablemates are your partners and not your competitors. Root for them, help them out, chat with them too. Be thankful to the person who picks up your book and not just the person who buys it. Praise other peoples' work.

Remember, there's a universe of books out there and most peoples' bookshelves are pretty full. Worse, their money is finite. The fact that they find your book worth a look is a compliment.

Be Kind. The golden rule is golden for a reason. At every Con, you will find a person who wants to visit and chat. They will stay at your table for ten or fifteen minutes without any intention of purchasing. Sometimes, you will even meet Creepy Con Guy. Find a way to disengage while being kind.

On the brighter side, be kind to the child whose amazed that she gets to meet an author. Remember what it was like when you were that young and got to meet someone "famous." The Con floor is no place to be a Diva or be rude. You're there to do business, but also to be part of every Con Goers great escape. Be kind to everyone. It's a small world and you never know who someone is or who knows someone. Besides, it's just the better way to go.

I hope your Con experience is a good one. Lots of authors lose money at Cons or sell very few books. Remember to profit not just in money, but experiences, networking opportunities, etc.

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Well, that's it for now. If there's something you do that works or something you've seen that doesn't... let me know. I'm still learning, I'm still swimming upstream, but I have gotten to the point where every Con I go to I see a few familiar faces who are excited to see me. People that have bought one of my books and want to talk about how much they enjoyed it and see if I have a new offering and that feeling... the feeling you get when hearing someone talk about your book may be the greatest profit you get all weekend.

Thankful for my readers and Reviewers

As an author, I've been pretty lucky. My very first commentary for WAMU (DC NPR) was selected for the annual drive show as best of the year. I've gotten to interview Nobel Prize winners, Secretaries of State, celebrities, and some amazing authors, but today, I'm here to say I'm thankful to my readers and listeners.

When you write or produce something and send it out into the ether you have no idea how someone will respond to it. Sometimes, you think it's good or even great, but you don't know. Your reviews enlighten, inform, and teach me to be a better writer. Your handshakes at SFF Cons or at the Press Club encourage me to dig deeper. The stories you trust me to share for you or the debates we have craft ideas and refine understanding.

So, thank you for being there. Thank you for giving a chance to a small fish author with two books under his name. I have read every review and critique of A Halo of Mushroom and A Climbing Stock. They mean the world to me. Keep talking to me and I'll keep listening.

If writing is like oxygen to those of us who feel the compelled to write, then reviews are like oranges to sailors long at sea.

Keep writing, reviewing, and spreading the word!

All my best,

Andrew

Making of a Guest of Honor Part III: At the Con

I made it! The morning smells of waffles, cinnamon, and chocolate muffins. Today, for the first time, I wear the mantle of guest of honor. It’s a day of laurels which must be why my breakfast is Continental. I A run of texts and emails waits. There is much to do, but first I must eat too much. You see at Cons, you often get anchored to a table or a panel so a smart author grabs food when they can. I gorge. Then, something spectacular catches my eye—

Smuckers peanut butter packets!

My eyes light up. An evil grin consumes my face and I quickly toast a bagel. With a smear of peanut butter, a glop of jelly, a paper bowl, and a napkin I prepare lunch! After that, it’s on to the Salem Convention center and Geek Mob 2017.

A drop strikes the windshield as I turn the ignition. I frown, but Terry Pratchett’s Dodger plays over the stereo to cheer me up. The CD’s getting to the good part. The rain patters, then starts a tremendous drum solo. It beats with a pattern so quick you can’t distinguish the strikes. Luckily, there are no cymbals, but still, the wipers sweep away sheets of water.
The GPS drones on oblivious.

The Con opens at one and I pull in at eleven. The parking lot street lights create not A Halo of Mushrooms, but a cascade of diamonds. I dash to the trunk, pelted by the Wicked Witch’s natural enemy and pull some trash bags over my books. I grab my dolly and take the first load in.

By the time I reach the front door, rivulets pour from my face and my shirt lies plastered to my skin. Someone opens the door. The world changes. It’s Oz. It’s Wonderland. It’s a Con. A table lies before the entry with a scatter of comic books. A rainbow of posters grace the walls. Frozen robots await activation to serve or destroy. Adults and children scurry and strangely when they see me… their eyes widen.

They know who I am.

Organizers clasp my hand. Theirs are already dry. Mine squishes. We exchange smiles. Water beads on the garbage bag over my stuff. I stand in a puddle of my own making. They ask if I need anything.

Coffee? A towel?

We laugh. They assign someone to help me to my table. People ask me about the trip. They tell me they’re excited I came. The Con Host, Matthew Correll, sees me and offers me a hug. Brenda Nicole McGuire, one of the organizers, hands me a badge marked GOH.

Around me, the telltale clatter of scaffolding and squeak of dollies sound. Vendors drag boxes of comic books, artwork, and crafts to their own tables as well as displaying amazing pieces of nostalgia from the ‘30’s, 60’s, etc. Some circulate. Most wave hello. My own dolly stops before my designated spot.



They place me at the first table. It’s dressed in black velvet. Two five pound dumb bells rest on the tabletop. These I requested (I’m such a diva) to use as paper weights. I unfurl my banner, unpack my novels before dashing into the rain again to bring in the Sesame Workshops donations to help the Blue Ridge Autism Society from the Sesame Workshop, some of my artwork, and a scattering of magnets. Someone follows in my wake.

The GOH rates a schlepper.

We grab the few last goodies including my smuggled peanut butter and jelly bagel and I pause to smile at an inflated Stay Puffed Marshmallow Man and a tarped replica of Herbie, the Love Bug.



The rain is starting to subside. Inside, I finish setting up the table. This part feels like every other Con, except while I’m hanging paintings, Bryan Handcock, a local DJ, walks up.

“Andrew,” he says, “It’s great to meet you!” His voice rises a little as if he’s genuinely excited. In his hands, he holds a Muppet soundtrack LP. He takes in the Julia Muppet, books, and laughs at some of the one liners that make up my humor paintings. Then, to business. Bryan starts telling me about myself. He’s done his homework. I hear about my books, radio career, and one or two Muppet stories that I have shared in the past. This takes me aback…

I guess I am the Guest of Honor.

Being a radio guy, Bryan walks me to check out the sound system in the main auditorium and the panel room. I talk to the engineers about splitting the sound from the mixer so I can record an audio version for myself and for Xistance (They asked me to produce a story on my story.)

How meta is that?

The clock chimes 1:00 pm.

The opening festivities begin with a little bit of history. It turns out that Geek Mob is seven years old. Kinda cool. I’ve never been someone’s seven year itch before. Host Matthew Correll, the brain behind State of the Nerd, provides an overview of the day and all the cool things planned at today’s Geek Mob. Then, he introduces me and artistic guest of honor Jenn Depaola. and we say a few unscripted words. The day is officially on.



Adult Halloween starts with the opening. I gaze at the amazing Cosplay. There are Uncanny X-Men, Batmen, Dumbledore’s and Gandalf’s. My favorite at Geek Mob 2017 comes in the form of a family who dressed as Schoolhouse Rock. The daughter goes as “I’m just a Bill” and the mother shines as “Conjunction Junction.”


Yes, I’m a nerd.

When I return to my table, a line waits for me: men, women, children, some in costume, and others carrying books cluster. They have eyes like bill collectors. I break into stories. The crowd thickens a bit as my voice tends to carry. One of the best things about Cons is actually talking with people. Sharing your successes and failures, spinning your tales... Even better, hearing theirs.

The day continues. People come to me to ask for writing tips, thumb through my books, and some even ignore me!

My Q&A is set for 3pm. It’s Geek Mob’s last “big” event before the costume contest. The auditorium is about half-full. I pick up my mic and chatter with the crowd as they get seated. Bryan introduces me with flare, then like pulling out at starting gun he says, “Go.” And I do.

For the first half hour I recall my time with Dave Goelz, Rollie Krewson, Bonnie Erickson, Jim Lewis, and all the rest of the Jim Henson gang. I call this period of my life “geek heaven” and gladly share stories about how each of them got into the business, the pranks they played on each other, how various Muppets were invented, and more. I interweave these with my own stories as a writer, as a nervous first time panelist at the National Press Club, as a fledgling reporter at WAMU or as an author trying to emerge above the white noise. The second half hour is a Q & A. From the audience, I am asked about the back story to A Halo of Mushrooms and how I came up with the humor of A Climbing Stock. I spill. It’s a good chat and the applause is warm. The talk ends with more people than it started with.

I return to my table with a few people trailing behind. We continue chatting. That’s what it’s about.
As the Con ends, guests and organizers ask me to stay for the after party. There’s going to be music and a magician, they tempt. I decide to catch the magic act. He’s good, but he’s also dangerous. You see, his show not only features illusions and sleight of hand, but hypnosis with victims pulled from the audience.

It goes like this.

Everyone close your eyes. Now, extend your arms and imagine one arm being attached to a hot air balloon and another attached to the brick. Feel one arm rising and the other being dragged down.

After a bit, he asks us to open our eyes. From this, smiling with malice, he chooses his victims.

I, of course, am one of them.

They put me in the third chair. I watch as he drops two people. They just fall over asleep at the merest suggestion. I’m skeptical, but decide I don’t want to be hypnotized. So, as he approaches me and stares into my eyes I start naming fruit when he begins to count down.
“One,” he says.

“Plum,” I think.

“Two,” he says.

“Banana,” I respond. And so forth. Then, he pauses and says, “Strange, isn’t it?” before getting to ten which sounds to me like a rather squat kumquat.

“Sleep.” He commands.

I stare at him.

He tips his head down. Playfully, I lower my head. Shrugging, he taps my shoulder and gestures that I can return to my seat. He succeeds with the other three.

The funniest bit was when he told a girl that she would be unable to recall the number nine, that it would be on the tip of her tongue, but that she would be unable to conjure up the number. Then he had her count on her fingers…

“1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7. 8….” A look of confusion grows on her face, followed by a look of frustration. Amiably, he suggests she try again, “1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8…” On the failed third attempt she blurts out—

“This is bad! I’m a math major!”

Even the magician laughs at that. Luckily, he restores the number nine to her. The day ends with everyone smiling. I pack up my gear and head back to the hotel. Being Guest of Honor was a blast. I drive home the next morning and by the time I pull into the driveway Terry Pratchett’s Dodger concludes.

Being a Guest of Honor is much like being an author. There’s prep, creativity, and editing, but there’s also a need to listen to the story and improvise to its demands. It’s also, as it is with every tale, not really about the author.
Most people think that writing is a solitary profession. It’s not. It’s about relationships. It’s about a community that supports you during the creation and production. Even more, it really is about the reader.After all, each person who reads one of my books reads a slightly different tale. The words may be the same, but the narrative is reinvented through their philosophy, experience, and willingness to play along. Being a guest of honor is the same. It’s about listening as much as it is about speaking. If you listen, engage, work, and play, you can be a Guest of Honor that hasn’t worn out his welcome.

I think the one suggestion I would offer future guests of honors who read this is… don’t be afraid to have fun. Take it seriously, but enjoy the ride. We are lucky. It is amazing that people care about our works. Allow yourself to indulge in the moment. After all, you probably became a writer because first you were a lover of stories. If you get a chance to share a weekend that is all about the imagination… You better slide on every slide and swing on every swing. Just remember to share. Playgrounds are most fun when everyone gets a turn and everyone is playing together. Also remember, behind the scenes, a Con takes a lot of hard work and people who volunteer many hours to create this Adult Halloween. It’s your job as guest or guest of honor to respect that, helps as you can, go above the minimum, and enjoy the heck out of it. .

Thanks to Matthew Correll, Jason Turner, Brenda Nicole McGuire and everyone else involved in the making of Geek Mob 2017. Thanks also to Candace Johnson, Alicia Hiller-Mahmoudov, Henry Sienkiewisz, David Furst, Dave Goelz, Bonnie Erickson, Arthur Novell, and to all who made this experience possible. From the first draft of A Climbing Stock to the final edits of A Halo of Mushrooms I owe all of you so much!

Making of a Guest of Honor (Part II)

One really important aspect of being a guest of honor at a science fiction con has nothing to do with the Con itself. It’s making sure the world turns. Luckily, most Cons happen over the weekend and so for most of us the worst that happens is you might lose a Friday of work or be really tired on Monday. Even so, whether you are an author, artist, or guest you still need to make sure that everything is pre-set… especially if you’re going to an out of town Con.

My Con, Geek Mob 2017, took place in Roanoke (There’s something pretty awesome about an SF Con being set in a place named for America’s lost colony. It’s like doing an event in Atlantis.) It’s about a four hour drive from home and so in addition to making sure that my work life won’t go off the rails I need to make sure everything else will be fine too. For me, that means heading over to my parents’ place to do a load of laundry, cook a multi-meal dish, etc. Luckily, both my parents are still in good shape. They can move around and they’re sharper than most people decades younger. That means even if I shirked, everything would be okay. Still, it’s good to have peace of mind.

So, on the morning of the drive I set off not to Roanoke, but to the house I grew up in. Dad’s awake already. He’s playing video games. Mom’s hunkered down on a sofa watching the news. She quizzes me on my itinerary and if I know how to get everywhere I need to go. I assure her the GPS knows even if I don’t, then set to work on my chores. She helps. Neither of us rate an allowance.

After that, Dad and I plan to hit the gym. A nice ninety minute jog for me and thirty minutes, plus weights and stretching for him. There’s plenty of time for this. My plan is to leave for Virginia by 1 pm to try to avoid both morning and evening rush hours.

Delays strike.

First, at 9:50, Dad says he wants to play one more game because he hasn’t had a good score all morning. Go for it, I tell him, after all my schedule is my own. If I leave a little later or need to cut down on gym time that’s okay.
He finally gets a score he can live with and gets dressed at 10. As we’re prepare to leave, he asks, “Where are my keys?”

We look in pockets, between couch cushions, behind dressers, under beds, in his car. We search everywhere. After half an hour of hunting Mom starts assembling a spare set. He did a really good job. Finally, we discover the keys where the gremlins left them—
In a grocery bag filled with cleaning stuff that my parents never unpacked.

Forty-five minutes lost, I look at the clock and decide there’s still time. No need to change the plan. Into the car and off to the gym we go.

But as we drive around the corner, we find downed electrical poles strewn across the street. It’s so fresh the utility workers haven’t even put out the cones yet. I U-turn and take an alternate route. Construction finds us. In front of us, city workers dug a rectangular grave on one side of the street. They’re letting traffic through, but only one side. By the time, they let our side go there’s such a back-up that only one car can get through before the red light. After three light cycles and fifteen feet, I force another U-turn and try again.

We reach the gym ninety minutes late. I must say that my run went well. I ran fast and hard though I cut thirty minutes off my goal because I felt time pressing.

On the way home, more absurd traffic gets in the way. Every cloud in the sky wears fate’s mischievous smile. Finally, we get there and I pick up Mom so we can eat a nice lunch out before my trip.

The Friday before the Con is National Sandwich Day and that means Subway is offering a buy one get one free deal. This is pretty perfect. I buy a foot for my parents and a foot for me with the plan that I eat six inches for lunch and save the rest for dinner.

After lunch, I do a dummy check, kiss my parents, and hit the road. Not too bad, I think, I’m only two hours behind schedule.

It’s a nice day, 70 degrees, bright sun, and clean sky. I load the first four CD’s of Terry Pratchett’s Dodger into my car, and hit the Beltway. I ride with the windows down and I feel stress melting. Pratchett makes me laugh more than a few times. A colleague suggested he was the right author for a road trip. I make a mental note to thank him.

Around Rockville, I pick up a hitchhiker, a ladybug who flies into my car and settles itself on the window sill. I smile at it. Thirty miles later, it’s enjoying the open breeze as much as I am, and seems content to listen to the book on tape. An hour later, it’s still with me. I think this is something pretty cool as it could fly off anytime it wanted. I wriggle my phone out of my pocket and try to take a picture of it. This is a pretty hard thing to do (not to mention a stupid thing to do) while driving alone on a highway.



I aim by feel, but don’t have well developed selfie skills. If I did maybe I’d have gotten a better shot. In the end, the ladybug drives with me from Rockville, Maryland to the Shenandoah Mountains. I don’t know exactly when she leaves. If she said “Thanks for the lift” I miss it, but it is nice to have the company.

Next up, the Con!

(To be continued and concluded)

The Making of a Guest of Honor Pt. 1

I allowed the alarm clock to sleep in. It hummed in the darkness still hours away from its scheduled cry. I removed the blankets and sat up. A chill touched me as a green LED light blinked 5:30. It really was too early to be up, but my car waited only half-packed. Today mattered. It wasn’t a moving day, but it still felt like a big move up. In a few hours I would serve as Guest of Honor at a science fiction comic con for the first time. With that in mind, who needed sleep?

I stumbled to the kitchen and began to prepare breakfast. My eyes shocked at the sharp refrigerator light. My body disagreed with my brain about whether I should be up and my head felt a little hollow. Coffee couldn’t fix that. Instead, I relied on blackberries, raspberries, and a handful of nuts. The fructose helped. The splash of water did too.

The prep for being Guest of honor begins months before this morning. It often starts with an email inquiry. In my case, it started with an IM. A colleague I chatted with at Mars Con said I’d make a good fit for something happening in Roanoke. It was a science fiction con, but also a fundraiser for Autism. They work heavily with the Blue Ridge Autism and Achievement Center. That got me. I told him he could pass along my info.

I expected just a table. I didn’t expect to be offered Guest of Honor, but you don’t say “no.”

When they called to offer, I thought about what I could contribute. I could talk about my work with WAMU, VOR, my fantasy novels, and, of course, my time working with the Jim Henson gang. They seemed thrilled. I was too.

First thing I did after the phone call was to contact some of my Muppety friends at Sesame Street. I told them about the event and the cause and they volunteered to help. They contributed a box full of books, toys, and other goodies plus a prototype Julia doll! Julia is Sesame Street’s newest Muppet. She’s a character with autism that they introduced just this summer. I felt overwhelmed. Moreso, when I saw just how much stuff they wanted to give. The thing about my Muppety friends is that they are all dear. Not one of them is a jerk or diva. They are who they ought to be: kind, smart, sweet, and generous. If you hold a warm spot for Sesame Street or the Muppets know that their caretakers are wonderful people.

Goodies secured, the next thing I did was think about what was expected of me and what I could do as Guest of Honor to provide the congoers, cosplayers, and readers a good experience. I asked Dave Goelz, Charles DeLint, Catherynne Valente, and a couple of others in the entertainment and literary universe. The nutshell was be funny and remember it’s about the audience. Don’t be indulgent, think about stories they could tell that they would enjoy sharing. Also, don’t pretend to be something you’re not.

In the abstract, that’s great advice, but then you have to really dig. What parts of my life fit that? What would people want to hear about? My take on the writing craft? My successes? My most embarrassing tales? What about the struggles and failures? Do I talk about the time Amy Adams flirted with me at the presser for Night at the Museum II? How the mixing board caught fire on the opening night of my play’s New York premier?

Do I talk about how I met the Muppets because of being stilted by the Washington Redskins’ Darrell Green? Do I talk about how A Halo of Mushrooms was inspired by my assignments as a newsroom radio reporter? How about the first time I wrote Muppety scripts with Jim Lewis and Dave Goelz? Do I need a theme?

The theme idea was one I liked. As a writer, I’m much more of a pantser than a plotter, but giving a speech is much more like writing a short story than a novel. I’m much more likely to outline a short story because you have so little time to fit in all the elements and make sure everything works. Every brushstroke, every keystroke matters. A novel is different. You have more time in a novel to think and wander. Usually, you also have a lot more time to edit too.

The theme I chose was one given to me in my first interview with the Muppets. You see many of the original performers with the Muppets did not come from a performance background. Dave Goelz, before becoming Gonzo, was an industrial designer with Hewlett Packard and American Airlines. He said that the first season on set intimidated him. He fled when someone famous like Danny Kaye came in the room. He felt he didn’t deserve to be there. This impacted his work. It made Gonzo “downbeat” and a little depressed. One day, Frank Oz had had enough. He pulled Dave to the side and said, “Look! Your job is to be a fool. Just go for it.”

A light went off in my head. The job is to be a fool. When writing fantasy novels, comedy, or even reporting the job is to go full throttle. It’s not to write the piece that everyone has already read. It’s not to craft a cookie cutter reiteration of a Star Wars space opera, a James Bond thriller, a Police buddy story, or even a Romantic comedy. It’s to make something new. It’s to risk ridicule. It’s to bare the slings and arrows of outrageous Goodreads reviewers and in doing so create a work that hopefully has a resonance that lasts beyond the last written word on the stories final page.

My first duty as guest of honor was to be a fool.

(to be continued)