Sorry I’ve been even less attentive to this blog than normal.  My reason—yes, reason, not excuse or justification—is that I’m starting a new book.  Really just the proposal package, which means the first three chapters, a synopsis, and a cover letter, but doing that requires that I pretty much know where I’m going with the entire story.  Sticking with my typical method, I can’t share too much about the story, but I will tell you that it mixes a Korean boogeyman myth with teen girl lit.  Yeah, that’s right, and I dare you to use that to figure out what I have mind. 

It’s Spring Break at SLCC so I’ve set the goal of finishing the sample chapters by this Saturday.  Three chapters, roughly 7-8,000 words, in a week shouldn’t be too tough.  As of this morning I’m to about 5,500 words and am nearly done with chapter two.  Right on pace.  It’s impossible to know if a rough draft is good or not, especially as our emotions so often lie to us during composition, but I feel pretty good given how new and different this genre and perspective are.  I’m writing from the POV of a 14-year-old Korean-American girl, first person, so there’s a lot that’s new there.  I’ll keep you updated, hopefully with greater frequency once the rough draft of these chapters is finished.

In preparation for writing this new story, I’ve been reading some teen girl lit with a strong voice and powerful, traumatic emotions.  That isn’t all I’ve been reading, but it has added titles to the list that I wouldn’t likely have picked up otherwise.  So here’s a rundown of the books and authors I’ve been reading in recent months and why:

- Sara Zarr.  Sara’s a friend and member of several local writer’s organizations with me, and I’ve been hearing about her work for a long time.  It isn’t the type of stuff I read normally, but this new story gave me a good reason to try her writing.  It’s good.  Very good, in fact, if Sweathearts is any indication.  (And I hear her other books are better.)  So I’m picking up Story of a Girl (her National Book Award nominated debut) and Once Was Lost next.    

- Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson.  Another teen book, very strong voice and equally difficult subject matter.  It was very good, though I did feel that sometimes the dark, jaded slant of the protagonist was a little excessive.  Dark humor can lose it’s theraputic value if used too often, which I felt occasionally made this protagonist feel just a touch artificial.  But that’s pretty particular criticism; overall, very well done.

- Dune by Frank Herbert.  I’ve read this book before, of course, but not since I was a teen.  I knew I liked it, but I’d forgotten just how much.  Aside from Herbert’s affinity or jumping heads within a scene (which I sometimes find distracting) and his italicizing thoughts (which always irritates me when done as frequently as Herbert does), it’s a near-perfect book.  Great drama, fine characterization, fantastic dialogue, all communicating really complex and important ideas.  The rest of the series is less cohesive than the first book, but it’s definitely a worthwhile read.  It’s a great study into what it means to be human and how intricately that is tied to our ability to hope.  It will always be one of my top recommendations.

- Kate DiCamillo.  I’ve made no secret of the fact that I’m not as familiar with children’s lit as I am adult, and that since I started writing for kids I’ve been trying to catch up.  In that rush, I’ve found no children’s writer that I more admire and even envy than Kate.  The Magician’s Elephant, The Tale of Despereaux, The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane, all fantastic.  They’re books I wish I had written.  I still want to be Neil Gaiman when I grow up, put now I’d like a bit of DiCamillo thrown in as well.

- Terry Pratchett’s The Fifth Elephant.  A Discworld novel I’d not read before, it was typical Pratchett, which means it is anything but typical.  Life is always better with a little Pratchett added to the mix.

- Charles Dickens’ Great Expectations and R.L. Stine’s Welcome to Dead House.  The first I reread and the second I read for the first time in preparation for UELMA a few weeks ago. 

- I just started Dan Wells’ I Am Not a Serial Killer.  While I’m not much of a horror reader, I’m impressed by Dan’s craftsmanship and his ability to tread the very fine line he needs to tell the story without losing sympathy for the protagonist.

- The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins.  Good, well-written story, but I’m not as high on it as many others.  I found that a number of things in the story felt implausible, which made the experience less authentic than I would have liked.

- Next on the list (if I ever find the time) The Gathering Storm by Brandon Sanderson and Robert Jordan.  Hey, I put them in the order I consider proper given how the book was written.     

Adios.

Michael Collings (who is one of my favorite people in the world, I love hearing him share his thoughts on writing, literature, and just about anything else that’s on his mind) made a very important point about genre on Facebook in reply to my last post.  Here’s what he said:

There is nothing that says a novel can’t be legitimately cross- or multi-generic.. Dean Koontz has been blending psychological terror, supernatural horror, thriller, romance, adventure, historical, science-fiction (especially alternate history), and fantasy for years, and the results are often immensely enjoyable novels that speak to wider audiences than would otherwise be possible.

 This is a really important point.  Genre is by definition a “loose category of composition,” with the emphasis on loose.  They are arrived upon by experimentation and the resulting convention that follows.  They are not static, concrete concepts; they are certainly not boxes or molds into which stories must fit.  Just as Michael remarked, many of the best stories successfully adopt and employ conventions from multiple genres into a cohesive whole.   

So what does that mean?  It means that genre should not be an omnipresent driving or defining guide for either writers or readers; however, knowing the genre in which you’re writing can be important for a few reasons.  

When you’re composing something, whether a written story or a painting or a verbal statement or whatever, awareness of your audience is a rhetorical necessity for effective communication.  The conventions of a genre give us rough guidelines we can use to shape our message for better effect.  Fantasy readers tend to appreciate the impossible presented as plausible, whereas readers of courtroom thrillers are more likely to engage in a story predicated upon a more literal representation of reality as we experience it.  That tells us as writers that if we’re trying to reach Terry Pratchett fans we’d be better served to write stories that are more Pratchett-like than Grisham-ish.

Pratchett-like > Grisham-ish?  Not exactly a scalpel of a compositional tool, is it.  And you know, it’s a wonderful thing that it isn’t.  The moment we come up with exact recipes for narrative is the moment stories stop being told, because we’ll have all relevant perspectives already.  (This will never happen, by the way, so long as a single human being exists.)  So why is genre talked about so often in publishing?  Look at it from an agent’s viewpoint.  If you pitch a story, she wants to know that you have crafted your novel so that it will be attractive to a wide and, hopefully, partially established and identified audience.  If you can’t lump your book into the very loose conventions of established genres, what is she supposed to think?  This story is for older military men who are now pacifists and prefer their symbolism to trend toward fauna, particularly the large predators of the Russian steppe.  Think that will excite her?  Nope, no more than, “There’s something in my story for everyone.”  If you tell her your story is psychological horror, not only can she assume that readers of Stephen King, Dean Koontz, Ira Levin, and Edgar Allen Poe may like it and fans of Louisa May Alcott or Helen Fielding probably won’t, but also that you’re familiar with the ideas and tastes of these readers.

This is, I believe, a much more important function of genre.  Yes, it’s important to be able to pitch your work so that an agent or editor will buy it, and that requires being able to tell them where stores will shelve your book; far more important is reading lots of the same things your desired audience is reading so you’re a part of their discourse community.  Communication differs among groups.  Not just in the languages they speak, but in the ideas and emotions they share and explore, and in conventions they create to commuicate successfully.  

Genres work similarly.  Readers of Brandon Sanderson are likely to have read Tolkien, Eddings, Hobbs, and McCaffrey; they’re also more likely than many others to have read C.S. Lewis, Phillip Pullman, and Lloyd Alexander.  This means that these individuals are conversant in certain ideas, symbols, and systems that most others are not.  If you’re writing for these people you sure better have a sense of what they like and don’t like, what they find interesting or perplexing, and especially what became passe decades ago because Piers Anthony or Marion Zimmer Bradley already did it. 

Here’s an analogy: let’s look at all of literature as a cocktail party.  No matter where you are inside the party you hear the buzz of conversation, and everyone in the room has enough in common that they are talking about the same types of things in the generic: occupations, family, recreation, and the like.  People meet each other, make polite chit-chat for a while, and then move on to discuss very similar things with new individuals.  A genre might be considered the subgroups that form within the room to discuss particulars of these broad subjects.  If you abruptly slide into these conversations, you can’t just use the same old lines you’ve used to board passing partygoers in the past.  Here, you’ve got to listen and learn to know what is going on, especially if you want to make a comment that will mark you as anything but completely ignorant.

That’s what genre allows: it is a tool that helps us take part in an ongoing conversation among a specific group of readers so that we can become well-enough informed to add our own voice in a way that will be appreciated.  If a group at the party is discussing the designated batter rule in baseball, you don’t want to blurt out, “That’s the one where the players skate, right?”  Just the same, if readers are enthralled by the seductive nature of evil in the work of Thomas Harris, you don’t want to give them a book based on the premise that truly bad stuff has no place in fiction and so you’ve written a story about a stolen garden gnome (which could be a hilarious book if written for the right reasons and for people who would appreciate it).       

To wrap up: genre isn’t a rule, it’s a tool, like almost everything else in writing.  Use it to reassure prospective editors that you have an idea what type of person will like your book and where the store can shelve it; more importantly, use it to help you write to better effect for the people that are moved by the same ideas, challenges, and passions that drive you.               

While the conference isn’t actually over for another few hours, it is for me.  Because I’m tired.  And my panels are all finished, so I’ve come back home to medicate my knees and tell you all the interesting (to me, at least) bits I remember.  (Things do have a tendency to blur at these things.)

Thursday

The conference started off with an interesting panel on writing style, after which I talked with Lisa Mangum about a requested manuscript of mine that’s apparently disappeared in some vortex at Shadow Mountain.  She said she isn’t in the vortex neighborhood (acquisitions) any more, but that believe it or not there is  bottom to the singularity and, yes, a fourteen month wait probably is a good sign in this case.  Having decided I would take what I could get in the optimism department, I headed to a presentation on open source software that made me aware of a few tools that may be very, very helpful.  (I’d never even heard of GIMP, which is apparently an open source graphic program in the vein of PhotoShop, for example.)  After this, I attended a panel on Mormons writing, reading, and editing horror fiction, mostly because Michael Collings (formerly of Pepperdine) took part, and I always love hearing him speak and teach.

Nathan Hale (who works with Shannon Hale on the Rapunzle graphic novels but is not her husband, brother, or othersuch, but is a scion of the Hale theater dynasty) then gave the day’s keynote address, which was a blend of three presentations that wasn’t exactly seemless and was better for it.  It was fun, as were the substantial number of flying fish (the helicopter rather than the standard species).   

Then came my first panel of the conference: Putting Romance in Fantasy.  Other panelists included Mette Harrison (who was a fine moderator in addition to contributing a great deal), Ami Chopine, Lesli Muir Lytle, and Anna del C. Dye.  We talked about romance as a concept apart from romance as a genre, which I thought was important, and I even thought to bust out one of my favorite Oscar Wilde quotes.  A number of people complimented me on the panel over the weekend, so I must have said something constructive, which is the goal.   

Soon after I took part in my second panel of the day, which addressed why so many mothers and dogs and such die in children’s stories.  My friend and former editor Stacy Whitman (who is moving to New York, hurray!) served as moderator and panelist as she pitched questions at two good friends, Julie Wright and Paul Genesse, and myself.  Much of the time was spent establishing the difference between a trope and a cliche, which is a really important distinction.

Oh, I almost forgot.  That night I was invited to a goodbye dinner for Stacy at Bangkok Grill in Orem (about 8th south and 3rd east, I believe).  It was quite a gathering.  Stacy went to BYU with Brandon Sanderson, Dan Wells, Howard Taylor, and a bunch of others now in the writing/publishing world, and they kindly let me attend with the rest of the clan.  It was kind of a thing to see, about twenty-five or thirty of us, a surprising number published writers (some very famous).  Here’s all you need to know: 1) Bangkok Grill is very good (Howard knows his Thai food) so you should go.  Frequently.  2)  Talking about methods of procuring and utilitzing tape worms for medicinal use is not the best subject for dinner conversation, but it can and does happen.  3)  If you think a writer is an especially capable, interesting, or admirable kind of person, never, ever go to dinner with a gang of us.  I fit in that night.  That means you will be disappointed to the brink of suicide.  4) Eating spicy food at night does not hinder my sleep, for which I am profoundly grateful.       

Friday

I was on the first panel of the morning, which filled up despite the hour (9:00 am) because of a really strong lineup: Guest of Honor and NY Times Bestseller Brandon Sanderson, the certified and certifiable schlock genius Howard Taylor, good buddy and perpetual puzzle James Dashner, and Larry Correia and Karen Hoover, neither of whom I knew but both certainly held their own on this heavyweight panel.  I hope I did the same, because this session earned a lot of praise—perhaps because it ranged from imbibing Essence of Payton Manning (you will live a happier life if you don’t ask) to the redneck fairies in Larry’s work to Brandon’s taking “Rapunzel’s hair” and “Sponge Bob” and transmuting them into a story about a space elevator constructed of impervious, semi-divine keratin which facilitates the discovery of a race of sentient sponges.  Yeah, if you weren’t there, you missed out.  That fifty minutes will never be replicated.

Marty Brenneis was the day’s keynotes, and he showed how George Lucas’s special effects company did every single cool thing you’ve ever seen on film.  It was a blast!  (Very literally.)  

At noon I was scheduled for a signing, which eventually happened though it looked for a long time that it wouldn’t.  There was some miscommunication between event organizers and the BYU Bookstore, and myself along with quite a few other authors found none of our books were available to buy.  When I discovered this the previous day I allowed my frustration to get the better of me for a while, but a very kind and patient woman named Tami arranged for me to sell on consignment and all went swimmingly.  They even got a sign with my name printed out in three hours!  I’m telling you, that girl is magic.  I signed some books over the course of the hour and talked to more people, so it turned out great.  A few other ladies at the bookstore helped me along with Tami though I didn’t catch their names.  Thanks, ladies.       

An hour later came my second panel of the day on writing authentic child characters.  Other panelists were Julie Wright (a much better moderator than she gives herself credit for), Dene Low (Laura Card), Laura Bingham, Bron Bahlmann (who is sixteen and truly deserved his seat!), myself, and James Dashner doing his best Jeff Savage impression as Jeff didn’t make it.  (For the record, it was more of a James doing Jeff doing a spot-on James Dashner impression.)  Again, things went well.  I didn’t know Dene or Laura very well, but they were both impressive.  Bron made me feel both old and a touch slow, which is a striking concoction of inferiority.  I’m a bit embarrassed that I laughed when James explained his process of secondary character creation, but it wasn’t insulting at all, at least, it wasn’t meant to be.  It was a result of perplexity.  James just writes good stories, much in the way the wind blows.  He’s so instinctive where I’m analytic.  He’ll tell you frankly he doesn’t know how or why about much of his process and, equally frankly, it’s like an itch I can’t scratch.  I gotta know how that brain works!  I swear, if he’s ever foolish enough to take a nap near me when we’re alone I’m going to find some scissors or something and poke around in his brain.  James, you have been warned.

I wrapped up the day with a really interesting presentation by Bryan Beus, a visual artist who reminds me a lot of myself in his approach to art.  He presented on archetypes and the monomyth in narrative from a largely visual point of view, which I found fascinating.  It really was like looking at a very familiar subject through lenses just that much different from what you’re used to.  We talked for a minute afterward and it was clear that there was some methodological kinship there.  I’m really glad I went.

Saturday

I’m always a bit drained by the third day of a conference and I was only on one Saturday panel, so I planned on keeping things short.  The day started off pleasantly when Brandon Mull and I parked near each other and walked into the Wilkinson Center together.  We caught up a bit and talked shop.  Brandon is one of the very successful writers who has and continues to pound the pavement like a madman.  He’s visited, I don’t know, a thousand schools over the years?  Whatever the actual number, he’s a legend in the local children’s writing world for his energy and work ethic.  When you add that to a terrific storyteller and a genuinely nice guy, you get someone who’s always nice to cross paths with.

Again, my panel was the first of the day (though my second on romance, go figure).  Where before I was the only guy on the romance panel, this was all men: moderator John Brown (who I got to know at dinner on Thursday), fellow Dragonlance writer Dan Willis, and L.E. Modesitt Jr (Lee) in addition to myself.  I thought this panel was fantastic, though Lee did disagree with me a few times (ouch!).  I can’t complain, honestly.  This was a good panel with the four of us dealing with pretty nuanced stuff, from sociological theory to narrative craftsmanship.  There was a lot of interplay and, I think, really actionable information for those in attendance.  I was glad to be a part and look forward to future events with all these men (though the topic of romance seems unlike as a future place for us to meet up). 

Then I spent an hour or two talking with a lovely nineteen-year-old woman about her book—or, you might say, abusing her by suggesting so many options for revision it certainly gave her a headache.  I’d use her name, but she insists she’s a thirty-plus married with two children.  I don’t want to expose her identity as a bald (and very young)-faced liar.

Then I went to two panels on worldbuilding.

Then I came home to write to you.    

Other things I’ll report (which you may or may not want to know):

* People ask me to take pictures with them, and this happened three times at LTUE.  I always agree, but still find this to be extremely odd.  Rather like taking pictures of a can of soup.  There is nothing particularly off putting about a can of soup, certainly, but neither is it possessed of a rare aesthetic quality.  Whenever I’m asked to take a picture with someone, a single thought fills my head: stop looking so confused.

* James Dashner’s entrance in a room is sometimes accomplied by applause, only some of which is sarcastic.  Brandon Sanderson’s is accompanied by greater applause, none of it sarcastic.  Mine is accompanied by no applause.  All of this strikes me as logical.

* Paul Genesse wrote some very generous things (perhaps overly so) on his blog after our Thursday afternoon panel.  He actually posted it that day—after being on four panels!  Like Brandon Mull, Paul too is a machine in synthetic flesh.     

* The Brandons Mull and Sanderson signed books for my brother and his wife.  I will now be even cooler to their family.  (My nephew, who will be four tomorrow, thinks I’m pretty awesome already, so just wait until he can read the dedication to GDC.)

* Best panelist of the conference: L.E. Modesitt Jr.  Yeah, yeah, that guy who kind of sort of disagreed with me about some stuff.  I may not agree with him on everything, but I do most things—and the guy knows his craft and knows how to talk about it.  I admire and respect his balance of intellectual orientation in the disciplines of economics, politics, and other social dynamics with the truly idiosyncratic nature of telling a story.  He’s one who does it right, if you ask me (though he’d be the first to point out that a million other ways can be just as right).  The Brandons, Howard Taylor, and Dan Wells among others are always standouts, but this weekend’s cream was Lee (which, unfortunately, rose only on Saturday as he was supporting his wife with an event she is holding this weekend).  If you ever get a chance to hear Lee talk about writing, don’t pass it up, I’m telling you.    

* My friend Eric Swedin and I still have yet to appear on the same panel, which is beginning to threaten mathematical probability as we know it.  My five panels were, I believe, more than the allotment to anyone not a very special guest.  For his part, Eric is so omni-present at this thing that it is unofficially known as Life, the Universe, and Eric.  (This may become official next year depending on Eric’s generosity and the conference’s poverty.)  I’m impatient to sit with him at the same covered table brimming with mics and free water, do you hear me!

* At my book signing a lady picked up my book, started to read, and in about a minute laughed long and hard out loud.  That was cool.

* Yup, LTUE was all good.

Just a reminder that I’ll be at LTUE this weekend: Thursday - Saturday at BYU (3rd floor of the Wilkinson Student Center, as Marny kindly reminded me).  Also a reminder that the conference is FREE and that my charm will be in rare full display as I pontificate on romance and writing not once but twice.  And a comment that only the exceedingly lame and those with very good excuses will miss this event.  (A good excuse would involve death or dismemberment in some way; a healthy letting of blood alone won’t cut it.)

If my tidbit ethos alone is insufficient bait then don’t forget the main courses: Brandons Sanderson and Mull, L.E. Modesitt, James Dashner, Howard Taylor, Mette Ivie Harrison, Lisa Mangum, ad infinitum.  (Well, maybe not that long.)

And here, once more, is my schedule:

Thursday, Feb. 11th

2:00 pm: Putting Romance into Your Fantasy—Do you have to have a love story in Fantasy?  Why or why not?  If you do, how do you balance it with the action and adventure?  Other panelists will be Mette Ivie Harrison, Ami Chopine, Lesli Muir Lytle, and Anna del C. Dye.

4:00 pm: No More Dead Dogs (or Moms)—Why do mothers and dogs always die in children’s literature?  How do we pull at the heartstrings and give child characters independence without killing off dogs and moms?  Other panelists will be Julie Wright, my old editor Stacy Whitman, and Paul Genesse, all good friends so this should be fun.  Also, Stacy andI kind of invented this panel last year.

Friday, Feb. 12th

9:00 am: How to Become an Idea Factory—Where do you find ideas?  How do you go from an idea to a story?  Other panelists will be Brandon Sanderson, Howard Taylor, James Dashner, Larry Correia, and Karen Hoover.  There are some heavy hitters on this panel, so don’t miss it.

12:00 pm: I’ll be having a book signing.

2:00 pm: Writing Fantasy and Science Fiction for a Discerning Audience—How to write believable child characters.  Other panelists will be Julie Wright, Laura Bingham, Laura Card, and Bron Bahlmann Wilcox.  Just a heads up, I think I may take this one in two different directions.  It seems the panel is asking two questions: how to make speculative elements feel authentic, and how to write authentic children characters.  If you’re interested in either question I think you’ll get some interesting insights.

Saturday, Feb. 13th

9:00 am: A Guy’s Take on Writing Romance.  Other panelists will be L.E. Modesitt, Dan Willis, Aleta Clegg, and John Brown.

Here’s my final schedule for LTUE.  All ladies will be ecstatic to note that I am on two panels addressing the issue of romance, which you may regard as comic relief provided by the event organizers but I chose to consider a testament to my suave and charm.  Men are certainly indifferent.

Thursday, Feb. 11th

2:00 pm: Putting Romance into Your Fantasy—Do you have to have a love story in Fantasy?  Why or why not?  If you do, how do you balance it with the action and adventure?  Other panelists will be Mette Ivie Harrison, Ami Chopine, Lesli Muir Lytle, and Anna del C. Dye.

4:00 pm: No More Dead Dogs (or Moms)—Why do mothers and dogs always die in children’s literature?  How do we pull at the heartstrings and give child characters independence without killing off dogs and moms?  Other panelists will be Julie Wright, my old editor Stacy Whitman, and Paul Genesse, all good friends so this should be fun.  Also, Stacy and I kind of invented this panel last year.

Friday, Feb. 12th

9:00 am: How to Become an Idea Factory—Where do you find ideas?  How do you go from an idea to a story?  Other panelists will be Brandon Sanderson, Howard Taylor, James Dashner, Larry Correia, and Karen Hoover.  There are some heavy hitters on this panel, so don’t miss it.

12:00 pm: I’ll be having a book signing.

2:00 pm: Writing Fantasy and Science Fiction for a Discerning Audience—How to write believable child characters.  Other panelists will be Julie Wright, Laura Bingham, Laura Card, and Bron Bahlmann Wilcox.  Just a heads up, I think I may take this one in two different directions.  It seems the panel is asking two questions: how to make speculative elements feel authentic, and how to write authentic children characters.  If you’re interested in either question I think you’ll get some interesting insights.

Saturday, Feb. 13th

9:00 am: A Guy’s Take on Writing Romance.  Other panelists will be L.E. Modesitt, Dan Willis, Aleta Clegg, and John Brown.

Sorry this is a few days late.   I thought about giving an account of Wednesday’s BYU class visit before this, but, well, I didn’t. 

For the record, the students in Rick Walton’s children’s book publishing industry class are the luckiest in the nation, certainly, and most likely this world and most others.  And no, not because I talked to them for an hour earlier this week.  (I’d like to think that wasn’t too detrimental.)  Do you know the people scheduled to stop by to talk to them this semester?  I don’t know all the names, but the Brandons Mull and Sanderson top the list, along with Chris Schoebinger from Shadow Mountain, just to start.  And that’s after Shannon Hale tried to undo any damage I did earlier in the evening on Wednesday.  If these students are prepared for the publishing climate after this class, they haven’t been listening.

Anyway, Wednesday was great.  I arrived and greeted Rick, who knew my name and had seen me around but I’m not sure he could place the name with the face until we shook hands.  Kristen Chandler was there as well, and it was great meeting her for the first time as well.  Then Rick called Kristen and me to the front of the class and asked us to answer questions for a little over an hour, which we did.  I was impressed by the questions we fielded, which ranged pretty widely in content, as we were addressing up-and-coming authors, editors, illustrators, agents, and one lawyer who Shannon couldn’t quite figure out why he was there.  (She decided it must have something to do with women, which is a good bet, because I’m convinced everything that’s the least bit confusing ties in some way to women.)  Then Shannon answered questions for the last hour plus, signed books, and, I assume, went home.  I must so assume because I said goodbye to everyone and left earlier. 

So, the postmortem (don’t you love how macabre that sounds): finally got to know Rick a little better, met Shannon and Kristen for the first time, and got to talk about my profession and passion to a very attentive and bright class of kindred spirits.  I hope Rick finds some reason—real or imagined—to have me back some time. 

The Saints just kicked off, so I’m needed elsewhere.

There isn’t much that’s more perverse to the inherently lazy (I may mean me) than to receive time off from a job and to fill that time with more work.  It’s crass, in a way.  Positively unethical.

Summer semester at the college ended last week, and this is officially my first of four weeks of summer vacation.  Thus far, I have spent the time scheduling school visits (making  phone calls, leaving messages, making more phone calls, sending emails, making phone calls about emails, sending emails about messages, and splaying myself as far and wide as is possible, like a rollerskating donkey on an ice rink) and getting a replacement for my expired driver’s license.

Don’t ask.   

The renewal was something of a highlight of my week.  And no, I’m not be facetious at all.  I arrived at about 8:30 in the morning and was out by 9:00.  (Yes, a.m., and of the very same day!)  The intervening time was spent filling out one sheet of paperwork (one side only), about five minutes sitting, a short chat with a friend from the college who was enduring the same minimal inconvenience, a ten second and single row eye test, and a nice chat with a big fan of Robert Jordan whom I informed about Brandon and The Gathering Storm.  $25 later and I left holding a paper that identified me as a legal operator of a motorized carriage.  They promise me that the actual license will be mailed in about a month.  (Because the experience was so painless, I did not make a snarky comment about how the promised notice about my expiring license had not been so forthcoming.)

Yes, the photo on the license is DMV quality, but it’s far better than my old photo, in which I looked like a cadaver. 

So far, it’s made a respectable high point for my summer vacation.  I’m heading to Education Week at BYU next week, so maybe that’ll top it. 

Maybe.

Just received my (possible) schedule at CONduit next month. This is only a first look, but I thought I’d share. What the… I’m doing a workshop? Better decide on a topic, huh. (After a month-long point of view essay, that sounds a likely prospect.) Anyway, expect this list of events to narrow. I’ll probably end up doing 2 and 3 panels and the workshop. The more the better. Oh, and it’s unlikely I’ll be there Sunday. Sorry to be such a tease, not doing everything, everytime, (for or to everyone, take your pick)—though I really am more palatable in small doses.

Anyway, here are the possible panels and their times (all subject to change, of course):

Fri @ 1:00—My Workshop. (Likely on point of view and triple duty writing. Come ask me what that means in person.)

Fri @ 2:00—Writing Evil Overlords. (Sounds fun.)

Fri @ 3:00—Culture-Building in F&SF: How Do You Create a Viable and Consistent Culture. (The must have of every speculative fiction convention.)

Fri @ 4:00—It’s Not Your Parents’ Fiction:Writing for the YA/Children’s Market. (It’s still weird to be speaking about this as I only started writing for kids on a kind of desperate fluke.)

Sat @ 10:00—How Real Should Historical Fiction or Fantasy Be? (A better question is how real should reality be, and why can’t it ever manage to pull it off.)

Sun @ 1:00—Worldbuilding 101: What Do You Need to Know to Create Your Own Fictional World? (Hoping I don’t get this one and culture building. That would be like coloring two items blue-green and green-blue; I’d have to pretend they aren’t the same thing.)

Sun @ 4:00—Aspiring Writer’s Q&A. (Always has the potential of being interesting.)

Also, here are just a few names of other attendees you should know, and probably do:

Michael R. and Judi Collings: Michael is a retired professor who taught at Pepperdine and one of my favorite panelists. From poetry to Stephen King (and yes, he’ll cover both at CONduit), he ranges as widely as any academic I’ve met without a hint of arrogance. The only nicer person you’ll ever meet is his wife.

Dave Wolverton/Farland (whose doing a special presentation Sat at 1:00, by the way—I’m not sure as whom, but we’ll see). Dave is one of those writers so nice they named him twice.

Jessica Day George, writer of arguably the best embroidery-based novel ever!

James Dashner, who is a great guy but nowhere near as impressive as his name, so don’t be disappointed. He is not, despite the sound, a Jane Austin character.

Rebecca Shelley, fellow assistant scribe in the Dragon Codices.

Julie Wright, who is not a bubbly and adorable sixteen-year-old, though you’ll never believe me when you see her.

Paul Genesse, a friend who is having a book release Fri from 3:00 – 6:00. Get a signed copy or four.

Kathleen Dalton Woodbury, another favorite panelist of mine who happens to have impeccable taste in bracelets/bracers/gauntlets and the like.

Eric Swedin, writer, professor, and friend from Weber St.

Howard Taylor, guest of honor and newly minted Hugo nominee, whose book launch will be Sat at 4:00.

Brandon Sanderson (Sun only), the man brave enough to dare Robert Jordan’s shoes—who has, incidentally, discovered a way to rejuvenate the body completely through writing, thus eliminating all need for sleep.

And Dan Wells (Sun only), who is not a serial killer, and least if you ask him.