the league of reluctant adults

Saturday, 9 AM... ...after partying late into the wee hours of the Tulsa morn, two panelists stumble into the Fangs, Fur and Fey conference room, nursing hangovers, tossing glowers and slurping down lukewarm coffee steeped in grounds-o-bitterness. What better prep could an author have for a panel on The Elusive Snark, I ask? Devon Monk (Magic to the Bone) and Carrie Jones (Love and Other Uses for Duct Tape, seen here screaming after an evil-eye attack from physics guy Jeffrey Richard) joined our mopey band for an hour of talking shit, Barry Eisler, and the definition of "Author Hot" (if you need a full description, you'll have to beat it out of Jaye). All in all, a good time, despite the hour. Plus, we got to give away a big ass bag of signed books and stuff, which of course, I "forgot" to sign--in quotes because I do so love forcing people out of their comfort bubbles to introduce themselves. Breakfast was of the buffet variety, with Dean Lorey (Nightmare Ac...

...yeah. You know, I've had dozens of thoughts lately about stuff I should blog. Because I'm not actively blogging at the moment, I'm doing my little sex workshop, so all my random thoughts and ditherings have been totally unrecorded. And every time I've had one of those ideas, I've thought, "Ooh! I'll blog about that at the League!" But of course I've failed to write them down. So I got nothing. And I'm slowly starting work on a new project, which I hope will be good and fun and all that stuff. It's got dead people in it. And ancient artefacts. And scars. And violent sex. So I'm pretty pleased with the idea, all in all. Now I just have to get working on it. At least I have my laptop back. I've been having problems with it lately. It keeps shutting off on me. So finally on Friday, when it refused to stay on for more than twenty minutes and refused to come back on, we took it to the shop. Turns out, the fan was stuck because the lapt...

First thing is first. Drugs are bad... just say no! Now that that's over, I was on a lot of drugs this week. Morphine, for the most part. It's not as exciting as it sounds. Was in the hospital having a jaw infection dealt with.. good times, good times, but the drugs were amazing. But I have to say... the writing mind and drugs can produce some... interesting.. stuff. We're not talking Jim Morrison Doors of Perception type stuff.. we're talking bad stuff. That's what I get for writing paranormal, huh? Two memories... one was an entire segment where anything I thought of turned to zombies, which is normally a giggly thing for me, but under the influence they were all terrifying. Pack of pens? Turned to zombies. Veggie Tales pirate personified vegetables? Turned to zombies. All haunting. Also, there was this .. thing in one of my hallucinations. It started out looking like an early version of Bugs Bunny and slowly morphed into this creature I found terrify...

Best quote from a panel (so far): "See? You too can grow up to be a black man." -Samuel L. Jackson (an aside on Nick Fury in a panel about the upcoming The Spirit movie) Best moment: My signing at the Pocket Books booth went well, but the coolest moment was the surprise I got when I walked over to the Mystery Galaxy Bookstore booth... Several folks who hadn't been able to get a free copy of STAKED showed up to buy copies for me to sign. *That* was cool. Oh... and the WATCHMEN looks like it is going to be fantastic.

Quick update from Conestoga. So far the convention is all about olives, bats and chicken sex. Good times. The one bad spot so far is that I finally met Mark Henry in person. We hated each other on sight. Now all the authors are splitting up into Team Mark and Team Jaye. There's a rumble planned in the parking lot tonight at 9. I think we all know Team Jaye will emerge victorious cause I'll cut a bitch. More later once I have a chance to gather more blackmail material.

If you're trying to make a choice, there's no question, it's a matter of where you are in your career. For instance, right now I'm in the shifty spot. I love writing conferences, learning new tricks, the whole pitch thing and hearing what people are writing. I've got a lot to be thankful for when it comes to the Willamette Writer's Conference (since it really got the ball rolling toward Happy Hour), so I'm certainly loyal there. But having been published already, it makes more sense (both logically and financially) to reach out to fans, which are few and far between at conferences. On the other hand, I learn nearly as much by presenting workshops and sitting on panels as I do listening to panelists and participating in workshops. Conventions are a great place to do promo and have fun and get plastered and gush over your heroes who might just be there promoing and having fun and getting plastered. You'll learn a lot about what the future holds in your...

(A quick note first--poor Anton is quite ill at the moment, which accounts for his lack of Monday post. Apologies from all of us, and wishes for Anton to feel better soon. I guess that curse I put on him worked, huh?) So. I am clumsy. I have many tales of clumsiness (sounds like a good title for a rather lame antho, doesn't it? Tales of Horror, Tales of Dread, Tales of Clumsiness.) Like the time when, 3 months pregnant with my first, I walked into the couch and dislocated my pinky toe. It literally stuck out at a right angle from the rest of my foot, and hurt like hell. I called my Mom. My Mom, keep in mind, is an emergency room nurse. Sobbing, I told her what happened. Her response--remember, this is the response of a licensed emergency room nurse , who is furthermore my own mother --was to say irritably, "Why weren't you wearing shoes? You know you're clumsy!" Or, the more important parallel to today's story--which is in fact much the same story--would be th...