Wordstock 2009

WORDSTOCK 2009 This final Saturday (October 10, 2009) I was a guest, along with my friend Bob Salvatore, at the Wordstock pageant in Portland, Oregon. This was my first Wordstock, and though I’ve attended different types of conventions, e-book festivals, and conferences before, I even have to confess I hadn’t heard of Wordstock until we were invited, a number of months in the past. It was introduced to me pretty much like this: “Do you want to go down to Portland one weekend in October and do some sort of event with Bob?” “Sure,” I agreed, “why not?” Then because the occasion obtained nearer I began getting busier at work, farther behind on The Fantasy Author’s Handbook, and started regretting agreeing to go. I’ve at all times been somewhat on the shy sideâ€"you could name it Social Anxiety if you want to over-aggrandize itâ€"and the nearer it got to the day of the occasion, the whining began in earnest. Finally it worked out that I would fly into Portland from Seattle on Saturd ay morning (an adventure in itself, in my first ever flight on a prop-driven commuter plane) get there pretty much just in time to check in, do the occasion with Bob and a signing after, have dinner with Bob, his spouse Diane (who travels with him to conventions and signing tours), and our publicist, Sara Easterly, spend one night in a Portland resort, then again on the little plane to Seattle. Okay, I might drive myself to do this. The moment I walked into the conference center in Portland I wished I’d allow them to fly me in on Friday and out Monday morning so I wouldn’t miss a lot of this excellent event. I freely admit that I’m a type of people who at all times thinks he’s going to hate every thing then leaves giddily shocked by how a lot enjoyable I had. It’s sad, really. I’m pathologically unable to sit up for something. Probably nothing thirty years of intensive psychotherapy can’t repair. The flight from Seattle took fifty minutes â€"thirty minutes truly within the airâ€"which is the second shortest plane trip I’ve ever taken. The shortest was twenty minutes gate-to-gate from Chicago to Milwaukee the primary yr I went to Gen Con after transferring to Seattle. The Seattle-based travel workplace at Wizards of the Coast apparently didn’t check with issues like maps and had no concept that by the point you navigate the airports you could drive back and forth between Chicago and Milwaukee twice. Anyway, flying actually is shorter than driving going from Seattle to Portland if for no different cause than neither of those airports are nearly as big as O’Hare. Nothing moves fast at Chicago’s O’Hare Airport, besides perhaps the tempers of the passengers. When I had been given my itinerary from the Wordstock people it mentioned that the best way to get to the conference middle was on Portland’s mild rail system. I’m a suburbanite at coronary heart and have by no means regularly used public transportation. If I’m admitting things, li ke that I always assume I’m going to have a foul time in all places, I may as nicely admit that I’m a terrible snob when it comes to public transportation. But one thing hit me within the air someplace between Seattle and Portland and I made the completely uncharacteristic decision to go ahead and take the light rail from the airport to the lodge. Anyway, I thought, it’ll save me having to entrance cash for a cab. Safe landing in Portland and I found the MAX line, and utilizing the instructions in the Wordstock packet, jumped the purple line to Pioneer Courthouse Square then their walking instructions to the resort. I was by no means lost as soon as, the train was actually kinda fun, and there I was. A shout-out here to the grand old Benson Hotel. Everyone there was terrific and the room had a great really feel to itâ€"one more reason I wished I’d stayed an extra day or two. But there wasn’t too much time to settle in. I wanted to determine how long it might take to get to the convention center via mild rail, and if I was lucky, make it in time for a reading by certainly one of my favourite crime authors, James Ellroy (of The Black Dahlia and L.A. Confidential fame). I came in a few minutes after he’d began however sat in rapt attention to his curmudgeonly, okay perhaps slightly arrogant, however fascinating discuss. He’s quite a showman and could train multiple writer more than a factor or two about the way to learn his own work. Best quote of the dayâ€"I had to write it downâ€"was from James Ellroy with reference to his personal novel, American Tabloid: “Time Magazine stated it was the most effective e-book of the yr. Would Time Magazine shit you?” He answered questions and fended criticism with equal aggressiveness. He’s like the dad from Shitmydadsays, but Ellroy swears more. He’s a conservative and I’m not, sort of a prick, too, but I don’t care. I love his books. The man is the inheritor obvious of Dashiell Hammett and Raymond C handler. Read him. Between Ellroy and the following creator I wandered the floor somewhat, my coronary heart aching for all the little cubicles populated by these lovely, lovely artifacts of a culture nonetheless just trying so rattling onerous: the literary journal. I nearly swooned with memories of my very own long-misplaced Alternative Fiction & Poetry, and remembered my then-girlfriend, now-wife and I sitting at a little table at one thing I remember being referred to as Swampfest (but that might not be it) in Madison Wisconsin, punchily joking that we had been invisible, and promoting three magazines. Fight on, you glorious bastards, you literary journal publishers. Fight on, comrades. Then this guide propped up on a table caught my eyeâ€"wait a minute, I thought. I’d just tweeted (or is it twittered, or twitted . . . whatever) about that book! I’d seen another tweet about it, which led me to a blog that led me to the authors’ web site for the guideâ€"and there it was, an d there were they. I waited my flip, picked up a replica of the guide, and chatted with the co-author, Paul Guinan, while he signed it for me, drawing an image of the eponymous robot, Boilerplate. Then I paid for it, and you should, too. I’m actually not even kidding somewhat bit. Buy this guide. What an excellent shock! After that I wandered back over to the Powell’s stage, which is where Bob and I had been scheduled to talk, and the name on the large display behind this very unassuming, regular guy on stage learn Jamie Ford. His name rang a bell, and I hadn’t heard from Bob or Sara but, so I sat down. Jamie Ford is the author of what is turning out to be one of many darling debut novels of the past few years. I really appreciated the man. I liked what he needed to say and how he chose to say it. I beloved that he talked about his love of James at 15. I thought I was the only one who remembered that one. I only hated him for one thing, he thought of the title Hotel on the Cor ner of Bitter and Sweet before I did. Bastard! That’s a really great title. I promise, Jamie, I will buy your book, and take a look at not to maintain it in opposition to you. During his Q&A, Jamie Ford offered this recommendation to aspiring authors, which he attributed to someone else who’s name he couldn’t recall: “Allow your self to suck.” Marvelous recommendation, which I will steal. Look for it in The Fantasy Author’s Handbook. He elaborated somewhat. He didn’t imply, after all, that you must deliberately write badly, or attain to writing bad fiction, but you must write. If it’s unhealthy, learn from it and do higher next time, and slightly higher after that, but don’t cease your self from writing for worry that what you’re writing isn’t adequate. Better somewhat unhealthy writing that nobody ever reads than you don’t write in any respect and never write Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet. I wish I may have stayed for the rest of his presentation, however I was pulled away by my obnoxiously vibrating cellphone. Bob, Diane, and Sara had arrived. I met them at the doorways to the convention corridor, and we had been working a bit early, so we obtained an opportunity to walk the house collectively for a short time. We met an excellent man from Powell’s who’s name I want I might remember. Then we talked to the stage manager for the event, who’s name I want I could bear in mind. I may want to begin carrying a notebook around with me, or ask for folks’s cards. As a reporter, I suck, and that apart, I’d have liked to have given these individuals credit by name. They deserve it. Anyway, then we went again to the “VIP Room,” which was weird for me. I’m not generally a VIP Room kinda guy. Diane Salvatore and I tried the oxygen bar. It smelled good, however I can’t say it did a lot else for either of us. Someone gave me slightly pink pin that read: DON’T BE A PICKY READER, which I pinned to my shoulder bag for all of the world to see, as a result of I agree with the sentiment. We were then summoned to the stage and the speak itself seemed to go by in a flash, although it was an hour lengthy. Bob and I talked about the distinction between shared world and novelizations, our fantasy roots, the trials and tribulations of sustaining a shared world and a solid of characters for more than twenty years, the perils and pitfalls of transferring the world ahead, and we disagreed on World of Warcraft. Hopefully someone recorded it and there’s a transcript obtainable someplace. I was sensible, and Bob was pretty good, too. After our little canine and pony show, Bob and I had been hustled off to the signing space the place they had a table all arrange for us. We had about fifty people in line already, and I was gratified that the people at Powell’s had brought a bunch of copies of A Reader’s Guide to R.A. Salvatore’s The Legend of Drizzt along with The Ghost King, so I had one thing to signal as nic ely. Bob signed the primary guide then a very loud voice came over the PA and in no uncertain terms announced that Wordstock was closed for the evening and everyone must leave instantly. This engendered groans from me, Bob, Sara, Diane, the 2 guys helping us from Powell’s and Wordstock, and the entire line of readers. We all laughingly selected to ignore it. We signed a couple extra books then they turned off many of the lights. We pressed on, cheerfully signing in twilight darkness whereas a safety guard circled us like a barely peckish shark. Finally, one of many Wordstock guys came again and reassured the individuals waiting in line that there was no drawback, they might keep until everyone received their books signed. The fans had been friendly and it was great talking to them. That oddball bit of schedulingâ€"stage interview at 5:00 followed by a signing at 6:00, however the exhibit hall closes at 6:00â€"was the only weakness exhibited by the Wordstock people, and they cheerf ully made it right. No one who wanted a book signed was turned away. I think we had been all in a fantastic temper after we left the darkened Wordstock behind. I wished I could have come back for Sunday’s events, however drowned my sorrows in a incredible dinner at The London Grill, within the Benson Hotel. Used to be I thought the one reason to go to Portland is to go to Powell’s, which is an unassailably nice bookstore, however they’ve received some terrific restaurants, too, and good individuals, and a hippy performs guitar and sings next to the Starbucks in the airport, and there’s that great gentle rail system that even snobby Phil discovered to navigate like an area. Thank you Wordstock and Powell’s. Thank you, Sara. Thank you all people who made it potential, and I hope you’ll invite me again once more. If you don’t, I’ll simply pay my own way and present up as a fan. Wordstock guidelines! â€"Philip Athans About Philip Athans Hey Philipâ€"Just as I left the stage, I remembered who mentioned, “Allow yourself to suck…” It was Brandon Sanderson. Great quote! And I picked up Boilerplate too. Lavishly carried out, detailed in an nearly OCD sort of means. Cheers! Hi Phil: I was one of many Wordstock of us, hovering within the black shirts, defending you and R.A. from the uniforms in the writer signing space after the pageant closed. Just needed to thank you for your sort phrases and return the sentiment: We love all you authors, especially the adventurous ones. Let’s simply call it a “mutual admiration” society. We hope to see you once more next yr. -Hanna p.s., I’m not sure who your stage manager was, however the very pleasant guy from Powell’s is Scott. You can discover him at the Hawthorne location most days of the week. Well then a hearty thank you to Hanna and Scott! Oh, please, before you write again, study to spell “rapt attention.” BUT, I even have by no means missed a Wordstock; it's the greatest. Also, of course, public transport in Portland: many of us have no gasoline-guzzling private vehicles in any respect. Thanks for coming. Ugh . . . editor, edit thyself. Fixed it!