So, the A to Z challenge is over, and it’s back to things as usual.  I hope you guys enjoyed it–I’ll probably compile the posts at some point, update them to add some more examples and references, and put it out as a $2.99 ebook.  When I get around to it, that is.  If that’s something that interests any of you, let me know and I’ll get it up sooner.

As far as writing goes, I just went back to work on Lifewalker yesterday, and the story is coming along swimmingly.  This is the post-apocalyptic story about a guy wandering down the ruins of I-15 with a copy of Brandon Sanderson’s Mistborn.  I checked with Peter and Brandon about that, and they said it’s okay.  In fact, they think it’s hilarious.  And it is, I suppose, though the book takes itself fairly seriously.

Just to give you an idea what I’m talking about, here’s an excerpt:

The first night, I stayed in a small village known as Sannakin. The people there were surprisingly friendly, though they assured me that they would have been more cautious if I had come from the south.

“What’s south of here?” I asked the village patriarch over dinner.

He shrugged. “Don’t know—never been that way. Get a lot of tinkers, though, and a merchant ever now and again. There’s people out there, that’s for sure—but it’s a wild and a dangerous country.”

I paid them for their hospitality by reading from Mistborn: The Final Empire. The story confused many of them, especially those who had never seen the ruins of a city. I explained to them that the forefathers used to live in great communes of thousands, or even tens of thousands of people. This sparked a vigorous discussion over how such a large community could possibly provide enough food for itself, and how it would handle the waste. Some people asked me if in the days before the Blight, ash covered the sky as it did in my book. I answered that it probably had, though doubtless the author had exaggerated it somewhat for the purposes of the story. This led to an even more vigorous discussion about the merits of fantasy stories in general, with most of the villagers forming a decidedly negative opinion of the genre. I strongly disagreed, of course, but held my tongue so as not to offend my hosts.

Today, I wrote a passage where the main character had to mediate an argument between two scholars over who was the primary god in the forefather’s pantheon: Batman or Superman.  In a few chapters, he’ll rescue a girl from a band of bloodthirsty cannibal slavers infesting in the ruins of Las Vegas.

As you can tell, this book is a lot of fun. :)

As for the publishing side of things, I’m working with an illustrator to get the cover ready for the first Star Wanderers omnibus.  It’s going to be for Parts I through IV, but don’t worry–if you’ve already bought the parts individually, there won’t be any new content except the author’s note.  I’ll either publish that here or send my newspaper subscribers a link for where they can read it.

I’m not sure if anyone really reads the author’s notes at the ends of my books, but I enjoy telling the story behind the story, so I’ll keep doing them.  Besides, I figure some of you have read them, since you’re signing up for my email newsletter and sending me an occasional fan emails.  I really enjoy those, by the way, so thanks for sending them!

That’s just about it for things over here.  In unrelated news, I recently discovered an excellent sci-fi webcomic.  It’s called Freefall, and the archives stretch waaaaay back to 1998 (!!!).  So yeah, I’m going to be busy for a while.

But don’t worry, I’ll still find make time for writing.  I’m doing about 2k words per day right now, so at that rate, the first draft of Lifewalker should be finished before the end of May.

Aaand my roommate wants to sleep, so I’d better get off the computer now.  Later!

Marle2You know that innocent and beautiful fairy tale princess, with the tricked out dress and the power to summon woodland creatures?  The one with a tendency to get kidnapped, but who always ends up happily ever after with her prince charming?

Yeah, that’s not this princess.

A rebellious princess would just as soon puke if she were any of those things.  She hates being royalty–she’d rather be one of the common folk, or at least be out doing something (which is why she’s often involved in politics).  She hates all those frilly dresses and tends to wear her hair in a tomboyish ponytail.  Rather than wait for her white knight to save her, she’s much more likely to be an action girl in disguise, or at least something of a badass.  When she grows up, she may become a lady of war.  Invariably, she hates whatever marriage has been arranged for her and often scandalizes those of her class to marry for love (if she even marries at all).

As you might have already guessed, this trope is extremely common, not the least because the princess classic has largely been discredited (at least, outside of Disney).  There’s a lot of variation on it too, with some stories featuring the rebellious princess as the love interest, and others showcasing her as the hero.

George R.R. Martin (Song of Ice and Fire) deconstructs the trope with Arya, who eventually becomes something of a sociopath, and Brandon Sanderson (Elantris) subverts it with Sarene, who very much has the personality but uses her royal position to her advantage.  Frank Herbert (Dune) zigzags with Lady Jessica, who is undylingly loyal to the Atreides family but rebels against the Bene Gesserit.  As you might expect, J.R.R. Tolkien plays it straight, not once but twice: Éowyn in Lord of the Rings, and Lúthien in The Silmarillion.

It transcends cultures, too.  In Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, Jen might not technically be royalty, but she is the governor’s daughter and she does reject an arranged marriage to run away and become a wandering warrior.  And in classic RPGs, especially the old Japanese ones from Square, this trope is everywhere.  The princess in the picture above is Marle from Chrono Trigger, who fits this trope to a T.

So why is this trope so prevalent nowadays?  Probably because the modern feminist movement led us to discard most of our old-fashioned feminine ideals, as well as the characters who were held up as shining examples of them.  That, and rule of drama.  Everything ultimately comes down to rule of drama.

In my own work, Hikaru from Stars of Blood and Glory is an example of this trope, though she’s more of a president’s daughter than a hero or a love interest.  She does have her own story arc, though, and I’ve got a sequel in the works with her as the main character.  Scientists aren’t exactly royalty, but they do consider themselves elites in Genesis Earth, which means that Terra has echoes of this trope.  And in Heart of the Nebula (as-yet unpublished), I’ve got a character who isn’t exactly rebellious, but she does qualify as a badass princess (though the society in question is a perfect techno-democracy and not a monarchy).

I just read a fascinating Q&A on Reddit with Hugh Howey, author of the self-published phenomenon Wool.  After six trancelike hours reading through all the comments, all I can say is “wow.”

Okay, I guess I can say a little more.  Yesterday, I listened to Brandon Sanderson’s lecture on self-publishing from his English 318 class this year.  While I agree with much of what he says, a lot of it is already out of date.  Probably the biggest thing is whether it’s still advantageous for indies to go with a traditional publisher after making a name for themselves.  In 2011, Amanda Hocking had some good reasons for going traditional.  In 2012, Hugh Howey has some very good reasons not to.

The other big thing, though, is this idea of author platform–that to be a successful indie, you have to find some way to drive large numbers of people to your books.  Well, not necessarily.  Hugh Howey was a nobody for three years, and the title that finally pushed him over the tipping point was the one he promoted the least.  To me, that shows:

  1. current sales are not a predictor of future sales, and
  2. a great book will grow into its audience independent of its author.

Granted, there may be a threshold that needs to be crossed before word-of-mouth really starts to kick in, but if a nobody with passable cover art and no author platform can cross it, that threshold isn’t very high–and that’s good news for all of us.

The way I see it, there are three big myths that writers struggle with in making the shift from traditional to indie publishing:

1) The flood of crap books will keep you from getting noticed

This grows out of the paradigm of limited shelf space–that the best way to get noticed is to have your book occupy more space relative to all the other books on the shelf.  This might be true in the brick and mortar world, but the rules are much different in the digital realm.

Think about it: how many new blogs are launched every single day?  Thousands, if not hundreds of thousands.  And yet people still find the good content amid the sea of crap.  On Youtube, an average of one hour of video content is uploaded every single second.  And yet there are still entertainers making a lot of money through their Youtube channels.

The rules in the digital realm are completely different from everything in the physical world.  Figuring that out requires a huge paradigm shift, one that even indie writers struggle with.

2) Publishing a book is an event that must be promoted

This grows out of the paradigm of velocity, or as Kris Rusch puts it, the “produce model” of publishing:

Every month publishing comes out with brand new product. Shelf space is limited in every single brick-and-mortar bookstore.  Big Publishing makes the bulk of its money during the first few months of a book’s existence.  So if a book sits on a bookstore’s shelf until the book sells and that sale takes six months to a  year, the bookstore and the publisher lose money.

Better to dump the old inventory on a monthly basis—for full credit for unsold items—than it is to have the inventory sit on the shelves and grow “stale.”

Of course, the flaw in this logic is that digital shelf space is unlimited, therefore books do not “spoil.” No matter how much time passes, an ebook can still be found in the same place.

Therefore, does it really make sense to make a big deal over an indie book release?  Maybe to jump start some word-of-mouth, but it’s not like your career is going to be harmed if you do nothing.  In fact, it might be better to hold off until you have a few more titles up, so that when you give the first one that push, readers will have something else to read once they’ve finished it.

3) To succeed you need to find a way to “break in”

This grows out of the gatekeeper paradigm, where the system is closed and the few entry points are guarded by a select group of taste makers whose job is to bestow legitimacy on those who meet the qualifications to get in.  It’s the concept of patronage, where success comes from being chosen by a wealthy benefactor, and it’s connected with the idea that you haven’t truly “arrived” until <fill in the blank>.

The flaw with this paradigm, of course, is that publishing is no longer a closed system.  The gates haven’t just been flung open, the walls themselves have been torn down.  The job of the taste makers is no longer to protect readers from the dross, but to lead them to the gems–which is honestly much closer to what it should have been in the first place.

So what does this mean for creators?  It means that there’s no longer a system to break into.  You don’t need to write better than everyone else, you just need to find (and keep) your 1,000 true fans.  Success isn’t bestowed upon you by some higher authority, it’s something that you discover on your own as you hone your craft and build your business.

Honestly, this is one that I still have a lot of trouble with.  When I left to teach English in Georgia, in the back of my mind I had this vague notion that I was going into a self-imposed exile, and wouldn’t come back or settle down until I’d “broken in.” Of course, this made me quite discouraged, because it felt like things were out of my control–or worse, that I’d somehow failed.

But listening to Brandon’s lecture and reading Howey’s Q&A session helped me to remember that it’s all still in my control.  I don’t need a benefactor, I just need a good plan, if that makes any sense.  So right now, I’m thinking things through and making the necessary revisions to that plan.  There probably won’t be any big ones–I still think I’m more or less on the right track–but it will be good to update my paradigm.

By the way, the title of this post applies to the Q&A with Hugh Howey, not to the post itself.  Though if you are thinking of self publishing, I hope it’s helped out in some way.

Also, I just finished part I of Wool, and it deserves every bit of praise that it’s got.  Expect to see a review of the omnibus shortly.

Things look bleak: the Big Bad is on the verge of conquering the world, and the heroes have gathered for one last stand.  Just when it looks like all hope is lost, a horn sounds in the distance, and the cavalry arrive to save the day.  Whether a ragtag bunch of minor characters, an army of unlikely heroes, or the ultra-heroic Eagle Squadron, the timely reinforcements use their overwhelming force to crush the villains and save the day.

When done right, this trope can be one of the defining moments of greatness of the entire work.  When done wrong, however, it becomes little more than a Deus Ex Machina of the most unsatisfying kind.  How, then, can this moment be done right?

As with any Deus Ex, one of the keys is to adequately foreshadow the end.  This often takes the form of Gondor Calls For Aid, when the heroes petition the cavalry for assistance before going into battle. To make things interesting, the relationship between the two parties is often complicated and ambiguous, making it doubtable that the cavalry will actually show up.

However, I think it goes deeper than this.  In order for the arrival of the cavalry to be satisfying, it needs to not invalidate everything that the heroes have already gone through.  If the cavalry shows up after the heroes have defeated the Big Bad, and essentially rescue them from a heroic sacrifice, that’s satisfying.  If the heroes are still fighting the Big Bad and the cavalry comes out of nowhere to hand them an unearned victory, that’s cheap.

In English 318R, Brandon Sanderson often used the film versions of the Lord of the Rings Trilogy to illustrate this.  The Battle of Helm’s Deep was satisfying, because the entire premise was to hold out until the third day.  When Eomer arrived with the Rohirrim on the morning of the third day and swept away the Uruk-Hai, that didn’t invalidate King Theoden’s efforts because all he was trying to do was survive.

In the Battle of Minas Tirith, however, Aragorn’s arrival with the unbeatable army of the dead was kind of cheap, because the premise was to defeat the orcs, not to hold out for reinforcements.  Gondor could have just stood down and let the orc army capture the city, and they still would have won in the end.

The two genres where you’re most likely to see this trope are westerns (trope namer) and heroic fantasy. Just about every David Gemmell novel involves a cavalry moment of some kind, and I looove it.  It’s also quite common in military science fiction, too–basically, any story where war is a major part of the narrative.

The variations on this trope are also quite fascinating.  For example:

Back in English 318 at BYU, Brandon Sanderson used to tell us that there was a big difference between “little-p plot” and “big-p Plot.” The first applies mostly to chapters and scenes, which he said he could teach us.  The second refers to the overall story structure, which he couldn’t teach in a classroom setting and said we’d have to discover on our own.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this recently, because it seems that my books are starting to fall into a recognizable pattern–and that pattern has some interesting potential for serials and other alternate forms of publication.  Each book is divided into 3-4 parts, each part is divided into 3-6 chapters (typically 5), and each chapter is divided into 3-5 scenes.  Here’s how it works:

Chapter 1: Setup for the basic story arc.  Introduction of the characters and setting, the prominent theme or premise, and a little foreshadowing of the coming conflict.
Chapter 2: The inciting incident, a discovery or event that starts the plot rolling and puts the characters in motion and conflict.
Chapter 3: Complications arise, the problem gets worse, the first attempt at a solution fails, generally leaving the characters at a loss.
Chapter 4: Setup for the resolution.  The characters discover or build something that will help them to settle the conflict.  They stop reacting and start to be more assertive.
Chapter 5: The resolution.  The characters either succeed or fail, but the arc comes to a close either way.  The story question is answered, the thematic elements come full circle, and the story either closes or moves on to the next part.

Basically, it’s the 3-act format divided into five chapters.  When I wrote Heart of the Nebula, all four parts fell into this pattern, and now that I’m writing Star Wanderers, I’m finding myself  falling into the exact same pattern again.  Stars of Blood and Glory is a little bit different; there are three parts instead of four, and each part is divided into six chapters instead of five.  But still, it’s all very structured.

In short, Brandon was right.  It took me a few books to really learn “big-p Plot,” but now that I’ve found a story structure that works for me, it’s starting to come quite naturally.

The cool thing about this particular structure is that it’s very conducive to serialization.  Each chapter is between maybe 3,000 to 5,000 words, so each complete sub-arc is between about 15,000 to 25,000.  That’s the length of a short novella, and it takes me only a month or two to write (sometimes three, depending on how much revision it needs).

The only reason I haven’t done more with serialization up to this point is because I’ve found that sharing my work while it’s still unfinished tends to throw a wrench in my creative process.  The idea of publishing a work in progress on a chapter-by-chapter basis scares me, because if one of the story arcs has a flawed beginning, I wouldn’t be able to fix it.

However, by following a five-chapter arc format (with bits and pieces here and there to hint at a larger overarching structure), I can see myself publishing a novel or epic in a serial format.  It would be something like the Perry Rhodan series, which follows an arc structure of 25 to 100 issues (each a small novella) per cycle.

So here’s how I’m thinking of doing it:

  1. Publish the first installment and price it at free while writing the second one.
  2. Publish the second installment and price it at free, raise the price of the first installment to $.99 and write the third one.
  3. Publish the third installment and price it at free, raise the price of the second installment to $.99 and write the fourth one.
  4. Publish the fourth installment for $.99, drop the price of the first installment to free and publish the completed novel for $2.99.

So what do you think?  Does it seem like a good way to publish a book?  It gives the reader a reason to keep coming back, and rewards those who got in early by charging them less for the completed work.  By selling the novel in shorter chunks, I would be able to put more work out and hopefully gain more visibility, especially by making a portion of it free at any given time.

I’m seriously thinking about publishing Star Wanderers this way, once I hear back from Writers of the Future.  I’ve already finished the rough draft for the second part; it probably needs a good revision or two before it’s ready, but since it’s shorter, it shouldn’t take more than a few weeks to get feedback from some first readers and finish the next draft.  And if the third part is already finished by then…

So many awesome possibilities! :) What do you think?

Awwwww!!

The basic principle behind this trope is that when you want your readers to feel some kind of sympathy toward a character, have them pet a puppy / puppy equivalent.  Often used to show who the good guy is, but can also be used to add depth to a villain.

I first learned about this trope in Brandon Sanderson’s English 318 class, where he taught it as a way to build immediate sympathy when introducing a major character.  A good example from his own work is Mistborn, where Kelsier’s first scene shows him giving the manor lord’s food to the skaa.  From that moment on, there’s never really any doubt that Kelsier is the good guy.

Although often used to introduce a good guy, this trope can also be used quite effectively in the middle of the story, especially in a gray and black world where it seems that everyone’s a bad guy.  A good example of this is Shadow from American Gods, who flips a coin with a hitchhiker to see who pays for dinner.  Even though he’s a thief and an ex-convict, he rigs the coin toss so that he can pay for her.  Through little gestures like this, Gaiman maintains rooting interest in his protagonist, even though everyone else in the novel is basically a jerk.

Another good example from a darker work is Angelo Osic from On My Way to Paradise.  On the very first page, a fugitive shows up at his pharmacy booth, asking him to grow her a new hand.  Even though he knows it’s dangerous, he takes her in and does what he can to help her.  Later on, this same character rips out a man’s testicles and guts him like a fish.  As repulsive as that is, however, I still keep rooting for him because I know that at his heart, he’s a good person.

Of course, when used most effectively, the pet-a-puppy moment has to grow naturally out of a person’s character.  Even though Shadow is an ex-con, he served his time and feels genuinely sorry for what he did.  Angelo Osic is a doctor, so it’s natural for him to try to help others; whenever he commits an act of violence, a part of his humanity dies, which becomes a major driving conflict throughout the book.

Don't. Touch. Me.

Finally, though this trope is often used to create rooting interest in a protagonist, it can also be used to add depth to a villain.  A prime example for this is Captain Nemo from 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea.  The first moment happens when he rescues the main characters after their ship sinks, but it happens many more times too, such as when Arronax finds him weeping over a picture of his family.  At the end of the book, even though we know that Nemo is the bad guy, we can’t help but feel a little sorry for him after he’s gone.

Puppy image courtesy Wikimedia.  Cat image taken by me.

I recently read a fascinating post on John Brown’s blog with an interesting exercise for analyzing the kinds of stories you most like to read.  By finding out what really turns you on in a story, you can have a much better idea what to write, and how to make your own stories better.

He prefaced the exercise with a story about the interior designer who helped them to decorate their house.  The designer spread out a number of home magazines in front of them, and told them to go through and tear out the pictures that most turned them on.  After doing this, they analyzed the pictures to see what they had in common, and thus discovered how to best decorate their house.

The exercise works much the same way.  First, pick out five books you really like that immediately come to mind.  Mine are:

As many of you know, these are some of my favorite books of all time.  I’ve reread three of them, and I intend to reread the other two at some point.

Next, pick out the elements that these books have in common.  Here’s what I came up with:

1) Set in a different time and place.

Not all these books are science fiction, but the all take place in a world far removed from our own.  Only Spin takes place largely on Earth, but the events of the story transform the world as we know it so much that by the end of the novel, it’s completely different. SPOILER (highlight to see) Besides, at the very end, the two main characters leave Earth by going through the giant portal to another planet, so the novel is arguably about escaping the world as we know it.

2) Stakes that are much more personal than global.

This was interesting, and highlights something I realized when I compared Merchanter’s Luck with Downbelow Station.  In all of these stories, the central driving conflicts are extremely intimate and personal.

To be sure, many of these stories also have an epic backdrop; Mistborn certainly does.  However, I was much more interested in Vin’s growth and development than I was in how the Ska would overthrow the Lord Ruler–in fact, Mistborn is my favorite book in the trilogy for that very reason.

3) Encourages deep introspection.

This shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise if you’ve followed this blog for a while, but I love love LOVE stories that make me see the world in a new way.  Thrillers and adventures are all fun and good, but if it doesn’t make me think, I’m usually like “meh” at the end.

4) Female characters who aren’t weak or passive.

This one might be a bit more controversial, but in all of these stories, I’ve noticed that the female characters are pretty strong, even if they aren’t all kick-butt Katniss wannabes (ugh…I hate Katniss).  Even in Legend, which is largely dominated by men, you still have the earl’s daughter, who is one heck of a spirited woman.

5) Life and death conflicts.

This is interesting: in all of these books, the threat of death is immanently real.  Some of them, such as Legend and On My Way to Paradise, are among the most violent books I’ve ever read.  I’m not sure what it is, but there’s something about life and death struggles that really draws me.

6) Romantic in a broad sense.

I’m using Tracy Hickman’s definition here, in which romance is all about teaching us to feel and bringing us in touch with our deepest feelings.  That’s the central theme of On My Way to Paradise: learning how to be a man of passion after witnessing some of the worst atrocities of war.

All of these books not only make me feel, they are about the feelings that they inspire.  In other words, the emotional elements of the story are both a part of and deeply embedded in the story’s central theme.

The exercises isn’t complete after this, though.  For the last part, take another five books and analyze them to see how they compare.  My second list includes:

So how does the list stack up?  Let’s see…

  1. Definitely true.  NONE of these stories take place in the world as we know it–and that’s awesome.
  2. A Canticle for Leibowitz might seem like an exception, since it follows the broad rise and fall of human civilization after the nuclear apocalypse.  But the things that really drew me to the story were the more personal elements: the novice who makes the illuminated manuscript of the electrical diagram, for example, or the abbot at the very end who SPOILER tries desperately to convince the single mother not to take her baby to the mercy killing station after the bomb fatally irradiates them.  In any case, it’s telling that A Canticle for Leibowitz made this list, whereas none of Arthur. C. Clarke’s books even came to my mind.
  3. Definitely true.  Even Citizen of the Galaxy, which is more adventure fiction than high concept sf, features a fascinating society of interstellar traders that really made me sit back and think about the way we structure our society.  Heinlein has a really awesome way of doing that with everything he writes.
  4. The only possible exception here might again be Heinlein, who had some very extremist views of women (putting it lightly).  However, if I recall, Citizen of the Galaxy has a female character at the end who helps pull out the main character from his indigent circumstances and helps him to come into his own.  Again, they might not all be kick-butt tramp-stamp vampire slayers, but they certainly aren’t weak.
  5. Less true of The Neverending Story and The Dispossessed, but while the central conflicts might not be about life and death, the threat of death (or a total loss of identity) certainly comes into play.
  6. Definitely true.  Few books have taught me to feel more deeply than The Neverending Story.  An absolutely magnificent piece of literature.

So there you have it.  According to this exercise, I should write books set in another time and place, where strong female characters face life and death decisions that personally impact the people in their lives and make the readers think and feel.  Interestingly enough, that is a PERFECT description of Bringing Stella Home, as well as Desert Stars and Into the Nebulous Deep.

Cool stuff.  Makes me want to write.  So on that note, I think I will.

Wow, the last couple days have been packed with awesome con-stuff, but I’ve got a short break so I thought I’d blog about it.

Thursday was great, attended a few panels but mostly just wandered around meeting people.  I’m a little surprised with how many people read this blog.  Got Brandon to sign my Kindle, and he was really supportive about my decision to epublish.  I seem to be one of the only Utah writers going full-steam with indie publishing, but a handful of others are considering it, though for now they’re in the minority (which surprises me).

Anyhow, Thursday had a couple of really notable panels.  The first was on faith and science fiction, and had both Eric James Stone and Moshe Feder on it, among others.  Excellent discussion, though a couple of the commenters tried to derail it.

I found it surprising that the panelists didn’t have a good answer to my question: how do you reconcile far future sf with millenialist religions?  That’s exactly what I’m trying to do with my Gaia Nova universe–create a far future epic that isn’t incompatible with the major western religions (Islam, Christianity, Judaism, etc).  From the after-panel discussion, I got a strong recommendation to read C.S. Lewis’s space trilogy, so I’ll definitely be checking that out soon.

The other notable Thursday panel I attended was on ebook art, and featured John Picacio and Lou Anders, among others.  John feels pretty strongly that indie writers are seriously devaluing cover illustration, and within the first ten minutes someone in the audience literally told him to f___ off!  Wow, talk about tension–but even though it almost fell apart, the panel turned out to be very enlightening.

Let me just take a moment to say that I’m very impressed with what Lou Anders is doing over at Pyr.  While the rest of the publishing world seems to have their heads in the sand when it comes to the ebook revolution, Lou is one of the few who sees it more as an opportunity than a threat.  I’m not currently looking for a publisher, mostly because I’m waiting to see how things shake out, but I would be very surprised if Pyr is one of the publishers that goes under.

The parties in the evening were pretty good–as always, the Tor party was literally packed.  Brandon saw a group of us clustering together, so he broke us up and sent us off to talk with editors and agents.  He tried to point me out to an agent, but…you know, I’m not really looking for one right now.  Brandon keeps telling me not to believe DWS when it comes to agents, and while I’m certainly not fundamentally opposed to them, I feel that I can better build my career by going in other directions.  At some point in the future, maybe, but for now…not so much.

Speaking of Dean, I spent the whole evening hunting for him, then gave up around midnight only to find out the next day that he showed up at the SFWA suite fifteen minutes after I left (nooo!). And now that it’s 9pm in Reno and the parties are just getting started, I think I’ll cut this blog post here and recap Friday sometime later.

See you around!