There are exceptions.  Rob Sawyer does a wonderful job, but he has a background in broadcasting and he’s done a gazillion of them, I’m sure (and not to say he hasn’t also stumbled in his early days…but it’s hard to compare a veteran with a new(er) writer).  Robert Sawyer also keeps his readings short, then takes questions. But most times, there’s a reason we’re writers and not actors — because we suck.  Yes, I’m lumping myself in with that.  My listening abilities extend to five minutes.  Five minutes and I start to check out (wow, look, a bird).

Yet David Nickle read for a half hour.  I didn’t tune out once.  A half hour?  Why, he must have been a performer and a half!  Did he have strippers with him (sadly, no)?  Props?  Nothing, he just read.  His delivery was nice, of course.  Inflection, pacing, etc, etc but he wouldnt’ be mistaken for a Shakespearean actor.

The first reading I heard of his was for his Flash story: The Mayor Will Make A Brief Statement and then Take Questions.  I assumed it was successful because it was short.  He read the entire thing.  But then he read the opening chapter of his upcoming novel.  It worked very well too.

So why did it work?  Well, simple: characters.  He picked a scene where we were dropped instantly into the main character’s head.  Too many writers (myself included) pick action scenes (because isn’t that what movie trailers do?) but actions without context is just a movie called Transformers.

Just like being immersed when we read for ourselves, his public reading did two things: it put us directly into a character’s POV, and then gave that character a problem (he was going to be lynched!).  There wasn’t extraneous exposition or back story.  Almost everything we needed to know about the character was given by actions and the way people reacted to him.

It also worked well because the chapter could’ve been a short story.  Character, obstacle, solution, more questions.

So…what did I learn for myself?  Aside from the structure, if I can’t find the perfect passage (unlike David Nickle, I won’t be given a half hour…nor would I want to), I’m going to cheat and make the perfect structure.  Cut out extraneous exposition and back story (which, while important with a novel, really aren’t with a public reading).

Sounds easy.  Done!  Now all I need is a book…of mine…to read aloud.   Hmmm, that could be the hard part.

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In the meantime, I let my good friend ‘mousey’ (yes, a mouse) do what he does…take a few licks from my peanut butter jar.  He and I go way back so I don’t mind him helping himself.  Finally, after two hours of distractions, I return to my stale sandwich….as I’m about to take a bite, I stop before my mouth touches the crust…

Mousey is dead.

Poisoned!  By my peanut butter.

I blame Steve (my coworker) who obviously yearns for my corner office.  As of yet, I have no proof that he did it, but Mousey shall not die in vain.

He gave his life for me.  Sniff.

<Yes, I am bored.  No, the peanut butter was not poisoned>

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Who were we up against?  On Spec, Neo Opsis, Rob Sawyer’s Distant Early Warnings, and Julie E. Czerneda & Rob St. Martin’s Ages of Wonder.  Wow.  All heavyweights.

Before the Aurora gala there was still some unfinished business.  A panel on Collaborations (me, Eileen, Billie, and Barb Galler-Smith & Josh Langston of the Aurora-nominated Druids).  The panel went well — especially because we had fans show up.  People who found our book randomly at McNally’s in Winnipeg, enjoyed the book, and decided to come out.

Also partook in a Read-off.  Think of American Idol for writers.  The one thing I learned was how difficult it was to get past the skepticism of the editors.  Now, this was a contest so they were extra harsh, I’m sure.  But one misplaced word and you were out.  I was ‘buzzed’ by two of the four editors (which was actually pretty good).

Hayden Trenholm, who read the submissions, snuck a few professional entries in there.  Not one made it through.  China Mieville, Ursa LaGuin, Stephanie Meyers, and Danielle Steele all got buzzed.

Onto the gala.  At a table of eight, we had Chadwick Ginther and his girlfriend Wendy, Aunt Ruth, Patricia (Eileen’s mom), me, Billie, Eileen, and Harold.  You know, people kept telling us to relax, to enjoy the moment.  And I’m sure that’s sound advice, but difficult to do.

Did I mention that we never bothered with a speech (or even talking about it) in fear of jinxing ourselves?

Hayden Trenholm presented our category and when we won, he handed us the award (this thing definitely isn’t ending up in a sock drawer).  Hayden is a past winner so he told us to enjoy the moment.

Of course, once at the stage, we were in chaos.  Speech?  What?  Who goes up?  Who tries to hide in the background?

Luckily, I did have a few ideas in mind knowing a) that it would be me forced up there and b) I would probably forget everything.  I thanked the other nominees, the Apocalyptic 4 (the bloodletting in a collaborative project never ends…so this was a biggie), Brian Hades (our publisher) for taking a chance with us, Rob Sawyer for his professional help (more on that in a future post), our families for putting up with our nonsense while this was ongoing, and our fans who voted for us.

It didn’t end there.  Oh no.  Eileen made it 2 for 2 as she won the Aurora for Best Short form.  Rob Sawyer won for Best Long.  All the winners and nominees can be found here.

But as we reveled in our victory, it was so obvious that even though writing is a solitary pursuit, it takes so much to have a successful product (and make no mistake – it is a product). That will be in the epilogue…

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I ventured from the bathroom and discovered it light outside.  Fantastic.  Luckily, Billie (my roomie and one of the Apocalyptic 4) hadn’t needed to use the bathroom during the night.  Otherwise, she would’ve tripped over my body and probably shrieked thinking I was dead (either that or panicking and deciding to dissolve my body in the tub with some HCl).

Either way, it was going to be a busy day.  Unfortunately, my brain was still on the bathroom floor.  It didn’t leave the bathroom floor the whole day.

Really, the first thing I remember is talking to Eileen down on the 11th floor.  Boxed wine will do that to you.  I had a panel at 1pm.  We were going over some of the talking points.  We only had 20 minutes to get our stuff together.

Susan MacGregor, who was also feeling the effects of boxed wine, told us that Sheila Gilbert of Daw books was taking book pitches.  Though I was in no shape for human contact, let alone a pitch, this was simply too good of an opportunity to pass up.

While waiting, ran into Karen Dudley, a mystery writer whom I had met previously at Aqua Books in Winnipeg.  She had done a fabulous reading there so it was nice to catch up.  She asked if I had had lunch yet.  Nope.  ‘Great, lets grab something after our pitches.’  Fabulous.  I’m not doing anything, right?

Just before me was Chadwick Ginther, the book buyer/guru for McNallys.  This guy knows his stuff.  I saw business cards being exchanged and so that was excellent for him.

Now it’s my turn.  I introduced myself (so far so good) then immediately went into my pitch to Sheila.

“It’s about a guy…” (anyone who has done a pitch, knows that those are the worst words EVER).  I fumbled, tripped, and stumbled.  Luckily, Sheila was generous and when I said ’sorry, my brain isn’t functioning’ she allowed me to read my pitch .  So I read it (which is also a big no-no).

She said nothing so I assumed she wanted more and I decided to fill in the blanks.

“It’s about a guy who, wait, there’s a sword.  And then this giant who jumps off a tower.  Hold on, I screwed that up.  So then the snake bites him, because he’s afraid of heights, and when the wagon crashes…  I mentioned the shark, right?  Let me start over…”  This went on for five hours (or three minutes, but I’m pretty sure it was at least three hours).

After flailing for so long, I finally end it with ’so would that be interested in something you’d like to see’? (I think at this point I was already packing my stuff to excuse myself) but she said ‘You had me with your copy pitch.  I just wondered what else you had.”

Right.  My own ineptitude couldn’t sink me!  So she asked to see the completed manuscript in three weeks.  Score!

Hmmm, I’m free now.  It’s 1pm.  Do I have anything planned?  Nope.  Free.  I’ll just wander downstairs and hang out for a while until Karen’s free for lunch.

So I did.  Hung out for a while.  Tried to recharge, feeling positive about my tiny victory.  Really just waiting around until Karen gets out of her pitch session.

Am I supposed to be doing something right now?  Nope, couldn’t be.

I’ll just poke my head into this room and see what the panel is.

Crap, it’s my panel.  And I’m late. The panel?  Time Management.  Yeah.  So Eileen spots me, calls me over.  I sit and quite honestly, Billie says ‘So what can you add’?  Are you kidding me?  I can’t string two coherent words together, the panel is 15 minutes in…and…what was the question again?

Crap, Karen is waiting for me for lunch.

So I excuse myself from my own panel (I have to get some water…but there’s water right here…ummm, fresh water) to tell Karen Dudley that I can’t make it.  And run into Rob Sawyer and his gang who want to talk about the pitch from before.

“Sorry guys, I’m in the middle of a panel.”

Strange stares.

“Like right now.”

Sigh. So I finish off the panel.

Next up – the latest incarnation of the Apocalyptic Four meets with our publisher (Brian Hades).  He was interested in taking a look – so that’s good news.  Had to excuse myself early, however.

When writers are making outlines, often we put stuff down like ‘action happens here’ or more famously ’stuff happens.’  Well, for the next four hours, ’stuff happens’.  I’m supposed to be a in a Read-Off but my story wasn’t finished (too bad, it was cool) so I had to skip.  Then I was going to watch Eileen but they had 27 people read at 5 minutes each.  I was in no condition for that.  (The good news is that Eileen came 2nd and a publisher approached her after asking if she had anything longer completed.  Excellent news!)

I went to dinner with Robert Sawyer, Virginia O’Dine, Hayden Trenholm, Liz Trenholm, Chadwick Ginther, Karen Dudley, and Karl Johanson.

More stuff happened.  I call it an early night because Sunday was the Aurora’s.   I’ll take it easy…recharge…recycle…reuse (or whatever).  In fact, I started sucking other people’s energy.  Eileen, standing next to me, looked at me and said ‘You’re draining energy from the room’.  Nice.  Thank you, Eileen (she then took two steps back).

Saturday ended up a huge positive.  Successful pitch to New York publisher, successful pitch to current publisher, and I learned a thing or two about Time Management.

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This was a big weekend for the Apocalyptic 4.  An Aurora would mean a lot – would expand our reach as a group and as individuals.  Perhaps enable us to take the next step.

First (and only) stop Friday night was the Basterds party (yes, that’s what they called it) and it was hosted by the Aurora nominees (Long Form English): Leslie Carmichael (Amulet of Amon-Ra),  Robert J Sawyer (Wake) , Barb Galler-Smith and Josh Langston (Druids),  Hayden Trentholm (Steel Whispers),  Edward Willett (Terra Insegura).

As usual, met lots of great people, or became reacquainted with others.

I had planned on being a good boy.  I really did.  I planned on not partaking in the parties.  Be professional.  Be professional.   And professional I was.  A professional who drinks too much wine.

I did, however, commit to redoing the Aurora Awards website (sorry, boys, I know you did your best, but it needs some help).

But then we got into the boxed wine.  Now, make no mistake.  It wasn’t just me.  There were others who thought wine from a box was a good idea.  And I have proof that you were there.  How?  Because they graciously signed the book I had just bought (Edward Willett’s book Marseguro…which I bought when Rob Sawyer put me on the spot by saying to the room ‘Ryan, you have a job, why don’t you buy a copy?’).  You see, they signed it because I had gone missing and left it behind.

The signatures:  ‘Drink much fool!’ (Virginia O’Dine), ‘Ryan Out’ (Susan MacGregor), ‘Not so Awesome’ (Barb Galler-Smith), and ‘Where’d you go?’ (Liz Trenholm).

All deeply touching sentiments and I’ll cherish them always.

Why was I missing?  Once again – boxed wine.  My body suddenly decided, on its own, that my night was done.

So I went and slept on my bathroom floor, of course.

It is made of tile.

Ceramic tile.

I slept that way for six hours.

Have you ever slept on a tile floor for six hours?  Be honest.  Because if you have, you know that the points of your hips are not meant for sleeping on said floors.  It felt (feels) like someone kicked me with steel-toed boots.

Maybe it was the drinking of wine from a box.  Or maybe it was the Jack Daniels that Hayden was spreading around.  Either way, the night ended in a spectacular flame out.  Last 5% of the night — not so good.  First 95% spectacular.

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My main three were:

still (had 222 of these)
very (had 96 of these)
just (86)

I think it indicates a general weakness in the writing.  Or perhaps breaking that rule with fiction writing:  eschew verbiage.

That was nearly three years ago.  A lot has happened since then (wow, a whole lot).

Anyhow, I’m currently working on Ghost in the Machine, my contribution to the followup anthology to Women of the Apocalypse.  I’m knee deep in edits and I went back to that list of excessive words.  And while Ghost in the Machine is 25K (1/4 the length of Curse of the Black Swan), you’d think that I’d have 1/4 the words listed above (so 50-60 ’stills’).  This time, I only removed 3 stills.  1 very.  8 justs.  Interesting that once you can see your weakness, once it’s pointed out, you can start to correct even before the editing process.

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I’ve been impatiently waiting for this title since it was announced by Chizine Publications (the little press that could…these guys rock).  I was actually going to pick it up at Ad Astra, but I decided to pick it up on Saturday when I was at Chapters in Edmonton for my own book signing.

Synopsis: St George and the Dragon. A lie.  Poor George didn’t defeat the Dragon but was eaten.  The quest fell to his descendants, who also failed.  Right up until present day when Georgia takes up the mantel from her father.  Childless, she is the last of the line.  It is up to her.

Hell, that alone is a catch, isn’t it?  Except poor Georgia is a drug addict.  Heroin (thus Chasing the Dragon).  More and more I’m liking these novella-length works.  You can go a little crazier, do a little more — without worrying about the weight of the thing collapsing under the length of a novel.

Kaufmann is an outstanding writer.  Sparse descriptions that instantly crystallize the setting.  Great uses of threads and flashbacks.  Since it’s a novella, there really is only one narrative stream — but his use of flashbacks and dream sequences makes it feel much larger than it is.

The main character Georgia is a real anti-hero — running from her destiny, she hits rock bottom, gets hooked, then takes up the task of defeating the Dragon…all the while trying to figure out where to score her next hit (is it a hit with heroin?  I have no idea…whatever it’s called).

Exploding cars, shotguns, undead, dragons, drug addicts, gangs…it moves relentlessly, giving us enough of a breather to sprinkle the backstory of not only how Georgia came to be a Dragonslayer, but a drug addict.

If I had to label one negative (and it was a small thing) it was the climax.  I don’t want to give away whether poor Georgia succeeds — but let’s say it didn’t quite hit the right note for me.  It was close, but I would’ve liked it slightly different (it felt inevitable…so when it didn’t happen the way I had anticipated, it didn’t feel quite right).  That wouldn’t be enough, however, to knock it from a five-star review.

Another hit from Chizine Pub (man, these guys know how to do books– from the writing, to the covers, to even their website).

Five out of five stars.

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The Aurora Awards are for the best Canadian SF/fantasy of the year  as voted by the fans.  Voting has begun.  The cost is $5 and you can vote here: http://www.prix-aurora-awards.ca/English/AwardProcess/votingForm.php— with the winning selection announced at Keycon in Winnipeg the May 21st-23rd weekend.

For more information about the Aurora Awards, go here: Aurora Awards

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There’s a sign that says ‘Take a Number’.

The current number is 2.

I stand there, not taking a number because there’s no one else there.  The one girl doesn’t bother looking up from her screen.  Not a hello, not a ‘I’ll be with you in a moment’.  Nothing.  The other girl is on the phone.  Hmmm.  Starting to feel a little out of place now.  So I start the conversation.

“How are you today?”
The girl typing ignores me.  The girl on the phone smiles.
Okay, so that’s how it’s going to be.
A third girl comes up front.  She also refuses to make eye contact with me.  The phone-girl hangs up.  The typing girl says to the new girl ‘We took a vote and we’ve decided that you’re not doing your fair share.  We all have to come in 15 minutes early so you have to as well.’
“But my shift doesn’t start until 8.”
“We took a vote.  We’re having to pick up your slack.”
I’m really uncomfortable now as I”m embroiled in their conflict.  Yet I cannot sit down because I’ll look like a complete ass – like I don’t know what I’m doing.

A second guy walks in.  He comes in behind me and takes a number.

No sooner had he taken that number that typing girl (henceforth known as Bitchy Girl) says ‘Number 2′ please.

So guy hands his number over.

“Are you kidding me?” I say.

The guy thinks I’m upset with him but tell him that it has nothing to do with him.  He’s confused because he doesn’t realize he’s stepped into Bitch-girls world.

He’s now talking with Bitch girl but he puts number 2 back.

I take it because obviously, that’s her game.

“Number 2 please”.

Both me and dude are staring at her.  WTF?  Are you serious?  You’re booting him out now?

“I can only take the person who is holding the number 2.”

“But he had number 2 because you wouldn’t see me without a number,” I say.

Guy says “There’s no one else here.”

“Sir, I can only handle one person at a time.”

We’ve stepped into the movie Brazil.  It is finally decided that I will be 2, and he will be 2A.

“Please wait until we call your number,” she says again.

She waits for us to sit then: “2 is next.”  I stand.  “2A please.”

The pulling of the blood takes 30 seconds (I’m in room 3…because it must have some bearing on this, right?)

I meet the guy in the parking lot 1 minute later.

“Have a good day 2A.”

“Back at you, number 2.”

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I had a fair amount of interest in it — again $75.  I had a bunch of people lined up to come see it one weekend two months ago.  There were two notables: the first on Saturday, and the second on the Sunday. They asked me lots of questions about it first.   I sold it to the first guy who saw it.  Some young kid named Dustin.  Now, this guitar came with a quick explanation:

Why are you selling it: because it turns out I’m not very musical and I don’t use it

The Price is a little high, will you come down? No, if you really want a cheap one, go to Excess Cargo.  They sell for $70.

Is it in mint shape? No, it’s $75.  It’s fairly beatup though the strings are new.

So Dustin gives me $75 and goes on his way.I get this email the other day (two months later):

BTW this guitar you sold me wasnt in perfect condition – your new bridge is crooked and is pulling sooo tight on the strings that there is a huge bump on the body right below the bridge. The night I took it home, I realized it but didnt know anything about guitars so I thought nothing of it…. My guitar teacher saw it cause im a total beginner – thats probably why you were in such a rush to sell it! Way also to jack up the price, I guess the pressure could pull it apart any day.
If you get back to me the honest thing to do is to give me my money back and you can have the guitar back.

As a compromise I will take $100.00 back - and give you the guitar, I need that money so I can buy something that isnt gonna fall apart, iam pretty upset but I would really appreciate it if you could get back to me.

I wasn’t going to reply.  I made it fairly obvious it was a buy-at-your-own-risk type affair…as well, it’s been two months, and they’re asking for an additional $25!
I replied:

When you’re asking for your money back, you shouldn’t preface your email by calling the person a cheat and a lair.

They sent me a few threatening emails saying ‘what goes around, comes around’ and what not and I actually considered giving them $50 back. I consider myself pretty honest on Kijiji. If something’s broken, they can bring it back (only one person ever took me up on this…and they ended up keeping it anyway).

However, after another threatening email, I finally reply:
- I told you I knew nothing about guitars. The condition it was in was same condition I bought it. I don’t know how to play and I don’t know anything judging the condition of guitars.
- Anxious to sell it to you? Whatever. You sent me emails over 2 weeks asking about it.
- Jack up the price? I bought it for way more than that. I TOLD you that if money was a huge issue, go buy one from Excess Cargo.

They replied immediately:

Wow,
And I’am lost I paid you 140 for the guitar 2 weeks ago. Im sooo lost.
You said you’d been playing guitar for 3 years, and were getting rid of this one because you were getting a new one. You never said anything about Excess Cargo, and I never said anything about money being an issue. You wanted to meet me in a panic, and were asking me to leave work early and do all of this stuff, wanting me to come to your work and then changing your mind. You work at the beer stock in North London, the one on Sarnia right???
Oh well, like I said what goes about comes around, I have all of the emails and text messages to prove it.

You know that you sold be a bum guitar. Wow, I have never actually dealt with some this deceptive… This is all very strange to me, its actually worrisome that you are completely fabricating a total lie. It wont work for you very long, your a young guy and soon enough you will learn.

Huh. So now it finally clicks in. I’m not talking to the same person. I know what you’re thinking: but, Ryan, how could you be so stupid as to not realize that this was a different person? Because (and this is where it becomes interesting)…this ANGRY person was the person who was supposed to come see it on the Sunday. She never bought it from me — but her email was in my computer, under the Kijiji ad…and I thought it was just him emailing from another account.

To make it even funnier — Dustin (the first guy) stole my Kijiji ad and posted the exact same ad (but for $140!) — which is probably why she was confused (she replied to the ad…not knowing they were different people). The second person bought my guitar from Dustin, a month and a half later, at double the price.

I sent her an email with all the correspondence and how she’s bugging the wrong guy.

Oddly, I haven’t heard from her since…

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