OZERO

VCON 2011, Day 1, Part 3: Reading!

2011-11-17T21:08:00.000-08:00

Long time, no post! Sorry folks! My original plan was to get these VCON blogs out a lot quicker, as happened last year. This year, I blame a combination of a surge in writing, (The Serial Bleeder- working title..) coupled with something I didn't have last year- My 2nd kiddo. (who today, turns half a year old, wheee!) (note: this entry took 12 days to write.... so.... yeah. He didn't turn 6 months today anymore.)

But enough.. where was I? Right, I had just closed my table for the first day. With last year's 'new book launch event' being a bit of a flop for all, with (among other issues) no readings done, I was told that I could do a reading from 'Echoes of Erebus', despite it being no longer quite as new.

Awlright, Game on. Hey, I haven't thrown the title up in a while, EAT PITT MEADOWS SKY, AND MY COUSIN'S HAND, INTERNETS!

Cabling/fishing tackle supplied by photoshop.

The kicker was, the event started at the EXACT moment that the vendor room shut down. Making sure I wasn't first to read, I settled my table in for the night, then sped to check into my hotel room, (which was about a block away due to the convention's hotel telling me online, months ago that the wheelchair rooms were already booked,) to drop of a bunch of overnight crud.

I had planned to be shmoozing and chattin' it up late into the night, so ditching the luggage early was a minor investment in time that was well worth it. I made myself passingly familiar with the room I got, (a mirror image of the one from last year) and went back to the convention.

The event was well underway, and Sandra Wickham was half way through her reading. I learned from her reading that if you KNOW you're going to have a carnivorous demon-child, it is very wise to have sung to it during pregnancy. Bonding is important. Sandra's awesome. I know I've mentioned her before. Long story short, last year I encountered her a couple times at VCON, and when I got her as a friend later on facebook, I was stunned to find that she can look like this:That's her mode probably for competition or something. In 'pumped' condition, 'tanned' for the show. She doesn't really look anything like that most of the time. No, as she did her reading, she looked like this:

I was trying to get a closeup of her smile.. I had been chatting with her idly, when we turned to face each other. I had forgotten the fangs and red eyes, and found myself genuinely startled. But, she posed her costume. Who am I to say no? That turned out well, as it turned out I was the only one to get a decent shot of her outfit that night.

Anyway, once she was done, someone I didn't know came up to read, and I found it hard to pay attention, instead trying to get myself in the right mode to do a reading. I'd stayed away from the energy drinks for a while. I'm hyper enough at readings, and a shot of taurine results in mess ups galore, and reading too fast.

I made that effect work for me 2 years previous. I chose a scene in 'Watching Yute' where Jacob Kirison is asking a mob-boss for a favour, quite jittery and nervous about being fitted for cement shoes for showing disrespect. When interviewed later that night, I told one Mr. Lee Tockar that I felt pretty good about how the reading went. He corrected me, and told me that I had nailed it. I didn't complain. I didn't catch his name that night, and I spent a couple years wondering if he did anything with the footage he shot of me. Well, he did at least one thing, as google and youtube ended up telling me. It's not all about me, but I'm in it, so.. whee!!!!

Anyway, back to the present-The previous reader made a self-defacing comment about her height when the mic had to be lowered for her. When I rolled up after her, I peeked at her from around the edge of the podium, and said something like "and you think YOU'RE short!" Soon, if became apparent that the mic was going to have to be dislodged, and held-held.

I rambled for a moment about having to make my choice of passages for the moment. My decision was one that I had read a few times in smaller writer meets, so my mouth knew it well enough. Meetups are a great way to polish your public speaking, by the way, as long as you can learn from your blunders. My tip to prevent from reading too fast- imagine Johnny Cash. Ditch the accent, keep the pace.

Alright, read. "Chapter zero." Chuckles came from different spots in the room. Alright, an easy crowd! That wasn't even meant as a joke! Maybe I wasn't the only one who'd had a slug from a canteen or flask.

For the record, 'Echoes of Erebus' has a lot of central characters who have roots in the digital domains. Computers start counting at zero. This was the first chapter. Zero. AKA the prologue. In all reality, the chapter is labeled ":::C / [000000] [00] [prologue]" But that's a bit of a mouthful for reading out loud. It would have messed with the flow. So "Chapter Zero" did the job.

Oh, if you want to read it, (and the first half of the book) you can read a free sample at smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/20604 . I like paper books better, and ebooks don't let me control the formatting as much, but it's hard to argue with the costs.

I continued on, acting my way through the split-personality monologue that was 'Jonathan Coll' at that point in his life. People chuckled at the right places, and I didn't fumble anywhere that I couldn't work it into his own confusion. I didn't have to be told, I nailed this reading. That didn't stop a few people giving me figurative and literal pats on the back now and then for the rest of the night.

I don't set out to write humour. But I'm a smartass. It's going to come out. Half my characters are various magnitudes of smartasses. Yet somehow they get by.

A few more people read after me, and somewhere in there, A Wild Gabe Appeared! Y'all remember Gabe? Last year, he bought my combat spatula, despite that I hadn't built it for selling. This year, he was similarly interested in my "Most useless robot ever" and my BBQ brush.... Pictured here leaning against the robot. See if you can identify the various features of the brush listed below!
"FROM THE MINDS THAT BROUGHT YOU THE COMBAT SPATULA:
World's First Telekinetically* Driven Recon B.B.Q.** Brush

*Brush is not inherently telekinetic. User telekinesic expertise is required.
**B.B.Q. Stands for 'Being of Best Quality***' Do not use the Brush on a barbecue grill, as the heat will interact with cheap Chinese plastic, and potentially emit harmful toxins.
***Not really of best quality, as reflecting the cheap Chinese plastic, and other quality-impairing factors.

- Optical Visual Precision Module
- Photonic-Based Night-Vision Assistant ('Normal' mode and 'Funk')
- Multi-Segment Secret Alloy.... thing.
- Forced-Air Sonic Navigation Tool with Thermal Sensor Array
- Synthetic Organic Compound Stabilizers
- Oscillating Dual Symmetrical Airfoil Propulsion Assist

------------
Those are all on there!... give or take elaborations.

When when the readings were over, Gabe was disappointed in having missed my reading. So, I figured I'd do an encore, but Gabe quickly realized what I thought he knew, what I had told him before, indeed what I had been telling people since last year's VCON- No new book for the 2011 VCON! Alas, Alack. Gabe survived. I'd seen him more throughout the weekend, but he vanished, IIRC, to the games room. Memory fog here.. I may have went with him for a bit before returning to the area where the readings happened...

I'm writing this 2 months later, so some of the events are probably a little out of order, but somehow I ended up going in a group of four, consisting of myself, Sandra, and two of her friends. We were aiming for the hotel lounge/bar on the main floor.

One of these friends was Kristi Charish. She's a molecular biology biochemist. Or something. The other friend was... frig.. I forget her name. She's a dancer, from what I could gather, specializing in ballet. She had a fun story about taking a hiphop dance class. "Ballet is all 'up', feet together, tippy toes. Hiphop is all down, spread stance, flat feet. It was so weird, so opposite of what's usually natural for me." (...from my 2 month old memory)

I felt like I was in a setup for a bad joke. A female body builder, a ballerina, a biochemist, and a paraplegic walk into a bar. Well, except the paraplegic, who rolled..

Sandra's red contacts were driving her nuts, so she fled to get into something more comfortable, but when she returned, she rambled with glee about the new stuff she'd been doing in her martial arts class. "Weapons!!!" She's like a plaid belt now. Awww as if she'd need a weapon to crumple anyone in the hotel.

Being immersed in nerdiness for the weekend but stopping for a drink with the ladies, in mostly non-nerdy talk, reminded me of how relaxing it can be to just idly chat with the opposite gender, in roughly my age range. I'd first realized this in junior high, which had solidified me in the friend zone for pretty much every girl I knew. How bout that, huh?

So, the bar was closing. At midnight. On a friday night? I guess they don't want a mass of drunken behaviour in the main floor, but.. yeesh. Sandra had lured me along here (not too hard) by offering to buy me a drink. By the time I finished that one, we were told things were shutting down. Not having to pay, but also being evil, I asked the waitress to break a $20 bill into fives. Muahaha, little did she know, I needed the fives for my nearly-expended float at the dealer's table. I didn't come as prepared this year. My books are $15, and most people are carrying $20s. I don't wanna eff with coins, so I only sell anything in $5 increments. (.... mostly... other than candy)

Eventually driven from the bar, there was some mumblings about heading to a bar down the street, but the annoying responsibility thing tipped the scales in favour of everyone going to their rooms and sleeping. I had to be at my table the next morning at the wee hour of 10 AM. Ooh! and I had to be up a little earlier to see the day-old rerun season finale of Dr. Who! (nerdy, remember?)

If I ever get around to the next VCON entry, it'll be day 2.. Paper,rock,scissors(lizard,vulcan) for candy? The dance, Csffa party, gaming room? what else...

VCON 2011, Day 1, Part 2: VEND!

2011-10-07T08:53:00.000-07:00

Let the haphazard capitalism commence! Well, I'm sure most of the vendors that show up have some semblance of professionalism, but let me tip you off, I'm not one of THOSE types.

That said, this was my fourth time at bat, and I'd seen some trends I could expect:

-Every friday is slow as hell.Wrong kind of friday-hell. As I was saying..

Most people don't get off work until two hours before the vendor room closes, and then they just want to do selfish things like drive home and/or eat. At the end of friday, you can spot the newbies, with a look of "OMG, what am I doing here, sales were crap, I'm wasting my time and money, I'm gonna to into the corner and cut myself."

I sagely say to such folks, "Take it easy, this was friday. Think of it as dress rehearsal. Most of the visitors will be floating around the con all weekend, and will be back. They're not in a rush to buy, they're on recon." Wisely wise, do I enwisen my wisdoms. Enwisen. It's a word. I just invented it, I'm allowed, I'm a writer.

-Every saturday is the BIG day. I'm not in it 'for the numbers', I'm in it to get my stories into people's hands primarily, but if the numbers are there, I'll keep an eye on them. And saturday is the bringer of numbers. I've heard other vendors say similar things.

-Every sunday is for the slow deciders, the 'orbiters' who orbit the con taking everything in, finally settling in to pick something up that they've had their eye on since friday. This is also when polite vendors wait to buy from other vendors, as to not deplete stock before visitors have a chance. Sunday always feels slow after saturday, but not nearly as bad as friday.

Penny Arcade has noticed many of these trends as well.
What?? Somehow, friday sales were pretty good! There was talk about the con being bigger this year! Obviously this increase will follow throughout my preconceived pattern, resulting in a bajillion sales on saturday! Right? Right? Oh, I'll have to look forward to that...!

At any rate, the first order of business for me is always to take my 2 given VCON bucks over to Kyle at his bc chains table. Aside from his custom made chain maille stuff, he also always brings candy. Eeeeeheeheee candy! A couple years he brought some that came in little round tins that make great rpg dice containers.

Not this year though... not that I don't have enough from previous years. For that matter, I also had my own little stock of candy. I was ripping off Kyle's tactic a little this year, putting a little box of candy out, for a buck a pop, or my own chomping. My offering was smaller, I didn't want to try to take over the VCON candy industry.. yet. But getting candy from Kyle has become my own custom, every since the year I had my table across from his. Candy.

I think it was friday that Plotbunny showed up. She had emailed me a week or two previously. She's read all 3 of my books, and her favourite was the first. She had bought 2 copies of the paperback for Lifehack over the years, (as well as nabbing a poster or two) and she wanted hardcover now. She wanted hardcover last year, but I hadn't brought hardcover to VCON for a long time. They're pricey, both for me, and the end reader. Aside from hardcover fans, they just don't move that well. Not well enough for me to sit on a stack for potentially years.

But.... Plotbunny's an awesome gal, and obviously a fan of Regan's, so who am I to say no? At that point, I wasn't sure of the time to get an order, and for that matter, getting a single book would make the shipping really.. lame. I order in batches so the shipping per book is negligible. I didn't need a big batch of hardcovers. So... I brought my own personal trio of hardcovers.

Plotbunny came and went, taking my very own hardcover copy of Lifehack with her. The Watching Yute and Echoes of Erebus hardcovers cried. For the rest of the con, I had a post-it nearby saying "Hardcover Lifehack sold out!" ...... cuz I had so many to begin with. It would be obvious to anyone else that there'd been such a HUGE RUSH for them. Or, as most people mistook, poking the softcover that the post it was on, "You don't look sold out!" Look closer, that's a soft cover. "...Oh. Oh, right."

So now, a week later, my trio of hardcovers on my shelf has a gap. A continuity limp. I guess I'll have to restock myself.

All in all, as I said before, business was decent. For a friday? Amazing. And of course I was having a blast, yapping with vendors and visitors alike, basking in the nerdiness. For such a big circle of people, the citizenship of VCON feels very close. Similar interests will do that, I suppose.

As the hour drew near; 7pm, closing of the room for the day, I readied myself for the 'book launch' event. I had a reading to do! First, check that the posters on the wall were secure.. the masking take looped on te backs were doing OKAY, but I was certain I'd find at least one on the floor next morning. I laid down the books that were on stands, and weighted down things that might get caught in the breeze. Oh, and I tucked in the robot.

Next post- The Launch Reading!

VCON 2011, Day 1, Part 1

2011-10-05T19:52:00.000-07:00

"Brain?"
"Yes, body?"
"We need to talk, brain."
"OH, HERE we go..."
"Damned right, here we go. Ever heard of eating, or drinking?"
"During this year's VCON? I drank!"
"I MEANT WATER!"
".....oh....."

So, my body's had some issues. Lesson learned. I neglected proper maintenance in years before, but this year it was systematic and deliberate. Hey! I had to optimize my time! 3 days in the realm of nerdiness must be properly utilized!

So here we go-

Mid morning Friday found me riding 'cargo class' in the back of my dad's van. My wife couldn't play taxi, due to motherly duties. A lot of vehicles just can't properly transport a paraplegic and his wheelchair, so certain compromises had to be made in my dad's van. Add my 3 boxes, big tupperware locker and two poster tubes... oh hey! I still had a lot of free space. The Big Black Box seemed appreciative too.

This fella has been with me during 3 or 4 VCONs, and his age is beginning to show. This is only my 4th VCON, so it's a minor tradition of sorts. He only comes out for VCON. He is the home of my spiked shoulder pads.

The ears, facepaint, and belt do not live in the box. Only the shoulder pads and the goggles are VCON regulars. This pic was a halloween costume once. I brought the shoulder pads to VCON, because.. well.. may as well bring something unusual to face the cosplayers.. not that this costume is of anything in particular, but the shoulder pads were a bit of a hit, so the next year, I packed em along. I didn't know if I should wear them.. two years in a row? My doubts were answered the moment I put The Big Black Box on my vendor table. Someone at a neighboring table asked "Ooh, did you bring the spikes?"

From that moment, they became part of my VCON tradition. They need a name. How about "The Pauldrons of Ozero"... cheesy? They're uncomfortable for me, as they grind against the shoulders when I wheel around, so I only wear them for 20 minutes or so at a time. They have some structural issues that are less than user-friendly.

Finally rolling into the Sheraton, we saw an Ecto-1 parking as well. Ghostbusters in da house. Seems they're part of a huge network of GB cosplayers, who do some kind of charity work, much like the 501st. (Star war imperial troops, also appearing at VCON again.) Still looking for those droids?

Anyway, while my dad sought one of those hotel luggage carts for my cargo, I did some recon for the vendor's room, and my table in it.

No sooner had I rolled into the room, than Steve Fahnestalk (who also was the con's official toastmaster) ambushed me.

Last year, Steve and I had tables across the aisle from each other, which led to a vicious rivalry in the 'giving-away-free-bookmarks' arena. Since then, he bought my first book, later giving me his, (I've reviewed it now,) while I tossed my other two at him. This day, he was evening the score, sticking me with his newest. More reviewing all 'round is imminent.

Once my dad and I got my haul to the table, he had to split. He apologized for not helping me set up, but that was fine by me. This was my table for 3 days, and setting it up was a pleasure. Well... except for the 3 posters I wanted to put up on the wall behind me. Thankfully, my neighbor helped me out. The wall was covered in a fabric, which isn't a good friend to tape. I should have just used tacks or something.

Time to plug my neighbor. Dang it if I can remember her name now (sorry! I suck at names!) but she's the writer attached to The Sword of the Stars II. They weren't there for anything much but creating a little buzz about the upcoming game, and to GIVE AWAY copies of the first game, along with all its expansions! I got a copy, but haven't had any time to really get into it though. Short description: Pick a race, take over space. Turn based ship movement, followed by realtime combat.

I was giving away... bookmarks, and big postcard with Regan on em. (This image was also one of the big posters behind me)

But I would be giving free games before VCON was over...

Aside from my books and associated banners and posters, I also set upon The Big Black Box- the robot. Ph34r the robot.

For he is ph34rsome.

Next post- The vendor room opens!

A wild VCON approaches!

2011-09-26T10:40:00.000-07:00

I'm updating my blog! What a shock! But those of you who have the ability to remember as far as a year back, may remember that I blogged about last year's VCON quite a bit! Enough so that the BC Science Fiction Association wanted those posts to put in their mag!

What's VCON, you ask? It's a science fiction convention! Well, there's also a hearty helping of fantasy stuff too, and.. well, it's nerdy, gods frak it! Any who see themselves as having ANY points allotted to nerdier attributes will feel quite at home! Heck, the first year I went, it was almost like rolling into a family reunion.

I'll have to remember to bring a camera again. My blogging last year was done after the fact, so don't expect any live coverage. I'm gonna be busy, dangit! I'll be selling my books, and I'll also be showcasing the successor to the 'world's first combat spatula' that I built for last year, and it will all be watched over by the most useless stupid robot wannabe thing ever! I built him too, so you know it sucks! Anyone who knows me on facebook may have already seen him, although he's been a little more pimped out since those pictures. I'll have a few book-related posters up too.. I'm not there to sell those, but if people convince me with enough cash, I MIGHT part with them. Maybe. Heck, I'm bringing a few hardcovers due to request, which I wasn't planning on selling either. OK, I'm a cheap whore.

Oh, I'll also be doing a reading from Echoes of Erebus at the book launch event on friday night. It'll be short, but it'll be a blast.

Anyway, those of you who I'll see there.. well, see you there! The rest of you will have to bask in my recap blogging!

Tom Smith and his Electric Skyship

2011-07-13T16:32:00.000-07:00

Steve's awesome, so here's the first 'real review' I've done, and it's on his book, and not his octopus mud-wresting league. His call, whatever. Anyway, here we go!

----------------------------------------------

Tom Smith and His Electric Skyship

Steve Fahnestalk

1908, alternate history steampunk adventure. When Tom happened into my hands, I had very little idea what to expect beyond that, but it turned out to be a fun romp, perfectly suitable for the upper-elementary crowd, but also enjoyable to this jaded 30-something.

The foreword mentions a lot of fact-checking had been done, and it shows. Period technology and customs were used well, plus the added twist. Combustion engines never really became popular, leaving electric motors for streetcars, and air travel was still dominated by dirigibles and similar craft.

The differences are explained well enough that one can easily envision the workings of these vehicles, but did not get so meticulous that it bogged down the story. In a couple spots, there are mentions of future Tom Smith adventures, which can be taken as 'forced', or 'fun', depending on your perspective. I could almost hear a 1930's announcer voice at these moments.

It is a short book, but in its span, the protagonist Jack tells of meeting his fellow-inventor friend Tom Smith, air battles against Baron Von Ausländer (A.K.A. “Baron Von Whatever”), adapting and improving their skyship, and resolving the kidnapping of President Roosevelt. An unintended detour for Jack would seem to set some groundwork for a future book, and I find myself wanting to see how certain characters re-appear.

The ending capped off with a grand climax that is a bit tongue-in-cheek in a way that is probably best appreciated (or for that matter, noticed) by my fellow nerds. All in all, Skyship is a fun little read that I won't soon forget. Get crackin' on that next Tom Smith book, Steve!

Steve Fahnestalk's blog is at www.stevefah.wordpress.com

Oh, look, an update.

2011-07-13T02:20:00.000-07:00

Can I blame a new son for my lack of updates? Why not, he can't defend himself. Hello world, I now have 2 kids. Caitlin recently turned four, and Lachlan (non-scots can feel free to say it 'lock-lin') is almost 2 months old now.

Kids. With an S, and all... pluraly. Caitlin isn't entirely aware that the new baby isn't a toy for her amusement, but she's catching on. The cat is suffering from flashbacks of hearing Caitlin wail at random times around the clock.

I am not longer employed, (long story, but no hurt feelings.. I have a taste for working a job-job now, so I'll be sniffing about...) so wth no big daytime requirements, I have the night-duty of trying to keep Lachlan quiet and happy. This licences me to sleep in late in the morning. This week happens to be different though. This week, my plural kids and my wife have gone on a camping trip without me, to chill with my inlaws. Me and my wheelchair aren't exactly camping-friendly, which results in my getting a week-long chance to catch up on crap and get things done that have been waiting for months.

Speaking of the wheelchair, after nearly a decade in this one, I will soon have a new one. Same-ish but slightly different style. Smaller width by an inch or two, bigger wheels by a bit, things that can do this, and that, fancier spokes. Any day now...

Writing has had a bit of a boost this week, but not as much as I had hoped. I've been actually kinda busy around here. The serial bleeder is definitely going to be my next book, even if I can't decide on the final title.. but there's lots of time. Oh, and if I didn't mention if before, I'm all set to go the VCON this October again, peddling my books, and having a blast.

Next entry- Dark Cloud and Actraiser. So.. yeah. Ooh, and maybe a review I'm doing for "Tom Smith and the Electric Skyship" written by Steve Fahnestalk.

Serial Bleeder Ch1

2011-03-27T11:17:00.000-07:00

This hasn't been edited much, the book is still in super-alpha stages, but I thought I'd share the first lil chapter. Its tone isn't quite the same as most of the book will be, but when I post some of chapter 2 later, it would help to have a little context. The formatting is a bit of a mess, as blogger doesn't play by the same rules as openoffice, but I left it as it came through; further tampering might bite me in the rear when it gets exported to different sites. Anyway, here we go:

Gavin's eyes darted about suspiciously, and his breathing betrayed his anticipation. Thankfully, no one in the restaurant seemed to notice, allowing him to maintain the delusion that he was playing it cool.

He walked into the washroom and took a quick glance around to see if anyone else was here. He checked the lighter fluid bottles in his jacket pockets for leaks.

Opening every toilet stall, he confirmed beyond the shadow of a doubt that he was alone.

The side panels of the stalls went all the way from floor to ceiling. The doors of the stalls had roughly forty centimetre clearance to the floor and ceiling. This made for a very private stall, and was what attracted him to this location to begin with.

He chose the stall furthest from the door, stepped in, and locked it behind him.

Gavin looked up with a broad, unseemly grin and a twinkle in his eye. This was the day.

He closed the toilet's lid, and spat on it. He used a handful of toiler paper to scrub the top clean. Clean enough. He lifted lid just long enough to toss in the used toilet paper. He took off his shoes, and without touching the doubtlessly germ-ridden floor with his socks, moved the shoes into position. They would serve as decoys. With luck, they might fool anyone who glanced under the door. Hopefully no one would bend over so far that they noticed the lack of feet in the shoes.

Gavin had meant to buy tall rubber boots for this purpose, but then he'd either have to wear them, or find another way of smuggling them around. Neither option lent itself to an inconspicuous entry.

Standing on the toilet seat in his socks, he strained up and found that he reached the smooth, cream coloured ceiling easily. Good. He had considered using latex gloves for this to not leave fingerprints, but it would be a meaningless precaution, given what he was going to do here.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out one of the cheerfully yellow lighter-fluid bottles that held the precious cargo. He loosened the nozzle, careful to not spill a precious drop, and squeezed a little bit of the thick red essence onto two fingers on his opposite hand.

It wasn't warm anymore, but he still felt the urge to give it a little taste. That would be self-defeating. Maybe after the job was done, he'd have a little left. Or maybe he could get a tiny new sample. A fresh one, a warm one. That wouldn't sit well with Evelyntra.

Oh, how warm blood on the tip of one's tongue felt as soothing as an embrace.

Just a tiny bit?

No, not now. Focus on the job at hand.

Reach up, stain, swirl. As his fingers left the mark, he swayed his head to mimic the motion. A quiet little dance with the blood. He smiled proudly.

A little more blood on his fingers. Reach, swirl. There it is.

Again.

Blood, reach, swirl. Again. Now smear here, smear there. Now the whole bottom of the fist. Press it up, twist, smack, smack. Time flowed quickly, but he was progressing well. Yes, he'd remembered! It looked right.

It looked right.

Oops, in his vigour, a droplet fell to he floor. Get it later. Open the other bottle, the first was empty.

Now it was down to the easy parts. Smear, smear, dab, a few dozen times. There.

He stepped down off the toilet and sat on it, looking up at his work while squirming his feet back into his shoes. It was great. He needed to get a camera one of these days. Grabbing a little bit of toilet paper, he dabbed up the droplet of wasted blood on the floor.

Gavin stood and smeared the last of the blood onto the door, to form the words;

“Dear gentle deficator. Do you like Vincent Van Gogh? Look up. My rendition of 'Starry Night over the Rhone.' You're welcome.”

While he was painting, he had heard several people going in and out of the bathroom, but now he heard no one. Using his clean hand, he went over to the nearest sink, closing the stall door behind him, and rolled up his sleeves to wash the blood off of his painting hand. He had it all off before the next person came into the washrooms.

He watched in the mirror as the newcomer choose a different stall. Half of him wanted to be around when his art was discovered, the other half knew it would be better to get a little distance first.

Gavin's rolled up sleeves chafed uncomfortably against his arms. Ah, that reminded him, it was past the time for his potable from Evelyntra. The little black bottle was a prefect cylinder that seemed to knowingly ignore light.

He unscrewed the top, and downed the sweet yet noxious mire quickly, but with pleasure. He hurriedly rinsed it out in the sink, avoiding future lectures from Evelyntra.

He left the washroom, as the aftertaste slowly faded. He could feel it in him. Thank you Evelyntra.

Gavin owed her so much.

Regan blogs.

2011-03-21T15:49:00.000-07:00

Kay, Regan's been on my mind a lot for random reasons lately, and when I got the 'Fantasies' Album by Metric, well, she's just not leaving me alone. She also wants the lead singer's outfit.

Metric indeed rocks. If you ever liked Garbage of Republica, Metric's worth a look. I 'discovered' them via the Scott Pilgrim soundtrack, as Metric made the song sung by 'Clash at Demonhead'. Metric's lent music to a pile of other movies too, including Zombieland, and (gag) Vampire diaries, and.. a pile more. TV too. Grey's Anatomy off the top of my head. They're soooOOOoooOOOoo indie mainstream it hurts. So does that sentence. It's okay, they're Canadian.

Anyway, Regan asked me if she should start her own blog, and I told her that was stupid, and that fictional people can't have blogs, so she threw a plastic bowl at me, but apologized repeatedly before the thing came to a stop on the floor. So, as a token of peace, I told her should could post on my blog, as long we didn't confuse anyone. That said, here's Regan:

Hi world! Any of you who heard about those pirates who came to my house- don't worry. I haven't heard a peep from any other jack***es since then, and I ordered some fun stuff to make any future problems.. well, less of a problem. What kind of toys? I'm in international waters, so use your imagination.

I was a little surprised that 'Leesh gave my order such a quick thumbs up, but I think she's still feeling protective or guilty or whatever because she wasn't here to help when it all happened. That said, I have to say I kicked some considerable bumbum. I hadn't seen that much action since Meston. I haven't decided what's worse- zomzomz, or having to put lead into live humans to defend myself.

Whatever, it's over. 'Leesh says she wants me to come with her when she goes mainland to teach from now on. I did when she first started those seminars at Yute Central, but I was un-invited after a couple.. incidents. One weepy 'Leesh later, and now I'm back on the Yute trips. But nowhere near the classroom. Erp. CONFERENCE ROOM, Excuuuuuse me. I bought her a pair of fake glasses and a pointer, so she can be 'hot teacher', but the glasses reminded me of Kris.
Elle. Oh. Elle. Once I stopped laughing, we chucked em out.

Speaking of BitchyMcBitcherson, she's coming over for a weekend later in the month. Her and Parker. It'll be awesome to see him again. But I should resist calling Kris names. IT'S JUST SO MUCH FUN! 'Leesh said I should stop using her as my, 'Token Evil Bisexual Bitch'. Lawl, WHY? We need an icon like my T.E.B.B. to show us the difference between evil bisexuals and good ones!

Hint: The good ones are redheads, and MINE.

Free Ebooks, march 6-12

2011-03-04T19:09:00.000-08:00

RE100. That's the coupon code to use here, to get any of my books free in a pile of different formats. Why?? It'll be "READ AN E-BOOK WEEK" and hey, I'm feelin silly, as I'm currently jacked up on taurine! WHEEEE!!!

That's Lifehack, Watching Yute, and/or Echoes of Erebus, free ebooks if you don't dawdle!

My dearest Jonnicakes, march 2

2011-03-02T15:33:00.000-08:00

My dearest Jonnicakes, I have just faxed you the monthly financials. I regret to admit that I have once again produced a less than perfect report.

I donated 20 cents to the petty cash to even things out, and I didn't tell you. I'm sorry, my dearest Jonnicakes.

I also misread a $134 as $143, and as such, I ended up making and cashing a cheque to restock the petty cash that was off by $9 surplus.

I thought of lying to you, my dearest Jonnicakes. I thought of making it all go away, and secretly stuffing the $9 in the bottom of the petty cash box, to correct some future mistake. I'm ashamed to say that one of the receipts I had to fax you kept me honest. I didn't have time to scan it, and change it in photoshop. Oh, my dearest Jonnicakes, can you ever forgive my larcenous thoughts?

If any solace comes to me in this month's mess, it is only that I found it sooner rather than later. Each month I make similar mistakes, but I am starting to find them sooner, my dearest Jonnicakes. One day, I might submit a perfect, error free monthly report, with no little notes scribbled in the corner, and no page explaining what went wrong.

Until that day comes, my dearest Jonnicakes, I can only thank you for not unleashing your omnidirectional wrath upon the little blue ball we call earth.

Chatty zombies

2011-03-01T22:58:00.000-08:00

Quick knee update: Had an xray today, and it's healed enough I can ditch the brace.

Anyway, I was conceitedly reading my own stuff, specifically Echoes of Erebus today. I'm a little sick of zombies, I think a lot of people are. I tried to give em an extra twist in EoE, (most obviously with the 'demon' types) and I knew a section was coming up with 'normal zombies'.

I kinda dreaded it, and kind of expected to find myself skimming through it. Then HEY, it's talking! Yes, I wrote it, so I wasn't SHOCKED, but I'd forgotten about it, and was pretty pleased with the result.

They were walking to each other, sort of. They were talking via programming by our master badguy, who injected his ego and sense of humour into the banter. I then came to the realization that I am SO not a zombie writer. Sure, most of my zombies are the non-articulate moany-type, but the ones I have the most fun with aren't. I used to wonder why my books didn't fit in with ZOMBIE BOOKS.

One thing I considered was "My books are character driven, but now and then a few million zombies and/or nanites show up." Which... yeah.. I'll stand by that. Maybe I'm too fond of the type of zombies as shown in the simpsons on the occasional 'treehouse of horror'.

So, yeah, 'bout my knee. And Johnnicakes.

2011-02-18T12:53:00.000-08:00

Minor thing first, anyone playing LittleBIGplanet 2 needs to go play my new level, Echoes of Erebus 1, http://lbp.me/v/xt2s1r/photos the first in a set of levels based on my latest book. More to come.

So, my knee.. It's pretty much healed now, but I've been meaning to do a blog with the whole thing for a while now. The less I'm in ye accursed brace, the less I'm interested, and have come to the realization that (as with most blog posts around the world) most people don't care about the details much either.

So here they are. :)

In the line of duty for my (new? Not so new now, I guess) job, I run (wheel) to the bank to get cash to refill the office petty cash box. The amount in total for a month is often... petty. But I, and Johnnicakes, a higher up I've never seen or spoken directly to* likes if the numbers all return to standard at the end of a month. This is not always easy. My 8 hrs a week, plus the boss out of the office a lot on appointments can make it hard to get signatures for things sometimes. Also, I'm marginally incompetent. :P

On my 2nd month making this trip, I tripped. If by 'trip' you mean that something on my wheelchair decided that the little cutout from a pedestrian triangle-o-crossing to the road was too bumpy. My chair decided to stop. My body did not. Out I go.

I landed on all fours. My hands were quite happy to be in my wheeling gloves. Kevlar n everything. No problem there. My knees landed in a very organized way, and no damage was immediately apparent. I knew there'd be bruising though.

For my dignity, I righted myself to be seated on my knees. It was a very purposeful looking pose, one that a person might do if they didn't want to sit right on a floor. Huh. Okay, now what? I never got the hang of getting myself into the chair from the floor. Not with the resources available to me here. A couple teenage girls across the street were looking at me. Oh look, resources!

"Uhm, girls? Help, I guess!" They made their way across, and one held out her hand as if I could just take it and be helped to my feet. "Heh, thanks, but I think it's going to take a little more than that." They were a little at a loss. I mean.. I'm not BIG BIG, but I'm not a lightweight either. And let's face it- your typical teenage girl is no powerhouse.

That's when from out of nowhere, two grown-ups showed up. One said she was a nurse, the other was just a big guy with a sufficient level of burliness.
I was soon (if not gracefully) back in the chair. The nurse kind of wanted to call me an ambulance, but I felt okay. More or less. Still shaken all the heck from the fall, shaken enough to last most of the day. But I had work to do. On I went to the bank. On the way back to the office, the skies opened up on me. It wasn't long before I was drenched. I was taking my time to find the best, smoothest way around any little obstacle.

When I was about a block and a half from the office, a happy homeless looking guy saw me and ducked around the corner. He was hiding, but VERY badly.WTF. Well, that's not a "I'm gonna mug you in broad daylight" kind of face. I made eye contact from under my hood, dripping wet.

He pops out and says "Oh! Sorry! I though you were uncle Pete! I was gonna surprise you!"

PETE?! For those of you unfamiliar with Maple Ridge's favorite homeless man, ole' Pete, is a quiet fellow who's been spotted shambling miles around. He's been in and out of the system, and most of the time when he's spotted, he's filthy as you could imagine, and often smelling as bad. A few years back, he lost his lower legs (as rumour tells us, frostbite) and is now in a wheelchair. But to the point-

I WAS MISTAKEN FOR PETE?!

Insult to injury anyone? I got back to the office, dripping down the hall, and I made my way to my wife's office, where she and a co-worker share space. They saw me and both burst out laughing. "YOU'RE DRENCHED!!!" Thanks ladies. I didn't care too much about being drenched, I was still trembling from my fall.

Fast forward to the next morning. Getting dressed, I noticed.. yeah, my knee was swollen really bad. No shock. I went on with my day. Next morning it was less swollen, so I figured everything was okay.

Fast forward to six days after the fall. I'm at GF strong for an unrelated meeting, when I tell the tale of the fall. The physio gal I was there to see wanted a peek at my knees.

"Oh. Oh wow, that's really swollen! And the colour's no good at all!"
"Colour?" I hadn't noticed much, it's pretty dark when I get dressed, I guess.
"I'm just going to see if there's a doctor handy. Yeah, Doctor K is just across the hall."

Um. Doctor K? Did he try to kill James bond once?

Doctor K and his deep, awesome russian accent come along. He takes one look at my knee. "Ack! When did this happen?"
"About a week ago."
"ACK! No, no, no, no, no."

Soon enough, he'd called 911 on me. Sure, I'd been feeling bad for that week, and I threw up in the driveway once, but the whole house was combating the flu!... yeah, so maybe masses of misdirected pain might have been causing some problems too. Before the ambulance came, DR. K had lined me up with various unrelated medical tests that he figured It had been too many years since I'd been checked out.

I spent that night in the ER, had 3 various scans done of me and my knee, and was given WCB forms and a knee brace. (They try not to give casts to people who can't feel the affected area to avoid undetected pressure sores) This brace was only meant to prevent my knee from straitening out completely. Yeah, it wasn't my knee exactly that was broken, it was the knee-end of my femur that had a fracture. And I had to wear that thing all the time, except for showers.

While I was being carted around for scans in a bed, I got to see many old familiar ceilings that I'd seen in 2001, when I was hit. I got to appreciate the tiling more, as I was not on a morphine IV this time.

Now I'm down to only having to use the brace 'when my knee is at higher risk'... which.. Yeah, I'll be sure to tell my football coach. So, I wear it to work. Meh.

That's not my knee brace, but it's close. It's definitely not my leg.

----

*Johnnycakes. Johnny is the head beancounter of the organization. I fax things to him. I get emails form him asking for more. I was told his verbal english isn't so hot, and that I'm better off communicating via email. I'm pretty good with accents, but I find email better for businessy stuff anyway. The end result is that Johnny has become some sort of financial boogeyman.

Fill that form in right! Get that signature! Calculate the deductible correctly, or the wrath of Johnny shall descend upon us all! So where does the name 'Johnnicakes' come from? It's not his fault, he didn't EARN it for any reason. In the LBP levels based on Lifehack, I have a few silly spin-off levels focusing on tormenting the character "Jonathan Coll". His tormentor enjoys referring to him as Johnnicakes. As a result, whenever I utter the name "Johnny", "Cakes" slips out now and then. Thankfully, as I mentioned, I never see Johnny face to face.

Lest the wrath of Johnnicakes descend up us all.

I've been neglecting this blog pretty bad, but go listen to my interview!!

2011-02-16T23:19:00.000-08:00

http://www.thegenretraveler.com/science-fiction/podcast-episode-21-attack-of-the-nanite-zombies/

It's about half an hour long, and ends up bringing in a lot of different topics. Kinda. It went really well, and came out on valentine's. I have a lot to blog about, and no time to do it! Broke my knee, got gotten by a job, blah blah blah. I'll have to tell those tales another time. Oh, did I mention yet I have a 2nd kiddo due in the summer? Eeeheeeheee!

Next entry- sooner, and more. Promise. Kinda.

Sandra Claus

2010-12-16T19:36:00.000-08:00

Just a fun lil story for y'all. Oh, and in other news, I fell out out a wheelchair onto my face into the street, unknowingly broke my knee, and a week later, spent an overnight in the hospital getting zapped and assigned a brace. WHEEE! Anyway, on with the story.

Sandra Claus
By Joseph Picard

The rumble-ready heels of Sandra's black, studded boots resounded with determined thuds as she marched down the marble-floored hallway to her father's office.

The diminutive elf guarding the door was getting on in years, with leathery skin, and very little shine left in his buttons, or his eyes. He watched Sandra get closer and closer for some time. It was a long hallway, and Sandra was not an unpleasant sight at all. Her black leather motif didn't match anyone else within a few hundred miles, so she always stood out.

When Sandra reached the elf, he only came up to her hip. She glanced down with no particular affection nor disdain, and stopped chewing her gum for a moment to ask, “Hey, beef jerky, is my dad in?”

The elf looked up with tired eyes. “Beejeeki, Ma'am. You've known me since I was born, please call me by my name, properly.”

Sandra sighed. Her stresses were not Beejeeki's fault. “Sorry, Beejeeki. I should be nicer to those who age.”

Beejeeki gave a forgiving smile. “I have done that, haven't I? I suppose with all the outsourcing, I should consider moving on to the Grey Havens in the next couple of years. But yes, your father is inside, waiting.”

“Thanks, Beefy. You know he'd be lost without you, right?”

Beejeeki smiled wider with a soft chuckle. “He might manage without me, I bought him a blackberry.”

Sandra smiled back, shaking her head slowly. “And who's going to teach him how to use it?”

Leaving the elf deep in thought, Sandra went inside. There, behind his desk, sat the old man, going over the yearly lists. Dozens upon dozens in his hands, spilling off of the corners of his oak desk, and along the floor. “Hey pops! I heard you got a new blackberry! How's that working out for you?”

Santa looked up, only now noticing his daughter coming in. His glasses slid down his nose a little, as they seemed trained to do. “Oh! Yes. Well, yes. Beejeeki said that he heard it would help me to organize things somehow, but in all honesty, it just tasted like a regular blackberry. If there was any magic to it, it hasn't kicked in yet.”

Sandra smirked, and sat down across from Santa. Her smirk was wiped away when she noticed the little present on the desk, labelled 'To: Jimmy'. “Oh. This. You were serious.”

Santa gave a hearty “Ho, ho!” and nudged the present further towards Sandra. “You're a big girl now! It's high time you learned the family trade. It's time to give giving a spin!”

She stood and picked up the bread-box sized, green-wrapped box in one hand. Instantly, by the power inherited from her dad, and a little magic some elf imbued into the wrapping, she knew were Jimmy was. “So what, do I carry this around until Christmas eve?”

Santa sighed. “It's the twenty-seventh, honey.”

“I have some time, then. Remind me in a couple hundred days.” Sandra took the box under her arm, and turned to the door.

“No, dear,” Santa said, “It's a late delivery. Jimmy was in a coma until this morning.”

Sandra sighed. “Wow, laying it on thick, huh?” She closed her eyes, and focused on Jimmy's whereabouts.

Santa nodded. “You can do it? I know it's not heavy, but do you need a reindeer to get there?”

“I know how to teleport,” Sandra huffed, “I'm two hundred, stop treating me like a kid.” She punctuated with a little pop form her chewing gum. She laid a finger aside her nose, and was gone in a blink.

When the world reformed around her, Sandra was mere steps behind a bus stop shelter. There was snow on the ground, in scraggly patches. The air was cold, and she regretted not grabbing a jacket before she came.

On the bench sat young Jimmy. Jimmy had the sense to have a jacket on. He looked about twelve years old. Maybe a little old for this, but Sandra didn't care enough to judge. She stepped out where she could be seen, and held out the present unceremoniously. “Merry belated Christmas, kid.”

Jimmy furrowed his brow and looked Sandra up and down. “What?” he said, showcasing the eloquence of a typical tweener.

Sandra rolled her eyes and sighed, still holding the gift out towards him. “Yeah, yeah, it's late, but I don't think I'm to blame for that. I guess you're looking pretty good, all things considered.”

His expression showed growing confusion. “I don't really take presents from strangers, you know. Who the heck are you? That could be a bomb, or you're planting evidence on me, or who knows what.”

Sandra let her gift-bearing arm droop down. “Now I know why dad just drops these off while you little snots are sleeping. Look, I'm the real deal, alright? Watch.” she put her finger by her nose again, and rolled her eyes as she disappeared.

She was soon before her dad's desk again, gift in hand.

Santa looked troubled. “What h-”

“I'm negotiating.” Sandra said before disappearing once again.

“Negotiating?” Santa asked the empty room, “Negotiating to give a gift?”

Sandra appeared in front of Jimmy again. “Ta da. Now take your present.”

Jimmy was impressed, but seemingly not eager to take the present. “I don't know if I should take it. I probably don't want it anyway.”

Sandra gasped with exasperation. “Then why did you ask him for it?”

“I didn't ask for anything.” Jimmy replied. Of course. He'd been in a coma.

“Well, literally for pity's sake kid, what do you want? We're pretty well loaded back home.”

Jimmy stared at Sandra, and thought, and stared, and thought. “Lift up your shirt, so I can see em!”

Sandra's eyes went wide with a scowl, and she crossed her arms across her front. There was only one thing to do, if she was going to do things right. With a slight quivering of rage, she extended a hand, then a forefinger, pointing squarely at Jimmy. She yelled out loud enough to be heard a block away. “Naughty!!!”

“Lady,” Jimmy said, trying to hold back laughter, “If you are who and what you say you are, you've got to check your info. I don't think you can label me naughty. I think I'm out of your jurisdiction. I'm Jewish.”

They stared at each other in silence for a few long seconds. “Great.” Sandra finally said with a patient, even, yet punchy tone, “Happy Chanukah.” Sandra 'nosed' her way back to her dad's place.

“Pops. Did you happen to notice that Jimmy's Jewish?”

“What?” Santa said, looking up over his glasses again. He put down the current list he was checking, and called toward the door. “Beejeeki. Are you still out there? Could you bring me the file on Jimmy Anderson?”

Beejeeki's voice rolled in through the doorway. “Sir, anticipating possible troubles given Sandra's inexperience, I placed the file in your top left drawer.”

Santa smiled. “Ah! I doubt even a whole basket of blackberries could do that!” Santa cheerfully replied, “Thank you, Beejeeki!”

“Yes,” Sandra added dryly, “thank you for the heartwarming vote of confidence.”

“Not at all.” Beejeeki said with a smile in his tone.

Santa pulled out the promised file, and rolled it open. “Hmm. Hmm. Jimmothy Van Anderson. Born to... and.. hmm. Yes, yes, right here, I think his Catholic baptism sort of speaks to not being Jewish. Sandra dear, I think little Jimmy's been having... a little fun with you.”

Sandra crossed her arms over her front again and grumbled quietly, “The little snot would sure like to.”

Oblivious, Santa cheerfully encouraged Sandra. “Now, now, go back and tell him you know better. Don't be so hard on the lad, he's very young, and can be forgiven some foolishness.”

“Young compared to us, Yes,” Sandra said, “but alright. I'll give it one more go.” Sandra checked that she still had the present, and popped back over to Jimmy. “Wow, kid, you're still here? Bus service sucks here, huh?”

Jimmy smirked. “Oyvey.”

“Can it, Rabbi Anderson. I looked up your file. You're Catholic. Now take the damned present.”

“Rabbi Anderson?” Jimmy questioned.

“Fine, fine, you're not a Rabbi, but the point is, you're not Jewish, Jimmy Anderson. And you're darn lucky I didn't mention your little request to dad, or you'd be choking on coal right about now.”

Jimmy looked stunned, blinking for a few moments while looking for words. “Who's Jimmy Anderson? I'm Jimmy Bernstein.”

Sandra grimaced at the present clutched in her hands. Some one had messed up the recipient enchantment on the wrapping. With a smile that looked more like a grimace, she gently put it down next to Jimmy. Jimmy Bernstein. “As I said before. Happy frigging Chanukah. If you'll excuse me, I have an elf to eviscerate.”

Inspired by Alvin the Chipmunk meeting Mrs Claus, Dr. Who's daughter, and Regan popping by to visit me.

Cold Nos summons Regan Grier

2010-12-04T14:55:00.000-08:00

I found out today that cold Nos conjures Regan. When I'm getting to know my characters, I ... not-so-intentionally create a bit of an imaginary friend to talk with, about things in their world.

Apparently, while Regan was 'with me' for Lifehack, I was in the middle of my Nos binge. Since then, I've had a Nos here and there, but generally, they'd spend a couple hours in my backpack before I got home with it, maybe left it on the desk for a day or more, and by then, it was very not-cold.

Today, my beloved bride brought me home a can of the stuff, and I broke it open fairly quick to help fuel a tedious session of cutting little bits of santa-themed bits of paper of my daughter's pre-school.

The smell of it reminded me of why Nos was no longer my favourite kind of energy drink. Nos may also be short for 'noxious'. The scent that still manages to heighten anticipation a little, so I took a sip.

Ding! Regan popped into my head, clear as a bell.

"Well, hello there, Regan."
"Hey dork. You gonna make that flash cartoon with me in it soon?"
"Yeah yeah, Regan. I don't have a ton of time these days."
"Aw COME ON, I'm a star, I need to get out!"
"You've been 'out' for a long time, miss."
"Ha, oh bloody Ha. Seriously, I'm stuck in your head, and there isn't even cable in here."
"Oh shush, I gave you cameos in two books now. It's not like you never get out."
"In one of them, I came off sounding like a total whiny bitch, and the other cameo was a little depressing, like that whole friggin book. Where's my X rated Alisia-wrestling book??"
"In your head Regan, just in your head."
"But if I'm in YOUR head, that means the X-rated Alisa wrestling in also in YOUR head."
"...... you just blow my mind. Or folded space. Or something."
"So.... porn for me?"
"Shut up, Regan."

That said, it was nice of her to visit. I've been busy enough with life in general, that my writing has gotten into a slump. My lack of homework for the writing guild, and my lacklutre chapter for a potential new book.. well... meh. Anyway, Regan's visit gave me a tiny morale boost, and maybe some new direction.

I'd also been meaning to blog about my recent adventures in public transit, big downtown hills, appointments to plan my next wheelchair, and TWO universities that have been using me as a guinea pig. But it's just not as interesting if you're not the one getting jabbed for blood. I accidentally signed up for 2 studies, thinking "yay for science"-

- but didn't plan on 3 hours of commuting in either direction, much less both studies wanting me in the same weeks. And GF strong. And of course work. Thank goodness for my mum, who's been doing a lot of babysitting. I haven't seen a ton of my own lil gal lately. I'm 'almost' done with the science. Yay. At least they like throwing some money at me.

The Newest of the Old Ones

2010-11-17T14:29:00.000-08:00

I'm now writing two books at once. I'm a hypocrite. I've spoken against (typed against) writing two novels at once, but in my defence, the case I was hardest on was a friend who was writing like three books at once, which took place one after the other, giving rise to potential linearity confusion.

My two projects MIGHT take place in the same world, (I'm not decided on that... they're so far apart in any timeline that there's no reason to link them, and no reason to expressly separate them,) but they can't confuse each other. I think. I hope.

I'm not writing to any target, I have no aims whatsoever of finishing a new book for VCON this year, so I'm kind of taking it lazy.

Project one is the one I've previously mentioned, I think... a modern urban mystery/comedy about a man (The Serial Bleeder) who leaves artistic graffiti using his own blood, the gypsy who supports his mostly harmless aims, and the office cog who gets wrapped up with them.

The other is a scifi/fantasy with a very blurry line between the two. It takes place in the far flung post-apocalyptic future, which has been ravaged by (among other things) a virus that managed to kill off all of humanity, except for the redheads.

Now, do I mean, THIS kind of redhead?

Or THAT kind? Given my track record, I suppose you suspect more Jessica-like results. In fact, I think my worldwide redhead survivors will run the gamut. Maybe in opposing camps.

The protagonist is a non-redhead character I've written about before, although the perspective of time has changed them, as experience will do. The tentative title is "The newest of the Old Ones", but I'm not 100% married to that.

Excerpts from both projects may make it to the blog in the near future.

Drivers suck. The car kind, not the computer kind.

2010-11-05T16:42:00.001-07:00

Three lanes of traffic stopped at the crosswalk for me. Kindly, lawfully, and all that good citizen stuff. I'd waited for the traffic to stop before heading forward.

When I got to the fourth lane which was empty until that moment, someone, (seemingly sitting clueless in the third lane about why 3 lanes of traffic would all stop at once) whipped around and shot right towards me. I braced for impact and held up an arm in defense. (Because that's worked out SO well for me in the past! Pfft.) The lady stopped just in time to touch my forearm with her grill.

Ironically, she had a disabled parking pass dangling from her rear view mirror. I bet she has a really noticeable limp on rainy days.

I glared at her and looked away when she looked like she was going to try to roll down a window to start conversation. There was no point, she knew how she was being an idiot.

It was very tempting to pull out my arm-rest and smash out a headlight, but I resisted. I got on the sidewalk and started onward.

A lady yelled at me from 3 lanes over. "Are you alright?" A sweet old lady pedestrian caught up soon after, and asked the same question, adding in a "That stupid f****** b*****." She's didn't seem the type to have a foul mouth, but then again, neither did Betty White.

I've had issues with drivers hitting or nearly hitting me four times off the top of my head. The one that put me in the wheelchair was a 50/50 fault The other three were pure driver idiocy of extraordinary proportions. I never got a licence before my accident because I didn't trust myself with a few tons of glass and metal. How about everyone else?

I got a job. Or it got me, I'm not sure which.

2010-10-24T15:12:00.000-07:00

2 notes first, I've done an interview with 'The Genre Traveler" over the phone, and it went really well. Y'all will have to wait until around valentines day before it 'airs' as a podcast. And y'know those VCON posts I just wrapped up? They're going to be in the next issue of BCSFAzine, a lil local magazine dealing with.. well, SF. And A. In BC. I don't know if they'll be using the entirety of my posts, or just cherry pick this and that, but the next issue in the middle of being edited.

So.. My job. I had considered my main job to be 'daddy' with a side of 'author', but my wife's work lost their 'office manager'. A call went out. And I ignored it. And the posting sat, unanswered. It's only eight hours a week, so people looking to pay rent with a job might not be too interested.

On the last day of the official listing, there were no applicants. So, when a desperate cry for a nerd is heard, there's (literally) only one man for the job!... And yet, due to the need to have the right paperwork, I still had to apply properly.

I need a what..? a res-oo-may? Man, I haven't seen one of those in nearly a decade! As I was facing the blank page, I recalled many a TV show where a stay at home mom re-enters the workplace. Oh, it wasn't that bad, I have a decent skillset, especially in contras to what they needed to be done. The employment history section was a little spotty looking, between self-employed contracts, and 3 bosses from separate wage jobs MIA... Two of whom could very well be in jail, for all I know.

"2001-present: wheelchair operator"
"2007-2008: Diaper changer"
"2007-present: Going insane on a steadily increasing rate."

Yeah, my resume was kind of an unorganized mess, as was my references sheet, but like I said, it was mostly to appease the paperwork gods. The interview, as per regulation, was conducted by multiple interviewees. Know what? Now giving a crap if you get the job makes the interview a lot easier. No stress. well, luckily, I had good answers, too. And I already knew a lot out the outfit, since I've been married to one of their staff for quite a while.

So bam, I'm working 2 days a week, 4 hours at a time. I do a tiny sliver of highly important data entry, I lick the occasional envelope, and attack the odd IT issue. Ooh, and graphical stuff. So far, it's pretty easy, other than having to ask where things are, and getting trapped inside the lobby after leaving a little later than she with the keys. Do I need keys? I hope not.

So I have the exalted title of OFFICE MANAGER now. And the other staff consist of 3 women. I will soon be installing an intercom into my office door, then I will only talk to them though this intercom, and they must call me Charlie.

OOH also.... Have I mentioned the new book? I may have mumbled a bit.. I'm setting up the scenario, naming characters, deciding on a working title.. and.. before I have that all nailed down... Y'all gonna have to wait! For those I have mentioned my ideas to, yes, the Bleeder appears to have won the contest of what idea I'll write next.

VCON 35, 2010- Sunday, Endgame

2010-10-18T21:26:00.000-07:00

This was the shortest day in the vendor room. It was busier than friday, but after saturday, it felt darn near serene. As I predicted, several 'orbiters' finally made a purchase, and I had to part with the promised poster of Alisia.

I actually parted with most of my posters during the weekend, but hey.. it gives me an excuse to restock. I later even sold my 2 fancy display banners. Go figure.

And along came Gabe. He had come for his prize, his destiny.... he slapped down $7.26. The UN had not stepped forward, so I let the world's first combat spatula go to Gabe...!

All hail the hero!
I gave him $1.26 back, because I was trying to go the whole weekend withing dealing with coins. I would have just let him have it free, but I didn't want to set a precedent of giving away my kitchen ware.

As the day was coming to a close, I started wrapping up my table, since it had been ransacked anyway. BUT! I had two books in an odd place.. someone had paid for two books, and set them down to chat. She had a lot to carry around, and probably assumed she had the books in a bag when she left. THANKFULLY, I had signed them with her name in them.. only her first name. So I was set on a quest with a first name and a general description. Long story short, about a week later, she came to my house with her hubby to pick them up, and they brought me a fancy cutting board. Ok, that sounds kinda lame, but it's really awesome, made of a bunch of different wood, and I think I'd rather frame it than cut meat on it.

Anyway, while I was hunting clues, I was on the other side of the vendor room, when I see a familiar sight.. my wife! And I heard a familiar sound- my little girl! The top of a little head bobbing along the other side of a row of tables, armed with instructions from my wife on how to get to me. She made it around the corner, grinned madly, and pointed. "I FOUND DADDY!"

I held out my arms, expecting a hug, but no! She had to go back around the tables to report to mommy. "Mommy! I found daddy!"

Vendors around me had a laugh, and said things like "So we finally meet your little one!" I didn't think I was talking about her throughout the weekend, but apparently I had been. By the time I got back to my table, my wife had gotten pretty far in the wrap up of my table. She was in a little bit of a rush, and on the way out, I was snagged by one ms. Heather Dale. She wanted to swap one of her CDs for one of my books. I said yes to be polite, and was generally in a rush. Celtic style songs aren't generally my kind of thing, but when I finally got to listen to it, it was really neat stuff to counterbalance the harder stuff I often listen to. In fact, it's still in my CD drive.

Well, that was VCON35.It was a blast, and worth every minute, even the lowpoints were worth it. even freezing my @$$ off at the mercy of an insane air conditioner.

Next year? Yeah, I'll be there.. but I'm really serious, serious, even more serious than last time... Don't expect me to have another new book ready by then! But stay tuned to hear about what's coming down the pipe...

PS: google up Sandra Wickham. She didn't need to share wine, she was smuggling a 6-pack! She was definitely serious about the modeling thing...!

VCON 35, 2010- Saturday, part 3- SFCanada party and VCON dance party

2010-10-17T16:26:00.000-07:00

After getting some directions, I found my way to the SFCanada party that I was now nearly a year and half an hour late for. It was held in someones private room, and it was pretty packed. I got in far enough to get an alright look around; to see what was going on, and that was about it. The ages were varied, but at 34, I was the kid in the room. No biggie, I know how to talk to growed-ups.

Topics wandered all over, but I had a really deep talk with.. oh frig, I forget her name now. Her son had taken his life in the last year, and I told the tale of Cheryl N, to whom Watching Yute was dedicated. At one point she told me that I reminded her of her son's friend, by my way of talking and my facial expressions. That entire talk was the most memorable part of the party for me.

2nd place went to a singing performance by an actor/writer who had been in a stage production of... Beauty and the Beast? erk.. probably not. It was a humorously sexist wedding proposal song. The whole room was impressed and amused. He had used a version of the song to propose many a year ago, and this night's performance was (if I heard right) and anniversary demand from his wife.

A lady I'd not met before (Sandra Wickham) was modeling her new bustier nearby, talking about how she could manage to work it into an everyday outfit. It was plenty sharp. I jumped in, (not into her bustier, you pervs) and gave my two cents.

I knew she was going for an every day usage, but told her that a character I was working on might wear such a thing as a phony gypsy fortune teller. I went on to describe the tall neckline collar as I gestured to her neck, then down to her legs as I went on about a long, flowing, layered, latticed skirt. She said she could model for some illustrations some time. Haha. Ha?

Conversation wandered into the pets department, someone had a little dog with them, and while I'm happy to gibber on about pets... well, I was getting worn down in general. I excused myself, saying I was going to peek in on the nearby dance before heading to bed.

I got into the hallway, and could hear the faint pounding of the music. Heh. Yeah, I gotta go have a peek. At the doorway, I saw a mixture of 50/50 wallflower types, and dancers.

Dang. Now I felt old. I mean, even before I was in the wheelchair, I wasn't into clubbing and such, citing that I liked to be able to hold a conversation, but the energy was infectious. Fine. I rolled in, and wandered around a bit. Who was on the far end of the dance floor, but Professor Whovianart. And he was RIPPING IT UP.

He wasn't one of the kiddies dancing, he had no partner, probably as he would put any partner to shame, or into the hospital. He slowed down for a moment, and I thought he was tired. No, he was just following the music. There wasn't any playing at that moment, and after he wiped sweat out of his eyes and the music started to catch up to him, he was speeding up again. He later told me that he was only dancing at a '5', due to bits of his costume/outfit he was still wearing. Otherwise, he would be going at '8'. '10' was for days gone by when he was a 'mascot' for sorts for a band that called him the blur. He was a machine, interesting enough to watch that I didn't do any girlwatching, for which there was ample opportunity on the dance floor.

But not interesting enough to hold me so long that the call of bed didn't drag me away. I got out the door, still kind of hooked by the music. To be honest, it wasn't that amazing, but an OK bass line is an OK bass line.

I lingered by a fellow who I think was a casual sort of security presence, and his gorgeous husky, Jade. How gorgeous was Jade? Gorgeous enough that within 5 minutes, 2 other people passing by stopped to say that she was Gorgeous. No one complained when a well endowed lady with a low cut top bend over to give Jade some attention. When SHE left, I think I heard someone recovering from a slight aneurysm.

Cleavage and huskies aside, I was headed to bed.

Wait, no, here's Sandra Wickham coming my way with her husband in tow, and a bottle of wine in hand. She asked me if I was going in.
"No, actually, I was headed to b..." ugh.. know what? I went to the effort of getting a room for this VCON SPECIFICALLY so I could spend extra time at non-vendor events. This time last year, I was suffering on a bus. Suck it up, go hand out by the amp.

I refused a glass of wine, but a song came on that got to me. I think it was Firestarter.No, no, no. Not that one. The prodigy one.Thank you. And yes, it's an old, overplayed song, but it hasn't been played recently, and not with that much bass. Head a bobbin', I nudged Sandra, and nodded at the wine bottle. She raised an eyebrow, and I silently mouthed (as words would be lost to the music) "I think I'm ready. Half though."

With the lack of food and sleep since yesterday morning, and me operating on taurine, she may as well have unscrewed my skull and poured the wine directly on my brain. I was a certain degree of drunk very, very quickly.No, no, no, no. Not as bad as that guy. but I wasn't feeling any pain anymore. For all the painkillers available out there, a wee touch of alcohol has always proven to be the most effective. I'm a lightweight to begin with, I don't drink often. When I do, (My official drinking day is my friends' Halloween party,) I do it RIGHT. That said... I don't plan to have much at this year's party. Meh.

Mrs. Sandra Wickham mentioned modeling again... hm. I didn't think much of it.

Eventually, the music stopped, and people were disassembling the dance floor, stacking the pieces on a couple racks. Frig, what time was it? I think it was a hint to piss off! On the way out, the good Professor joined the conversation.

Lemmie tell ya bout him. His persona is inspired by Dr. Who and a number of other sources, and in a way, is rather manufactured.. but at the same time, so natural. It's hard to tell where the character ends, and ****** ****** begins. Yes, I know his real name, but I dare not utter it, lest he evaporate into smoke!

I made the journey back to my hotel, (stopping to chat with the DJ and some of his ilk outside) with my shoulder spikes on still. The night before, I'd left them in the vendor room. I got another bag of chips and a chocolate bar, having last ate in the morning. I wasn't hungry, but I feared by body going into revolt. Thankfully, my room was neither hot, not cold. I gave my worry-wart mother a single ring on her phone, did what else needed to be done,and passed out.

In the bed. Not like the picture above. For the record, that was just a pic I got from google. No one at VCON was that wasted. As far as I knew.

Next post: Dealer room finale, and the fulfilling of the prophecy of Gabe!

VCON 35, 2010- Saturday, part 2- Game room and Cosplayers

2010-10-17T14:53:00.000-07:00

As the vendor's hours were wrapping up, Gabe (you know, Gabe, young man seeking his destiny; A quest, an epic quest) and his brother Donn (young man not necessarily seeking any destiny that I knew of) asked if I was going to the gaming room. I DID kind of plan on checking it out, and I had a bit for time before I was expected elsewhere, so ... why not.

Besides.. Donn looked like the type whom one might not like when he became angry.
Or something. I never asked what he was going for with his outfit, and I never asked, hoping that I would clue in on my own eventually. At any rate, once the vendor room was all 'tied down', I headed over, a few doors down.

I used to be pretty heavy into pen&paper RPGs, but I really only ever played a system I made, and to a lesser degree, D&D 2nd edition. I BOUGHT 3rd edition mostly to see what was different, and to gawk at the pretty, pretty pictures. Alas, I don't think anyone plays 2nd edition anymore, and I didn't have time to get into any hardcore questing anyway. The best sessions take at least eight hours, right?

Conveniently, the game that Gabe and Donn had in mind was ... oh frig, I forget, and google isn't helping me.. "Yes my dark lord" or something.. Everyone is a lowly goblin, and the game master is the chief goblin. The game begins as something has been found to have gone wrong. No one knows who's fault it is, and it's the players duty to blame any other player by making up stores based on the clue cards you get. If you're doing a bad job, or speak out of turn or something.. the GM gives you a ... I think it was called a 'disdainful glower' card. If you get three of these cards, you're toast.

Confused? We were too, it was the first time for all of us. Without full understanding, we lept in and began. Soon Gabe and I were blaming each other for all kinds of things, from being a secret evil sorcerer, and screaming like a little girl as our hot air balloon was going down. I have no idea what the original problem was. It was fun. I lost. I'm not even sure how anymore, it didn't matter. I didn't have time for another game, but that didn't stop me from jabbering on anyway.

Yeah, next up was the SFCanada meeting/party in the other building. by now, my sleep deprivation and taurine-based metabolism had me in a pretty silly condition. I think this was when I ran into a handful of random people outside, and being slowed by a crossing car, ended up talking for ten or so minutes about nothing.

Did I mention I was already late? I was invited to this party last year, and couldn't go due to having to commute home after the book launch event. So I was now one year and twenty minutes late. Bear in mind, gentle reader, my memory is akin to a goldfish swimming in beer, so I may have messed up the order of some events.

I got into the other building, on the floor of the SFCanada meeting. Here, I encountered several cosplayers. I think. Know what? Let's take this opportunity to mention some of the cosplayers.

Earlier in the vendor room, I spotted one miss Amelia Pond:

I should have gotten her to pose next to Professor Whovianart. Alas, hindsight. For those not in the know, this is how adult 'Amy Pond' appeared first in the latest incarnation of Dr. Who. She isn't a cop, she's a singing telegram girl, or something. Not a stripper, heavens no, the BBC would not stand for that in a Dr. Who! As it was, many people had their feathers ruffled, in one way or another.

By the way. Knock knock.
Who's there?
Doctor.
Doctor w-
Yeah, that's the cheapest joke I've learned lately. Or maybe this one: Did you hear the 'me neither' joke? No? Me neither.

Yeah, I'm sorry. Now go inflict those jokes upon others. Alright, back to cosplayers... I saw this one guy a lot earlier in a crowd. Just a glance, and I thought, "Geez, I'm not gonna tell him what he looks like... they might be his usual look'. But later I saw him posing up a storm, and I got a good look.

Why yes, it's MATHEW PATEL! RAMONA'S FIRST! EVIL! EX!He had the moves, he had the speech down pat, it was right on. Unfortunately, I didn't get a great shot. If my camera went off when I hit the button, as compared to a second later... oh well.. sorry.

Of course, I had to get a shot of someone from the 501st. For those of you who didn't know, these guys number in the thousands all over north america. They's is big. He had a handful of storm trooper at VCON, at least one Boba Fett, a couple storm trooper variants.. I didn't spot any sith this year though.Someone who dressed inspired by Team Fortress 2:And Ezio from Assassin's Creed 2: (John Guston Klinger won the costume contest; and who dare vote against him? That knife on his wrist really retracted and deployed like the character...!Not that I'm much of a fan of TF2 or AC2, they were just neat costumes. I also got a shot of this girl, who wasn't playing as a character- she just wanted to dress like that. I thought she looked like she could be a character from Scott Pilgrim. The comic.. maybe not the movie.Whew. I think this entry's gone on long enough. Next entry: SFCanada party, and the dance..!

VCON 35, 2010- Saturday, part 1- Return to the vendor room!

2010-10-15T18:08:00.000-07:00

The vendor room was pretty much as we had left it. As far as my table went, except that my poster of Regan had fallen off the wall.

I had also laid down my display of books the night before, and moved flimsy things like bookmarks away form the edge, lest someone walk by and toss them asunder, so I had to set those up.

It didn't take long for the war of bookmarks resumed with Steve Fahnestalk, and for visitor flow to pick up better than any period of friday. With dry fruitloops now pumping into my veins, washed down by a little concentrated taurine poisoning, my lack of sleep didn't matter. It was party time!

Suddenly, Danielle Golden joined the party! Level ??? dual-wielding ranger:

I hope they don't mind me ripping this pic form their facebook gallery.. 'they' being the Border Guardians of Ackernon. She was there in costume, promoting their stuff! She impressed my aunt on friday, "Joey, there's this girl in this funny costume, she's cute, you should draw her!"

Okay, I figured my aunt had just run into her first cosplayer, but when I met Danielle, the pieces clicked together. We chatted for a fair while. Some time later, I heard someone nearby commenting on her awesome outfit, and I said "I KNOW, yeah? It makes me want to play her!... IN A GAME, I mean. In a game!"

I don't know if anyone believed me.

Many of the orbiters came around a few times, including Gabe, the young man seeking his destiny! A quest, an epic quest! - who I mentioned in a previous blog entry. He made me an offer I couldn't refuse... but I told him to be patient. One more day, and his destiny would be fulfilled. Assuming the U.N. didn't interfere.. more on that in coming blog entries..

In the end, there can be only one. Or something.

This was the longest and busiest vendor shift. Sales were decent, and I remembered to give away some nice juicy posters of my art when 1)they bought more than one book, AND 2)they looked like they might like one, AND 3)I remembered to offer.

It was always great to talk to people who'd read some of my stuff, and were up for the next book- be that the newest one, Echoes of Erebus, or they were a book behind, needing Watching Yute. Heck, two people bought all three at once. The first time it happened, I thought "Oooh! A hat-trick! My first ever! I wonder why this never happened at previous VCONs, c"... oh.. yeah.. I never had 3 books before. Fair enough.

Wanna know the devious sales tactics I had developed by mid-day? A person walking by glances at my table, and I tell them something like "Well, THERE'S the hardened stare of someone seeking a free bookmark!"

About half the people would grab one. Among the other half were people who politely declined, and a very minor ..ùh.. minority who ignored me. Among those who grabbed them, (and I was always interested to see which of the 3 they would grab-tip blood catches the eye) most would read the bookmark, then look at the books.

As chatty as I am, I had to let them read the back of a book for a bit before yapping away. I'd then maybe mention, "Technically, they're a trilogy, but I went out of my way to make them all readable as stand alones.." and some discussion would normally start snowballing from there. When I realized I was doing a similar thing repeatedly, I felt like a bit of a shmuck.. but it started some fun discussions, and the odd sale.. so who am I to complain?

Next post: The after events- My visit to the gaming room, the party with the SciFi Canada crew, and the dance..!

VCON 35, 2010- Friday, part 4- Hotel night 1

2010-10-14T20:51:00.000-07:00

With the book launch event thankfully behind me, I had to go find my room. My room was in a different hotel than the convention. Why? I'm che- FRUGAL. Gotta say though, I KIND of felt like a chump abandoning the hotel hosting the convention, in favor of a nearby competitor. Oh well.

I had a large bin that I'd been hauling around since the close of the vendor room. A masterpiece of rubbermaidery, when it sat in my lap, it came up to my chin. No one asked what it was. I learnt from Dr. Who: (paraphrased)

"What do people do when they're walking along and see a big blue box sitting in the middle of the street? They keep walking."

And my box was no where near as big, nor time-travelly. It was, however, filled with paraplegic overnight stuffies. And it needed to go for a walk. A ride. In my lap, down the street, across it, and to my destination hotel. It was not super stable in my lap, and I needed to pull it back into place regularly, especially when there's any little abnormality in the terrain.

The trip looked like five blocks or so on a map. No biggie. I wheel more than that around town taking kiddo to the gym/preschool, whatever. When I used googlemap's street view (also useful for checking out flatness of terrain) it looked like two or three blocks.

When it came to actually making the trip, I got to the corner of the convention hotel's property, and poof. There was my destination practically across the street.

Huh. That was-
Though I still had to cross. I hit the button to get the signal, and waited my turn, then off I went. I had to adjust the bin a lot. Off the sidewalk cutout, onto the street, rushing to get out of the way, and now I needed both hands to 'jump' safely onto my target cutout. Just an inch or so of wheelie to make sure my front wheels decide to continue forward, as opposed to stopping hard, and dumping me out. I stayed in my chair; it was a little jump that was easier than most. The bin disagreed.

Time slowed a little as I watched it teeter, unable to get a hand safely up to it in time. I had time to know that the bin was going to go over, and judge where it was going to land. I had time to imagine all of the contents spilling out. There was no drain or anything nearby to claim my things, and I easily accepted that I'd be spending some time picking my things up and putting them back in the bin.

It fell forward, in the direction I had predicted, landing where I had predicted. The top fell off, and..

Huh. Everything else stayed in. Well. That was anti-climactic.
After check-in, I headed to my room on the ground floor. No elevator ride? Aww. Once I got in there, I did a little inspection for my needs. Bathroom was a little smaller than I would ideally want, but it beat the snot out of a lot of 'accessible' rooms I've seen elsewhere. The bed was a tad high, but no big deal. And yup, there was a Gideon Bible there. But who wants religious advice from this guy?

Seriously. What a douche. BTW, I so want the Scott Pilgrim DVD/Blueray to come out.. thought I'd like to watch it on a big...

Hey wait..! What one effin second...!
The cheap hotel room has a bigger TV than me! A lot bigger! Wh.. I.. No! Hotels are supposed to have crappy little TVs that barely work.

First thing's first. There's a few people I have to call. Paranoid people, some or which thought that the epic journey in the dead of night (uh.. 10 pm?) in this seedy neighborhood, (seriously, you could have figuratively eaten off of that neighborhood) would be too dangerous for widdle ole' me. Rang my mum first, then my dad, who had been calling my cell (which I can never hear ringing, especially not in a crowded room), then my wife.

She had been taking calls from my dad, who .. I don't know, was calling around to see if my body had been found yet. My wife had a new issue for me to worry about, concerning my tenant. (long story, I might blog it after I'm done the VCON stuff, it's kinda funny. Kinda. In a sad way.)

Alright, enough phone calls. Oh, by the way, I couldn't get a call out of the room. Dialed 9 and all that crap, but I just kept getting an odd busy signal for everything. Thankfully, I had my cell.

I unpacked my bin of overnight stuff. My teddy bear, my ipod loaded with David Hasslehoff music, and my inflatable sex doll. Or not. My 'rations' were in there too. A box of granola bars that I wasn't in the mood for. There was a vending machine in the hall less than 10 feet from my door, so I summoned up the loose change I had, (I wasn't dealing in coins in the vendor table) and got a chocolate bar and sunchips.

I eat very little during a VCON.. roughly a meal's worth of food, snacky bit at a time, and energy drinks. As if I wasn't hyper enough already at VCON. I got my findings, and went back to my room. Hey, was it chilly in here?

I flipped on the TV. Stargate:Universe was just coming on. Aw, piss. I really should do my gimp-stuff and get that over with. No biggie. At that moment, my PVR was waking up at home, nabbing it for me. I didn't have PVR last year and I managed to catch a rerun later anyway.

I wasn't in the mood to enjoy the show now anyway. Between the lackluster friday sales, the belly-drop of a book launch, and the news of my tenant being an extra pain... well, at this point, being here at VCON didn't feel like a good idea. Sales wise, it wasn't worse than any other VCON friday. I knew that. And the book launch event wasn't really a selling point anyway. But I wanted to do my reading. But tomorrow is the big day. And I have a reading sunday anyway. Still.... the logic didn't help my mood much.

By the time I got my gimp-stuff done, I'd forgotten about Stargate. No sense tuning in part-way anyway. I double checked that I had everything I needed for bed.

Aw piss. I brought my favorite sport bottle for water, and left it in the dealer's room. The coffee table in the room had paper cups.. too small for my tastes, and I didn't feel like having a row of cups of water on the nightstand. So I filled up the coffee pot with water, and sat that on my nightstand. Cuz that makes SO much more sense.

I got settled into bed, and got attached to what needs attaching. Set the alarm. Everything was good. Turn on that TV, and skim things to wind down before passing out. Tomorrow was going to be the busy day.

Frig it's cold.

And yet, Carrie Fisher wasn't calling out for me. The air conditioner was essentially right next to the bed, and seemed to be set to "No disintegrations, Mr. Fett" mode. I kept waiting for it to turn off. It didn't. It was noisy, and freezing me. No biggie, it's a big thick blanket, and I can 'man up' until my bod warmed the blanket up.

The fridge was noisy too. Outside the door, someone came to use the vending machine about once an hour... to claim one's purchase, you had to push in a wide, heavy noisy metal door, which would then fall back into place. It was cold. It was noisy. I had no way of reaching the AC's controls despite the large unit nearly being in my lap. Disappointment in friday, as well as tenant stress was banging around in my head. It's okay, it's okay. Man up, get to sleep.

5 am or so, I passed out from sheer exhaustion. The alarm went off at 8. Yeah, this was gonna be a good day.

I got myself together, (the bin could stay for the day) and saw the cord for the AC. Now that I was rolling, I double checked that I couldn't reach the controls. I could reach the cord. Pop. Yeah, well, it'll be nicer tonight, I guess. Off to claim my free breakfast. The room off of the lobby had very little wheeling space, and a pile of people. I got in far enough to grab a little box of fruit loops, and headed out.

It was a new day, and I had 3 hours of crabby sleep. Uh huh. It was time to get to my evergydrink stash waiting for me in the dealer room. Welcome to saturday.

VCON 35, 2010- Friday, part 3- Book Launch

2010-10-10T22:28:00.000-07:00

So, during the first vendor day, I'd handed over 2 copies of each book to Walter, (Was it Walter? I'm pretty sure...) of White Dwarf Books. He's a retailer, and each year, he sets up a table a the annual 'Book launch event', where people can grab books being pitched at the event. This leaves the authors free to shmooze, and not carry around books, looking desperate to make sales. Walter gets a cut, which hey... that's okay.

Three years ago, I was invited to the launch event for the 2nd edition of Lifehack. I was told I would be doing a reading. In public. Out loud. To humans. Live.

eep.

And I didn't have many days to prep for that. That first 'book launch' event was terrifying. I showed up, I asked Walter stupid questions, I chatted with a ton of people, waiting to be called up to read.. waiting for.. anyone to be called up to read. There was about ten authors in the crowd, all with new books within the last year. Alright, maybe I was cheating, only the 2nd edition of my book was launched in that year... but the VCON organizer didn't seem to mind.

And then it was announced that due to the noisiness of the room, readings were canceled. As disappointed as I was, I suddenly realized that I could now breathe. Good thing the reading was canceled too, I had some reading experiences shortly after that told me I was not ready.

Skip ahead a year. New venue, better acoustics. I showed up to chatter, not expecting to, but ready to read. I'd had some practice in writing meetup groups. No pro by any means, but good enough to not embarrass myself. Reading started late, but it went well.

Skip ahead to this year. The time got move to 7pm, right when the dealer room was closing. No loss, so I miss 5 minutes for the lengthy chatter period.

I'm looking for the launch event, expecting to find a lounge-like environment, with tables spread out like a cafe. I stick my head in one door, and see a room not much larger than a classroom, with dealer-like tables set up along the sides. Whoops, that's not right. I ask someone outside,

"Do you know where the book launch event is?"
"This is it."

Ya rly.

Kay. Um... so.. other authors are here with books set up like rushed vendor tables, all with a stack of their books in front of them. and here I am, no table. Oh, there's Walter over there. Walter's apparently only getting a cut off of me this year, I guess. No worries, really. I was more in WTF mode to care.

I looked for an empty table- there was none. I heard later that I was not the only table-less author in the room by any means. The lady who organized the event, I'm told, ran it 2 years prior. No one seemed that pleased with how the event was going. I can't remember the lady's name, she seemed nice enough, but ... this was a mess.

As it was, I had to email VCON a month beforehand to make sure I was INVITED to the book launch event, which I'd never had to do before. Maybe part of being lost in THAT shuffle was me missing a memo where the event had been turned into... something else. Ish.

Alright, enough pouting, lemonade time. I camped in a blank spot next to one of the tables, and met Geoff(rey W.) Cole. He was there representing a book he's contributed to, "The Blackness Within: Stories of the Pagan God Moccus". We grumbled about the muddy chaos that was the launch event, and the lack of readings. It turned out that he had a solo reading scheduled on sunday. I'd seen single-author readings in the VCON program, and wondered how a person got such a thing. I guess you just ask! At any rate, he'd been given the room for an hour, and wasn't sure if he could fill the time.. so.. HI! Why YES, I think I can fill up some time!

I sat at my invisible table for a while longer, handing bookmarks out as visitors made the rounds... There was a lot of people there, and it was noisy, but overall.. it felt like there was nothing going on. Maybe that was just my WTF still lingering.

Walter came by, giving up for the night, returning my books to me. He stated the obvious and told me there were no sales. I smirked and glanced around the room. He nodded. No shock, I didn't care. I wanted to do a reading, that was what I looked forward to at the launch event.

I didn't hear the announcement, but at some point, it must have been declared over, people started leaving en masse. Yeah, well, that was it. It was over.

Friday was unexpectedly slow in the vendor room, and this kind of felt like a bonus kick in the teeth. I could have been crashing someone's party or something. Heck, I could have gone and hung out in the gaming room, and check out what the D&D kiddies are playing these days.

Silver lining to the event? I had a reading anyway, on sunday, and met Geoff. Still.. overall, a realllly disappointing book launch event. With any luck, next year's will be better... and I won't have a new book to launch.

Piss on it. Day one wasn't a wash, but it felt pretty close at that point. It was okay, it was okay, the vendor room went good for a friday. Moving on.

Next post: The hotel room

VCON 35, 2010- Friday, part 2- Rehearsal

2010-10-07T11:42:00.000-07:00

I call it dress rehearsal, because most of this 'shift' (1pm-7pm) is slow as mud. People get off work at 5 or 6, maybe even have dinner, then straggle by. That leaves most of the day in the vendor's room pretty quiet.

Gung-ho earlybirds were first on the scene, I guess. The people milling about were soon a mix of early visitors and slowpoke vendor setups. Such visitors are there on a recon mission. Scope the scene, absorb a mental overview of the room, then continue mapping the rest of the con. Some of this type wander the whole con all weekend. I call em Orbiters.

Orbiters provide some good company when things are otherwise slow. -Er, not to slight my neighboring vendors, but orbiters bring news from the outside. Vendors are all shackled to their tables, except when Jeff (Jeff Currey, I mentioned him in the last post) comes by to unlock us to go to the water cooler, or washroom. All hail Jeff! Paradigm of Order! I just learned that this was Jeff's last VCON before moving to Ontario. Doubtlessly to bring Order to that savage land.

One such Orbiter was named Gabe:

Hark ye, Gabe, young man seeking his destiny! A quest, an epic quest! Being an Orbiter, I'd learn more of this epic quest in days to come. Little did I know that I was to be integral to this quest. And I'm gonna be a dick, and hold you in suspense until I blog about sunday.

In a totally unrelated note, on my table also lay an item I built to strike up convers- I mean to showcase before the U.N. snapped it up:

I thought the world needed to see it before the U.N. snatched it up, and it disappeared into some black ops involving eggs, pancakes, and possibly assassinations. The smaller text that you probably can't see:
-Laser Guidance (batteries dead)
-Photonic-based night vision assistance
-AM transistor radio (option not yet included in this year's model)
-Sniper scope (broken)
This Spetula was more recently used to flick fleas off of a rabid, muddy dog, and may carry a variety of diseases. This is a good thing! It's like a poison coating to enhance attacks. As long as I'm at VCON, I'm also selling my books. They are not scoped, laser guided, and have no night vision, so they are just $15. I'm pretty sure they don't carry diseases.

Photo credit goes to Steve Fahnestalk. speaking of Steve-

He was running his table alongside his wife across the aisle. Used books. He was running a kind of clearance sale. Most of his books were $1 or 2. Hmm. And I'm selling for $15. Hmm. BUT MY BOOKS ARE SHINY. And have a much higher lesbian ratio! Zombies, too! And I highly doubt that any of his have an exploding, flying log.

Oh yeah, it was on. He was also giving out free bookmarks. Again, mine were shinier. and in CoLoUr!! Alright, alright, anyone walking around in that room was offered a bajillion free bookmarks, but it was war anyway. When a visitor walked between us, they were liable to be in the middle of an outlandish slander-fest about opposing bookmarks. They carry disease, they carry nanites of good and evil varieties, gypsy curses, and upon reading the bookmarks, a person is then doomed to buy the associated book. Here's a picture of Steve. Or one of his employees. Tell me, would you take a bookmark from this guy?

I didn't think so. Spikes beat balloons, simple mechanics.

At the end of the 'shift' things had picked up a little in terms of traffic. Sales were still low, but this was recon day. Most of us were multi-VCON veterans, we knew this was normal. Anyone new this year was probably pretty worried at this point. Nothing I or anyone could say about this being normal can entirely wash away the little voice saying "I'm wasting my time here." Patience, little ones. Patience.

OK, that's a good place to wrap up a post. I skipped a lot of great folks, but I'll have to catch up on them in later posts. No one likes HUGE blog entries. So this is were we'll end... end of dealer hours on Friday, Oct 1.

Next up: Friday Part 3- Book launch event

VCON 35, 2010- Friday, part 1- Establish camp

2010-10-06T20:13:00.000-07:00

This might take a few posts, the con was a blast.

October 1

I wake up. This annoying habit happens every day, but today the mission was different. As a parallelogram, a paralegal, a parenthesis, heck, a gimp, I had to pack a little extra gear for my 2 nights away from home. I had most of it all ready, as well as my books, the stuff for my table, posters, banners, and a handful of things I wouldn't need... but.. just in case..

I only needed help getting the cargo to the con, but my nominee for that favour was my dad, who made it his mission to make sure that I didn't have to face the evils of transit. This year, transit was a tad more favourable that previous years. VCON likes to settle in 3 hours from my home via transit, but this year it was going to be 2. But he was determined. My Aunt Brigitte joined the party, and we ended up using her car.

To those not in the know- Getting a paraplegic into any given car can be a challenge, depending on the car. But we got it working. I bit farewell to my darling Caitlin,

"What? You're still here, dad? GET LOST, ALREADY!!"

And we were off. A block later, our organizational skills were put under the microscope. "What do you MEAN it's in RICHMOND?"

Alright, alright, the V in VCON stands for 'Vancouver', but.. he never saw the address, and I had my plans written in transit instructions. No matter! Between the three of us, we could figure it out! We were one member short of of a Seinfeld re-enactment. I wasn't too fond of that show.

It wasn't that bad. Aside from 2 minute clusters of panic, separated by 20 minutes at a time of holding our breath, we finally got there. Never having been issued a map of the convention venue itself, (VCON info can be hard to track down...) getting to the vendor room was an extra little cap off to the navigation fun. The con was actually held in two neighboring hotels. Upon finding the room, the tables were not yet all set up.

Jeff, (an ex bouncer, no less) who's been an organizational asset to VCON for at least as long as I've been going... (probably a lot longer) Anyway, Jeff sees me and my crew coming. He knows I was looking for a table that was at an end, so my getting in and out wouldn't mean trashing my wheelchair through someone else's stuff. I got a table right inside the door visitors would pass by, and with a wall to my back. Score. Couldn't have picked better, really.

I put my big black box of doom onto the end of the table. The fellow setting up the table for 'Atomic Fez Publishing' asks me, "No spikes this year?" He was referring to these:

I attended VCON last year with those goggles and spiked shouderpads. The hair, face-blood and bunny ears evolved later that month.. But I didn't want to wear all that to the con. I wanted to appear.. a TINY bit professional... I guess..

When he asked about the spikes, I smiled, and tapped on the big black box of doom. Until that moment, I wondered if I'd even be bringing them out. Steel-belted chafing aside, I'm glad I did.

I got my stuff spread out- this big poster of Alisia on the table, serving as a colourful 'placemat' to the books. One tower of the three, completing the design on the spines...

Then a semi-circular array of each book showing its front, angled like reflectors feeding sunlight back to the central collector. In the space between, I laid down each book face down, inviting people to pick em up, and read the back. I set up a couple other posters on the handy wall behind me, like Regan and an eye-catching one of Alisia.

BC Chains' Kevin (Kevin? I think..) was set up all the way across the room. I'd have to raid his little treasure chest of candy when I got my VCON bucks. A lot of familiar faces from the last 2 years were in effect. The first time I went to a VCON, it felt like a family of nerds, and that notion becomes more apparent every year. Lets save us both some time. If you wanna see a list of 'the gang', look here. A couple are new, a couple are missing from previous years, but yeah. Well timed lent tape, nods and chatter as the last bits were being put into place. It was 1pm. We were now 'on'.

Next post: Friday, part 2- Rehearsal.

VCON! OCT1-3, I WILL BE THE MUST-SEE!

2010-09-26T15:59:00.000-07:00

Friday, Friday Friday!!

My table in the vendor's room will not only be home to my 3rd novel, "Echoes of Erebus", the previous two novels, "Lifehack" and "Watching Yute", but two unexpected things will be there too!

LIVE and unedited, I will be creating! What, you may ask? Hardcore porn? Summoning dead prophets from a variety of religions? Rationalizing glittering vampires? NO! I'll be scribbling out an outline map of my next novel, a so far untitled non-sci-fi about a guy who plays with blood! He's a nice guy, honestly. I'm not being sarcastic. I'll be doing this on big paper, and I may break out in sketches from time to time.

Also, I will be showcasing my great invention! I won't give away any spoilers, but it will revolutionize combat and/or culinary arts in this century!

Books inbound, website tweak, and radom rants bout the bat signal, and Regan.

2010-09-08T20:06:00.000-07:00

No, Regan doesn't get a bat signal. I have a lot of stupid things to say, but one basic bit of housekeeping to do:

Hardcovers and softcovers are waiting for me at the end of their postage adventure. I expect the hardcovers in my hands this week sometime, and the softcovers on friday. You locals who pre-ordered through me can expect a call/email soon. The rest of the world will (as foretold) have to either order off the net, or hope I have leftovers from my personal supply after VCON at the start of october. I have the first copy of the final thing, and it is purdy.

Oh, and a tweaked the background of the website a little. Now with CABLES. Whee! Might add a little LED trim to them later. We'll see.

Ok, stupid thing #1- The batsignal. Iconic, classic. Stupid. What century are we living in? You're telling me that the easiest way to get a hold of Batman is the same as used by car dealerships to draw attention-deficit customers? Get a ****ing pager, Bruce! Yeah, yeah, it could potentially be traced and reveal his secret identity, but there's gotta be a hack around this crap. Are you telling me that a billionaire who can magically use everyone's cellphones to see everything everywhere, (LAME) is prone to the horrors of *69? (LAMIER)

The only reasonable excuse for the batsignal to still exist is to spook criminals. As Adam West once said to the commissioner, "Criminals are a cowardly and superstitious lot."

So... yeah.

Stupid thing #2-
In Lifehack, I refer to Sgt. Parker as a 'puppy', in that he's well-meaning, innocent, and a little clueless at times. And loyal. He got his name originally from a puppy that I was babysitting for a month or so.

And I realized the other day, Parker isn't the puppy in Lifehack, it's Regan. Regan's tenaciously loyal, pretty clueless in a lot of ways, doesn't realize the world isn't all about her, well meaning, and she will metaphorically hump the leg of her chosen love, whether welcome or not. And not always so metaphorically, I suspect. For such a goofy character, she's aged well since Lifehack came out. I guess that's how she's talked me into making little appearances in Watchign Yute and Echoes of Erebus.

Not by humping my leg. She's a lesbian, and I wouldn't feel it anyway.

Stupid thing #3-
Scott Pilgim. Well, not Scott directly, but the kinds of realizations I've come to due to his influence. I've been listening to the movie soundtrack lately, and it's led me to think that Scott Pilgrim vs The World is the kind of movie that the Beatles would be making today.

-If the Beatles were a little less into peace and love, and a little more into punching stuff hard enough to toss them a few blocks away, for no apparent reason. Seriously. It's not even as if being stupidly strong is unusual, (except for vegans and cyborgs), and maybe that's part of SP's charm. The everyman is a superman. Every everyman. As said in an interview with one of the... uh.. was it the director? Edgar Wright.

"...a musical, but instead of people breaking into song when the emotion is too strong, they break out into fights."

-Which works bloody awesome. and the fights aren't even bloody. Sure, they're mad at each other when fists start flying, but there isn't the cruel suffering highlighted in many other action flicks. It's... fun violence. Okay, maybe it over-glamorizes violence, but until girls actually start to pull giant glowing mallets out of their handbags, we might be alright.

And for the record, I think the antagonist could use a movie all on his own. He's got a big backstory that's barely touched in the comic, but would make for a good story to tell.

Ehhh, I've gotten way off track. This week, I wanna be a crappy indie rocker in a crappy apartment downtown. Scott Pilgrim is just another blow, pushing me further along the slowly brewed midlife crisis that got put on the pot when I was 25.

Peace, man.

Michelle Rodriguez = Regan Grier

2010-08-24T22:32:00.001-07:00

I'm still waiting for Joss Wheadon to get back to me about that Lifehack movie, but I have a casting suggestion for him. My gal Regan:

To be played by Michelle Rodriguez. Okay, I know nuthin about her other than seeing her on a movie ad on TV, (Machette) and what I learned from the google results page for her, but she's known for playing toughies. And Regan's a toughie. I guess I should watch one of her movies to see if she has any talent. Derp.

Anyone else have casting suggestions for Alisia, Parker and Kris?

Scott Pilgrim (And some Echoes news)

2010-08-22T08:56:00.000-07:00

Quick update on Echoes of Erebus before I go on about Scott- The trade paperback edition has finally been released here, although it will be a few days before Amazon links of to my Amazon page. Well, Amazon sells it, (For some reason listing it as "Volume 1") but hasn't included it in my author page quite yet. By the time you read this, it may very well be up to speed.

Point is, it's out. All 3 formats now. Now I just have to go into the world and push it! On that note, GO BUY MY BOOKS. See? Superliminal advertising. And people say I don't sell my stuff hard enough. I even increased the font size for that. A little. I wouldn't want to seem rude.

So, Scott Pilgrim, eh? I recently got yo read the 6th book, I bought the game, and yesterday, I saw the movie. Sheep? Me? Naaaaaaahhh. OK, here we go:

The books. (Comic) Classic, to be sure. OK, not that old, but classic anyway. 6th (and final) book is very recent. Cute art, if not A-shelf, still makes the characters endearing for all their faults. Predictably enough, the books have the elbow room to explore the characters a lot more than any other form of Scottiness. Scott himself is a bit of a knob, and his childish ignorance comes at a cost to him at every turn. And he doesn't get it. His plight is just pathetic enough to trigger empathy, moments before he says or does something that reminds you that he is an idiot.

The old indie and video game references seem aimed squarely at generation X. There's websites devoted to digging out every little reference to a game or band, but many of them are right in your face. "Are we an item?" Remona asks.. Scott ponders several Mario items, cluelessly. The name of his band is the Sex Bob-ombs. Rival bands include the "Clash at demonhead" and "Crash and the boyz". If none of these ring any bells... well, you just can't appreciate SP on the levels intended... but it's still good otherwise. You might even get educated about the 80s. Come to think of it...Be afraid.

The game. Did I say 'the 80s'? Yes, I'm pretty sure I did. Strongly STRONGLY inspired by old games from the NES especially, this 2D side scrolling beat-em-up has been compared most directly to "River City Ransom", complete with shops to buy powerups and using enemies as weapons. Your easy-to-preform list of combat moves grows as you level up. I was also reminded of Double Dragon 2. As with the comic, there's a pile of different game references, down to the faux 'glitching' in some areas, and beating up giant blocks for coins. While the game isn't too bogged down in story, (about as much as those old NES games), there's tons of background appearances by other characters from the books. (For the record, the only thing the game has in common with the movie is that they're both based on the comic.)

The game also happens to just PLAY REALLY WELL. It's fun. It plays like you remember those old games playing. Here's a secret.. those old games don't actually play as well as you remember. That's the effect of nostalgia smoothing out the edges. Scott's game smooths out those edges for you. It plays as well as your faulty memory of the past. Bend your brain around that.

The movie-First, the bad. And it's not that bad. The casting of Michael Cera as Scott... well... It's really not what I pictured from the comic. He does a good job, sure. It's just not what I pictured. Same with Mary Elizabeth Winstead as Ramona. It just wasn't what I pictured. Ramona got played much... crabbier than I saw her as in the comics. But by the end of the movie, I just sucked it up and had fun with it.

Of course anyone who's seen the TV ads for the movie know they plunk in some video game/comic special effects. They're there a lot more than the TV ad implies. The comic itself has so many 'commentary' boxes (many of which are pointless) that you really needed 2 scoops of them in the movie. The movie did a TON of things right. Things I missed were simply because... time!

Knives Chau, on the other hand, had more proportional face-time that she did in the comics, and she was painted a bit more heroically. A bit. No one's a full saint in Scott's world, but Knives takes a step closer. Close enough that you wanted to grant all her wishes by the end. But that wouldn't work, now would it?
Oh yeah, the movie, and Knives, DO have their moments of awesome.

------------
For some reason, in every incarnation of Scott Pilgrim- everyone can fight. (Bloodlessly) And they can fight well. Why? How? Who cares. When you get thrown a couple hundred yards against the upper reaches of a castle tower, then fall 5 or so stories, needing only to walk it off, you realize quickly that reality was not invited to this party. And that's okay.

The endings of each of the 3 incarnation are a bit different. One will give you generalized spoilers for all of them, but they all play out differently. The 'set' of the final fight in the game is entirely different that the movie, which fights much differently that in the comic, etc etc. If you liked one, you'll like the other 2 incarnations. (Unless of course, you just hate great games.)

Wow. It's almost as if they planned it that way. ;_;

I'm a sheep. I got em all. I get like this now and then. Last year around this time, I seem to remember getting obsessive over Rammstein. I get into something, and I want to absorb. I guess that's good marketing. Or I'm naturally a sheep

Bryan Lee O'Malley makes it huge with his lil indie comic, Danny LuVisi makes it HUGE with his gorgeous art, with POOF, movie and game deal.... Alright then! MY TURN!

I-Pad. Yeah, I'm there. So.. where is IT? I'll TELL YOU!

2010-08-05T00:24:00.000-07:00

Most of you don't know that Lifehack and Watching Yute have been available on I-pad's own e-book store thingie. iBooks. Frankly, I dunno the details... (ahem)... I have people who take care of such trifling matters for me.

(again folks... no images get imported directly to my facebook notes, so maybe you need to start swinging by my actual blog... Ozero blog )

And I've just completed the necessary steps to get Echoes of Erebus into iBooks. So soon, you will be able to read all 3 of my novels on your iPad while your own cyberbutler pilots your around the world in your Tardis-Class Flying Hummer. Thankfully the iPad can be held in one hand, freeing the other to deftly freebase ground-up unicorn horn. Hopefully you can concentrate on reading while your team of genetically engineered sex-slaves pleasure you.

Wow... just wow. I didn't know unicorns could perform the heimlich.

I guess what I'm trying to say is- the iPad's a little pricey.

...

Echoes of Erebus behind the scenes peek-

2010-08-03T23:28:00.000-07:00

Anyone wanna see the nitty gritty? I don't think there's any big spoilers here, but brace yourself.....

YEAH. MIND blowing, huh? Oh yeah, soak it in. (Those of you who are seeing this blog through facebook will have to go to my core blog, http://ozeroblog.blogspot.com/, to see it. Sorry. FB stinks at importing blogs...

So, yeah. See all that? I found this while 'cleaning' up my 'desk'. As far as I can tell, it's the first physical sign of this book being put into motion. Unless you count my old, old, "pre-Lifehack-as-a-novel" short story, which was the basis for the book in a lot of ways.

And what's with Quetzalcoatl? This was a 'free' notepad I customized. The customization didn't cost anything, so I dumped in the first silly thing that came to mind. Knowing about Quetzalcoatl (thank you, D&D) made me look like some arcane guru, and afforded me 15 seconds of fame in a trivia quiz at the Dueckman's monster-themed wedding reception.

Final Fantasy 8 had ole' Quetzy as a summon, and butchered him. Such is the least of my complaints about that game, but I'll avoid getting myself into a froth, and instead, point any fellow ff8 haters towards Mr. Spoony, whom I agree with 99.9% of the time. It's creepy....
http://spoonyexperiment.com/2007/04/04/final-fantasy-viii-review-part-1/
There's a huge set of these going through the whole game, and a pile of well-founded hate. Don't mind his ads, he's gotta make a buck somewhere.

Exploding Glitter Glue. (and Echoes status update)

2010-08-02T23:41:00.000-07:00

Exploding glitter glue. Exploding glitter glue. Exploding glitter glue.

Wanna know what three words should never be uttered together? "Celine Dion album"?

(WTF happened here, Celine? Canada was already trying to distance ourselves from you.)

Yes, but also:

Exploding. Glitter. Glue.

My darling Caitlin convinced me it was painting time. We got to her little plastic easel. She brought out this bottle of glitter glue.

I hate glitter. It gets all over, and is a pain to clean up. And when you're done, you're still finding glitter peeking at you mockingly from previously innocent looking and/or cleaned surfaces for days. I avoid using glitter whenever I can, even if Caitlin loves the stuff.

Thankfully, we have a couple bottles of this glitter glue. The glitter is suspended in a colored glue. No dust ups possible. Brilliant! Lovely! she liked to get some on the page, then smear it around with a paintbrush. She couldn't generally squeeze out much from the bottle, so daddy has to help. Yes, fine. We started putting it in these little dishes that we has also been using for regular paint.

This works great! She gets her glitter fix, and I don't end up looking like I'd spent the night clubbing as a drag queen.
All is well, yes? The problem is, I'm not entirely sure where these glitter glue bottle came from. I'm not talking about China, and fears of chemical hazards for kids...

("Who you callin' a tool?")

No, I think these glitter glues were some kind of hand-me-down or something... a family member or family friend who had a bit of craft/art supplies they didn't have a use for, and kindly gave to Caitlin. Previously perhaps in a basement or garage for some time. Before that? On the shelf at Wal-mart or something for an untold time. Previous to that?

Oh yeah. China.

No escaping me, lazy western dog!

Know what happens to plastic when it gets old? It gets brittle. So, trying to make a good push on the bottle, SNAP! The bloody thing snapped right in half, and glittering, goopy doom erupted in all directions, like some clown's best impression of napalm. I took the brunt of the explosion, but somehow Caitlin didn't seem to get hit by a drop. To the left and the right of her, lots, but none on her that I could see.

Not to say she was unaffected.
She was startled, and staring at me, the mess in my hands and all around, wide eyed, quite ready to wail bloody murder. Until she looked around and realized the absurdity of it.

Due to cleanup efforts that BP could learn from, I no longer look like I slept with a nightmarish version of the patron slut in a dance club.

------------
I just realized that people who see my blog in facebook don't always get the inline images.. pity, that. Ozero blogger has em all in there if you didn't see any pics.

Echoes news time.

Hardcover- up and running.

Softcover- Final proof in the mail to me right now. Shortly after I get it, I play to authorize it to be sold online. It'll work its way into Amazon and such shortly after that.

Ebooks- up and running along side the hardcover. That's the nicest looking version of the ebook, but I'm busy converting one for smashwords, which has uglier, but a ton of formats for various readers... but the current PDF looks best, and MOST things read PDF.

Thassit folks!

Oh! And just another reminder that if you're local to me, and want one of my books, lemmie know before I make my big order, so I can get an extra softcover or hardcover for ya. ($15cdn and $25cdn when you get em from me, AND I'm paying the shipping from the printers) I'll have access to all 3 titles in this order, so if you've been meaning to get Lifehack or Watching Yute also... now's the time! Make a great gift! Cures acne! Scares away boogeymen!

Gathering an order...

2010-07-31T14:27:00.000-07:00

I will soon have to make an order to stock up for VCON (Vancouver sci-fi convention) so if any locals, (people I see face-to-face) want in on the order, let me know ASAP, so my numbers for VCON don't get messed up.

I'll be ordering hardcovers and softcovers of all 3 books, Lifehack, Watching Yute, and Echoes of Erebus. If you don't tell me, you could be out of luck* or just be leaving me with less stock for VCON, depending on timing.

*out of luck would mean that I might not have much stock after VCON, which risks you having to order over the net- which means having to pay shipping, and US funds.

Anyone who can buy direct from me, in person, pays $15 canadian for tradepaperbacks, or $25 for hardcover. People buying over the net get stuck with US pricing, ($15.95us for paperback, and 24.98 for hardcover) and shipping costs on top of that.

Let me know within a week or mayyybe two weeks before I do my big buy!

It's done. Echoes of Erebus is done. -HEY LOCALS!!

2010-07-31T01:34:00.000-07:00

The final cover and manuscript have been submitted for the softcovers. Phew. I KNOW they're set up right, the editing copy more or less proves it anyway.. but I don't think I'll be able to relax until I get the 'final proof'.

HEY, LOCAL READERS!

By this, I specifically mean anyone who lives close enough to get a copy right from me.

When I get the final proof, I'll be ordering my 'big batch', specifically aimed at the Vancouver Sci-fi Convention. (VCON). If you want a copy, (or copies) let me know SOON. When someone gets the book online, it'll be $15.95us, +shipping-

But any local who wants a copy can get em from me at $15.oo cnd with no shipping cost. I'm eating the shipping and exchange rate, like I did in the past.

On top of 'Echoes of Erebus', I'll also be refilling my personal stock of 'Lifehack' and 'Watching Yute', so if any of you want copies of those, let me know.

---

Whew.. Still feeling jumpy from sending in the final manuscript. Now I have to set up the ebooks and hardcovers.. OH YEAH, IF ANYONE WANTS HARDCOVERS, LET ME KNOW!

Whew. There's actually a lot less red tape involved with the ebooks and hardcovers. Once the softcover is set up, the others fall into place easier. I've only seen the softcover edit copy of Echoes of Erebus, but it's pretty. The hardcover's gonna be that much prettier. (and pricier, unfortunately.. $25 for hardcover)

New book concept

2010-07-09T00:30:00.000-07:00

I don't wanna give away too much, but....

It's not a sci-fi, no zombies, no lesbians. It'll be set in the present, and it's part comedy, part murder mystery/suspense. Think "Terry Pratchet doing a guest appearance on the X files, or Columbo." Or something.

"There's just one little thing still botherin' me Mister Shatner.
You said you're not an astronaut-
but I've seen some footage that implies otherwise. Might just be me.".

It's too early to be developing seriously on this right now, Echoes of Erebus is inches away from finalization, and I have a couple other writing tasks on my plate this month. One is just guild homework, about a day in the life of a turtle. You can expect me to post the short story here when it gets done...

Echoes takes priority though, even if my homework and the other project fall through the cracks.. Even if he turtle bit is late for the guild, I'll still post it.

My father's day church recital.

2010-06-21T18:33:00.000-07:00

Those of you know me know that I have no love for religion in general, though I try not to be a jerk to those with any sort of faith. Alas, my wife has (re?)discovered religion, and so I occasionally end up going with her to church functions of various kinds.

Also, every thursday a 'life group' (essentially a bible study thing- I call em the 'God Squad') meets in my living room. I attend just to be polite more than anything.

There's also cookies, generally.

The pastor (Henry) attends these little meetings, and he once jokingly called me 'the pagan'. Which I revel in. I'm the token pagan of the group. When one member was exclaiming about Jesus' resurrection, he seemed to think this was a unique thing no one had heard of before or since. Skipping right by the bible's own Lazarus, I pointed to a handful of other figures from various religions with prophets who came back, long, long before Jesus came 'round. (My favorite of which is Horus ... check the similarities) But this was met with a "Oh, I hadn't heard of those." And the discussion continued as if I'd said nothing. What did I expect?

Similarly, I was in the church's 3 year anniversary service, (a rare service appearance by me) and Henry was declaring with great joy about the uniqueness of Jesus' resurrection. I smiled, but bit my tongue, hard. As I was doing that, Henry added, "And I'm not talking about any of those MYTHS."

Que the eye roll as I pick my bitten-off tongue from the floor.

But I've ranted way off track. They're all really nice people, and if religion is important to them, I certainly won't go to an lengths to attack it, especially when they do some really good stuff, like the foodbank/counseling program my wife is starting up. It really hits towards the 'teach a man to fish' angle.

Where was I? Right. To the point. One time, I went along to 'open mic' night at the church. Religion rarely gets into the mix, but little ones are present, so it stays pretty PG, if not G. The wrangler of this thing is Carolyn, a songstress/guitar player, who occasionally has her young daughter perform with her.

If you look at the sum of the performers at open mic night, and average it out, you get 'average'. There's been some great stuff, and there's be unabashedly horrid stuff, which was applauded, appreciated and fun all the same. The highlight in that category I hear, was a little boy doing a piano solo... for a LONG time, despite not knowing how to play the piano one bit. Months later, people still talk about that performance with a smile.

My wife thought I should go to one and do a reading of my writing. My books have broad sections of "NSFW" sections... not TOO bad, but more than the young ones need to hear. So, they were out. It's also hard to read a section from a novel.. especially a sci-fi novel, without leaving people in the dark, feeling the need to explain a lot. My wife brought up a little non-ficiton bit I did about THE DEMON RAMP.
And I thought, "Hey, that'd be perfect!" But on the day in question, I re-read it at home, and realized it was in need of some polishing up. So that night I skipped getting in the front, promising I'd have something for next month. I had fun enough, heard an amazing pianist, and saw my 3 year old dancing her heart out on a pew, while holding hands with her mommy. That kid's got moves.

At some point, I got it in my head to do something with the piano next month. I told Carolyn. She asked if I needed anything. I think she might have been hinting at some accompaniment, but I told her no.

The thursday prior to my performance, my wife leaked the details of it to god squad, but of them, only Henry was able to make it to the event.

We were late that night, due to nosebleeds and train crossings, but were told we didn't miss a ton. Carolyn was playing. she soon relinquished the stage to a band I'd not seen around before. They were pretty decent. As they played, Carolyn told me I'd be on after them. "You're just going to be playing piano?"
"I could use a mic, too."
"Oh, you're singing?"
Not answering, I asked "Can you GET a mic down by the piano?"
"Oh sure! No problem."

My wife rolled her eyes, having just tuned into the conversation. I aim to get her to do that as often as I can.

When it was my turn, I wheeled up to the gradually aging standing piano. The bench was moved out of the way, and the mic set up. Since my injury, I can't use the pedals anymore, but that would affect me no more than the fact that my wheelchair raised my knees just a BIT too high to get under the keyboard.

Note- the dialogue ahead is 'as of best memory' and streamlined to counter any rambling I did due to hyperness.

I tested the mic volume, and got a little chatty. "I think anyone here that considers themselves musical in any way can trace it back to some kind of family seed, probably a parent, yes?" A few hands went up, most notably from the singer in the previous band, whose dad had been the drummer.

"Well, when I was planning on doing this, I was going to talk about my dad a little, but when I realized this was going to happen on father's day, well, badabing."

I turned myself towards the piano and rolled up my sleeves. I turned back to the people. "My dad was very musical. Piano, guitar, sax, trumpet, he dabbled in a ton of things. He did the most with the guitar, I think. I remember being like five or six, and curling up in his lap. He'd put the guitar over my head, and I'd ask to hear the lowest note. He taught me all about resonance, and frequency, and I loved to hear the low notes up close, and feel them fade away."

I turned half way to the piano, but then back. "Of course, we didn't always have a piano. we moved a lot, and pianos are expensive to move, especially with the recession coming down on the world."

"We sold the sax, too. Heck, my mom didn't like it a lot. It was unavoidably loud, and resulted in 'mush mouth' from playing. She insisted on a kiss BEFORE, not after playing. But now and then... now and then we'd get our hands on a piano." I turned to the piano, and rested my fingers on the keys. "He didn't play all that well, and heck, I'm sure not going to come close to that fella last month who blew us all away."

I forgot a little joke I planned to add here, I wanted to say at this point "Well, my dad's no longer with us.... He went to Maui last week. He's coming back on tuesday." It's true. Back tomorrow. But, I missed that part.

I DID continue solemnly with "He wasn't so fast, but he liked his jazz slow anyway." I turned away from the piano and said to everyone. "It kinda makes me wish I'd learned to play SOMEthing!" I rolled away from the piano, down the aisle, watching the people's faces as they realized one by one that I had never intended on playing a note.

Kitty litter, and feeling young again. Repeatedly. Repeatedly..

2010-06-09T20:03:00.000-07:00

In my weekly household garbage patrol, I stopped for the most glamourous task. Armed with a rubber glove, I pulled off the plastic dome that protects us throughout the week from foul feline evidences.

Note: these roll-over 'auto' clean kitty litter boxes... (That's the exact model. The litter box, not the cat.) Don't work. Well, they do... barely. We keep it just because it gives Leela a little privacy. But changing to the clumping-style litter was a good move. A brave hand protected by latex makes short work of it all.

I was about half way done my work in the far corner of the bathroom, when I hear little footsteps behind me, followed by the 'clunk' of wood. I looked behind me; Caitlin was already gone. One of her little wooden chairs I'd painted had appeared.

I turned back to the litter box. Behind me, she reappeared with her other little chair. Then her little dolly highchair. Then three stuffed toys:

Bert, (as in "& Ernie"), which had been mine at her age. In the last 3 decades, Bert had lost all his clothing, and his hair. Baldness hadn't shaken his confidence however, still getting through life his his confident, scrutinizing scowl. Without eyebrows.

Bert had been renamed of late. Caitlin has fallen for a TV show "UmiZoomi". There's no toys relating to this show that I've seen, but she doesn't need them. She just delegated the roles of the main characters to existing toys. Bert was now "Geo", a little blue-clothed fellow with geometric powers who can build anything with his shapes.

The second member of team UmiZoomi was being played by a little pink stuffed bear, which once was named "Berry", and has gone through a few names since then. It was now "Millie", a pink-dressed sister to Geo, whose primary ability is 'pattern power'. Her dress changes to a pattern she needs, then can apply that pattern in various ways. Her secondary power is to extend her pigtails to swing on, or to form rulers. Look out spiderman.

The third and final member was being played by a... an anteater. (Do you remember my anteater story? Anyway, this anteater gets to play the role of "Bot", a creatively named green robot, whose main ability is... a TV screen on his chest. Which can show anything. In the exotic examples of what he can show, he cites a skyscraper, a taxi cab, and a traffic light. Yay? What happens when Geo hit puberty? How many traffic lights will he be asking Bot to show, huh? anyway, Bot also can act as a storage container, his hands turn into handy little food processors, and yada yada.

You wanna watch some? Are you sure? I've seen a lot. A lot.

UmiZoomi 2025: Bot shows porn, and turns his hands into cityscape leveling maser cannons, while Geo builds nukes, and Millie uses her pattern powers to supply camo, while she swings around like spiderman. Umizoomie 2280? :

Children's TV. Children's TV never changes.

No, well, we're still in 2010, and Caitlin declares the purpose of this Umi-filled gathering as she brings in a box, covered with a little brown silk cloth. "We throw you PARTY, Daddy! Surprise party! Your birthday!"

Well, OK, My birthday is a couple months away, but she recently had her own birthday party, and evidently liked it. Seemingly having gotten over her globapobia, she inflated three imaginary balloons, and set them to rise to the ceiling. I guess she breathes out helium.

She declared the box to be a 'birthday' (cake) and the silk cloth on top to be chocolate icing. I had to blow out the (pre)'tend' candle. Despite being the birthday boy, SHE got the first piece. Me next, then Geo, Millie, and Bot. Then presents. I received imaginary Dora bouncing balls (like a pair she got on her own birthday), a Simpsons driving video game, and a Simpsons game based in space. I have to pretend to play them both. I asked her how old I was. I was informed that I was 'three old'.

Ready for my release from the bathroom, I caught holy heck for trying to move a chair out of the way. It was now time for Caitlin's party. She was also 'three old'. (again). We went through the whole thing again, down the the same three presents.

She was being very cute about the whole thing. I told her, "Sometime you just need to be hugged." Too busy with party arrangements to stop for a hug, she replied, "And sometimes I don't!"

As I feared, Bot, Millie and Geo all needed a party. Thankfully, she threw them one party for all three of them. They were 'three old' as well, by the way. As I type this, she is being tucked in alongside Bot and Geo. Millie couldn't be found. We decided she was out camping.

In other news: Claudia Black. Sorry. I must stop doing that. That is all.

'Echoes of Erebus' editing copies landed today!

2010-06-09T19:49:00.001-07:00

They're purdy. And a little heavier than I thought. I knew they'd have to be, with 60 pages more than Lifehack, but I didn't expect to notice the weight so much when I lifted one out of the box.

The editors working from digital copies have already sent me a few things they thought needed tweaking, so these paper editing copies are a little out of date. But just a little.

Working on the image files, printing drafts of the cover out on ye olde inkjet.. it give you an idea of how it's going to look.. but holding the near-finished, glossy, story filled weight in your hand is decidedly different.

Did I mention 'purdy'?

Prisoner of Gravity, Mark Askwith and being hit by a firehose in Pitt

2010-06-09T11:21:00.000-07:00

Recently getting into Doctor Who, after having given it up when I was a wee one, I'm now leisurely catching up on what I've missed in the last few decades. After the new episode, "Amy's Choice", I had some theories that I wanted to share with the station I see DW on, "Space: The imagination station". For any non-canucks that read this, it's the Canadian answer to the Sci-fi channel.

Oops. "SyFy", sorry. Gurk. What a name. "SyFy". I can get that on my Wii, right?

At any rate, I sent off my theory with the glimmering hope that it might get mentioned on the next "Inner Space", a half hour program produced by the station that talks about the preceding show (They follow a handful of the biggest shows).

Well, later that very day, I get an email from Mark Askwith. "Askwith, Askwith.. why do I know that name?" A googling later, I found that among other things, he produced a little show called "Prisoners of Gravity" starring Rick Green, who discussed and interviewed people relating to sci-fi and comics. The show was set in space. COMMANDER Rick chose to depart Earth due to ... well... you live here, pick a handful of reasons.

As it happened, Mark Askwith is not the picture of monlithic execu-producer that we tend to imagine, and we ended up emailing back and forth quite a few times. Coolbeans. I still don't know if my DW theory will show up on the air, but he did seem to agree that they were pretty plausible. I'll just have to tune in after the next new DW episode to watch Inner Space.

The whole exchange left me nostalgically itching to watch some 'Prisoners of Gravity', so.. Youtube to the rescue! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1t7TnnMFl5s The tragically unrelated first 15 seconds or so could have been cut, though it does paint an accurate picture of watching TV in the wee hours, when that banjo starts up for the nature show, and the satellite signal is 'hacked'. The entire opening to the show is great stuff. And hey. Meet Jack Kirby while you're watching that clip.

IN OTHER NEWS- OH YEAH, I GOT HOSED.

Pitt Meadows day. I had been in the parade the last couple years (With Caitlin in my lap, no less), ending up at a table in the fairgrounds. This time, I was just a spectator. Kiddo had issue with the noise of some sections of the parade, but had no problem with the free candy. Yes, Caitlin, take candy from strangers! Overall, she loved the parade. Afterwards, we went to lunch, and she kept asking to go back to the parade.
"It's over, honey!"
"Go back! Go back!"
The the next few days, much like at halloween, we had to convince her that it wasn't happening again today. "We go gym today? Or go parade?"
"No, Honey, the parade is only once a year."
It's still kind of sinking in, I think.

So, we happened to bump into John H. Fair briefly (the ex-head of my writers' guild who stepped down to assistant due to moving) then upon a pack of other friends, almost all of us with a strollers. Oh, if only we could have seen that moment back in highschool..

We meandered to the fairgrounds, and sort of diverged from there, many of us still looking for food, or just having various objectives.

I spent way too much time wheeling on grass.

On the way out, we passed by a regular sight at the PM day fair... a firetruck had its ladder reaching high, with a hose affixed at the top, sprint a cone of water to the cement. I'd never found my way over to it in previous years, but my wife was navigating us, and I was tired, kind of just following along.

In the middle of this fifteen of so metre (yard) wide circle, I'm sure it was a refreshing rain for the warm June day. A kid jumped around in the middle. My wife opted to walk near the outside of the circle, to be cooled by the sea-spay-like mist.

Hark, I was brave, and stupid. I'm sure if one crossed the circle boundary, (the heaviest part of the downpour, a two foot wide boundary around the gentler 'rain') it was easy. The kid in the middle did it to get in.

I didn't need to go into the middle, nor did I want to slow my wife down much. So I took a more or less straight path that ran me in the boundary for about three of four metres.

I had already seen how hard the water was hitting the ground, bouncing back up. I knew I'd feel that. I didn't count on how cold it was. Hypothermia sets in fast. Droplets about the size of ping pong balls pummeled me. I found myself having problems breathing, which made it hard to laugh, as well. Fighting a case of the giggles, and the fact that I couldn't SEE anything, I knew I had to push through. With a frigid warcry, I wheeled forth. (Everyone reading knows I'm in a wheelchair, right?) I heard SOME lady cheering me on. Didn't SOUND like my wife.

Emerging on the other side, warmth quickly returned, and I looked at myself. Strangely, I was somewhat wet. A supervising fireman stood nearby, next to the truck. I informed him that "Hey, hoses spray water!" He nodded. And I got to wheel home dripping all the way.

My cell phone's battery life went from about a week, to about 8 hours thanks to that dousing. I'm lucky I was able to fix my cat-controlling laser, and my watch still works. That was the most spontaneous thing I've done in years.

And I don't like cell phones anyway.

Website renovation, and book supplier hassles.

2010-06-04T20:50:00.000-07:00

Site's prettier now, and laid out smarter. I included 3 sources people might be wise to buy my trade paperback* books from, but...

After spreading the love around for "The Book Depository" due to global free shipping, (DESPITE taking their bleedin' time to put up images to my books, and DESPITE a really crappy royalty rate), my books are mysteriously "Out of stock" there now. How is it said over there? Bollocks? Quite.

Ohhh, with any luck, it is a momentary hiccup. If not, I'll just have to remove them as sources on my page, hm? More money for Amazon then, and better royalties for me. At least Amazon will give free shipping to a US buyer who gets more than one of my books at once.. It's better than nothing.

One-book buyers and non-US buyers may as well skip amazon and go though Createspace, where I get the BEST royalties. Erf. It's always a pain to pay shipping though, isn't it?

Well, for the truly frugal, there's always e-book versions of all my stuff. Assuming you're okay with reading off of a screen.

*2 good sources of e-books are on the page as well, and one source for hardcovers... BUT, I'm investigating an option that could get my retail price for hardcovers closer to $20.. which would be quite nice.

hmm... I see my books are finally carried on Amazon.ca... Amazon finally got that sorted out... .UK, too... this will take a bit more fiddling to get optimal....

Off to the editors!

2010-05-26T18:51:00.000-07:00

Phew. Time to do a little refab to the website, my guild homework, a reworking of an old short story for a public reading, Echoes promo material, a portrait of Sarah Hartford.. and some other stuff.

You know. Time to chill while the editors shred my work.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

I think I'll make a facebook group/club for my books. Why? Why not.

Echoes of Erebus excerpt - small one, and an update

2010-05-14T15:26:00.000-07:00

Gee Mitch, where are your parents, Mitch? Eaten, you say? Intriguing. You even got to see it happen, and hear the screams of your mother as her own blood bubbled up her throat? See? There's a unique experience you can talk about to your school chums. They what? They were eaten too? Oh, some of them were doing the eating. What a diverse group!

-Sarah considering the futility of trying to converse with some people.

I'm at page 98/291 of another editing read before I pass it onto the editing crew. The cover is under some upgrade surgery.. still the same overall idea as the one that I previously posted, just... a bit better.

Echoes of Erebus excerpt - talking with Eidechse

2010-05-03T13:07:00.000-07:00

I just thought I'd give a taste of Sarah's conversations with another A.I. later in the book. This section hints at a BIT of a spoiler, buuuut..... here we go.

Oh, note again that the ":::" denotes that the speech is being done electronically in Sarah's skull.

***************

“:::As we have the time, Sarah, can we discuss 'comedy'?” Eidechse asked.

Bit by bit, Sarah had left the visual range of the base. Far enough that through all standard issue scopes and binoculars when used by optimal human eyes. As such, she had begun walking. The terrain was now almost devoid of vegetation, and the rocks were becoming smaller, and less frequent. They were entering sand territory.

“:::Sure Eid. Anything in particular puzzling you?”
“:::Slapstick.”
“:::Humour by means of violence. Hey, how old are you, Eid? Are you telling me no one's discussed humour with you before?”
“:::Not at any length.” Eid ignored that issue, and went back to what was interesting him. “Why is violence funny?

“:::Well... usually slapstick is fairly harmless. Maybe it roots in humiliation. Having someone else look foolish in order to show the viewer that their own natural foolishness it not uncommon.” Damn it, Eidechse had her talking like him. She had to watch that. She certainly didn't want to have the diction of a robot. “I read... well, Amanda read somewhere that humour is mostly based in surprise. An unexpected action, or thought, well timed.”

“:::Aardvark.” Eidechse said.
“:::Excuse me?”
“:::Was that funny? Aardvark. It has no bearing on anything currently happening, and was well timed in my opinion. Did that make it funny?”
Sarah walked along. Aardvark. Aardvark. “:::Maybe a little. Kind of. Not so much. Maybe some relevance to the situation is needed. Wit, sarcasm, irony.”

Eidechse thought for a moment. “:::I wish we had some sand.”
“:::Ah. Sarcasm. Not bad. Tone of voice might have helped that a bit. A human-like tone, maybe exaggerated a little.”
Sounding like a cartoon vampire more than anything, Eidechse called out, “:::I wish we had some sand!!”

That did it. Sarah staggered and laughed vocally. “:::Oh, that's not fair!”

“:::I made you laugh,” Eidechse said, “a genuine laugh? Why was it not fair?”

With a leavened mood, Sarah said “:::I don't know, maybe because it's you! You're not known for humour, and your attempt was kind of overdone. A good attempt, but way overdone!”
“:::I do not understand. If it made you laugh, how is it overdone? If I exaggerated less, would it have been funnier?”
“:::Probably not!”
“:::Then why was it overdone?”
“:::Eid, I was expecting a very human-like voice, and when you took my expectation and blew it up past what I what I thought I would hear, it was a surprise! It was what I told you to do, but not at the same time! That was actually great!”

“I do not understand.”

*******************
A chapter or two later:

“:::How you doing in there, Eid?”
“:::I've been watching movies. I have a question.”
“:::Of course you do. Just one, huh? Fire away.”

“:::Why did people think that crossing two 'streams' of protons would instantaneously stop all life and explode every molecule in a body at the speed of light?”

Sarah coughed. “:::What the hell have you been watching? Is it fact or fiction?”
“:::Fiction. I am still working through the comedy collection.”
“:::Well, that answers your question, Eid. No one actually thought that.”

There was a pause. For Eidechse, it was a very long pause. “:::Are people aware that movies are lying to them, on purpose?”
With a smile, Sarah replied with serenity. “:::Yes, they even pay to be lied to.”
“:::I do not understand.”

I'm not that old yet!! Keep the archaologists away from me and my pen for a while. Also- 'Echeoes of Erebus' excerpt.

2010-04-29T13:16:00.000-07:00

I contributed to an article about annoyances with loud TV ads, and in my submission, I referred to myself as a "Cranky old man in training". Because of this, I might sound like an old man. Hey, just an Old man In training! I have the cranky pretty much nailed down, but I'm only a third of a century old! I need to be about twice as old before I legally qualify as 'old'.

It's not a big deal, I guess. When I'm rich and famous, it will just be a bit of amusing trivia for the entertainment TV when they do stories on me, and my vast harem. Archaeologists will be confounded at the inconsistency, then move on to examining how the ink I used to sign books changed when my OFFICIAL SIGNING PEN runs out of ink.

This is a really darn good pen for a disposable mind you. It's been chugging for years. I only use it for signing though. Why have I declared such a pen? Just to give archaeologists something to talk about.

Time for another Echoes of Erebus excerpt- roll the tape! (for the record, the first editing pass is half done)

---

“:::Yeah, well... I still don't know that Doug has smartened up at all. A broken wrist doesn't grow more brain cells. In fact, screw the whole job thing. First, I want to leave Doug a message.”
“:::W- what kind of message?” Jon asked.
“:::Nothing harmful. Maybe a short note carved in his front door. I don't know, I'll think of something on the way.”

Sarah changed direction. She didn't dare use her transit pass. They probably had tracking data on them, and the stations had a ton of cameras. Her hair and clothes were different, but her face was still the same.

At least for now. That was something definitely worth thinking about.

Walking past a bank machine, she grabbed a deposit slip and chained pen, and began jotting down a note.
“:::Sarah, you realize the bank machine has a camera staring at you right now.”
“:::Aw, damn. I guess it's kind of inescapable. The rural option is starting to sound better and better. I'll leave Doug's note, then we're off to the hills, I guess.”

Dear Douglas Villa,

I do hope you're healing well. I just wanted to say hi, and that yes, I am watching over Dan, and all her friends. Please play nice. Repeated breakage of the same bones can have long term effects.

“:::Alright, how should I sign it?”
“:::How about FISH GIRL!”
“:::Yeah, no.”

She simply signed it 'Sarah', put the pen back in its little cubby, and continued on her way.
“:::No Fish Girl?” Jon asked.
“:::No Fish Girl.”
“:::How about 'The Defender of the Sea!'”
“:::No. It's done, moving on.”
“:::How about 'The Holy Mackerel?”
“:::Am I going to have to send you to your room?”
Jon rallied his whiniest remorseful voice. “:::I'll be good.”

Editing of Echoes of Erebus is underway....!

2010-04-25T17:15:00.000-07:00

Writing the first draft of Echoes of Erebus was fun. READING IT (first editing pass) at a more "readerly" pace is a blast. I get to see the events unfold in 'real time'. It's a fun story. Y'all gonna love it.

Happily, I'm nicely on pace for release in time for this October's VCON (Vancouver sci fi convention)... DESPITE not rushing. If you count the 2d edition of Lifehack that came out 3 years ago, this October will mark a 'hat-trick' of releases at VCON.

My volunteer editing team has grown, from 4 on Watching Yute, to 7, one of which is the blessedly brutal Julie Anne Dawson. I didn't agree with all of the points she made about Watching Yute... some I did, some I didn't, some I sat some0hwere in the middle on after much deliberation.

Oh, also, one of the new editors, my cousin, Jacqueline 'Jackie' Shaben has kind of become a model for the cover. Her hand did, anyway. The outline of her hand. Glam? Youbetcha.

Any way, my plan is to finish the 2nd half of my first editing pass, tweak the start and the epilogue, do another editing pass, then hand if off to the editors while I finalize the cover. Simple, yes? Yes.

People have been asking for another excerpt, and as I've been doing this editing pass, I've been keeping my eyes out for an candidate. Soon. -ish.

Echoes of Erebus - light at the end. Of the first draft...

2010-04-15T02:57:00.000-07:00

Quttin time. I reached my target for today of 5 pages. (being a lower target than yesterday's 10 due to other things that needed to be done)

I'm solid into the mop-up/epilogue section now. I'm at 225 pages right now, and expect another 10 to reach the end, I guess. When page breaks and other formatting are put in, I'll probably be around the size of Watching Yute, which finalized at 256.

Man, 3 am gets pretty hot with a laptop on your chest and a cuddly cat around your ankles. I could write a little more, but I think I'll chill a bit, pass out and wake up fresh to attack tomorrow's target. I'd be happy with 7, but I'm hoping for ten. Or the end of the story, whichever comes first.

I worked in another cameo...! A logical one too, right near the end.. not some "LOL HI! I'M FROM A PREVIOUS BOOK, HI HI HI, OK THX BAI!"

Ok. Thx. Gnite.

Echoes of Erebus first draft nearing completion

2010-04-12T08:32:00.000-07:00

I'm roughly forty pages away, and with no toddler around in the next week or so, I have a lot of opportunity to do it. I'm not saying it WILL be done in the next week, but it's very possible.

I have recently threatened to drop Sarah 17 stories, and chop her roughly in half. I'm not sure how she'd deal with those situations, and neither is she. Thankfully she managed to think her way out of both threats in fun ways. Right now I have her deep underground. She just dealt with a boobytrap and some Erebus-grade opponents,all while struggling with visibility issues. Light amplification won't help much when there's no light to amplify.

An 'Erebus-grade' creation comes in two varieties depending on the mood of the creator at the time. Effective, or 'unique'. Those two categorizations sometimes overlap, but an effective design will be re-used, making the creature much less unique. Case in point being the common zombie. Sure, you can do artistic things WITH zombies, but this often reduces their effectiveness.

The cover I posted last time has been changed... at least there's another draft in the mix now. Same general idea, but somewhat darker blues.

In other news, I ran into a review of Lifehack that I wasn't aware of before. It was pretty darn complimentary, and illustrates how I need to stop chasing after reviewers who I know to be tough as nails, and let some gentler readers have a crack at it now and then.

I've also been interviewed for another website, thought I'm not sure when it will be posted. You can bet I'll pop the link up when it happens!

I've gotten 'clearance' to do a signing event in a local coffee shop. I just need to pick my saturday, do a little promo work, and it'll be done. The manager was quite open to the idea... it makes me think I should try some other coffee shops, and do these kinds of things until I need to reorder for my personal stock.

In other other news, I just had a sneezing fit so violent, I now smell blood.
In other other other news, my cat is going bat-poopie insane, and just clobbered herself by running into a doorframe at mach 47.

Echoes of Erebus civer draft (and misc news)

2010-03-19T16:41:00.001-07:00

Here it is, bask and enjoy. Breakdown after the images....

That's our lass Sarah. She doesn't actually have cable plugs, or visible circuitry on her arm, but hey. Metaphor. Cheap flashy metaphor. The one cable with the loose plug does loop around her arm and end with a bleeding fishing hook. For those that haven't been paying attention, or haven't skipped to the 2nd image, yes, Sarah is made out of fish. She does not do any fishing herself, nor draw much in the way of blood. In the lower left we see a bit of my 'mascot nanite'. We'll talk about him in a bit.

The full wrap for the cover. Here we see more of mascot nanite.. he is positioned so that the 3 books, when set together, will make him in whole on your bookshelf. Whee! I'm witty! No, but moving on....

New author photo.. might replace it again. Mildly modified author blurb, and up top, well.. click the pic if you have trouble reading that. I left a lot of 'white space'... hm. We'll see.

As for the writing itself, I'm on quite a binge. This week has been compromised by a lot of random stuff going on, but I had been getting 2o pages a week on the first draft for 3? weeks in a row. This week might be more like 15.. which I hope doesn't mess up my general momentum. (or count). Yeah, 20 pages a week might seem like a lot to anyone who's tried it, and... it is. What I end up with will need a lot of work, but this phase is the most stressful, I think.
Current pagecount, (with no chapter breaks and such put in) 158. I'm hoping the final will be close to Watching Yute's 256, but we'll see.

I've been burning the midnight oil a lot in this past month, staying up til 1 am, (or later.. once or twice to 3 am) which makes for a lonnnnnng next day when Caitlin gets me up at around 7.

I gots a seekrit:

New Echoes of Erebus excerpt - a bit long for an excerpt, but read it, dangit!

2010-02-26T14:21:00.000-08:00

Here's a freshly written, and not yet edited chunk of Echoes of Erebus. This excerpt happens to cross the 100 page mark, and is a step further into the ugly gritty half of the story.

For the record, earning it's place onto the unofficial soundtrack was Marilyn Manon's 'Beautiful People' which I was listening to when I wrote most of this scene. Manson's not so much my thing, generally, but the MP3 popped up randomly, and the sound seemed to fit the mood of the scene.. not the lyrics mind you.

-----------
He stood in a dimly lit concrete stairwell. The small space he stood in now connected to an extruded metal staircase. After the polished posh gym areas, it felt like he had stepped into an alternate reality. Only the muted sound of those weights hitting down rhythmically reminded him otherwise.
Bam. Bam. Bam.

In front of him a staircase of dark extruded metal reached downwards. This was the kind of thing he was looking for. He slumped to the floor, to sit and steady his nerves.

Breathe. Think of something relaxing. Like Brianna, and her magnificent qualities. On a beach. A nude beach. Doing yoga. Breathe. Greene took out his little work terminal, and made sure he still had a signal out. It reassured him again that he was not in another world. The sound of the weights were becoming less and less reassuring, sounding more and more like the heartbeat of something massive and inhuman.

Push that bit of imagination aside. Call back Brianna's yoga. Everything's fine. Everything's fine. You've just entered a dungeon looking for huge monsters tearing each other apart, that's all.
Thoughts of the nanite-enhanced pit fights forced their way into his head. His breathing became tight. He needed some water, and had none.

Get up. Get up and dust the tux off. Greene took a deep breath and took his first step down those stairs. That wasn't so hard. They made more noise than he wanted. Blame the hard leather soles. Step softly. No rush.
Tap, tap, tap down the stairs. When the sound of the weights in the gym stopped, he was grateful. At first. He was left with only his own sounds and their cold little echoes. He strained to hear the music form the gym, but not a note could reach him.

He considered playing some music softly from his terminal, but stealth was more important. Maybe if he had earphones. No, hearing things around him was equally as important.
That thought struck an extra chord of paranoia. He stopped, listening for anything.
Anything.
Please?

Even a growl would at least give him an excuse to run screaming out of the hotel and face the chastising of Mr. Book. How did Greene get himself into this? Why didn't he bring a gun, or a platoon?
Careful with each step, not to slip nor make a sound, he was soon at the door of basement two. Curiosity would not get the better of him. Opening that door could only serve to ruin his stealth. Onward. Down. Again staring down a set of extruded dark metal stairs.

The concrete walls were damper and colder as he went down, moisture seeping upwards from the ground. At the last step, he stood on a glistening concrete floor. Greene looked up though the stairwells, up towards the door that led to the shiny world of the buxom Brianna. Knowing such beauty up there in the light, she attained the title of 'angel' in Greene's mind. As he stood at the door to the third layer of this concrete purgatory, he jokingly whispered a little prayer to Brianna.

Brianna, O, goddess of the pool, bounty be thine chest. Guard me as I trespass, as I forgive those who sent me here.

Alright, stop stalling.
He turned the knob as quietly as he could, and opened the door enough to peek. Inside was about as hospitable as the stairwell, continuing the theme of damp concrete, but now with masses of pipes streaming along the ceiling.
Two directions led from the door. One to the left, which he couldn't see much of due to the door, and one straight ahead. Roughly fifty meters, on the left side of the passage, stood a man in front of a door. He stood facing away from the door, staring at the wall across the passage. His arms were crossed across his large physique, and he did not move.

He was not wearing a tuxedo. Nor gym wear. This was notably urban apparel. High end stuff, but not in great shape. It looked like he had been sleeping in them, and they were not clean. Given what he was here to find, it was likely smears of blood. His jacket was zipped up high, to right under his nose. His eyes were hidden under broad, dark sunglasses.

Greene didn't feel much feel like talking to the man. The left path would do for now. He stepped out of the doorway, keeping an eye on the large man all the while. Still no movement. Green headed down the left passage. Whatever the goon was guarding was now to Green's right, though the wall. He got some distance from the corner and pulled out his little terminal.

It still had a signal, barely. He took readings for any radio frequencies in the area. Anything. Yes, yes, there it was. This must be the signal type that the pit-fighters were run on.
It was deeply encoded, and was doubtlessly just commands that would mean nothing to Greene, but the pattern was unmistakably the same as those that Jonathan Coll and Erebus had used in Autar and Meston. Was the government aware of this? They must be, after all those pit fight raids.

Greene had to report this. He attached his readings to a message, and typed in a short note to Mr. Book, and transmitted.

Oops.

That scream, that war cry. It was like the 'demon of Densfarn' he had seen taken into custody. In the cement underground, the sound reverberated and rebounded towards him, and hit him so hard he nearly dropped to the floor. He had to get out of there, now.

Running to the door, he could hear footsteps coming from the other passage. He had to race to get to the door first. A quick glance revealed that is was the guard. With an open jacket, he was just like the demon. Lower jaw split down the middle, body ripped open and hollow, with ribs sticking out like horns. The sunglasses were gone now as well, showing its raging yet lifeless eyes.

Greene slammed the door behind him, and headed up the stairs, eyes upwards to the land of his angel. He heard the door open forcefully behind him,

The hard leather sole of his shoe slipped on the third metal step, sending his face against another step. It hit with an ugly crack, shaking loose tears, blood, and his upper jaw.

Before the pain caught up with him, bloodied hands wrapped around his torso. With a firm embrace, Greene saw the demon's ribs burst out between his own, before the three-sided jaw wrapped around his head from behind. The two sides of the demon's lower jaw ripped at the sides of Greene's face.

The pain found him. It was blinding. Almost a welcome distraction to the monster ripping him apart. There was nothing but the pain. More screams of demons came from behind him.

Greene had no scream. There was no ability to scream with shredded lungs. The split moment seemed to gave him an hour or pain. It was incredible. Almost fascinating.

There was nothing but pain.

And the pain began to fade. Fading. Greene knew, and welcomed it. The pain was gone, the world was dark, and Greene was gone from it.

"Soundtracks" to my books' "movies".

2010-02-21T01:27:00.001-08:00

Ok, pure silliness here, but before I did the first signing for Lifehack, I collected a list of music that drove me during the writing, and fit the mood for several scenes. Lifehack had a lot of 80s and early 90s. Mostly rock, some pop. I played them in the background at the signing.

Watching Yute drew a lot more from 60s/70s rock. One scene in particular was 'written' in a dream where it played out over and over in slow motion to the tune of the Doors' "House of the Rising Sun". It turned out to be a huge turning point in the story. Frig, I'm listening to it right now, and it still chokes me up.. mainly because of the link in my head to that scene.
The ending of the movie has to quietly begin Rammstein's "Ohne Dich", as the camera pans out over the desert before fading to black and the credits.

This has me wondering what the soundtrack of Echoes of Erebus will be... I've been listening to stuff all over the spectrum, from more Rammstein, to Feist.

And as long as I'm being silly, what about casting actors? I'll have to ponder that one...

Ah, also, Echoes of Erebus is getting very close to the 100 page mark. I hope to end around the same range as Yute, which was 256. That 100 I have right now probably translates to a bit higher if I added page breaks for new chapters and whatnot. It'd be nice to have it ready for the next VCON (Vancouver sci-fi convention) but like Watching Yute, I will NOT rush it.

If anyone who's read Lifehack and/or Watching Yute has any casting/soundtrack ideas, let me know...! If you want some visual clues as to how I see them, there's always my anime art gallery... though I don't imagine the books in an anime style... that's just the gear my drawing was stuck in at the time. Someday after Echoes of Erebus is done, I'll have to attack my realism.

Turnabout is fair play

2010-02-20T01:41:00.000-08:00

Friday morning, Caitlin wanted up on the bathroom counter. Yeah, that's pretty normal, she wanted to to brush her teeth. Her toddler toothpaste is nummy, and has a picture of winnie the pooh on the tube.

Not patient enough for me to comply with (or predict) her plan, she stepped up onto my feet/wheelchair foot plate, and climbed onto my lap as a stepping stone to the counter. Silly monkey.

As is typical, she examined the little rack of toothbrushes, pointing out who owned which. Hers is hard to mistake, the handle being shaped like one of Barbie's buddies, which makes it a royal pain to fit in the rack. She handed me mine, and started looking around for my toothpaste. Unsatisfied with the items on the counter, she kicked her heels against the drawer below her. "Da-ee, open!" Fine fine, move your lil feet. In the category of grown up toothpaste, we have 2 tubes, a white/lighter coloured tube meant for daytime and morning, and a black/darker coloured tube for bedtime.

I yank out the white one, as it was on top. "No! That mummee toothpaste!" Le sigh. I pull out the one that matches my wardrobe, and she's satisfied. I put it and my brush down on the counter, and pick up her set. "no, da-eee!" Fine. An extra brushing won't kill me.

I pick up my brush and play around, pretending to use the wrong end, or hold it at funny angles, earning amused "nooooo"s from her. She got tired of that eventually, and told me "toothpaste, da-ee." Alright, I put some t- NOPE, whoops, she has to do it. (with help) Thinking I was ready to brush, I brought the toothbrush up towards my mouth, intending to hold it in my mouth while I 'arm' her toothbrush for her.

Instead, she snatched my toothbrush from me, and leaned forward with a toothy grin. Well frig, she wanted to brush my teeth for me, like I do with her. I bore my teeth, and moved my head a bit to not get stabbed in the cheek. The lil squirt smiled like crazy, then stopped, and opened her mouth, cuing me to open wide. She actually did a pretty good job getting the back and such. I closed my mouth, and moved the brush in her hand, playing around.

I was promptly reprimanded. "No, da-ee." Oy. Fine. When exactly did I sign up to be a dolly? Roughly two and a half years ago, I guess.

Joss Wheadon needs to give me $1,000,000.oo

2010-02-19T01:03:00.000-08:00

I know he's not looking for submissions, but I think he'll throw a million bucks at me for the chance to turn my novels into movies. I could possibly endure seeing his skills applied to my stories. The money will help me endure. He should get on EBAY ASAP, since it's only a week long auction:

http://cgi.ebay.ca/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=180471368349&ssPageName=ADME:L:LCA:CA:1123

There's also info there where people can get the ebooks free for the next month or so, but that's secondary.

They have a lot of stuff Joss likes. Strong female leads, sci fi, drama, action, humour, strong female romantic interests for the strong female leads, cookies. Joss likes cookies, doesn't he? If only I could get this info into his hands. Alternatively, Ms. Dushku should know that I have her underwear. I don't, but it might get her over here.

Updated my wiki! .. and bits of the site.

2010-02-14T15:11:00.000-08:00

I just wrote "Echoes of Erebus" into my little wiki, which previously only covered Lifehack and Watching Yute. Now people can browse basic character descriptions/relations and locations and such for the book-in-progress at my wiki. I can get really into wikis, so I thought I'd set one up. If ya think it needs something, let me know...! Keep in mind, I avoid spoilers on there.

And no, you can't edit it, sorry. :P

I also updated my main website a bit, Most notably, I added excerpts in the Echoes of Erebus section- mainly the ones I've posted in this blog already.

Short entry this time! Shucks! Off to keep chipping away at the new book....!

Got interviewd! And to celebrate, have an Echoes excerpt too...!

2010-02-11T13:58:00.000-08:00

Clinton Foster's 'Interviews and Projects' blog has just posted a spot about Watching Yute. I kind of end up on my gay-rights soapbox a little bit, but worse things could happen. All in all, it's good stuff. (in the event you're reading this long after my interview has sunk into the archives, you can probably find it directly by this link.) Thanks again Clinton! I know there's a reason you invented the internet... huh? Different guy? Okay. His own main site is here by the way.

Ah, I've been promising a new excerpt for a while, and I keep procrastinating. Here's the freshest stuff... it's not finalized by any means, and has had limited proof reading, but it does show a facet of "Echoes of Erebus" that I haven't really shown before. To set it up, our hero Sarah dreams from time to time when she has nothing else to do. It becomes clear soon that in her dreams she is 'Amanda', living out events during Erebus' attacks on the city of Meston....

-------

Sarah found herself again dreaming that she was this 'Amanda'. She was with a group of a dozen or so people, wandering down a deserted street. A nearby discarded newspaper reminded her that she was in the city of Meston.

Some of the people in the group were wounded. Two were kids. A few could be seen carrying weapons. A couple rifles, a bat, a shovel. Everyone walked on cautiously, looking around now and then.
No one spoke, everyone listened. An unidentified sound caused the group to stop and listen. “What is it?” asked the younger child, a boy. He was shushed quickly by the girl standing next to him. Everyone kept listening.

Sarah looked down and saw blood on her hands. Was she injured, or was it someone else's blood? She felt pain. Her hands were scraped. She had fallen at some point.

The sound happened again. A dull but sharp sound. “It's one of those cannon things again.” said a man at the front of the group. “Maybe it means they're trying to send in more evacuation craft. Keep one eye on the sky, folks. If we spot a chopper, or one of those airlimbs coming in, we might be able to hustle over to get a ride.”

“Sure,” Sarah said, “If they don't get shot down by those things first. They'd be nuts to try that again.” Sarah didn't mean to say that, Amanda was in control of this dream. Sarah was just a passenger. Sarah didn't have much of an idea what she was talking about, but it didn't sound that optimistic. “Let's just keep going for now, alright?” A few people in the group murmured in the affirmative, and they got underway.

After a block or so, they came to a blood spill that reached across the entire street. They stopped at the edge of it, each silently considering having to walk across it. It looked to go on for about half a block.
“What the hell happened here?” someone asked quietly.
A woman in the group spoke up with a bit more of a tactical mindset. “Is it even safe to cross? I mean, if the zombies are nanite-driven like the Autar ones were, who's to say that this blood isn't infectious? Or even some kind of trap? It might infect us as soon as we step on it!”

The older of the two kids, a girl roughly twelve years old wandered away from the 'pond', muttering “This isn't happening, this isn't happening. I'm going to wake up now, alright? Someone wake me up now, please!”
That got the attention of the group. Many also looked to the younger child. A boy about eight years old. He was standing, shaking, staring out across the blood pond with wide eyes.

Amanda picked up the boy. “Oh to heck with this. We're not hauling these kids across this. It's too much.”
One of the men with a rifle nodded. “It's not like we were headed for anywhere specific. If we took a left back there, it's still roughly the same distance out of the city.” Amanda hadn't been waiting for his approval, nor the opinions of any of the others. She had already begun carrying the boy in the direction he suggested. The girl was the first to follow and the others were not far behind.

The boy clung to Amanda tightly as they walked, but he was still trembling. “What's your name, kiddo?” Amanda asked softly. He wasn't answering. “Hey little man, can you tell me your name?”
The girl walking beside them answered. “His name is Mitch.”
Mitch was getting heavy, but he still trembled enough that Amanda didn't feel like asking him to walk. “Hi, Mitch. Is this your sister here? She was kind enough to tell me your name, can you introduce me to her?”

“Cathy.” Mitch said quietly. Amanda wanted to draw more conversation out of Mitch, but every topic she could think of probably led to the horrible things going on. Gee Mitch, where are your parents, Mitch? Eaten, you say? Intriguing. You even got to see it happen, and hear the screams of your mother as her own blood bubbled up her throat? See? There's a unique experience you can talk about to your school chums. They what? They were eaten too? Oh, some of them were doing the eating. What a diverse group!

Amanda kept her mouth shut and just gave Mitch an extra squeeze. She wanted to give Cathy a squeeze too, but her arms were full with Mitch. Instead, she looked over to Cathy with a sympathetic forced smile. Cathy returned a similar look. It was heartbreaking.

“What the fuck was that?” a man in the group asked. He was pointing down the street, but nothing was there. “It ran across, it looked kinda big!” Amanda and everyone else kept an eye on that street. Something indeed sauntered out from an adjoining street, several blocks ahead.

A horse. With a rider. Maybe. It was too far off to see details, but it walked like a horse, and it was coming their way. It sauntered casually. Another two horses with riders stumbled into view behind him. They were wrestling as if they were dogs playing. The riders didn't fall off somehow, despite the horses falling on their side several times in their playing, often nearly upside down.

The first horseman continued striding forward slowly as the two playful ones were joined by a fourth. The first was close enough to see that the rider's head was little more than a skull. He raised his arms high in proclamation. He lacked hands; the forearms ended in narrow points. A voice came from him, booming so loud as to rattle windows.

“Hail, good travelers!” Despite a deep tone and immense volume, the voice sounded friendly enough. “This apocalypse is brought to you by our new and righteous lord and god, Erebus! Yes, Erebus! For when death isn't enough for you, Erebus will put extra spring in your step and extra human flesh in your mouth! If you get mutilated by only one necromantic god this year, make it Erebus!”

As the lead horseman lowered his arms, the other three ceased their play and began to charge. It was now easier to see that none of them had normal heads. One's head was replaced with a rifle sticking up, one had a roast turkey sitting up as a head, and the last one had half a dozen impaled rats planted in its neck stump.
All four charged with pointed arms held out to their sides, pointing downward at an angle. With that same volume, a scream came out that sounded a lot like that 'demon of Densfarn' that Sarah had seen.

Mitch grabbed onto Amanda even tighter as the group braced for the inevitable.

When good packing materials go bad.

2010-02-05T00:11:00.000-08:00

"Y'know, I kinda hate cauliflower, but this marinate makes it pretty OK. It makes me forget that cauliflower usually tastes like styrofoam that's gone rotten."

"What? How does styrofoam go rotten??"

"By turning into cauliflower."

Yeah, that's about all I have to say. I plan to post another excerpt from 'Echoes of Erebus' soon, but part of the problem is giving away a big spoiler. an even BIGGER problem is posting something that needs a ton of explaining... then again, maybe I can just caulk that effect up to creating some mystery. Maybe I'll post cliff's notes to go with it.

It's not that any one section is all that complex, but there's a layering effect going on. Some rules get set, and the book follows them. Ok, a short tutorial, with minor spoilers:

Sarah isn't human, although she looks it. Her nervous system, brain included, is heavily operated by a fleet of nanites and related techno hooba-jooba.

Something she has in her brain is her 'father', Jason, who lives in her mind as a separate, mostly-independent thought process. Jason wants to help guide his 'daughter' in her new life, so they talk to each other a lot. Still with me? Seeing as they both think inside the same skull, there's no need for any vocalizations. Much like an online chat, they send thoughts at each other. And when this happens in the book, I let you know by modifying the syntax-

":::Hey Jason, I have to talk to you, but the people on the bus don't need to hear it."
":::No kidding. I, on the other hand, really have no choice but to talk to you through this system, because I don't have a mouth. I'm basically just a program in your head."
":::Where's the uninstall button?"
":::Ha freakin' ha, Sarah."

That lame exchange wasn't from the book.. it's just a demonstration. This ":::" syntax won't be totally alien to anyone who's read Watching Yute.

Well, it's late, I'm gonna pass out now. Bug me to get an excerpt up!

Rant against non-lineral story telling.

2010-01-31T01:43:00.000-08:00

1,2,3,7,8,9,3 That's how my daughter counts. Cute? Sure. Informative or useful? Not so much.

Know what hollywood fad cheeses me off, that they SEEM to finally be pretty much done with? Non linear story telling.

Sure, many of them do it simple... start with a massive exciting or interesting scene, then closeup to the protagonist:
"I guess you're wondering how I got in this situation..." Aw man, here we go again.
Rewind 3 weeks, watch from the REAL beginning of the story until you get to the point where the movie started, blah blah. If you can't write an interesting actual starting scene, don't feel the need to jerk me around and pad the movie by 15 min with a replayed sequence. Heck, a lot of books do that too.

CHAPTER 1
EXCITEMENT, PUZZLING EVENTS!! HERO LIGHTS A FUSE ON A BOMB UNDER A GIANT ALIEN CYBER MULE!!!

Chapter 2
50 years earlier: (and you're lucky if they bother telling you that this isn't just a confusing continuation from chapter 1)
"I was a dirt farmer. Most people think that means I farm for stuff that grows in the dirt, but no, i just farm dirt. Ever try to get dirt to grow? I tell ya, it ain't easy."

Shut up, shut up, shut up! I don't care! I was ready to see a giant cyborg donkey blow up! Screw this, skip ahead, skip ahead. Second last chapter? Aww screw it. Where's my playstation controller?

If you wanna get deliberately confusing, you can keep throwing in unannounced flashbacks, or worse, SOMEONE ELSE'S FLASHBACKS, and while you're at it, don't ever show the flashbacks in the order they happened. These kinds of gimmicks just scream "I NEVER HAD A STORY WORTH TELLING TO BEGIN WITH" Why don't you just write a fanfic of Voyager, or some other unoriginal time travel shlep?
It's late, I'm cranky. My household has one member less today, and my cat won't stop farting. Kthx, bai.

They grow up so fast... then go back home to Germany.

2010-01-29T20:51:00.000-08:00

Yes, yet another international student (from Germany) is departing tomorrow, despite attempts to reason with her parents to sell her to us.

Hosting students isn't always easy, but all of em have been a big part of our home while they were here, and most have remained in contact long afterward. Well, alright, not the 'short stay' ones, that stay like 2 or 3 weeks... That's barely enough time to overcome the language barrier, and they tend to become blurry memories in the fog of time.

We WERE supposed to be receiving a new student from China, who was going to stay for a year, but last week we're told she isn't coming to our home now. Why? The student's parents didn't want her to go to a home with any children.

Mrph?? Granted, our 2 and a half year old is a heavy-drinking party monster who will get students into heroin, but... heyyyy, no wait. I stand by my "Mrph??". Someone suggested that maybe they want their daughter to be the sole centre of attention at the host home. Meh. I don't know, maybe they didn't want their daughter to be exposed to experience with a sibling, given China's 'single child' laws. (which are very, very flexible with an allotment of moolah.)

There's some talk of us getting a couple Mexican students as short-stays in March. They would be our first Mexicans. Ironic, since our FIRST students were supposed to be Mexicans before their mother heard another nearby school was better. They could have bussed to it from here, but the mother said no to that... either due to the expense of busing, or the bus experience in Mexico. Hey Mexican parents! In Canada, putting your teenage daughter on a bus ISN'T considered an invitation for kidnapping. Eh... maybe that's just a stereotype.

At any rate, being short term students, we likely won't get to know them worth beans before they have to go. Hopefully we can soon host another long-term student, (Mexican? We haven't had one yet!) so we can learn more about the culture. It's common knowledge that tourism and TV don't compare to talking to a local.

Alas, farewell, German-young-woman-who's-name-is-withheld-for-the-internet, (you pile of pervs!) Your laughter, smile, and talks will be missed sorely by all of us.

New Echoes of Erebus 'clip', Also- yay. vamps.

2010-01-16T01:43:00.000-08:00

Sarah rolled her eyes. “That's dis-”
“:::I am not discussing that kind of imagery with my daughter,” Jason dryly interrupted, “I didn't see it, you didn't see it, moving on.” Such 'art' seemed like a mild offence after the whole zombie-genocide simulation, but Sarah let it slide.

The fourth door stood at the end of the hall. Most of the hall was made from the same wood that most of the bar seemed to be made of, but the wall at the end was solid concrete. The door was steel.
“:::I'm guessing that's probably not the grill's meat freezer.”
Jason scoffed. “:::I'm guessing they store their meat in the sun.”
Sarah reached out for the handle, and pulled it open. It was a door from a freezer, but inside it was lit even dimmer than the rest of the bar. A diffused warmth and mild scent of tobacco and other burnable things seemed to press out towards her. New sounds also found her. Yelling and cheering mostly. Past the door the hallway continued as concrete, and slowly lead downwards.

“:::Pop the strength to max, Sarah.”
“:::Already did.”

====================

Just the rost recent lil bit from Echoes of Erebus. I wrote that about 15 min ago. Pardon the formatting, but the blog ignores indents, so I used a few double returns to break it up. For those unaware, in my books the ":::" denotes that the following statement was done digitally. In this case, (as with much of the book) the ::: conversations are between Sarah and Jason, who lives in Sarah's brain.

As mentioned, there is a bit of zombie-fun in the coming book. Less than in Lifehack, but more than Yute. The creatures in Echoes will be somewhat more memorable I hope- partly due to my own writing experience, and partly because fewer numbers of creatures allows more time to be spent paying attention to each; both in tactics and in imagery. Oh, there will be a few scenes of the huge mobs, but not as many as in Lifehack, and it won't be solved by ordinance. And they're not necessarily the main issue.

Then again, the zombies in Lifehack weren't the main event anyway. Erebus wasn't playing to win. Zombie outbreaks were just his opening volley, a declaration- not of war, but of "Yeah bitches! What ya gonna do about THAT?" until he got ideas that amused him more.

This isn't a huge spoiler, and you might have figured it out by now anyway, so let's make it official oublic knowledge. Yes, 'Jason' above is indeed Erebus, A.K.A Jonathan Coll. Well.. kind of. If you remember Lifehack's events, you might have a better idea.

Alright, it's way too late. I had planned to do a blog entry about aspartame, (summary: aspartame bad, breaks down into nasty stuff like formaldehyde in your body, and can do nasty stuff to you, so ditch the diet pop!)

-and about the movie Daybreakers which I saw last week. (summary: cool vamp ideas, some poignant moments, but marred by moments of especially cheesy gore, 3 pointless 'surprise bat flying at the screen' shots, and a couple gaping plot holes.

In other news, True Blood rocks.... but "Sookie"? WTF kind of name is that?

I think the recent surge in vamp stuff is due to twilight... not because it was good and people want to jump on the bandwagon, but because it was HORRIBLE, and people want to remind the world how vamps are supposed to be done.

Oh, by the way. Claudia Black. (Did I get ya? You know who you are!)

Se7en, No, wait, just Seven. Sorry miss Paltrow

2010-01-10T11:26:00.000-08:00

Before I go off on windows 7, let me tell you about The Day Of Seven.

Seven what? Seven tiny pairs of pants. Seven tiny pairs of panties. (If they're called pairs, and there was 7 of each, maybe I should call it The Day Of Twenty-Eight... but that doesn't have as nice of a ring to it...)

Kiddo's knee deep in potty training. some days she's into it, and runs with a song and a dance to ye potty, whether she's made it in time or not! One day she did it all herself, including wiping herself from a #2!.... badly. Baby wipes also work on walls, FYI. But she tried her best. The listerine on the floor was my bad, although I have others to lay SOME blame on.

The Day Of Seven was not a day of effort on her part, nor enthusiasm. It was a day of denial. "You need to go potty?" I ask many times through the day, if only to put the notion in her head- to help her pay attention to her body a bit. "No." I heard in reply many times on The Day Of Seven. Most of the time, she was right.

A 'yes' would end up in an honest attempt by her on the potty, OCCASIONALLY with results. On The Day Of Seven, she performed admirably in the #2 department. Whether a successful #2, or a false alarm, I praised her efforts. alas, minutes later, she peed her pants. New panties, new pants, and often new socks. (The Day Of Forty Two? Oh my... 42... DON'T PANIC! We have a new washer and dryer!)

Some of these liquid mishaps happened under my care, some under the care of my mother, and the last one was saved for mommy when she got home. By that time, Caitlin and I were barely on speaking terms. We were both equally fed up with changings. I almost put her into a diaper at one point, but I held strong. 'Never fall back' in training once the commitment is made, they say, or you erode what they've learned.

SPEAKING OF ERODING WHAT'S BEEN LEARNED....

Welcome to Windows 7.

My old laptop, which was far from new when it came into my care, had been showing many signs of giving up the ghost. A smallish hard drive that occasionally liked to slide out the side, a CD drive that no longer read CDs (but read DVDs just fine) and a power cord that, by the end, required a finger held in just the right place, at just the right pressure to work. The most recent injury to the cord was right by the plug that goes into the laptop, making a repair difficult at best.

It was time to retire the old girl. We knew it was coming.

So now, I have a new machine. It's not top-end, but it's pretty dandy for what I need, and beats the crap out of the old one. It's been named "Minmay"

Why name a computer after robotech's vacuous, fickle, not-so-loyal, possibly incestuous idol singer? I honestly don't know. It's certainly not the lessons I want my computer to learn. One of the selling points of this machine was ATA drives, which are going out of style, but make installing windows XP much easier... in case I hated wondows 7... I was going to go in with an open mind. Guess what happened?

Yup. It's OK. My new machine has 3gigs of ram, which might help also., but it feels OK. It has a lot of behaviours that I don't like, but after some tweaking, I think I'm just going to have to adapt a bit. Heck, running windows XP, I always tweaked it until it looked and felt like windows 98, so I guess I just have to take a step forward. It's ****ing microsoft. Conform or die, kill me now.

Shush, linux. Linux and I have come to terms with things. My MS alternatives will have to remain in the browser, email and office arenas. (On that topic, check out FireFox, Thunderbird [if you hate outlook] and Openoffice all of em free and awesome.)

Aside from my old laptop, I also still had my old desktop, Moria, (which was SUPPOSED to be named after the ship on Farscape, which I later learnt was actually 'Moya'.)
My Moria is about 7 years old, and of all the machines that have been in this house, only one has exceeded her speed, by 0.1 Ghz. She's a 3 ghz, with every bell and whistle that was available at the time. She cost a lot. It was my one needless indulgence when the settlement from my injury came around. She also had the bulk to my files... baby photos, music, graphical resources... FIFTEEN DVDs later, I have everything I wanted backed up. To put that in other terms, since a single layer writable DVD holds roughly 5 CDs worth of data, that would be about 75 CDs of data. I didn't load ALL of that onto the new laptop... Much of it I only need now and then, so it remains archived. But this frees up Moria to go live with my mother, who was running a pretty sad machine. She now has the fastest under this roof*, even above my new laptop. Moria just didn't fit in my lap very well.
*my playstation 3 runs more cyles by far than anything else in the house, if I wanna be picky.

And since I bring up Moya, in a related story, Claudia Black is awesome.
Despite that she hasn't returned my calls about playing Regan Grier in the Lifehack movie. Speaking of which, it's time for me to leave another message on Joss Wheadon's answering machine.

Uncle Ben and Gay Pride

2009-12-14T15:11:00.000-08:00

Yeah, I never saw Uncle Ben with a lady. 'Confirmed bachelor'? Come on Uncle Ben, you don't have to hide anymore. It's okay!

No wait.. that's not what I was going to talk about. The title is 2 different topics.

From the Food Banks Canada's site, partner program page:
Over the course of the curling season, Uncle Ben’s is pairing up with Team Kevin Martin to support Food Banks Canada. Every time the team wins a curling match, Uncle Ben’s will donate funds to Food Banks Canada. The goal is to raise funds to assist those in need across the country.

Huh? Wait a second. Uncle Ben only cares about those in need when some shmuck wins a game of curling? What kind of douche-baggery is that? What's the point? To hype up CURLING? To get the curling team and Uncle Ben a photo op?

Next year maybe they'll bet a million dollars on the Canucks winning the Stanley cup, with the promise that if they win, the money goes to the United way. Maybe they'll hold a knife to a puppy's throat, and promise to release it if you can win a round-robin tournament of paper-rock-scissors.

Every time a curler loses, this puppy kills a needy person.

In a related story, (related to food banks, not the homicidal nature of puppies) my wife is working with her church to set up a program called 'Open Hands'. It's kind of a foodbank on wheels that plans to focus on a batch of families in need with regular supplies as well as consultation about fixing whatever got them into the tight spot they're in. My wife's a counselor in an outfit that deals with families in trouble all the time, so she has the experience, know how and contacts to get some good stuff moving!

And now for something completely different.

A man with three buttocks. Sorry, couldn't resist. No, I have to be a little serious here. As most people could tell you, I'm all for gay rights. I'll spare you the rant on that, we've all either heard or given it, I think. (although my version of it as delivered by William Shatner is.. Whoops! I was supposed to be being serious, wasn't I?)

Okay. Here it is. Gay pride parades. I have a few friends who go to the one in Vancouver regularly, and when I told one of them that I didn't approve of the parade, I made her jaw drop in shock. "JOE! What?! You? Of all people?!" To be fair, it would have shocked her more if I were gay, but my novels speak quite plainly on my stance on gay people, and how they're... you know... people.

What's my problem then? You've likely at least seen clips on the news of these parades. There's almost always a guy in a tiny g-string running around on roller skates, and other 'shocking' things that aren't so shocking after the bajillionth year. Am I offended? Not really. Would I want my two year old seeing that? Well... she'd be more amused by the roller skating factor than anything.

Why is it that being in a gay pride parade makes it acceptable to run around exposed like that? (The news rarely shows clips of the opening volley of topless lesbian cyclists) If it was any other parade, this kind of display would not go unchallenged. But that's not even really my problem. If 300 straight guys wanna walk down Hastings once a year. Whatever. (on a side note, I attribute much (not all) of the exhibitionism on being young, overly enthusiastic, and having an excuse)

It is BECAUSE I'm rooting for gay rights that I can't stand the pride parades! How does this help gay rights? It gets on the news, and we see 'leather queen' #244572, and it paints the image to some people, (such politicians, my dad, and many many others) that this is what all gay people are really like, and would like to be all the time. The vast majority of gay people are SHOCKINGLY un-shocking! And would like people to know THAT.

I thought that I was thinking innovative thoughts with all that. I really did, and then I find out that it's not new at all. Well of course it isn't new. It's logic. Even last night I saw an episode of "Rick & Steve: The happiest gay couple in the world." A cartoon that has fun with gay society, balancing social commentary with tasteless jokes. Whether it's good or bad for entertainment or gay image is up for debate, I suppose. In this particular episode, the gang went down to San Fran for the BIG pride parade. The following quote is from memory, but anyway:

"Know what I like most about the pride parade?"
"The way it sets back the gay right movement ten years?"

If even a cartoon is summarizing what I thought was an original insight... I guess I should be watching more cartoons.

"Free Tibet!" Tom and Jerry

Site re-tuning. And Lifehack being read by the military...?

2009-12-09T00:23:00.000-08:00

Not much to say today. I have a rant that's been perking for a while now, but I don't have the energy right now. It's past my beddy-bye time.

ozero.ca has just had a bit of reorganizing and graphic replacements done. Much more organized and simple, which isn't a small feat when trying to manage two and a half storefronts for trade paperbacks, (each with thier plusses and minuses, so I want to offer both) one for hardcover and PDF e-books, and another for e-books in a variety of formats... which threatens to make a very muddled front page, but I think I've got it pinned down. I also officially introduced the 3rd book into the site (other than this blog, where it's been mentioned before).

In other news, the e-books are being 'shipped' free to deployed soldiers, mostly towards the middle east. "Operation E-book Drop" has just surpassed 300 contributing authors. OEbD serves MOSTLY U.S. and U.K. troops, but some of out Canucks have caught wind of it. It's all word of mouth, organized by Ed Patterson, who can be found on facebook easily enough if you're a troop having trouble finding stuff for your e-book reader, or an author who wants to throw their hat in the ring. Regardless of your stance on the war as a whole, these boys & girls out there deserve our respect, and I hear most of them like the connection OEbD creates to home.

So yeah.... a fair handful of troops have grabbed Lifehack and Watching Yute now, and I KINDA cringe to think what actual soldiers think of how I handle the military situations that pop up in my book- even if it's a fictional military in a fictional country, in the near future.

In other news....? I have no idea, I need sleep. I'll get to that rant eventually.

The Ant-Hating Ant-eater

2009-12-03T16:32:00.000-08:00

The following is my 'homework', assigned to me by the Writer's guild I meet with monthly. The criteria was a story about an anteater who couldn't stand ants.
(once again, blog format has forced me to use double returns instead of indents. sorry)

“FLEE!” Antonio screamed to the others near the exit of the hill. “The serpent returns!” It had been almost half a moon since the serpent had attacked. Many of Antonio's closest friends had been taken that day. Antwon, Anthony, even dearest Aunty Antonella, among countless others were pressed between the serpent's sticky body and the tunnel walls, only to find themselves helplessly stuck to the serpent as it retreated.

Beyond all the rest, the soul-shredding shriek of his true love Antoinette had haunted him the worst, keeping him awake far more often than even memories the slim, sticky serpent itself. Antoinette had been crushed by a cave-in during the attack, but lived long enough to have her dying body dragged out of the hill by one of the serpent's many strikes.

And now it was back. Antonio was ready for it. The others laughed when he trained for combat, laughed as he taught himself to stand on only four legs, so that he could wield a sharp twig as a weapon. “Come, monster! By Antoinette, I will SLAY you this day!”

***

Ack. That was even worse than the last time, two weeks ago. The little buggers taste like shit, and as insane as it sounded, Herbert would swear that one of the brainless twerps was trying to stab his tongue with a tiny stick or something. Herbert was grateful for that in an way. Even a stick tasted better than any ant.

Putrid little things. A couple months ago, Herbert had found a great source of termites. They had some real flavour! After the big rainstorm, the wood's subtle taste almost marinated them alive. Even 'untreated', the termites were a welcome alternative to those dirt-dwelling little snots.
Unfortunately, the humans wanted to add their own spice to the termites. After wrapping the house in a huge tent, they pumped something into it. It was quite fatal to the termites. Herbert saw this as quite foolish. For one thing, it meant that the termites couldn't make any more termites. And after that, do you want to know how many termites the humans ate?

None.

Not a single one.

Herbert had decided that he should gobble up as many as he could before they were wasted, but upon trying the first one, he found it to be quite inedible. He spent the next two hours dragging his tongue against the dirt, eating grass, anything to get rid of that taste. It was even worse than ants. This was likely why the humans didn't eat of the termites. They should have tried their spice on just a few of the termites before saturating them all with it.
Damn, humans are bloody idiots.

Herbert had, on occasion, been lucky enough to find a dead grasshopper. They're far too quick to catch live of course. They didn't taste all that amazing, but if he could choke it down, it would keep him going for a while without having to go back to an anthill.
Spiders were not an option Herbert liked that much. They usually sat in their webs. Have you ever tried to catch a spider with your tongue while it's in its web?. Don't.

This didn't seem like a life befitting him. His brother was happy sucking dirt for ants, and thought Herbert to be some kind of snob. Look at our bodies! Such a narrow nose, and such a large tail. Sometimes when he ran, Herbert felt like he was a living weapon. Zip! Zip! STAB! Take down an elephant, like a huge arrow!
Oh there's a lovely thought. Dislodging one's head from the side of a dead elephant.

Outcast from the other anteaters, Herbert trodded along aimlessly. Ahead, he spotted something he had never run across before. A farm. Around the side that faced him stood a modest fence. And inside? A group of fellow animals... of some kind. They were not much bigger than Herbert, but were hairless. They had pinkish skin, little twirly tails, and stubby snouts that looked entirely inadequate for eating. He walked up to the fence, and saw that some of them were eating from a trough in the middle of the yard. He called over to one who was standing near the fence.
“Hey. Hey pink thing! What are you?”
It snorted and looked over to Herbert. “I'm a capricorn, what the heck are you?”
“I'm an anteater. Technically. I'm kinda hungry though, would you mind if I came in there and had some of that capricorn food? What's in it?”
The capricorn furrowed his brow. “Corn, and...” he looked over to the trough for a moment, then back to Herbert. “Stuff.”
Stuff. That didn't sound too bad. Herbert fumbled his way between the widest gap in the fence that he could see, and stepped up for a taste. The other capricorns were staring at him, but they didn't seem to particularly mind that he was there. They'd warm up to him. This 'corn-and-stuff' wasn't too bad!

Once Herbert had his fill, he backed off, trying to decide what side of the fence he'd sleep on. Could this be his new home? Could these capricorns accept him as family, or was that just wild optimism?
Just then, he felt a sharp pain. Maybe he had gas, maybe the corn-and-stuff didn't agree with him. Maybe he was allergic. That would be so disappointing. Thankfully, he was not allergic to anything. Unfortunately, he coughed up blood. (and corn). And lots of both. He fell down, rolled onto his side, and as the capricorns looked on with curiosity, Herbert convulsed violently and gagged. His final breath came with one last sputter of blood, bile, and corn coming from both ends.

The capricorns stared silently. They stared at Herbert, they stared at each other, and they stared at the trough.

The silence was broken by a tiny sound from the mess around Herbert. A tiny movement, as a tiny black arm reached up holding a tiny sharp stick. Antonio the ant emerged. Antonio stood in this vast plain of blood, vomit and pig filth, surrounded by 'capricorns'. He dropped his tiny weapon and cried out, “Oh god, This is the light at the tunnel?!”

Black. And thankfuly not blue.

2009-11-27T23:20:00.000-08:00

Okay, 2 stories here...

story 1- Often I hear people say "Black isn't a colour." Okay, maybe *I* hear that more than most people, given my wardrobe. Hey, I wear more colour than I used to. So shush.

One such impudent critic recent told me "Black isn't a colour. It's a HUE." Wait, let me ask photoshop.... No, according to photoshop, hue has nothing to do with brightness. Hue is what changes red to blue, or green, or any of our rainbow pals. By photoshop's standards, any hue can be turned bright or dark enough to be absolute white or black.

Would that mean that black is EVERY colour? In colour by subtraction, yes, it is. In colour by addition, it is no colour at all. But let's skip the technical side of the semantics, let's talk about how people talk.

"What colour is your dog?"
"It doesn't have any colour."
"Doesn't have any colour?? What is it, INVISIBLE? YOU HAVE AN INVISIBLE DOG?!"
"No, it's black."
"Oh, shut up. You and your invisible dog just shut up before I slap you."
"I told you, he's not invisible, he just doesn't have a colour, he's black."
"Where's your invisible dog, I want to slap him first."

Story 2- The result of wet conditions on brakes has never been a friend of mine, (see joe v mustang, 2001) and last monday the phenomenon paid me another visit. Thankfully to much less grievous results.

Manual wheelchair brakes, unlike brakes in a car, apply pressure directly to the tire. Tires get wet. Wet is slippery. Thus, on a wet day like last monday, (it IS monsoon season in vancouver after all) my brakes became all but useless when I went outside. Thankfully I didn't have Caitlin with me... she doesn't need to be pummeled by rain if not necessary.

So there I was with my wet tires, loaded onto the bus with its wet floor. The straps were hooked onto the back ends of my arm-rests, and off we went. Quite often with sudden acceleration of a bus, I find myself in a momentary, involuntary wheelie. And there we go..

Okay.. this has gone on a fraction of a second longer than I expected. And I'm leaning back farther, maybe. Alright, I'm ready to 'land' again. Any time now. Grab onto the rail and ... well.. frig. And slowly guide the fall to the floor. While my collective mass had been leaning back, my wheels slid forward, and the straps that were supposed to keep me secure- only detained my upper half, which is hat caused the extreme 'lean' back.

By now, others had taken notice. "Stop the bus!" I heard others say, "Stop! The wheelchair fell over!" Yeah, looks like it did, didn't it? Thankfully due to the the minimal impact, I wasn't hurt, and I was still positioned pretty well in the chair. As the bus came to a halt, and a slid a little on the floor, I realized that the floor of a bus smells worse than you might imagine. Next time you get off a bus, find a pile of dogshit as soon as you can, to scrape off the germs from the bus.

This was usually the moment in the fall when I started considering how I was going to fix the situation. There wasn't time. Before I knew it, two or more guys were over me, preparing to haul me and the chair upright. Maybe they knew the smell of the bus floor, and that's why they rushed to my aid so quickly. Either way, yay for one's fellow man.

The bus driver checked with me over and over that I was alright. He seemed to think that a clamp that was supposed to be grabbing my back wheel was to blame for not grabbing. I guess it was a contributing factor. I got into the other wheelchair spot, made sure that the clamp was working, and that the straps were anchored in more useful places. It felt like about a minute from the fall, to when the bus got going again. By far my quickest falling experience.

I wonder how it might have been different if I had Caitlin strapped into my lap. Her added weight might have made my landing rougher. She would have been fine either way, using ME as an impact cushion. Would she have been scared, or amused? Or maybe her weight in my lap might have prevented the fall altogether. It's hard to say, but you can bet I'll always be mindful of the finer details of bus-riding in wet conditions.

Operation eBook drop

2009-11-27T19:26:00.000-08:00

So I recently put my ebooks up on a site called "Smashwords". I think I mentioned it before, along with the huge half-book long samples I have there.

Anyway, somehow or another, I hear about OeBD. Authors (Creeping up to 300 of us now) agree to donate free access to our e-books to troops overseas. Apparently, ebooks, with the mobility and convenience they offer, are popular with the troops, but access to them is a little on the tricky side.

The thing it, OeBD mainly supports US and UK troops... which hey, we're all on the same side, (Give or take the controversy over us being there at all- but this is about the individuals out there, not the policies that got them there), and as a Canadian, I want to help connect OeBD's organizer with a solder or more, who can offer the program to Canadian troops.

Anyone got a contact over there, who might wanna help out a bit?

30,000 Reavers and nuthin' on

2009-11-22T16:32:00.000-08:00

Not too long ago, I re-watched 'Serenity'. (For the uninitiated, it's by Joss Wheadon, and caps off the short-lived, under appreciated sci-fi series 'Firefly', and makes 'Return of the Jedi' look like Sesame street.)

(Firefly DVD set. Rent it, borrow it, buy it. Then Serenity.)

During Serenity (Minor spoilers ahead), we hear details about the creation of the 'reavers', the nastiest group in the Firefly universe. With a little viewer-nerd math, we find out that an estimated 30,000 reavers were originally created.

Feeling smug after I did the simple math, I hit google to see if anyone else had figured it out. Well duh. Many had. I ended up lurking in a forum where people were discussing reavers.

One denizen of this forum felt that reavers weren't explained enough, and that she wanted to see more of 'reaver society'. She wanted all the details. She also wanted to know more about how the ships in firefly worked. She essentially said she wanted it done like Star Trek does it.

Firefly's reavers are scarier BECAUSE we don't know the details. The unknown is scary. We know too much about all the 'evil' star trek aliens for them to be scary at all. Romulans, ooooOOooooOOOh. What's scarier- A Klingon with a Bat'lef coming at you, when you have full knowledge of their government system, and honor based culture, or a Reaver. For much of Firefly, all we know about Reavers is that they will "rape you to death, eat your flesh, and sew your skin into their clothes, and if you're lucky, they'll do it in that order." Hi. Scary. No known origin? (Until the Serenity movie) Mysterious.
In Star Trek we're well informed all about all the significant races, and are fed paragraphs of made-up science revolving around the engines and transporters, etc, etc. I, and many firefly fans love firefly because IT'S NOT STAR TREK. It's much more character driven. The tech is there to enable the story, but the tech itself is not the story. Oh, and don't get me started on Star Trek's 'humor'.

I feel the same way with my writing, (The offer is still on the table for Mr. Wheadon to produce my movies) as I touched on a bit in October at the VCON forum "Hard sci-fi".

There's some tech concepts that I'm alright with watching, but don't want to write about. Faster than light travel, (or even space in general) time travel, teleportation, holodecks, aliens, the list goes on... That much qualifies me as a 'hard' sci fi author, I suppose.

Where I get soft is largely that I don't give a crap about going into detail abut the tech that I DO use. By contrast, the panelist on the other end of the table had doctorates in all kinds of things, and likely lets the reader know every detail he can. That's fine for some, but not me. Like I said, the characters are far more interesting than the rate of decay in the batteries in their walkmen. Or the flux variance on the quantum tribble eviscerator.
(And I will never put anything in my books about anything flux, or quantum.)

So sue me.

New stock in, writing continues.

2009-11-11T11:32:00.000-08:00

Just a quick note to those of you locals who missed out on the last batch (Due to a combination of a lack of preordering, and the huge success at VCON) I got a new shipment today! (Both Lifehack and Watching Yute) So if you're still looking for a copy, let me know! I'm eating the tax, the duty, the delivery, and even after that, I'm rounding down.

I only got trade paperbacks though... if you want a hardcover, order it off the net like the rest of the world. They cost so much more to have made, it's not worth my effort to keep a stock of em.

In other news, 'Echoes of Erebus' pushes forward... I had an idea last night that will vastly improve flow of the story... and force me to erase nearly a week's worth of writing. But that's the way it goes!

I'm at the point just before Sarah's 'birth', which will be a surprise to her, as she's pretty sure she's already in her mid 20's. But that's the way it goes for a gal made of fish parts collected by an ex-genocidal A.I.!

Boo.

2009-11-08T02:06:00.001-08:00

Hi. So yeah, I'm a bit late, but here's the previously promised picture of my Halloween costume. I was keeping it partly under wraps so that most of the people at the Dueckman Halloween party wouldn't have advance notice. Those of you who read this via facebook will have already seen this pic- it's my new profile portrait.

The rabbit ears were added spontaneously for a while at the party, and while technically not part of the costume, it worked, so hey. The hair was done at Moz... and looked better on me than I expected...

I go into there and talk to the lady staffing the counter, and explain what I wanted, and why. She says "Oh, I have just the girl for you!"

"Sorry, I'm married."

My appointment was a week later, in time for a shift at Ghost Ridge, but not so early that I'd be running around like a punk for a week. Not that _I_ minded. The gal that was picked out to do this job seemed quite pleased to be doing it. She probably gets a lot of requests from ladies like "I want it like Jennifer Aniston, kinda." No wait.. that's probably out of style.. who has the hair they all copy now? Whatever.

When the cut was finally done, I turned to leave, and found I had a row of ladies watching it happen. How often do you get an audience for a haircut?

I also did a job on my goatee, though the pic doesn't show it well. The bloody handprint on my face was good ole water based poster paint, (Which somehow disappeared all on its own by the time I got home) assorted junk around my neck, and the welding goggles that reminded me of the sunglasses I had in highschool, for the extreme tint. These goggles were horribly uncomfortable though. They spent more time around my neck, or perched on my head than on my face.

By far, the most difficult part of the outfit was my shoulderpads, and matching kneepads. Yes, that's a tire. A steel belted tire. My tough serrated knife was nearly powerless. My father in law's hacksaw was gruelingly slow, (although he was quite determined!) but Uncle Mark happened to be in the area with a skill saw. That did it. Sparks, stink, flying chunks, lo, the epic struggle.

Later on, when I needed an alteration, I didn't wanna pester those guys again, so I pestered another guy, Peter Gobbee, who brought forth his previously unused angle grinder, (for those of you unfamiliar, if you know a dremmel tool... it's like that, but on steroids. ) He also found the multi-stage solution to getting those spikes through. The steel belting poked out on the cut edges, and filing only wore down the rubber, exposing more metal... so I quit while I was ahead. Between that and the back ends of the spikes, this was not an item of comfort. A thick jacket would be needed.

After that, it was easy to string the chains across the back to hold it on. "You're NOT wearing that on the bus", my wife said as I prepared to wear most of the costume (minus the haircut and makeup) to the sci-fi convention at the start of October, "Some crazy guy will take it and use it to attack the bus driver!"

"Relax," assured Adam Zilliax, "The crazy guy is already WEARING it" Well, I relented, and my spiked shoulderpads found their own ride to the convention and back. However, when I wheeled to the Halloween party, with my spikes, and my triple mohawk, I was casting one badass shadow in front of myself every time I passed under a streetlight. (Remember, I didn't have the bunny ears on at that point!)

And so now, I have my difficult-to-dispose-of steel-belted armor to unload. I entertained wearing it to next years sci-fi convention, but I don't know where I'd store the unwieldy gear. Ghost Ridge might want it...

So now, I have a shaved head and chin, and the epic tale of the tire is done....

and it's almost 3 bloody AM, and I can't sleep due to coughing my lungs out. WHEEEE!!!!

I-dex-A

2009-11-06T10:45:00.000-08:00

Or maybe I should write "eye-decks-ay".

'Eidechse' is what I'm trying to say. It's German for 'lizard'. I wasn't sure about the pronunciation, so I asked the German student we were hosting last year. And I kinda forgot how. I was guessing with "Eye-da-shey", and knew I was wrong... so I just asked the German student I'm hosting right now, and she corrected me.

In fact, half the reason I'm making this blog entry is to cement the correct pronunciation in my head. Idexay. Eidechse. Idexay. What does a German lizard have to do with anything? Read Watching Yute.

There's lizards all over the place around the Yute temple. Specifically the Aeki species. (Don't bother looking it up unless it's on the wiki found on my website)

Speaking of books, I have another shipment on its way, so any of y'all who missed the boat for the first run pre-orders, and were left sucking wind in the wake of the VCON sellout... lemmie know! (This all assumes you're a local... otherwise, you're just as well off ordering online)

Next post- Lifehack versus Watching Yute

Happy Halloween! Who wants literary candy?

2009-10-31T15:49:00.000-07:00

I've just set up on Smashwords as a new distro for my e-books. (My cut's a little lower, but they have a huge distro range, and a pile of formats)

And they encourage a 50% sample! Yeah, that means any of you can go to https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozero , my smashwords page, and go down and read the first half of Lifehack or Watching Yute for free!

All you kiddies out there who said "I wanna get one, but..." You have no money, you can't do X,Y,or Z, or all your stolen creditcards have been reported by their owners... You can go read the first half of the books at least!

By then, I'll have you hooked on my sweet sweet candy. Then you will send me all your empty pop cans to get the book, and I WILL BE RICH! RICH IN MY CASTLE OF ALUMINUM! And I shall look across the lands from my sugar-sticky throne, breathing the air of caffeine, and I shall say, "Geez, I should get more writing done for Echoes of Erebus."

I know, I promised a pic of my coste for my next post, but my next post wasn't supposed ot be so soon. I just wanted to let y'all know about the free samples I have out now...!

VCON day 2: Hard Sci-Fi, and space vampires.

2009-10-29T21:08:00.001-07:00

Hopefully this one will be a bit shorter, as there was only really one event on day 2 that I haven't covered in previous posts. (My next post will be revealing my halloween costume, which I wore about 80% of through VCON, including the event I'm detailing in this post.)

So, roughly a week before VCON, I was informed I was on a panel talking about "Hard Sci-fi". The topic was to be about the usage of science, how 'real' you make it in fiction, how far you can bend the science in to make a story work, and how much you can push realism in science before it turns a novel into a textbook, or a commentary on a game of chess played by 2 copies of Big Blue coated in ritalin.

(That's my phrasing, not the official wording.)

I saw it as my chance to complain about Star Trek. The panelists were all there a tad early, myself last in the door- but still early. Our moderator, Rob Sawyer, (Ahem, Robert J. Sawyer) wrote Flashforward, which was picked up as TV show. He's written for a ton of stuff, won a ton of awards, and written for other TV as well....

So yeah, he was the nobody in the room..... Seriously tho, he was a blast, and became more of a panelist with us others up front, than a ref. BUT, he was running behind, as can happen to the big names at a con.

In the meantime, those of us in the panel decided to toy with the reason we were all there, and discuss how we use and abuse science in our books. It became quickly apparent that among us 'hard sci-fi' authors, I was the softest. That's fine by me overall... softest of the hard. Uhmm... that could be phrased better...

I mentioned how I abuse "EMP" (Electromagnetic pulse) in Lifehack. Commonly in mainstream sci-fi, an EMP is used to screw up electronics, and often, we're told that you can prevent damage from an EMP by shutting off your electronics.

This is BS. Avoiding EMP damage is a fair deal trickier, and does not necessarily require powering down. But I told them all that I went with the BS, because it was needed for the story, but I also explained that there were several sci-fi 'standards' that I won't use.

Here's where I picked on Star Trek a bit. I won't do warp-speed. I'm not even attracted to space travel in general. I won't do transporters, or food replicators, solid holograms, or time travel.

"And I have to apologize in advance to any Stargate:Atlantis fans, but-"

A girl in the front row, I'd guess 14 years old or so, gasped with horror, and switched to red alert. A lady sitting next to her, either her mum or a much older sister, laughed, put her arm around the girl, and said to me, "Oh, you're in trouble now!"

I looked directly at the girl with my most sympathetic face and tone, "I'm truly sorry... but SPACE VAMPIRES??"

The audience at large giggled as the girl hunkered down to bombard me with the grumpiest pout-glare she could summon. From time to time, I found reasons to say things like..."Just because I don't USE things like time travel, doesn't mean I can't enjoy books and shows that use these ideas, there's just not my style. So many of them have been done to death, I don't feel the need to add to that. Still, sometimes on TV, I'll see something just totally ridiculous that just makes me wonder what the writer was thinking... things like...."

And here, I narrow my gaze to the girl, "...like SPACE VAMPIRES!" Oh, I made myself an enemy, didn't I?

Later on, the panelist at the far end of the table, (I forget his name, but he's got his master's degree in...EVERYTHING, with bachelor of arts in ... EVERYTHING ELSE... so he was the hardest of the hard sci-fi authors in the room.

Anyway, he was going on about how ridiculous the space program was to suggest going to Mars, or to even bother going to the moon. I'm not sure what celestial body he was going on about at the time, but he'd entered a slow ranting laundry list of why colonization was a stupid idea.

It was something like "There's all this radiation, the light is totally unsuitable, there's no practical way to get supplies there, there's no oxygen, there's no water,-"

"There's no starbucks," I couldn't help interrupting. I don't think he took it personally, but it got a laugh from the audience, many of whom I feel may have been getting a little tired of his rant. I was actually into what he was saying, and I wouldnt have inturrupted if I didn't think he had made the point he was trying to, but between that and other cheap jokes, I was the comedian of the lineup, for better or worse. Blame the nerves.

I asked several people I ran into the rest of the day who I knew were at the panel, "Hey, did I make a COMPLETE ass of myself in there?" I think it was Rob who replied with a chuckle "COMPLETE ass? If that was your objective, I'm sorry to say you didn't achieve it." Good good.

When I got back to the dealer room, I ran into that girl, the Stargate:Atlantis fan. She presented herself boldly before me, and pointed at me. "There IS such a thing as intergalactic space vampires!"

I would have loved to discuss it further, but I was in a rush. "I dunno! I never met any!"

VCON Day 1, part 2: The Book Launch

2009-10-18T21:27:00.000-07:00

The dealer room closed at 7. All the dealers tidied up for a few minutes, and left the room to be locked up for the night.

By the time that was all done, I had a bit less than an hour to waste until the book launch. I don't want to send the wrong idea, it's not as if it was some huge gala event just for Watching Yute. Every year VCON has this event, where Authors of any sci-fi books released in the last year are invited to come and talk about their book.

Last year, I found out 2 weeks before the event that I'd be expected to do a reading. After the little panic attack, I carefully chose a passage from Lifehack, and did some practicing. It was going to go awful, I just knew it. But I was 'ready'.

And then the readings were canceled, due to unfavorable acoustics at the lounge. It turned into a 'meet & greet' casual thing. It was a disappointment and relief.

This year, (new location, BTW) I hadn't gotten an invite to the launch, but was ready. I had joined a couple meetup groups, at which I was asked to do a little reading. I was semi-prepared.

At the first one, I chose a melancholy passage form the perspective of Watching Yute's heroine, Cassidy. This was a mistake. Between my nerves, lack of a female voice, and the fact that it's a section better ready to one's self quietly, it just didn't come off well. The group was supportive though. I wormed my way to having a 2nd reading. I chose a section of one of the antagonists, Jacob Kirison, trying to fight his paranoia when meeting with a mafia contact.

Here, my rattling nerves proved an asset. The reading didn't go perfect, but it went a lot better. Kirison's generally a jittery fellow, and I used most of my fumbles as part of it, and pressed forward.

At the next meetup with a different group, I did Kirison's bit again. It went smoother. I 'acted' a bit. My errors were secondary to the fun.

Now I was at VCON's book launch, with red bull coursing through me, and no idea if there'd be a reading. I bought a horribly overpriced cuba libra from the 'bar cart' that the hotel had running there. It was twice what I expected to pay, and half the alcohol. I chattered with professor Whovianart, and a few others. One person, I feel bad I don't remember her name... she invited me to a convention party afterwards for Canadian sci-fi writers, but I knew my time would be really tight by the time the launch was over. I was expecting a 2 hour transit ride, and I didn't know what time they buses stopped out on the destination end of the trip.

Some time after I had given up on the idea of a reading, someone walked up to the front, where there was this stage-ish long table with a podium, and suggested to the room that the authors should come up and talk/read a bit. Alright, it was on.

I didn't know what kind of order the authors should go in, so in my typical aggressive style, I waited patiently and listened to others.

One lady was a representative of a local publisher. She got up there and thanked a long list of people, listed books, and prattled on. I was a little confused, she didnt fit into the flow that the room had going. We'd been listening to writers get up there and represent their own brain-children. This didn't feel like the venue for what she was doing. Just when I thought she was wrapping up, she introduced a paid actress, who was going to be doing a reading from a book who's author wasn't there.

I have no idea what the reading was, I was a little lost in a cloud of WTF. That sounds aggressive, but... I just didn't get it. When she wrapped up, people around me nudged me to get up there. Alright. Alright, I'd better go to it.

By the time I crossed the room, a graphic novelist was at the podium already. I forgot his name.. I'm horrible. He had the table across from me last year. Nice meek fellow. I don't think he was planning on a reading, and struggled valiantly to read a graphic novel story without the audience seeing the pictures. He did a good job for being on the spot, but next year, maybe he should see about a projector screen or something.

Alright. My turn at the podium and the microphone. Up the steps, and.. oh. Hm. Wheelchair. I sat below, in front of the podium and stage, and promised to read with my big-boy voice. Two words into reading, someone marched up from the back of the room. "Nah, can't hear ya in the back." and a mic was wrenched from the table, into my hand.

Jacob Kirison came to life once more, fuelled by taurine and nerves. Some time before I got to the line "What?! Why not?!", I was really into it, I was acting it the way I heard it in my head when I wrote it. (FYI, what I read was the Kirison sections from the experts I have on my page, here.)

When I went back to my 'seat', someone peeked over my shoulder to get the title of the book, soon returning from the little sales table looking for a signature for the book. Yaaay!

It wasn't long after that that the launch event was thinning out. I had a bus to catch. As it happened, on the last leg of my journey, I'd be on the 2nd last available bus, and I'd be waiting an hour for it... I might have gotten the 3rd last bus, but on the way out of the launch event, I was stopped in the hall.

"Hey, hold up, you're next, okay?"

Who am I to argue with a TV camera crew? They were interviewing some lady I didn't know. I knew the interviewer though, kind of. Before the launch event, I spotted a guy with a really cool wrist.. bracelet.. thing. It was pretty punk, and would have gone well with my costume bits. Yeah, I was still wearing it. Keep in mind, it's a bit hazardous- though I didn't look as freakish as I will by the time Halloween comes around.

So, the interviewer recognized me and tagged me for a spot. A spot on what? I have no idea. It seems like could have just been a student project, but once again, who am I to argue with a camera crew?
"So, introduce yourself!"
"I'm Joseph Picard!" Was I feeding off his energy, the red bull, or the good reading? In any event, he joked,
"I'm Joseph Picard, he says, as we should already know!" Well of course, aren't I famous yet?

He asked about the costume bits I was wearing, and about what I was doing.

"... and I just did a reading from my new book in there...!"
"Wow! How'd that go?"
"Well, it's hard to be objective, but I think I did pretty good..!"
"Oh! Listen to him and the false modesty! You nailed it didn't you? Yeaaah, you nailed it!"

Hehe, I wish I knew who that guy was, I wouldn't mind a copy of that vid.

That wrapped up, I had to get my transit-unfriendly costume bits safely into the dealer's room. I went to the 'HQ desk' of the convention. Three people were behind the tables, the one on the left partly hidden in shadow. I rolled up and got to the point.

"Hey, I need to get into the dealer room.."
One of one on the right piped in. "Dealer room closed at 7."
"Well, Jeff said I could get in to drop stuff off after the launch, and if he wasn't around, to find Danielle, i think her name was, and-" I blithered on a little bit. The partly hidden figure on the left stood, and waved a keycard for the dealer room.
"That's Danielle." the guy on the right said.

Yeah, she was sitting there all along, and between the low lighting and my fatigue, I didn't see it. She looked a little tired too, which was understandable- she runs the friggin con.

With my transit-hostile costume bits stored safely, I began the longest trip home of the weekend, between pushing my chair uphill to burrard station while already tired, and waiting an hour in coquitlam for the 2nd last bus home, I was spent. And glad I didn't succumb to the temptation to go to that party. Next year, get the hotel room.

I ended up getting into bed at 2:30 or so, and had the alarm set for 6 am. I woke up at 5, and couldn't get back to sleep. I was still tired as heck, but also hyper as heck. It was an odd mix that would get me through saturday... with some assistance from taurine.

VCON Day 1, part 1: The dealer room

2009-10-15T13:44:00.000-07:00

Friday, I roll in around noon to set up. Adam was due any minute to drop off my stash. I found my way to the dealer room on the 3rd floor, and was pointed in the general direction of my table. I had the room map in my head- Once I realized which way the map in my head should be facing, it was all good.

On the way in, I spotted Kevin from BC chains, (specializing in custom chain-mail armour) who I was across from last year. He said he'd re-read Lifehack quite a few times, and was happy to hear I was launching the next book today.

I chatted a little with a fellow vendor across the aisle, who was setting up a board game display for her shop, Starlit Citadel. (I forgot the names of darn near everyone... I suck. I'm having to look up a lot of names here..) After checking out my position a little, I left the room to meet up with Adam, only to find him coming down the hall with 2 Omnex minions helping to haul stuff in. Once deposited, he and his minion mini-horde receded into the shadows, and were gone.

Across the trench from me, (The vendor-only space between the tables) Autumn D. Gentle was setting up her table, with her vampire books (she also does audio books!) and some other bits and bobs. Autumn is a bit of a contradiction in herself. Too shy to really talk to visitors much and push her books, but confident enough to wear thigh-hugging fishnet stockings with a skirt not much bigger than a tutu. "This is nothing," she said about the outfit on a later day, "You should see what I wear to go clubbing." she was a riot. Her sister and her boyfriend came to help out/hang out a bit at different times over the weekend. His name... Blake? And he had awesome pants. Autumn's boots took the cake though.

To the left of her table was a fellow representing "Mindstorm" games, with their new pen&paper RPG system, "Alpha and Omega". It's set 200 years after the bombs go off, and there's a bit about alient involvement. (Which is a playable race)
They'reBEAUTIFUL friggin books, just jaw dropping. Layout and presentation, and the illustrations.. and primo stuff. Oh yeah, and the game system looked logical and solid too. Unlike D&D manuals, you could open a random page in Alpha&Omega, and have a ****ing CLUE what it was talking about with a little logic, and not by looking up 47 tables in different manuals. If I was still in the RPG phase of my life, I would have been really tempted to grab a set. I think at least one of his customers bought em just for the illustrations.

Across the trench from him, and to my right... was a blank table. On day 2, and ONLY day 2, White Dwarf books occupied it, and did alright. But beyond that was a man selling for "Gaukler Medieval wares". He had 2 tables to display all his stuff (mainly jewelery) and when White Dwarf wasn't there, we both took half of that table, partly just to avoid an unsightly blank...

One more notable dealer within earshot, (To yabber on with in the quiet times) was against the wall to my left, "Professor Whovianart" who seemed to specialize mainly in steampunk oddities. He's got yo-yos (Oh, excuse me, RETURN TOPS), an oscilloscope, and a funky collection of goggles, among other things. And his lego is NOT for sale! (Tip, Professor:, any sentence that stats out "Everything but the lego," is not the kind of thing I want to hear!)

Nearly everyone I mentioned gave me a bit of a hand with my Poster display, which started out on the table... until it changed its mind. It spent the rest of the con standing on the floor.

As the dealer room hours went on, we saw many of the same visitors from last year... well... I did, anyway. Alpha&Omega guy... uh, let's call him Alpha... and Autumn hadn't done VCON before, so I felt like the veteran in my section of the room, with a whole other year's event with of experience. Whoopiedo!

"Is is always this dead?" Autumn asked early on Friday.
"No," mulled the seasoned VCON veteran Ozero, "This is just like before. Friday starts slow. People still at work, grabbing dinner. They'll come. They mostly come out at night. Mostly."

Alright, I might not have phrased it like that... but it was also the series premiere of Stargate: Universe that night... much to my own irritation.

The dealer room closed for the day at 7pm, and my own sales had come around, one of which was to Kevin of BcChains, who added a small tin of candy, that I had bought him out of last year. (They make great RPG dice containers!)

Many familiar visitors 'orbited' around the dealer room, striking up conversation, generally hanging out. Not buying. But that's fine, half the reason I'm here is to hang with my fellow nerds, not to push sales onto 'the orbiters'.

Wow, I've gone on quite a bit... good time to wrap up this entry. Next time: Friday- Book Launch event!

Note to those of you following this through facebook or other places my blog gets exported to: If you prefer, you can also see my blog through a tab on the top section of my site.

Transit, dangerous appearel, and a tale of Pete.

2009-10-12T21:46:00.000-07:00

Okay, I promised I'd write about VCON, and I have several topics lined up, but let's start with a warmup.

I've but a fair bit of effort into my halloween costume this year. Big credit to my father in law, Paul, and uncle... uh.. in law.. Mark.. is that a thing, uncle-in-law? and my fellow Optimist, Peter Gobbee. I lack in power tools.

Anyway, with all this fuss, I thought I'd get as much mileage out of the thing as I could. So it seemed like a fun idea to wear it to VCON. It's not huge and bulky, but for SOME reason, my wife thought it would be a bad idea to wear it on the bus. I won't leak much more about the costume, as I still want to surprise people who may read this, but suffice to say, for public safety, I agreed not to wear it during my trip from Pitt Meadows to VCON, 2 hours by bus and skytrain, near Burrard station.

Volunteer editor Adam Zilliax came though, porting the dangerous bits of the costume, as well as the books and other stuff I was going to setup at VCON. Thanks again Adam!

Dangerous bits aside, I wore much of the costume on transit, earning some odd looks here and there. And outside the Burrard station, from people on an open-top tour bus.

In the course of 3 days, I took 3 round trips, totaling well over 15 hours of travel time, once you include an extra hour I had to wait at Coquitlam Station at midnight, waiting for the next bus, and my sunday detour on the way home to meet up with Grace Endo at GF strong.

Highlights include my first trip across the new Pitt River bridge sunday evening, (whoopie, the day before it officially opened!.... whoopie.) and my first ride of the fairly new Canada Line train. Picture the skytrain, 30% wider, and ... clean. I mean, the skytrain isn't generally FILTHY, but the Canada line train was Star-Trek Federation clean. And it ran smooth and quiet, like the skytrain used to.

In the process, I did a lot of wheeling on new and 'hostile' terrain. From Burrard station to VCON was mostly downhill, which made for challenging but manageable trips back to the station in the evenings. Waterfront was downhill form VCON, but quite a bit further.

The low point of the transit adventures was the one day I took the 160 bus from Coquitlam to Burrard. The website said it was a shade faster than the skytrain.. and it was.. a shade.. but the stop-go action didn't help my pain situation. Worse though was the trip through East Hastings. You hear about the homeless situation there, you see it on TV, but seeing it for real really hits ya. Oddly, I felt a little like a tourist. "Oh, look at that hotel, I've seen it on the news a lot!" "Oh, that place is a notorious dive! I saw it on the news a lot!" "Oh, I saw that on the news, and that, and.."

In a related story, last wednesday on the way home, Michelle and I stopped at the 7-11 I used to work at to pick a few things up. I stayed in the van, since I wasn't needed, and it's a huge hassle to get out. In front of the store, near the doors sat Pete.

Pete's a homeless guy who's been in Maple Ridge for ages, though he's been seen quite far off. That was before he was in a wheelchair though. There's rumor and 'truth' about Pete. I've spoken with him a couple times. He's VERY quiet, and not super sociable, but he's friendly, and by all accounts, a harmless fellow. He's been pulled off the streets many times, and somehow always finds his way back. Conventional wisdom is that he refuses to stay where they stick him, but the rumors around him as so thick, it's hard to say.

At any rate, I sat in the van, watching people go around him and avoid him, mostly. A few said a few words to him, and he replied. I couldn't hear what was said. He never started a discussion with anyone, never bothered anyone. Michelle eventually came out, and leaned over to Pete, offering him something- what I later learnt to be a slice of 7-11 pizza. He seemed to take a little time to understand. He accepted it, and nodded. As we pulled out, Pete was munching away at it, seemingly oblivious to the world. What does he think about? Why has he been out there so long?

Alright, that ended up depressing...! Next time: Meet the vendors!

If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them, maybe you can hire…

2009-10-06T20:32:00.000-07:00

Last day of VCON, I'm heading out, rollin' down to waterfront station. On the way, I pass the big convention centre.

I spot a freaky looking cop car. "Polizei" on the side. I ask a couple girls taking pictures of each other in front of it. "Is that German, or Russian, or?"

"German, I think." By now, I'd spotted several more of these 'German police cars' (The real thing doesn't look as funky as these ones did) along the road, as well as a "LuftPost" van or some such. All around, signage on buildings was covered up with German variants. Set crew moved tables, and a "crew only" catering table sat nearby. I wheelied over cables, around random bits of movie-set junk, trying to play it cool while I tried to look for clues.

Finally, I imposed a little, when I saw a couple actors/extras sitting down to munch an early dinner sandwich. My eye was drawn to the redhead sitting at the end for some reason. "Hey, alright, I'll bite. What is this, can ya leak a little info?"

She smiles, "The A-Team movie!" El Oh El. I had heard rumors about an A-team movie, but I certainly didn't expect to stumble onto the set. "We're in 'Stockholm' next."

Half a block later, I ran into a gal who WANTED to be an extra, as she's a big fan of Liam Neeson (Hannibal). The directions she gave me were totally wrong... Maybe she was bitter for not being able to be an extra, or maybe her sense of direction cost her the gig somehow. Either way, I pity da foo.

It was a strange side-event in my VCON weekend.

I plan to be blogging a lot about the con over my next few entries, but the short version is: It was great. Crazy nerdy fun, sold a heap of both Lifehack and Watching Yute, got great feedback, and have already set myself up for next year. I'm still recovering sleep. Next post: Day 1, part 1.

Countdown to VCON

2009-09-29T12:37:00.000-07:00

3 sleeps left! But I'm ready. Thanks to Adam Zilliax, who is playing cargo duty from the Pitt to the Con. I've also been invited to be on a 4-member discussion panel during the con, about the usage of science in fiction. How far can you, or should you push it?

I also went to my 2nd meetup meeting last night, (different than the one all the way downtown that I neglected to blog about due primarily to time constraints) and they gave me homework. I have a month to do it, so I can focus on VCON for now. And when the next meeting comes, it'll be close to halloween, so I'm tempted to go in the costume Ive been working on. (Yeah, y'all will get pics of it eventually)

I hope this rain gives me a friggin break on the weekend.. and tomorrow.. I need air in my tires badly, and the most convenient place to fill em is a gas station, which is plenty far if you're wheeling it in the rain.

In other news, Caitlin's fallen in love with 'mermaid!'.. the little mermaid, and any of the sequels. I think she's just as soon skip over any sections focusing on the badguy though. Ariel, Harmony, and the animal sidekicks are really her focus. I think we found a lead for xmas presents.. if she's not tired of mermaids by then...

Sorry, Canada...

2009-09-22T13:55:00.000-07:00

I just found out that just because my books have ISBNs, doesn't mean you can order it from any ole' bookstore. In fact, you'd be lucky to find Lifehack on Amazon.ca. If you go to Amazon.COM however, it's no big deal to find both books. And then you get stuck with that cross-border shipping charge.

For two $15 books, the shipping was nearly another $15. Meanwhile, the yanks can get both my books and qualify for 'super saver' shipping. Ie: free.

What a splendid set of discoveries. It looks like efforts marketing to Canadians farther away than a bus ride is kinda wasted. I can pitch pretty strongly to the yanks though. Yay?

Maybe it's time I swallow my impatience, and look at the traditional publishers, who cut through most of the cross border crap. Or maybe I just need to find a Canadian print shop that can do what my US outfits can do, for a comparable price... Hah... any suggestions?

In any event, I'll keep on with my current distro model for the 3rd book.. being another followup after Lifehack. After that, there will be a fresh start with books unrelated to Lifehack or nanites, and I might turn to traditional press, and the whole "Submit the manuscript to 100 different publishers in very specific pain-in-the-ass formats that differ for each one, then wait about a year to hear back from any of them" shtick.

Yeah. Fun.