The Worlds In Which We Live

By David Youngquist

I was at an event last Thursday with Matt Nord, another writer of dark speculative fiction. I was hoping for a better turn out than we got. The event was well advertised. The gentleman conducting it had been on the radio talking about it. Fliers were up all over town. It was all about zombies and vampires and werewolves (oh my!) and I figured we’d have a good turn out this close to Halloween.

We got six people. Two cousins of Matt. One of his old teachers, and the rest were people in the library who wandered in for hot cider and a soft chair. One gentleman proceeded to take off his shoes and rub his feet the rest of the evening. Ah well. Literary events in small towns. Gotta love ‘em.

We did, however, have a good discussion between two writers. You know, those kind of talks you don’t get to have with people you work with daily. You can’t really talk about how a character in your book gives you trouble because he wants to do something you don’t want him to. Or you have to kill this other character even though you really like her. Tell that to someone in your day job, and most likely, the least you’ll get is a weird look and “Well, you’re the writer, do what you want.”

One thing we talked about was the worlds we live in. Our real, everyday worlds where the kids get sick, the wife needs help with the dishes, and you forget to pick up milk on the way home from work. And the world we create where we decide who gets sick, the houses never seem to get cleaned, but are never dirty, and what’s milk  anyway?

It was interesting to talk about this weird little way we live our lives with another writer and a scattering of fans. The discussion evolved out of talk of how some people lose themselves in the world you create. Sometimes literally. People who become your characters. Granted, I’m not big enough to have that happen yet, but we discussed some of the Star Wars and Star Trek fanboys for a bit.

Some people seem to have an internal glitch somewhere, some need, that gets filled by living that fantasy life. People who become that Jedi, that space explorer. People like that tend to worry me. I loved Archon, and loved being arrested by the 501 Storm Trooper Brigade. My bail went to a good cause, and the folks running it were a blast to talk with and be around. Folks who can keep their realities separate generally are fun people with great imaginations. I worry about the ones who wear their Jedi robes around the house.

I’ve met two writers who became lost in the worlds they created. Both fantasy writers. Both had been working on these books since high school, which is to say ten and fifteen years respectively. Same book, same world. Just immersed in the world they preferred to live in. Where they call the shots. Where they rule. Where they can kill off the people who antagonize them if they want with no repercussions.

I had offered to help both of them work on their stories. To clean it up, you know. After fifteen years of work, it might need some editing. Nope. No thanks. Appreciate it, but don’t need your help. One guy actually got nervous to the point of stuttering and sweating at the thought of me offering changes to his book.

That’s when I realized that for all their talk about being the next Tolkien, the books would never see an editor.

I’ll let you in on a secret: I’m ready to move away from Snareville. As much as I love Dan, Pepper, Cindy, Jinks and the whole crew, I’m ready to go. Adrian Chamberlin and I are working on the third book in the series together, and having a ball doing it, but after living in that dark world for the better part of three years, I’m ready to move on.

I’ve said before that we’re not all horror writers all the time. As much a triumph the folks of Danny’s world have pulled off, it’s too dark a place to live all the time. I’m looking forward to getting back to Gwennolin. I haven’t talked with Black Jack or Tabby or Mau-Pang for awhile. I enjoy the people of Felis, even the weaselly ones.

I’ll grant Jack’s not always a pleasant guy. Matter of fact, he starts out as a rather suicidal drunk, but he was fun to mature on the page. Gwennolin itself is a place of magic. It’s really not a typical fantasy book, but I’ve concluded that none of my work is typical anything. It’s a fun place, and as many troubles Jack gets into, I’m looking forward to spending some time there. Maybe someday at Archon I’ll see a couple people dressed as Jack and Tabby.

Julia’s memories of Archon…

BY: Julia Messina

I didn’t know what to expect at Archon in Collinsville, Illinois.

I’d been to tradeshows and book fairs throughout the US and Europe, but never had I attended a fantasy/horror tradeshow, so this was going to be interesting. Like everything else I do, I went into it with an open mind and a relatively open wallet–and that’s a good thing, because there was a lot to buy! From character costumes to game cards and books and souvenirs, all the way to the sexiest corsets I’ve ever seen (probably because I haven’t really seen that many…)–it was fun, fun, fun to watch the constant parade of costumed attendees roaming the warehouse-sized trade floor. One minute I’d be chatting up the Dark Continents book line with a sophisticated gent dressed in an expensive woolen blazer, while the next minute would bring a group of buxom corset-clad zombies to the table, looking for a good read.

Everybody loved our zombie ducks. Sylvia brought them and made a game of “Pick a Duck” as an extra-added attraction for our table—and it was a smashing success! Buy a book, pick a duck—the number on its butt corresponded to a prize that could be had with the purchase of a book! Ah, yes…gimmicks. Well, they drew attention and were definitely crowd pleasers (we had to hide them at night so that folks didn’t walk away with them when we weren’t looking).

At the artists’ exhibit, David and I found some extraordinarily good artists to pass on to our Art Director, John. David made some good connections with other small publishing houses as well. By attending in three, each of us was able to participate in some of the workshops and author talks, while the others manned the table during our absence.

One thing I noticed was that cover art is the real draw when dealing with an audience that is unfamiliar with the authors’ works. Hot covers of sexy women really do draw the attention of passersby, as does the big, beautiful Dark Continents Banner that we were able to hang behind the table, thanks to the serendipitous positioning of another vendor’s back wall. Another important aspect of making a success of a tradeshow sales opportunity is that you really have to talk up the line, asking potential readers what interests them and then guiding them to what we have that may suit their tastes. Hand selling is definitely the way to a reader’s heart—and it’s a great way to find out what’s hot and what’s not…all of which brings me back to the corsets…

As a modest-yet-buxom, kind of geeky Italian-American from the Midwest, I hadn’t had a lot of experience with super-sexy garments…but I was curious, so I made my way over to the vendor (who was doing a bang-up business, by the way) and tried on my first “bar wench” corset. It was OK but nothing special, so I decided to pass on it until… the vendor offered up a beautifully brocaded underbust version that—once laced up, made me look amaaaazzzzing—so much so that I could vividly imagine my husband’s reaction to it, and pulled out my handy-dandy credit card.

So, yes, the tradeshow, the book sales and the events that surround it are well worth our time and effort as a publishing company, and I’m looking forward to future cons, particularly the DragonCon in Atlanta next year—who knows what fanciful treasures I’ll find there…