Hello all.
It has been a long time since I wrote anything
nonfiction, especially for this blog. Of course, it’s a new day, with new
possibilities on the horizon and new adventures into absurdity to talk about.
This past weekend was Stokercon 2019, held in Grand
Rapids, Michigan. Last year I was unable to attend due to weather conditions at
the venue location in Providence, Rhode Island.
Plane travel; it’ll screw you over every time.
Grand Rapids is a thirteen-hour drive and you lose an
hour going across the border into Michigan. I decided that this year would be
different from last. This wasn’t some twenty-five hour pilgrimage; it was a thirteen-hour
jaunt, no big deal. So with much confidence, I planned to drive.
My loved ones tried to talk me out of it, to instead get
a plane ticket, but I held fast… And was thrown a curveball when my father
decided to make the drive with me.
For those of you who haven’t met him, my father grew up
in East Texas, is a Green Bay Packers fanatic, and hasn’t watched nor read
anything in the horror genre in nearly forty years.
And here I was going to a horror convention.
Shrugging my shoulders and with a devil-may-care attitude,
I decided that this was a grand idea. We hadn’t been on one of our father/son
adventures in a long time and I thought it would be nice to spend some time
together.
And so our journey began.
Hour One
Dad and
I loaded up the car, started the engine and gave a modified quote from one of
my favorite movies:
Dad: There are 948 miles to Grand Rapids,
we have a full tank of gas, half a pack of jolly ranchers, it's dark, and we're
wearing sunglasses.
Yours Truly: Hit it!
I’ve
been a rabid fan of the Blues Brothers
since I was twelve. I laugh every time and here we were nearly living it. On
the road, with a goal.
You see,
I had signed up for several pitch sessions at the convention where I would
present my work to prospective publishers and hope they had interest. Just like
the titular brothers, I was on my personal mission from God.
Hour Five
Time on the road is a little screwy; you find yourselves
reminiscing as well as noticing the most off-the-wall bizarre things on the
highway.
For instance: the overabundance of Lion’s Den Adult
Superstores in the Midwest. Every twenty miles like clockwork there was another
billboard advertising the establishment, followed by the next iteration of the
franchise. All of them happened to resemble a place where a man would ask if
you wanted a back-alley kidney transplant.
I expected nothing less.
Hour Nine
Going through Chicago, we encountered a traffic jam that
lasted an hour. Little known fact (or massively known, I prefer to think “little”)
about me… I HATE TRAFFIC JAMS.
How do they happen? It doesn’t make any sense to me. Just
drive! Do the thing you were literally doing five minutes ago!? My temper
usually flares, but I was having too much fun to let myself feel it this time. Still,
by the time we actually exited it, the sun was down and Michigan was dark.
Illinois Traffic Jams, I hate Illinois Traffic Jams.
Hour Fourteen (Time Zones Are Witchcraft)
So we arrived at Grand Rapids in the
middle of the night; around midnight, but closer to one. Dad got in bed, I went
to my own, though I lay awake for a while… thinking about reunions and what the
day would entail. I was ready for reunions, but I was very ready for pitches.
To quote the film again, albeit modified: “I had a pitch
good enough to turn goat piss into gasoline.”
Stokercon 2019
We awoke the next day and immediately headed over to the
hotel where the convention was taking place. We received our passes and went
about trying to find someone I knew. In short order I ran into Michael Bailey,
a fantastic author as well as editor. I hadn’t seen him in two years and it was
a wonderful reunion. After that we proceeded to a panel moderated by the lovely
Linda Addison.
When I first came into this world about three years ago,
Linda was one of my first friends. I try to attend a panel she is on or
moderates at every convention that we’re both present at. She is a fantastic
poet and great friend.
Dad was ecstatic to finally meet her, even getting a
picture.
We talked and I updated her on the goings on of life,
because, like Michael, I hadn’t seen her in two years. Reuniting with old
friends brings me joy.
Also of note, I met Gabino Iglesias in person. I’ve known
Gabino online for a while now and we had a great chat before the panel. If
you’re not reading him, you need to be.
We then attended a panel entitled, “How To Conduct A
Reading”. This was especially helpful and informative considering I’m
performing my first reading at Scares That Care Charity Weekend in August.
I also met up with good friend Wesley Southard, a
phenomenal writer and attender of Bachelor Party 2018, an event hosted and
attended by some of my best friends in this business.
Here is a link to his Amazon page: https://www.amazon.com/Wesley-Southard/e/B005HFH8JY%3Fref=dbs_a_mng_rwt_scns_share If you haven’t pre ordered One For
The Road, you need to. That book is going to be fantastic.
Wes and I proceeded to hangout for about an hour, catching
up and just generally yapping about recent goings-on in the genre as well as
shoptalk. After that I asked if we could go find Brian Keene (mentor, ne’er do
well, and all around outlaw author) and found him in his room interviewing
Jonathan Janz.
Jonathan Janz is not only a prolific writer with much
success, but he is also one of the nicest individuals that I have the pleasure
of knowing. It was incredibly heartwarming to be able to catch up with him.
It was at this point that Dad managed to get on the
podcast when Brian asked who he was… Needless to say, “I’m Connor’s Dad” caused
me to lightly groan and put my head in my hands, but Janz and Brian both took
it in good stride. After introducing Dad to Brian, as well as engaging in a
little shoptalk, we parted ways and headed out to lunch.
It was a good time; Dad and I found a small sports bar up
the street and we proceeded to talk about what he had seen and learned. Good to
have some feedback from a man who was unused to the business, even better to hear
that he was enjoying himself and finding the whole process of the convention
fascinating. He retired back to the hotel afterwards while I returned and
mentally prepped myself for the three pitches that I had.
Unless you have done it before, there isn’t quite a way
of describing what it is like, waiting for your name to be called
for a pitch. There are usually multiple publishers but you only get to pick
three at this convention and so you want to pick the ones that are closest to
what you have to pitch. Sometimes you have to pick ones that aren’t quite what
you had in mind.
Needless to say, you sit there and you contemplate the
important questions: How will I pitch it? What should I say and not say? Will
they like it?
But then they call your name and it‘s Showtime.
Even though my track record for pitching projects is
flawless (I’ve never had a publisher not ask to see what I pitched them), I
still get incredibly nervous, though I have to shove it down when game time
comes around. Go big or go home.
My record remained intact; all three publishers asked to
see the projects I pitched them.
After that, I joined Brian, Wes, Rachel Autumn Deering
and her fiancé, Ashley, for dinner. It had been a while since I had seen Rachel
and it was nice to catch up with her as well as get to know Ashley. As usual,
when writers gather for dinner, jokes were exchanged, gossip was shared, and we
left happy.
Rachel and Ashley decided to go to the bar while Brian,
Wes, and I ventured to the hallway outside of the ballroom where they would be
hosting the Award Ceremonies (Brian would be presenting the award for Best
Graphic Novel).
We avoided the banquet in exchange for hanging out in the
lobby and talking to various authors and convention goers. Brian headed off to
present the award while Wes and I snuck back up to the hotel room and watched
hockey.
Brian eventually returned, chastised us for watching the
last 30 minutes or so of the awards ceremony on our phones, and swept us off to
the after party.
For those who have never attended a writer party, there
is a mess of alcohol, a whole lot of meeting new people, and deep conversations
between people who know that they are only truly understood in the world by
each other.
Brian has stated publicly that writers are like a tribe
and that you feel most at home around each other. Even if you only see each
other every few years, you feel like family.
That was what it was like as I looked around and saw friends
engaged in conversation and antics, photos flashing, people hugging; a little
slice of paradise for people like me.
Brian at this point came and grabbed Wes and I so that we
could be guests on Scott Edelman’s podcast Eating
the Fantastic. Scott is a comic book writer from the 70’s as well as a
fantastic editor. He’s most famous for his work on the Captain Marvel series.
Scott hosts his podcasts in lobbies and restaurants,
conducting his interviews over a meal. In this particular case he had us choose
a donut from a menu, then we got handed a random one.
It was supposed to reflect our personalities, I think.
I chose the Simply Susan and to anyone who knows my food
choices knows I’m a fan of the simple and plain. I thought it was apropos.
Anyone who wishes to listen to the interview can do so
here: http://www.scottedelman.com/2019/05/14/dare-to-eat-donuts-with-a-dozen-horrific-creators-during-the-stokercon-donut-spooktacular/?fbclid=IwAR04YdQSGmADcNtsSSzeE5sDzSCFK23f8yhOn2xEvnmzFiLwKC7AVJJwJO4
Wes and I went back to the party after the interview,
where I learned that my dear friend, Sara Tantlinger, won her first Bram Stoker
Award for Superior Achievement in Poetry. I congratulated her. She is quite
well deserving of the accolade.
The evening wore on and eventually it was time to leave.
I said my goodbyes and prepared to leave, but not before Brian introduced me to
Josh Malerman. I’ve been a fan of Malerman’s work for years, and for all of you
who have watched Bird Box but have not read the novel, you need to go amend
that swiftly. It’s one of the best I’ve read in years. Here is a picture of the two of us.
And just like that… I left the convention and my dear
friends behind, heading home with renewed vigor and drive. A definite feeling
that I belonged came with me.
The Return Journey
Like most return journeys, after the climax there isn’t
much to tell here. It was much the same as the trip up except for one detour…
Dad and I went to visit Old Joliet Prison where scenes from the Blues Brothers
were filmed.
To my father and I this was the equivalent of visiting
holy ground, and the fact was not lost on us. We proceeded to snap pictures of
the prison and where the esteemed Jake and Elwood Blues characters stood. We
slung quotes back and forth and I even had Dad take a photo of me in front of
the gates just so I could feel like Jake Blues when he exited.
Sweet Home Chicago, indeed.
Other News
Things have gone back to normal after the weekend, and
for those who are curious about what comes next, I have good news. I’m putting
the final edits on the project that I pitched to be sent out to the publishers
who requested it. It’s a novella, but one of my favorite projects I’ve ever
written, and now with less of an acid trip ending after its rewrite.
Besides that, I have two novels: one for the same
publisher above and another for a different one. Those will begin after the
above edits are finished.
Another project that I can’t say much about is in the
works for the end of the year, a novella. The guidelines are different from my
usual fare, but I like a challenge.
Last, but certainly not least, is Stephen Kozeniewski and
I’s project. The edits are underway and hopefully will be done soon.
A
lot of irons in the fire and a lot of roadrunners to chase. Just because I
caught one doesn’t mean there aren’t plenty of others out there.
