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The Rotundo World Tour


ConStellation 9
Lincoln, NE
April 20-22

WorldCon 76
San Jose, CA
August 16-20

MileHiCon 50
Denver, CO
October 19-21

Watch this space for updates!

Archive for September, 2012

Progress Report, in which I blame Chicago

So there I was, back from WorldCon, feeling ready to take the reins again and start the next novel project, and then . . .

Wait.  Let me back up.  See, I had occasion last week to discuss a particular story of mine with a couple of folks.  It’s been through two drafts, but really could use a third.  I’ve been putting it off and putting it off, partly because I didn’t know how to fix the problems I had with that story, and partly because I needed to get some fresh word count.

But I got to thinking about it, and I’d really like to get this piece into the world.  It does no one any good collecting dust on my desk.  So before jumping into the next novel, I thought I’d try pulling out the manuscript and at least taking a look.

And I got an idea for fixing it, by lopping off a significant chunk of the opening.

Yep, there it is again—my penchant for starting the story in the wrong place.  Openings.  Never have quite gotten the knack of them.

So I’m going hit this rewrite first.  Y’all don’t mind, do you?

I suppose if it goes down in flames, I can always blame it on Chicago.

No updates for Write Club.

Laterz . . .

Current Music: "Stand (at the Burning Tree)"--Black Country Communion

Progress Report, which I cleverly disguise as a WorldCon 2012 recap

Scenes from a WorldCon:

Wednesday. Arrival.  As I approach the Hyatt, wheeling my baggage behind me, I spot John Scalzi just outside the main doors.  We nod hello to each other.  I find this rather amazing and wonderful—that within moments of arriving, I start seeing people I know.  Compare and contrast this with my first WorldCon, way back in 1997, when I knew no one, and felt like a complete outsider.

Thursday. By the end of the first day of the con, my badge has already collected a ridiculous number of ribbons.  This means something, I’m sure.  What that might be I leave as an exercise for the reader.

Friday. My reading seems to go fairly well—which is to say, I have an audience (and some of them aren’t people I begged to come).  I read an excerpt from “Odd Jobs.”  I would have preferred to get the whole story in, but time constraints don’t allow it.  When it’s over, I even get to sign an autograph.  I must say that at this point in my career, that sort of thing hasn’t gotten old.

At my reading (photo courtesy of Merrie Haskell)

Friday night. I give myself a nasty cut attempting to open a beer bottle at the Tor party, and have to spend several minutes with a wad of tissue clenched in one hand, lest I bleed out right there in front of everyone—which would have been kind of embarrassing.  I somehow survive, though I still bear the scars.

Saturday. The writing workshop session is productive and professional.  The participants seem receptive to my comments on their work, and no one’s dreams are crushed.  (Hmmm.  Have to work on that.)  Co-pro Charles Coleman Finlay gives some flat-out brilliant critiques.  I walk away deeply impressed.

Saturday night. At the Baen party, Mike Underwood coins the term oontzes, which must surely make its way into the Geek Lexicon.  I leave that to Mike.

Sunday. Sparks fly at the Pseudo-science panel, as expected.  But that’s better than a smattering of polite applause and silence as everyone files out of the room.  Certain thoughts on this panel might be worth a more detailed blog post.

Later, I meet for drinks with my Launchies.  (Launch Pad Class of 2012 rawks, baybee!)

Sunday night. Just before the Hugos, this happened.

(I’m in the back row, kinda hard to see.)

Monday. I attend very enjoyable readings by my homeys Grá Linnaea and Chris Kastensmidt, then set out to see some of Chicago.  A boat tour along the Chicago River and into Lake Michigan is followed by a visit to that bean thingy.  The latter proves to be deeply weird and cool.

At the bean thingy (photo courtesy of Dani Martin)

Tuesday.  I depart, reluctantly returning to the (vastly overrated) Real World.

In between, I meet old friends, recent friends, online friends I’ve never previously connected with in meatspace, and make plenty of new friends—far too many to name here, for fear of leaving someone out.  I have delightful conversations; I eat way too much food; I stay up way too late; I don’t get near enough facetime with some folks.

And that was WorldCon 2012.  Next year is in San Antonio, where we’ll do it all again.

ETA:  Corrected the spelling of oontzes, with thanks to Mike Underwood, who would know.

Current Music: "Little Secret"--Black Country Communion