Sense of Adventure » ASFS

The Dinosaur Show hits the road

Victor — Fri, 05 Aug 2011 18:49:39 +0000

…. to a few miles east along Griegos/Comanche (it’s an Albuquerque thing) to St. Andrew Presbyterian Church, 5301 Ponderosa Ave NE, for the August meeting of the Albuquerque Science Fiction Society, where I’ll be telling the faithful the latest word on the progress of a little thing I like to call The Dinosaur Lords.

Both the novel itself (due out from Tor in early 2013), and the epic fantasy trilogy of which it forms the first volume, otherwise known as The Ballad of Karyl’s Last Ride.

As a bit of an appetizer: I’ll be talking about the history of what is an epic fantasy in every dimension (a story which itself is pretty epic, given that I commenced writing the thing on my birthday, August 3rd, in 2002), answering questions, and soliciting the help of my ever-resourceful and beloved fans on a certain pressing question of the day: how do I sum up the story briefly for the inevitable press releases?

I’ll also, of course, be encouraging them as hasn’t yet to visit my free preview chapters here at Sense of Adventure, and to send, like, everybody they know here too. Also everybody they talk to. Ever.

As Eddie Lee says in my favorite movie ever, “And a whole lot more!”

What’s better than Walking With Dinosaurs?

Armored knights … riding them into freaking battle!

Meeting commences at 7:30 PM.

Be there. Aloha.

Emma has another friend

Victor — Sun, 12 Dec 2010 04:45:16 +0000

I don’t want to overload you with Emma Dog. (I know – too late.)

But since she’s also like the biggest single draw for the blog, I’m going to anyway. Plus she did something else which her fond and foolish Daddy found adorable. So, deal.

Friday night was the annual ASFS December Dessert Cook-Off Meeting. And I was late. (It wasn’t fashionably late, because part of my learning the skill of being a Suave Monster is never to deign to notice fashion*.) No, there were two compelling, if not good, reasons.

First was I got lost on the way. Driving the simplest possible route: straight south from the Comanche entrance down I-25 to the Gibson Eastbound exit. Unfortunately, about 99% of the time I head east at the interchange onto I-40, so guess what I did? (For complicated reasons I actually went west. It was shorter that way. No, global circumnavigation was not involved.)

But before that … I took Emma for a walk around the block. And she got distracted playing with her friend. No, not this one; a different one. One she actually made friends with some time ago.

Over on 3rd Street, in the house a block west of her new Pom friend’s, there lives what appears to be an adolescent hound pup. (I says appears because the beast seems to’ve remained adolescent an awfully long time. Still: Paul McCartney.) While Emma sniffed I looked across the street wondering why the people there hadn’t yet turned on their outside Christmas lights, even though it was just after the magical hour of 7 PM when everybody in Albuquerque turns on their Christmas lights (the anti-magic hour is 9 PM, when everybody in Albuquerque turns their Christmas lights off.) And suddenly the pup comes shooting up to the fence, naturally scaring crap out of me.

Emma went right into friendly mode: ears up, head cocked, tail wagging to beat the band. So they started playing. The pup would race along inside the fence. Emma would race alongside her outside. Fortunately Emma long since learned I don’t like having my arm yanked, so she’d stop before hitting the extent of her Flexi-leash. The pup would race on and then run up to go nose-to-nose with Emma, and they’d both wag tails.

We progressed around the corner and along the blocks in these kinds of stages. Emma, who is quite active but a long ways from adolescence, didn’t try to keep up with her friend; she got so she’d dart a few feet and then stop. Didn’t matter to the pup, who run clear down to the end of the fence and come rushing back.

It was very sweet. Also, it fascinated me, because I’d never seen Emma play, or interact in a friendly way, with another dog anywhere near so long before.

So naturally I couldn’t just drag her away.

After several minutes Emma got tired of it on her own and went trotting toward our street. The poor pup was crestfallen. She wasn’t ready to quit. I made me a little sad, but it was Emma’s choice.

And the odds are pretty good there’ll be another time.

Onto today … we had our Mass Wild Cards Signing at Page One Bookstore. It was a success – got a fair number of people to come sit and listen to us do our song and dance, plus they bought a lot of books. In particular they bought out the stock of the book we were primarily pimping, Wild Cards I. Which made us all happy, especially Page One.

Thanks much to everybody who turned up! And again, mega-thanks to Page One for hosting, and Craig Chrissinger for setting it all up.

Now I’m home, after our post-signing dinner at Powdrell’s a few blocks from my house. And I feel as if I’ve been beaten by big branches. So now I need to get my December sub ready and emailed off to the writers’ group, and get some darned sleep.

*It helps that “fashion” wouldn’t do me a bit of good, anyway.

Sweet victory

Victor — Sat, 17 Jul 2010 05:47:18 +0000

I really intended to walk Emma Dog today. Even though I walked four miles last night with her Uncle Joe – which I’m pretty sure is the farthest I’ve walked since I got sprung. I felt up for it. Would’ve made it three days in a row, and eight miles in three days. Definite progress.

And then … stuff happened.

First, and best: we’ve finalized the Seekrit Projekt and the contracts are on their way. I know nothing is ever real until the check clears the bank. So total celebration would be premature.

And I’m not sure yet what I can divulge.

That said … a qualified … YAY!

I also made good rewriting progress. In fact, I was so seized with inspiration I was late for dinner with some of the SF bunch before our monthly ASFS meeting.

After dinner we reconvened down at whatever they’re currently calling the hotel where Bubonicon 42 will be in a mere six weeks. It was time for the club’s annual bout of Science Fiction Outburst, which is a trivia game concerning … well, work it out.

At first I was going to sit out. But I felt like participating somehow, and when I learned there was no audience participation, and they called for one more volunteer for each side, I stepped up. I like to do my part for the club. Plus I’m a total ham. There’s that.

I was immediately commandeered by the team on my left. Which I only then realized consisted entirely of women: Kathy Kubica-Kelly, Jessica Coyle, Roslee Orndorff, and Harriet Engle. Hey, gotta like that ratio.

They promptly, and to my amusement (and flattery) dubbed themselves Vic’s Vixens. The other team opted, more simply if more enigmatically, for Bob.

At first blush we’d seem to enjoy an unfair advantage. First off, most of the ladies are trivia whizzes. And my personal brain is stuffed like a sofa with useless information, which I believe is what they call trivia.

The problem is, my memory is not working so well these days. I don’t think it’s shot, since I continue to recover mental function as well as physical things. I can hope, anyway. The key thing is, I’m not cracking out the answers at the rate I used to.

Which turned out to be okay. At the half we trailed by two points – a pleasant surprise, actually, since I had the distinct impression Bob was kicking our butts.

Because we were … vociferous … MC Craig Chrissinger and judge Kevin Hewett dubbed us “Vic’s Bitching Vixens.” (The other judge, Joe Lane, is a gentleman, and cast no such vile aspersions. Also, he’s the only one.) Which my feisty teammates promptly transmuted into Vic’s Bitchin’ Vixens. I’m glad they were on my side.

In spite of all, we somehow resurged in the second half to win. Go, Vic’s Vixens!

We’re supposed to celebrate every win, right? Plus, I mean, Vic’s Vixens. Hell, yeah.

The cake is not a lie

Victor — Sun, 11 Jul 2010 05:45:15 +0000

But I couldn’t have any of it, anyway.

Worse, there was flan. Flan! Didn’t have any of that, either. At least I have the gratification of knowing I preserved the sanctity of my blood sugar.

The bleak, cold, rocky-souled, Puritanical gratification. If one might call it that.

Went to a friend’s birthday party at Los Equipales restaurant (thanks, Roslee!) (And also, Happy Birthday!) Bunch of the usual ASFS suspects were on hand. Please accept my apologies that I don’t have energy to try to list you all. It was good to see you all. Food was good, too.

Then I came home to discover my pal Larry had left his sewer snake on my porch (thanks, Larry!) Sounds freakin’ awful, don’t it? But I was glad to see it. That … snake.

I’d asked him for help because my damn sewer is backing up, which was also a reason I was down but not out the other day.

So, I know what I’m doing tomorrow.

Christmas, with Metamorphosis

Victor — Sat, 12 Dec 2009 07:14:28 +0000

All you really need to know about the Albuquerque Science Fiction Society is summed up in the fact that we all thought the twistedly brilliant short film Franz Kafka’s It’s a Wonderful Life to be a perfect holiday movie.

You thought I was kidding, didn't you? Again.

It was brought to our Christmas meeting tonight by the incomparable Patricia Rogers – if you know her, that’s an of course – who had found it in a bargain bin in Target, of all places. Patricia has a great many gifts. An infallible affinity for the weird is definitely among them.

As well as the usual suspects, Melinda Snodgrass fell by for a few minutes at the beginning of the meeting. As always it was fun hanging with her.

Along with showing various short Christmas films (the rest were Rifftrax) tonight’s meeting was the occasion of our Annual Dessert Cook-Off. The “challenge ingredient” this year was coffee.

There were a number of wonderful goodies, both with coffee and without. I thought of adding some coffee to my red chile pumpkin soup, but desisted on the strong suspicion it would be vomitous. Despite containing brown sugar the soup’s not really a dessert; I brought it because, well, people kept asking me to. Which was quite flattering.

Unfortunately, and despite the fact that Randi Tinkham was kind and generous enough to lug her crock-pot all the way down from Santa Fe for me to warm the soup in, the stuff stayed ice-cold throughout most of the meeting. Some brave souls ate it cold. It’s not bad that way; it’s just better hot.

I didn’t win anything – as I dolefully predicted halfway through the meeting, the soup indeed got hot just about the time to wrap thigns up – but I didn’t really expect to. Under the circumstances more than I expected got eaten

When I was transferring the soup back to my kettle from the crock-pot I somehow managed to slop some onto the counter and onto me. Wonderful. Fortunately it wasn’t hot enough to napalm my legs.

However, on the way home I had to stop off to buy cat food at Wally World. As I went hit the bright lights inside I realized to my horror that I totally looked as if I had yarped all over my lower pants legs and shoes.

Then I consoled myself with the realization I was almost certainly not the only person in Wal-Mart at 10:30 on Friday night who looked as if they’d thrown up on their shoes. But I was the only one who looked that way and hadn’t.

We now conclude this evening’s presentation of TMI Theater…

Update: Snapshot of tonight’s SF club meeting:

Woman: Did you just say, “Shit, I’m a banana,” in German?

Me: Yes. Yes, I did.

Dogs who stare at men

Victor — Sat, 14 Feb 2009 09:14:17 +0000

John Miller‘s reading tonight was great. I knew it would be.

He was still upstaged by a special guest: he and his wife Gail brought Skippyjon, The Halloween Chihuahua. Who’s well-behaved, personable, and fearfully cute, and so was a huge hit.

see more puppies

Gail reminded me of something that happened last week when I was over at their house watching movies. As is my wont, I brought over chicken jerky treats for the sundry dogs who live there. I wound up with an extra, brought for a sometimes doggie visitor who failed to show.

So we’re in the middle of watching a weird Japanese movie (no, I mean, really weird, not all-Japanese-movies-are-weird weird.) Skipito, as she’s also known, hopped up on the sofa between me and John. She quickly discerned, presumably by smell, that I still had a treat in a Ziploc bag in my pocket, and set about rooting for it.

I told her, “No, honey, you’re not doing that.” So she refrained.

I watched the movie a little longer and then had the strangest situation. I looked down to discover Skippy was giving me the serious fish-eye.

It completely cracked me up. “She’s psychically willing me to give her the treat!’ I exclaimed.

And she was. She was sitting there just staring holes in me with those big, bulbous, slightly walled Chi-wow-wow eyes. I could see the balloon above her round little head, wherein she was obviously thinking: “You will give me the treat. You will give it to me now. You cannot resist the awesome might of Chihuahua Mind Control Powers!”

Then I gave her the treat.

“Well,” I told my hosts, “it worked.”

So, anyway. You should all hop over to John’s blog and bug him to hurry up and finish Black Train Coming. Actually, you should also bug him to update his blog opccasionally. Been like a year.

Then you should probably keep bugging me to finish the draft of The Dinosaur Lords very, very soon. If you would be so kind.

Oh. And happy that other day.

I hate puzzles

Victor — Fri, 13 Feb 2009 21:44:49 +0000

That’s not code or a euphemism or anything. Sorry. I just hate puzzles.

Screw you, Sudoku, and the horse you rode in on.

Why that should be I’ve no damned idea. In general I really love figuring things out. But as for puzzles per se, I suppose my attitude is, Oh, fucking get on with it.

If anyone can offer any suggestions as to why that might be so, I’d love to read them. Other than concluding I’m a pernicious featherhead and not worth bothering with any more. The only thing noteworthy about that being, why did it take you so long?

And remember: I never promised you profound.

On other topics: tonight I hie myself off to the Albuquerque Science Fiction Society monthly meeting at 7:30 PM at Some Stuff by Huff Studio, 5900 Domingo Rd, NE, Turkey-burg. Our feature for this evening will be Albuquerque’s own John Miller, or John Jos. Miller, as he styles himself these days to avoid confusion with all those other John Millers. He’ll be talking about, and if we’re luckier than we deserve reading from, his novel-in-progress, Black Train Coming.

It’s a wonderfully cool and original idea about Depression-era coal miners oppressed by vampires. I believe the vampire mine owners possess, yes, a black train. As naturally they would. Anyway I’m excited about it, and I’m pretty confident it’ll be huge, if he can just get himself to finish the damned thing.

(This isn’t something I’d know anything about – he said to rumbustious laughter from all those many fans and friends who’ve been listening to me promise to finish The Dinosaur Lords Any Day Now for the last six and a half years. Well, you’ll be laughing out the other side of your face soon – warning: don’t actually try to envision this; it’s gross – and I’ll shortly be able to provide a good example to Mr. John Jos. Miller. How’s that for out of character?)

Also, the people are fun, smart, and cool. If you’re in the Burque area you really might give a thought to falling by. If you’re not in the Burque area … well, you gotta sort out your own priorities.

And if you’re in the Burque area and thinking of dropping by my house to rip me off (talk about the game not being worth the candle!) – well, Emma Dog would be really, really happy to see you.

Especially the Chinese Monster Dog half of her.

Catch you tonight or catch you later! Peace out.

Oh – and a Happy Friday the 13^th to all! That’s the kind of holiday we roll with here. Heck with that Hallmark Card thing tomorrow.

A Pioneer Passes

Victor — Sat, 28 Jun 2008 20:58:31 +0000

I just learned by email that Jack Speer died overnight.

Jack was a member of First Fandom – the pioneers! – a mainstay of the Albuquerque Science Fiction Society, and a friend. He and his wife Ruth, who survives him, played gracious hosts to many a pleasant pre-Bubonicon party.

Sad news. Fandom in general and our Albuquerque fannish family are diminished. Jack is missed.

My condolences to Ruth and the children.

(I note that his death is already mentioned in his Wikipedia entry, linked to above.)