And you know what? It [...]]]> So last night I got to attend the exclusive “Cocktails with the Wild Cards Chic and Luminaries of the New Mexican League of Authors” party, hosted by our representative, SF and fantasy super-agent Kay McCauley, at the Hotel Santa Fe. (Which, it will surprise you to learn, is in Santa Fe.)

And you know what? It was swell. Even if we did get totally thrown out of the hotel for being rowdy.

Gail Gerstner-Miller and That American Tolkien Guy at dinner afterwards.

It does not suck to be me.

But since you get to share in it after the fact, as beloved friends and fans, it doesn’t suck to be you, either.

The guest list was appropriately stellar: George R. R, Martin and his wife Parris, Melinda M. Snodgrass, Ian Tregillis, James S. A. Corey and his lovely wives, Steven Gould and Laura Mixon, Kat and Daniel Abraham, Ty and Jayné Franck, Jayne’s brother-in-law Dan (I hope I got that right; had trouble hearing), Sage Walker and Hank Messinger, John Jos and Gail Gerstner-Miller, Rhea Golden and her friend Tyler, Pati Nagle and Chris Krohn, Jane Lindskold and Jim Moore. And, well, me.

(I apologize for not linking to the above luminaries’s sites. I need to learn to lavish less time on these damn blog posts. Maybe then I’d, you know, write more of them.)

John and Gail kindly drove me up through a lovely evening – it’s a pleasant drive anyway. And thanks to them kindly for hauling my mass up to Santa Fe and back. Not for the last time in this busy week o’ socializing – have I mentioned how much I love the freaking holidays?

The Hotel Santa Fe is a lovely place with an old-timey feel in downtown Santa Fe near the Plaza. Although given Santa Fe isn’t huge, “downtown” and “near the Plaza” are kinda redundant. Also, no matter how self-consciously quaint it is, downtown Santa Fe is darned pretty. Plus some places had Christmas lights up already – which, Grinches notwithstanding, I love. In fact I hope to get to Santa Fe sometime in December to see their Christmas display in full glory. Although not enough to miss Christmas Eve here in Albuquerque, which I love.

So this was the second time I’ve met our hostess Kay in person, and the first since she became my agent and sold The Dinosaur Lords for me. Also the first time she’s seen me since I became … half the man I used to be (and a far better man because of it!) She professed herself favorably impressed with the change. For which I thanked her.

She happened to be hanging with her client Ian when I came in. She bragged on his current novel project, which she termed “brilliant” and unlike anything we’ve seen. I agreed and whined that he hadn’t sent in any more to our writers group. He claimed he would. (And I’m holding you to that, Tregillis, you son of a bearded mountebank*, you!)

She also bragged some on the prospects for The Dinosaur Lords (hint: she thinks highly of them. As do I.) She told me she’s talking to the foreign rights people next week. So please: fingers crossed!

And … a wonderful time was had by all.

Or by me, anyway. And everyone else seemed to be enjoying their danged selves.

I am learning to enjoy as much of my life as possible (short form: I reckon that’s the damned point.) But I enjoyed this fandango as much as I’ve enjoyed anything of late. Including Pat Rogers’ and Scott Denning’s Halloween Party, which is the best thing ever.

The key thing is that, along with being the Science Fiction and Fantasy Capital of the Known Universe, NM boasts a very tight-knit bunch of writers – and not just the Original Wild Cards Mafiosi. For all practical purposes, they, the fans, and a few others constitute my family.

Plus, for some reason, they tend to be … kind of interesting people to talk to.

So we all chatted and drank from the open bar – I hit the ice water and the Diet Coke particularly hard, but then, I wasn’t driving – and the snacks they laid out. Thew few items of which I was able to eat (that low-starch, low-sugar thing) were highly tasty.

So then they had to close up the room. So those of us who remained, which was most of us, wound up gathered in the hallway outside chattering away. Until a hotel functionary politely and firmly threw us out because our rowdiness was disturbing the Native American flute player in the lounge.

At the moment Parris and John were outside chatting. When I came out and gave them the news, Parris triumphantly crowed, “Thirty-five years in fandom and we can still bring it!”

Indeed.

Next, with Parris as our trusty guide – Santa Fe is notoriously difficult to navigate; and since it’s been almost half a century since I lived there, I was no damned help – we went off for dinner, also downtown (hence, near the Plaza.) Our first destination turned out to be closed until March – inconsiderate of them – so we wound up at the San Francisco Street Bar & Grill. Which turned out to be pretty good. Also – which is astonishing for Santa Fe – the prices were reasonable, for pretty substantial portions. While they seemed a bit nonplussed by the sudden onset of a mob of mostly middle-aged SF writers and their friends and significants other, they managed to take us in stride.

They didn’t throw us out, anyway. Although we were still adequately raucous. Because that’s how we roll.

(Click the image up top to check out my modest set of photos commemorating the event on Flickr. Or just click here. The reason there are no pictures of the party proper is that I forgot I had a nifty new camera until Gail and Parris started comparing theirs at dinner.)

We announced ourselves to the waiter as SF writers. He asked who the Trekkers among us were. While none of us would cop to that, John and Gail pointed out that I’d written an Original Trek novel. (Wait! It’s available on Kindle? Why wasn’t I told of this? Also, where are my royalties? Dammit!)

And when Parris told him Melinda had written the Next Generation episode “The Measure of a Man,” he almost died of squee (yes, I can write that; I am a professional), and wasted no time shaking her hand.

Even the wandering Cuban trio managed to come to terms with us. They even bravely assayed the Grateful Dead’s “Friend of the Devil,” after Gail, Parris, and I gave them some help by singing the lyrics. If “help” is what you want to call it.

Then … we all came home, and are presumably all living happily ever after!

Most emphatically not The End. Stay tuned for the continuing adventures of me and my madcap friends!

*When I read that on his website – which, seriously, you should visit; it’s breathtaking – I thought he was being facetious. Then he told me he really is the son of a bearded mountebank. Indeed do many things come to pass.

High. On, yes, a new thing.

The little health embarrassment – that minor unable to breathe thing, you know – has cleared up muchly thanks to, well, drugs. Plus clean living, I suppose, but its not as if that’s all [...]]]> So it’s been a bit of a rough ride. Sorry to’ve slipped out of touch.

High. On, yes, a new thing.

The little health embarrassment – that minor unable to breathe thing, you know – has cleared up muchly thanks to, well, drugs. Plus clean living, I suppose, but its not as if that’s all voluntary.

In there just make things interesting I caught a stomach bug. That cleared up too. My weight then took an alarming upward turn, which may or may not have had anything to do with the meds – although I have not changed the eating and exercise habits that have kept me slowly but surely losing weight since I got home from my trifling misadventure a year and a half ago. Although admittedly I let the exercise slip some – again, surprising how problematic not being able to breathe (or sleep) makes that. Then again the weight uptick happened after I’d started exercising more, so who knows?

Anyway, the weight has now, at least for today, dropped back to … less unsatisfactory levels. (Mind you we’re talking about a total swing of about seven pounds, which is still radical enough to rattle my cage, since I’m used to no more than maybe three pounds up after setting a new low.)

Also, what with this thing and that thing, I’ve let myself get behind in the writing. Of which I’ve a mess to write. And, uh, well, rewrite.

And, as with the walking (with Emma Dog, of course!), and the kettlebell swings, I’m finally picking back up on the writing. Yay.

So, after all that preamble, back to the titular New Thing on which I am professedly High.

Not drugs; I don’t do recreational chemicals beyond what you find in a cup o hot chocolate, and that sugar free. And while they are controlled, or at least prescription only (for reasons, most likely, having far more to do with other people’s finances than our health), the drugs I am on are not particularly entertaining.

Nope, it’s the latest version of what’s already become a low-starch standby for me: this flaxseed “foccacia” bread. As I mentioned earlier, it’s a tad bland, but it’s still pretty successfully bread-like. Recently my good friend Roslee Orndorff gave me a bag of almond flour to try out – it’s also low-starch (and low-sugar), being just ground-up almonds, and hence low glycemic load.

The “fauxccacia” recipe calls for two cups of ground flaxseed. So I subbed half a cup of the almond flour for half a cup of that. I did not get to try it when it was nice and hot, but had some yesterday, both regular and toasted.

And … it’s pretty good. has a bit more flavor – bit more body, maybe. Also feels a little less gritty. Now, it has a bit of a nasty, cheesy smell when it’s actually toasting – the straight flax bread doesn’t smell all that fantastic, either. But it tastes good. Better than the more-than-acceptable original.

So, great! Got a new weapon in my low-GL arsenal! The craving for breads is a tough one to get past. And bread-like foods are good for, um, leavening the slightly stark meat-and-veggies regimen I follow.

(And, yes. That is what I’m high about. A new, improved bread substitute. And yes, I have … modest standards for getting high.  Deal.)

Meanwhile, I need to get back to writing I, you know, get paid for. There are also some subsidiary things to do that will in the fullness of time show up here on the blog.

Such as, I am contractually required to produce a map for The Dinosaur Lords. And I am actually mastering my Campaign Cartographer 3 (CC3) software to the extent of finally being in process of converting my crude sketch of the Tyrant’s Head and the Empire of Nuevaropa into something legible. As well as digital, hence transmissible.

So you can expect to catch that soon.

Also, expect to see further installments of my handy and informative An Adventurer’s Guide to the Dinosaurs of Paradise, which I see I’ve sadly neglected.

And finally, I will ere long toss up two moresenses-shattering free sample chapters of The Dinosaur Lords for your entertainment and edification. Which will still amount to, oh, rather less than 5% of the majestic whole. They don’t call it epic fantasy for nothing, kids.

Which means I best hop back to producing the real stuff now. And you know what that means:

As always, thanks for reading!

Could happen!

Or maybe I totally will. Depends on what’ll get me the biggest audience reaction. Because that’s just how I roll.

To find out which I do, click this handy link to check out my con schedule.

Of course having done so (does anybody else hate screwing [...]]]> Come see me at Bubonicon and I won’t do this*:

Could happen!

Or maybe I totally will. Depends on what’ll get me the biggest audience reaction. Because that’s just how I roll.

To find out which I do, click this handy link to check out my con schedule.

Of course having done so (does anybody else hate screwing with pdf files as much as I do?) you’ll notice right you’re not seeing just my schedule. Because you’re smarter than other people, which is why you read this blog.

And I know, right? You’re wondering why they’d clutter up the beautiful simplicity and symmetry of my schedule with all that extraneous stuff, like panels and auctions and Guest of Honor presentations. Because I’m a big guy, though, I am able to admit: there’s a lot of cool people attending and stuff going on that isn’t me.

But this is still about me. Because it’s my blog. And because you’re reading it, you’ll be gratified to know that if you search the pdf for “victor” you will find me! At least, when my location can be determined by science. Which, thank Heisenberg, isn’t that frequently.

Just a quick rundown, for the pdf-impatient (or challenged):

Friday, August 26th at 5:00 PM in the Main Room – Chaco – which everything will be unless otherwise specified – I’ll be moderating a panel called NAME THAT BABY: Fantasy, SF, Mainstream? Or None of the Above? Panelists will be Suzy M. Charnas, Betsy James, Stephen Leigh, and David Lee Summers.

Then at 9:30 PM (because sleep is for the weak, baby!) I’m doing FOR THE LOVE OF CHEESE with those kill-crazy kids from Cheese Magnet, a blog celebrating all things B-movie and pulp culture. Which they omit to have me write for, so I’m taking my participation here as a signal honor. And also a sign that they don’t have enough actual contributors available to flesh out a panel. But they do have Scott Denning, John Jos. Miller, moderated by the Cheese Monster himself, Scott Phillips! This isn’t in the Main Room, as it happens, but in Bandelier. No, I have no more idea where it is than you do. But I’ll find it! So what’s your excuse?

Next up, Saturday, August 27th, 1:00 PM:  RE-INVENTING YOURSELF: The Use of Pseudonyms with Ty Franck, Stephen Leigh, and Carrie Vaughn. Moderator: Daniel Abraham.

Then, huh, I lied – turns out if you search for “victor” you also get STEAMPUNK DEFINITIONS: More than Victorian Clothing at 3:00 PM. Which, given that you’re attending a con whose theme is Steampunk, probably ought not surprise you. Then again, given you’re attending a Steampunk-themed con, it might also be of interest to you.

But back to me … and, well, everybody: MASS AUTOGRAPHING SESSION, 4:00 PM. Yes, including that guy. (As I said yesterday … what could possibly go wrong?)

7:00 PM it’s the Big Showpiece: the BUBONICON COSTUME CONTEST, Emceed by me! Got some great costumes and fun presentations here, people! You really oughta come. You might even get to see me vamped by hot babes! (Which should at least make you happy on my account, yes?)

Onto Sunday, August 28th (already?): 1:30 PM, back in Bandelier (nope, still no idea): it’s 25 MINUTES WITH VICTOR MILÁN. Wait! That’s me! As the name suggests, it’s 25 minutes in which you, the audience, subject yourselves to whatever happens to come out of my face. Which, I dunno – you think – may possibly concern … dinosaurs? Indeed it might even entail a reading from the first volume of my epic fantasy trilogy, The Dinosaur Lords, due out from Tor at the beginning of 2013!

After that it’s pretty much over for the shouting. Thanks for coming out, hope you enjoyed yourselves, be sure to tip your authors bartenders and servers, drive safely, and see you all next year!

And naturally – thanks for reading!

*Full disclosure: Craig Calcaterra linked to this image today over on HardballTalk, and I get such a colossal hoot out of it I had to inflict it upon share it with my beloved fans and friends!

So I finally nerved myself to go over the contracts for The Dinosaur Lords.  (I admit I was giving in to fear some, here – a habit I am working diligently to break, and making fine progress overall. Still, obviously I am still no [...]]]> … And it’s almost two and a half months yet to Halloween!

So I finally nerved myself to go over the contracts for The Dinosaur Lords.  (I admit I was giving in to fear some, here – a habit I am working diligently to break, and making fine progress overall. Still, obviously I am still no hummingbird.) Also, I got together with a lawyer who was kind enough to skim through them for me.

So, first off, they weren’t bad. More straightforward than I expected, even if that was a straightforward 29 pages. As anticipated, there were some changes from the standard contract since the last time I sold a book that was purely mine (far longer ago than I’m even going to spend any more time remembering!)

Few of them, as you might imagine, are to the author’s advantage. We need to talk about that. Later.

So, anyway, I did have some issues. Most merely amount to clarifications. There is one issue, though, that’s a pretty major one – something I simply can’t afford to sign off on as it stands.

(I’ve decided not to go  into specifics, here. Hard to see how I’ll increase my hassles or cost myself money by not running my face about negotiations publicly.)

Now my Agent – who has been completely good and kind throughout the whole process – suggests that the interpretation of my Big Sticking Point is not as dire as I fear. While I understand prevailing industry practices can be taken into account when contractual disputes are adjudicated, you can’t have two of your best friends be lawyers for years and not be keenly aware that the contract is what the words in it say. And I don’t like what these particular words say.

In one of her replies – I think she’s kindly trying to reassure me, even as she’s busily tending other duties – The Agent seems to suggest that some of her other clients, including some wielding significantly weightier names than mine (not that that’s all that hard at this point) have signed-off on similar terms without demur. If that’s correct it doesn’t reassure me that some of my friends have been so imprudent, candidly.

So where we stand is … bit of an impasse, until these matters get dealt with. Given that the Tor contract department got the contracts to me for what the contract itself calls an Agreement made May 2nd last week, it could take a while to work out. Uncomfortable. I want this done. I also want us – the Agent and me – to get paid as soon as possible.

And as I wrote in my initial response to the contracts, “this is one of the most momentous events in my now 57 years of life, not to mention my almost 37 years as a professional writer of fiction. I need to get this right.”

I couldn’t've put it better myself. Oh – right.

So thanks for sticking by me, friends and fans! I’ll keep you posted.

(So, I start off a lot of sentences and paragraphs saying, “so.” So that’s my blogging style. So deal.)

I have just accepted an offer from Tor Books to buy a little thing I like to call The Ballad of Karyl’s Last Quest: A Romance in Three Volumes.

And you know what that means.

You’re more used to seeing me refer to it by the title of Volume the [...]]]> Listen up, my beloved friends and readers!

I have just accepted an offer from Tor Books to buy a little thing I like to call The Ballad of Karyl’s Last Quest: A Romance in Three Volumes.

And you know what that means.

You’re more used to seeing me refer to it by the title of Volume the First: The Dinosaur Lords.

Here’re my proposed titles for all three books of this epic, epic fantasy trilogy:

1. The Dinosaur Lords
2. The Dinosaur Princes
3. The Dinosaur Kings.

Subject to change according to all kinds of things. Including my whim.

That’s it, kids.  A long era draws to a close. A new – and grander – one dawns.

Thanks for your love and support. On this and everything.

And now we’re all going to be part of something really cool together!

And began a new life. In what amounted to a new house.

On February 27th, 2010, I went to the emergency room, and from there into UNM Hospital. Along with life-threatening physical conditions (at least three, in fact) I was diagnosed as suffering from [...]]]> A year ago I came back from a very dark place, speaking figuratively.

And began a new life. In what amounted to a new house.

On February 27th, 2010, I went to the emergency room, and from there into UNM Hospital. Along with life-threatening physical conditions (at least three, in fact) I was diagnosed as suffering from severe clinical depression.

As part of that I’d let my house as well as my body and psyche go to pot. It had been subsumed, as I had myself, in clutter and grime I was no longer even physically able to control. It was hypothesized, while the doctors were searching for the source of the abscess in my right lung that caused the pneumonia that sent me to the e-room,  that the state of my house might have caused the infection. It turned out it hadn’t; that was an abscess in my jaw that I wasn’t even aware of.

But the deplorable state of my house had certainly contributed to my physical decline. And contributed powerfully to the feedback loop of mental and emotional decline.

So my friends banded together to fix it. From my very closest friends to people I never thought of as feeling particularly close to me (although all were friendly acquaintances at least) they performed a miracle of protracted, arduous labor: they reclaimed my house. They purged and cleaned it; one friend subsequently estimated it had taken about 400 human-hours of work.

They and others from across the country also contributed financially to repairing both my house and my me. Some ran online fundraisers. Friends also saw to my pets, temporarily taking in TJ and Squeak and paying to board Emma until I was well enough for my animal kids to rejoin me. That generosity, too, was astounding.

So … instead of a literally overwhelming mess that would have crushed my spirit (and probably made me physically ill again, whether or not it had the first time) I returned to a beautiful house, pristine and nearly good as new.

It was wonderful. I was overcome with awe and gratitude.

I remain so today.

And how am I now, a year into my new life?

Long made short: overall, better than I have in years. Emotionally as well as physically. And getting better all the time.

The severe clinical depression was pronounced cured after a period of therapy last summer. I concurred. I am not entirely sure how I got here, but I am no longer in that particular dark place mentally or physically.

Thursday I went back for my one-year recheck with the surgeon who cleaned up the lung abscess. He pronounced my X-rays “perfect” and my sundry wounds well healed. He said that, barring some unexpected change in my state, he didn’t need to see me again. It was the proverbial clean bill of halth.

My blood sugar remains under control, staying pretty much in the normal range.

When I went into the hospital I weighed, as near as I can gather, around 285 pounds. I wrote a year ago that it “had ballooned near 270″ – but I seem to recall that the last time I weighed myself, some weeks before going into the hospital, my weight was already above 275. And it continued to increase, as an effect of my out-of-control (and then-unknown) Type II diabetes.

My weight as of yesterday was 197.2 pounds. It’s the lowest I’ve weighed in the last 20 years, matching my low of late-summer 1997.

Most days I’m doing kettlebell swings and one-arm push-ups (still at an incline, though I’m working my way up to the real deal.) I’ve walked almost every day for the past month or two, and walked two miles a day for at least the past week, and only missed one day in the last two weeks or even more.

In terms of my career: well, you know about a little project I finally finished known as The Dinosaur Lords. There’s the Seekrit Projekt I still can’t tell you about (sorry!) And, since the check cleared the bank, I can tell you I’m also embarked on writing the first of a contract for three more novels in the Deathlands series.

So, not so bad on that front, akshully. Indeed, exciting things are happening; I hope to have some news quite soon. I’ll keep you posted; please keep your fingers crossed.

On other fronts – well, I’m keeping my house up fairly well. It needs dusted again; I’ll get to that. It’s unlikely I’ll ever be a whiz at housework but I’m maintaining.

I’m getting out more, meeting new people, doing more things.

I have learned some key things about myself that have enabled me to break the habits of thought that had conduced to, if not brought on, the decline which led to the clinical depression.

Obviously, I have a lot more to improve, a lot more to learn, a lot more to achieve. I don’t expect those things to change as long as I live: perfection is a goal ever to be aimed at, but ever to be mistaken for a thing which can actually be attained.

I remain, as I say, grateful to and in awe of my amazing friends. I never expect that to change, either. I can never repay what they did for me. But I will do what I can.

What I am doing, I believe I can fairly say, is making the most of the gift they gave me. I am learning to live a happy life. I am writing marvelous stories, as I was meant to do. Many of my benefactors have told me these were in fact  the gifts they intended to give me; and that I at least reward their efforts by doing my part to do those things.

To all who helped, I say, now and forever: thank you.

You will note I have not named my friends and benefactors. I have a dilemma. I literally don’t even know who all of them are. Some I don’t remember, but some I don’t know about. Indeed some have asked their identities not even be divulged to me.

I can’t bear slighting anyone. So I’ve chosen to express my gratitude generally.

More than anything I want to do the right thing – do right by those who quite literally saved my life – and made it, and make it, worth living. So if you have any comments or suggestions as to how to proceed, please share them with me. Please.

On February 27th this year I never once thought about what happened to me a year before. I find that a Very Good Thing.

So, Happy March 20th! It’s my (Re)Birthday. I intend to celebrate it every year.

And since you’re reading this – thank you.

Now: more dinosaurs!

Fatty:

Protoceratops andrewsi

This tubby critter is the analogue to pigs and sheep (no wool-gathering on Paradise, kiddies!) The Wikipedia entry describes them as a little bigger than I remembered: 6 feet [...]]]> First off, two new inductees to Victor’s Dinosaur Army Roll of Honor: Brooks Powell and Nan Silvernail. Thanks for boosting the book, kids!

Now: more dinosaurs!

Fatty:

Protoceratops andrewsi

This tubby critter is the analogue to pigs and sheep (no wool-gathering on Paradise, kiddies!) The Wikipedia entry describes them as a little bigger than I remembered: 6 feet long, two feet high at the shoulder, not quite 400 pounds. Still, the ones I describe here in the Prologue of The Dinosaur Lords free preview, and refer to throughout the book are slightly larger models – maybe eight feet, three feet high, up to 800 pounds. I call them Protoceratops robusti.

The dinosaurs of Paradise are all real dinosaurs – or at least ones science believes, as of March, 2011, to have been real. Protoceratops were real; my childhood hero Roy Chapman Andrews turned ‘em up in Mongolia in 1922. P. robusti is a hypothetical larger subspecies.

That’s one explanation. Another is that they started out as standard-issue P. andrewsi and got bred up for beef. Or, well, pork. Heft, in any event. Paradisiacal domestic dinosaurs tend to be about as easy to breed to spec as dogs. Which is why the war-duckbills you’ll be encountering straightaway in Chapter 01 tend to come in so many gaudy colors.

Next -

Plate-back:

Stegosaurus stenops

One of everybody’s childhood favorites, right? Good old Stegosaurus!

If you think I’m kidding about the Thagomizer in the mouseover up there (you do always check the mouseover, yes?), click here.

On to other news … you’ll notice – boy, will you notice – that I’ve handily provided ways for you to link your favorite posts and pages on Digg, StumbleUpon, and many more. Indeed, I apologize for the buttons’ being so danged noticeable. The Tweet This software I use to produce them is reluctant to display changed settings.

I shall persevere. It’s what I do. (Among other things, granted.)

Anyway, should you feel moved to do so, please feel free to promulgate your favorite Sense of Adventure posts and pages using those handy (if overt) buttons! Doing so, (especially with the free Dinosaur Lords preview) is a great way to improve your chances of being able to hold your own copy of the novel in your hot little hand – soon.

Thanks for your help – as well as your faith in bearing with me through lo!, the many years wandering the wilderness of no, really, I’ll finish the draft someday!

And as always – thanks for reading!