My Origins 2013 Schedule

As I mentioned in my post yesterday—HEROES! Anthology Information—I’ll be attending Origins Game Fair in Columbus, OH from June 12-16. The theme of this year’s convention is “Superheroes” and, no, I will not be dressed in any sort of superhero outfit. My nine-year-old son, however, may show up one day in his Ironman costume.

This will be my third year participating in The Library program at Origins. The Library is a section of the floor dedicated to authors of all sorts, but mostly those in the speculative fiction (fantasy, sci-fi) arena. People can come in, chat with the authors, get books signed, sit down in a chair because their feet are tired. Whatever.

The attending author list seems to grow every year, both in number and luminosity. This year’s group:

Patrick Rothfuss
Michael A. Stackpole
Timothy Zahn
Aaron Allston
Bradley P. Beaulieu
Maxwell Alexander Drake
Aaron Rosenberg
Jaym Gates
Me
Jennifer Brozek
Donald Bingle
Bryan Young
Sarah Hans
Janine Spendlove
Tracy Chowdery
Sheryl Nantus
Pat Tomlinson
Kelly Swails
Addie J. King
Dylan Birtolo
Gregory Wilson
Steven Saus
Daniel Myers

Beyond The Library, panels comprised of these same authors run—all day, every day, on the hour—in two of the convention hall’s rooms. The topics run the gamut. Some are serious, others are a bit more tongue-in-cheek, but they all loosely tie back to writing.

A couple example titles from this year’s tract:

Crafting the Love Scene
Principles of Medieval Cooking
Schrödinger’s Plot
Sexism: How much is too much?
Good Guys Wear Black Hats

Some of them can be quite intimate with only 10-20 attendees in the audience.

This year, my schedule is as follows:

Thursday:
11:00 AM:  Military Tactics with Janine Spendlove, Dylan Birtolo, R. T. Kaelin, Don Bingle
Military science fiction writers aren't the only ones who need to know the ins and outs of the military. Our panelists will help you brush up on the basics and tell you how much detail you need.

6-8 PM: Group Reading with Steve Saus, Janine Spendlove, Bryan Young, R.T. Kaelin
I’m not sure what I’m going to read. Probably a short story excerpt or two.

Friday:
11:00 AM: The myth of Writer's Block with Pat Tomlinson, R.T. Kaelin, Don Bingle, Addie J. King, Bryan Young
Have you faced a malevolent force that prevents you from finishing your manuscript? How can you defeat the dark power that keeps your fingers motionless on the keyboard and your brain in neutral? Our panelists have battled this dreaded demon, and they’ll teach you how to best it.

Saturday:
11:00 AM: Writing the Trilogy with Timothy Zahn, Brad Beaulieu, Pat Rothfuss, RT Kaelin, Sheryl Nantus
Is there more to your story than can fit into one book? Or is it the other way around—do you have too much material for your tale and need to cut a few hundred pages? Our panelists will tackle trilogies and open-ended series, including how to approach writing the multi-part saga and how to market it.

12:00 PM: A Rose By Any Other Name with Dylan Birtolo, Aaron Rosenberg, RT Kaelin, Tracy Chowdery, Mike Stackpole
Sure, it might smell as sweet, but what about a book title? You better have something with punch so the reader will pluck it off the shelf. A title with zing can entice an editor or slush reader to give your story a look, too. A good name can also make your heroes and villains memorable and help define their character. We discuss the fine are of naming.

3:00 PM: Self-publishing by Bryan Young, RT Kaelin
A checklist of the hundred odd tasks you’ll have to do yourself if you don’t have a publisher doing it for you. And how much it could all cost.

As of now, that’s it. More than likely, I might sit in on a couple panels here and there if the other authors do not mind. I have my eye on a couple topics on Friday afternoon and some on Sunday.

Hope to see you there.

HEROES! Anthology Information

In a couple weeks, I will be at Origins Game Fair in Columbus, OH (June 12-16, 2013), the theme of which is “Superheroes.”

The author list at The Library this year is an impressive one:

Patrick Rothfuss (Yup. Him.)

Michael Stackpole

Timothy Zahn

Aaron Allston

Bradley P. Beaulieu

Maxwell Alexander Drake

I’ll do a post tomorrow detailing The Library, the full list of authors you can meet, and my panel schedule.

This post is to share a bit about this year’s Origins anthology titled HEROES!

Edited by Kelly Swails and with cover art is by Ed Beard Jr., HEROES! has original stories from XX authors, many of whom will be at Origins. This is a limited edition anthology (only 400 will be printed!) and will retail at the convention for $10. If you’re going to be at Origins, pick one up, bring it by The Library, and each author will sign their story in it.

First, the cover:

 The Gamer God

Ed had this to say about the art on Facebook:

I have titled this painting "The Gamer God" as you may note there are many hidden and subtle game elements alongside the more obvious mighty D20 hammer!!

I will have limited editions large prints of this available at Origins at my corner booth in the exhibit hall art show area. I will also be please to autograph the cover with my art if one so desires.

Next, the table of contents:

Green Room	Aaron Allston
Hero’s Final Walk	Timothy Zahn
The Raven	Maxwell Alexander Drake
He Was A Marvelous Man	Janine K. Spendlove
A Blank Canvas	Patrick S. Thomlinson
Waking Up	Dylan Birtolo
Fellow Traveler	Donald J. Bingle
By the Seat of Your Pants	Sheryl Nantus
Invincible	Sarah Hans
Blue Boy	Daniel Myers
Bloom	Bradley P. Beaulieu
Memories Like Crystal Shards	Jennifer Brozek
The Caretaker of Mire	Gregory A. Wilson
The Commodore	Bryan Young
Sunny Acres Home of the Specialized Care of the Elderly	Addie J. King
A Fixed State	Aaron Rosenberg
Interview	R. T. Kaelin
By Blood and Fang and Song, We Call You	Jaym Gates
Bindings	Steven Saus
Cheshire Moon	Tracy Chowdhury
The One Where the Dad Dies	Kelly Swails
Field Trip	Michael A. Stackpole

And finally, a bit about my contribution to this anthology.

A somewhat tongue-in-cheek sort of story, “Interview” introduces us to young, wholly unglamorous Alex Butterworth (yes, there are syrup jokes). Currently working at the local Save-n-Shop where he bags groceries, Alex responds to an advertised job posting that he thinks is to be an assistant for the city’s greatest superhero: Lawman. The interview does not go as planned.

I had a lot of fun writing this short. Most of you know me as an epic fantasy author, so it was refreshing to break out of the genre and do something entirely different. In fact, I had so much fun writing Alex, that when approached by a someone (I can’t say who) to contribute a story to another anthology (I can’t say what), I continued the adventures of Alex.

So, without further ado, here’s a quick excerpt from the 4900 word short, “Interview”:

As Alex glanced about the crowded lobby, a tiny sigh slipped from his lips. There were way too many people here, all of whom were obviously more qualified than him. None more so than the young Adonis sitting in the chair across from him.

Six-foot, four inches, lean, muscular, and ridiculously good-looking. The only thing more chiseled than his arms and chest was his jaw. His hair was the color of autumn wheat and perfectly coifed atop his head. His eyes were bluer than the waters of the Caribbean. His suit probably cost more than Alex made in six months at the Save-n-Shop.

Adonis—it seemed as fitting a nickname as any—glanced up from his leather briefing folder, his stupid, perfect blue eyes fixing on Alex. “Can I help you?”

Alex gave a quick shake of his head. “Ah, no…I…” He paused, searching for a reason to explain his apparent infatuation. Looking to the leather case in Adonis’ lap, he said, “I was admiring your portfolio.”

The man glanced down to his lap before looking back to Alex. “Thank you. It’s a Pianki.”

“It’s very nice.”

“I know,” said the man, cocking an eyebrow. “It’s a Pianki.”

“Oh, a Pianki,” said Alex. “I thought you said…” He trailed off, unable to think of something that sort of sounded like Pianki, whatever the hell a Pianki was. After a few moments, Alex held up his dog-eared case. “Goodwill. Twelve bucks.”

Adonis’ gaze shifted to the worn, discolored leather case. With more sarcasm than Alex thought possible to stuff into a single word, the man said, “Stunning.” He dropped his gaze to his Pianki, and continued reading whatever the hell he had been before.

Alex sighed. Shaking his head, he muttered to himself, “Why am I here?”

This entire endeavor was a lark. He had been packing bags at the Save-n-Shop when an elderly gentleman bought, but forgot to take, yesterday’s copy of Metro News. Since Alex’s shift was almost over and his TV was on the fritz at home, he grabbed the paper and took it with him. He was not much of a reader—discounting the back of cereal boxes—but paging through the newspaper was better than staring at the walls in his one bedroom flat.

Halfway into his bowl of mac-n-cheese—made with water, the milk had been spoiled—he flipped to page four in the Metro section, chuckling at the fact that the Metro News had a Metro section. There, on page five, taking up half the lower page was an advertisement. It seemed that Lawman, the greatest superhero the city had ever known, was going to be holding interviews for an assistant. The starting weekly pay listed was ten times what Alex made in a month. Requirements listed: impress Lawman.

For some reason—some stupid, dumb, idiotic reason—Alex had shown up at 8:00 AM and had been greeted by a crowd of men and women infinitely more impressive than him. He had almost turned around and gone home. After all, today was his day off and there was a SpongeBob marathon on. Yet for some idiotic reason he could not explain, he had stayed.

Alex glanced at his watch. His eyes narrowed.

1:37

That was the same time it was last time he looked. Twisting around to stare at the massive, iron clock hanging suspended on the wall behind him, he frowned. “Damn it.”

2:48

Not only had he been sitting here for almost seven hours—without lunch—his watch was busted. This day kept getting better and better.

“Forget this.”

Placing both hands on the armrests, he stood tall from his chair.

Adonis glanced at him, a tiny smirk on his face, stared back to his Pianki binder, and muttered, “Thanks for coming.”

Alex would have liked to have done something to wipe that stupid look off Adonis’ face, but he did not want to show up at work with a black eye tomorrow. Or two. Nevertheless, a sharp-tongued retort seemed safe.

“Screw—”

The large, double mahogany doors on the wall to the right opened, the thud and rattle drawing the gaze of everyone in the room. A young woman, petite, with glasses and the body of gymnast, sprinted through them and the room, her lips pressed tight. She swept past Alex, nearly knocking him to his seat in the process.  At the rate she was moving, he half-expected her to do a back handspring before leaving the lobby.

“Next!” boomed a deep baritone.

Looking back to the mahogany doors, Alex spotted the same giant of a man who had called in every other candidate so far. Six-foot-eight, an easy two-hundred-sixty pounds, bald head, black shades, and a pressed suit that was probably more expensive than Adonis’ was.

The man looked at the clipboard in his hand—it looked like what a playing card would in Alex’s—lifted his head, and called, “Alex Buttertwerp!”

Alex shut his eyes, tight, as a quiet chuckle ran throughout the room. He considered just walking out the door and letting the room enjoy the moment when ‘Alex Buttertwerp’ applied to be Lawman’s assistant. Yet again, however, for some stupid, dumb, and idiotic reason, he raised his hand.

“Here.”

Opening his eyes, he found everyone in the room staring at him, smiles on their faces. Adonis looked as if he wanted to burst out laughing.

The giant in the doorway said, “You’re Alex Buttertwerp?”

“No…”

The truth was worse.

Moving through the room, toward the door, Alex said, “I believe the receptionist got my name wrong. My name is Alex Butterworth. Not…Buttertwerp.”

Eyebrows climbed from behind the man’s sunglasses. “Like the syrup?”

Another, slightly louder chuckle ran through the room.

Sighing, Alex conceded, “Yes. Like the syrup.”

“Ah,” muttered the man. To his credit, he did not laugh. Scribbling something on his clipboard, he said, “Follow me, please,” and moved into the hall. “Close the doors behind you.”

That's it for now. Hope to see you at Origins...

Urban Fantasy Flash Fiction Accident

A couple nights ago, I saw a post on Facebook by Tim Marquitz (http://tmarquitz.com), dark fantasy author and nice guy. I “met” Tim virtually when I was putting together the Triumph Over Tragedy anthology back in December.

Turns out Tim was spearheading an effort for an Urban Fantasy anthology. Here’s the write up for it at Tim’s blog:

The time has come to make a statement, to define a genre. This is our manifesto.

I’m looking for urban fantasy stories that leap from the pages, full of action, snark, and unadulterated badassery. Beyond a contemporary/urban setting, there are no thematic guidelines for this anthology. My goal is to challenge the kings and queens of the genre, to rattle the foundations of the UF world. If you think you have that story, I’d love to see it.

Now, I’ve written exactly zero urban fantasy, but I thought perhaps I might give it a shot. You know, stretch the legs a little. I have two superhero stories coming out in anthologies this summer, so…why not?

Only there’s a problem. The submissions closed that night at midnight. Ah well.

At that moment, I had just wrapped up outlining a new project and didn’t want to start into a chapter on book 3 that I knew I wouldn’t finish, so I challenged myself to write a short flash fiction urban fantasy piece. And as I have no place whatsoever to submit it, I thought I’d put it up here.

Enjoy. Or not.  

There are worse things than being stabbed in the gut with a misfiring charge-blade. For instance, having that happen and then being shoved off the penthouse balcony of a forty-story building.

You see, asphalt is hard. Very hard.

Which is why I’m doing my damnedest to get this ever-loving nightwolf directly between me and Fifth Avenue’s snarled taxis and Gucci-bag-toting snobs before we reach the ground.

However, he—she?—hell, it isn’t cooperating, twisting and turning, snapping at me with teeth that I swear were bequeathed by a Great White. As I have an aversion to having any part of me no longer attached to…well, me, I do my best to avoid the beast’s maw.

Office windows whip by as we plummet. Most are like glossy black mirrors while a few are lit from within, the nighttime cleaning crew inside vacuuming away in blissful ignorance of the danger threatening them all.

 
A jolt from the charge-blade—did I mention the damn thing is misfiring?—and I involuntarily ball my fists, ripping out two handfuls of wiry nightwolf hair in the process. The impromptu trim triggers a bout of hapless yelping from the hellspawn. I have a four-inch blade of corporeal magic—which, again, is misfiring—lodged under my ribs, and this mongrel is whining like kicked puppy?

Wimp.

Taking advantage of the distraction, I flip Rover onto his—sorry—its back with only twenty feet to spare. A quick blast of force magic right before we slam into a taxi’s hood saves me from becoming red mush. The nightwolf, however, crunches into the cab’s yellow metal. The windshield shatters along with most of the beast’s bones.  The front tires pop in quick succession, like two rounds from a pistol.

I pull the charge-blade from my gut and will it off. A quick glance and a shrug at the wide-eyed driver later and I’m sprinting down the street, dodging traffic. Someone calls after me and I ignore their cry. I don’t have time to answer questions.

I glance at my watch. 12:44.

“Hell.”

I don’t have much time at all.  

Where Am I and What Am I Doing?

People have been inquiring via email and Facebook as to how book three is coming. Rather than respond individually to each one (which I always do) with the same answer, I decided to post an update.

I’m almost done.

Aaaaaannnnd, there you go. Thanks for stopping by.

…
…
…
…
…

Now for the legitimate update:

Current word count is 240k with 6 chapters left to write. It’s turning out longer than I wanted, so I’ve started to identify sections I can cut. I’ve already removed an early chapter that I plan to turn into a short story and release for free on my website at some point. I don’t want to just toss it as I like what happens in it, but it’s not needed for the novel’s story. Hint: it involves a character from the Terrene Chronicles: Family collection of short stories.

70% of the book already has one editing pass on it, 25% has two. I write and edit in waves. It helps me keep evolving storylines straight as I go.

I had hoped to have the final first draft done by the end of April, but as some of you know, my father was ill. Well, on April 13th, he passed away and I’ve had a tough time focusing.

Once I do get a complete manuscript, I foresee heavy edits in my future but I hope to have it ready for my alpha readers by end of May. They’ll read it, point out any confusing plot points, disconnects, etc. and I’ll course correct. Once that’s done, my beta readers get their chance to proofread as I am awful at it.

In other news, in case you missed it, I signed with an agent back in February and things are progressing well regarding finding a traditional publisher for Progeny. A couple things are happening there which have me crossing my fingers.

This summer, I’ll have stories published in two different anthologies, both of which are a departure for me as they’re superhero themed. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I did writing them.

I’m attending Origins again this year and perhaps GenCon. I would like to beef up my convention schedule, but as I still have a day job, I can’t.

Something nifty about Origins this year: Patrick Rothfuss will be there.
Something niftier about Origins this year: I’m on a panel with him.

That’s it for now.

Good days ahead.

--R.T.

P.S. – I did an interview at SFFWorld.com not long ago. Check it out. Paul Weimer did a nice job with it.

P.P.S. – Shameless plea time: if you’ve read Progeny or Prophecy and enjoyed it/them, I would appreciate a quick review both here (Progeny (The Children of the White Lions, #1), Prophecy) and at Amazon (Progeny, Prophecy). They really do help in the long run.

Did That Just Happen...?

So this happened to me today.

I’m driving home from the gym after work. I have the windows cracked a little, enjoying the sunny, 75-degrees-warm weather. As I approach an intersection, the light turns yellow. Sifting my foot from gas to brake, I start to slow while flipping my turn signal down, readying to turn left. I stop and begin my wait for a green arrow.

As I'm sitting there, I hear music blaring from car speakers. Looking in my rearview mirror, I see a small, silver, two-door car coming up behind me. It pulls up on my right and stops. Two young women—high-schoolers—are in the front, dancing in their seats, singing along with some pop song I don’t recognize.

Side note: I love current music, save for mindless, studio-generated pop. Blech.

Anywho, I look back to the light, anxious for it to turn. I’m hungry, after all, and desire a snack before I start making dinner. A few seconds later, the music in the car next to me cuts off. Curious, I glance over to find both girls looking in my direction. The driver starts gesturing for me to roll down my window. Thinking they need directions, I reach for the window button on the door, push it, and watch the glass glide down.

I didn’t say anything at first, rather I simply lifted my eyebrows in a “can I help you?” sort of way. Doesn’t matter that I didn’t speak, anyway, as the teenagers immediately glanced at one another and, while giggling something fierce, faced me to shout something that simultaneously flattered, irritated, embarrassed, and made me a little ashamed of myself.

“Hot dad!”

I was flattered because apparently I’m a *HOT* dad!

I was irritated because I am apparently easily identifiable as a dad.

I was embarrassed because total strangers rarely go out of their way to comment on my attractiveness.

I was ashamed because—for goodness sake—these girls were like 16. Realistically, I could be the same age as their *actual* dads.

So, what did I do?

I turned a nice rosy hue, offered the young women an awkward smile, and think I said “Thanks?” Thankfully, at that moment, I got my green arrow. I gave my car some gas, turned left, and hurried home, my ego boosted even though I was feeling a little bit creepy.

Book 3 Update and Course Corrections

There are as many approaches to writing a novel as there are authors.

Some people are meticulous outliners, marking out every scene and character arc before writing word one. They know how many chapters a book will have, what happens in each, and will not deviate from their plan. I could never, ever write this way. Too constraining. If I want to step off the trail and wander a ways to see where an unintended plot point or character will take me, I will do it.

Others take an entirely organic approach, writing without purpose. They start on page one and write straight through to the end. Now, this can be a good writing exercise or for short fiction, but it’s a bad idea to think you can write a book this way. It would be like getting in your car without having a destination in mind. Sure, you might end up somewhere great in the end, but only after driving around aimlessly for a while. More than likely, you’ll stop and start a few times, retrace your steps, and—if you aren’t careful—perhaps even run out of gas.

Most authors fall somewhere between these two extremes. I certainly do.

Before I start a full-length work, I have in mind the beginning, the end, and a number of key points in between. I outline chapters as I go, keeping a buffer of four or five ahead of where I’m writing while always aiming for whatever the next key point is. This gives me structure and purpose yet allows me to vary if the story calls for it. Some variances might be small, while others are massive. For example, in Progeny, Nundle Babblebrook, who is many readers’ favorite character, was an accident. I had never planned for his role to be as large as it was, but halfway through his intro chapter, I realized how much I enjoyed writing him. So, I made a very, very large course correction.

I’m in the midst of writing book three now (past the 80% mark) and have been making quite a few course corrections as I go, more than I did in either Progeny or Prophecy. While the ending of book three has remained constant since…well, since before I even finished Prophecy, the path getting there has shifted a few times. While I have 57+ chapters written and have had the last 14 chapters outlined for a while now, recently I’ve spent a lot of time rewriting/editing large swaths of the book’s earlier sections. A lot of authors will warn you away from doing this, but if I get a new idea of how things should work that is better than the old, I go back and fix the foundation to support the change before tacking more on.

Turns out, writing a multi-book series is harder than writing a standalone novel. There simply are more threads to interweave from book to book.

I find it a bit ironic that I’ve come to this conclusion as I’ll be doing a panel at Origins this year with Patrick Rothfuss and Bradley P. Beaulieu germane to this topic: How to Write a Trilogy. Perhaps I’ll learn as much from them as the audience will.