BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

This is sort of a RAQ – That being a Recently Asked Question as opposed to a Frequently Asked Question. Although, I will admit that for some odd reason said question was asked not only recently, but frequently as well, which sort of makes this a one night FRAQ, which I suppose opens up a whole different possibility…but, we won’t go there…

The question in question, that being the FRAQ of whence we now speak, goes something like: Why aren’t you ever on panels at Archon with Laurell K. Hamilton anymore?

I’d like to note, those who have asked the question are in a small minority, as you will see later in this entry…

For those of you who may not know what Archon is, it’s a rather large SF/Fantasy Convention located here in Saint Louis. I am usually there every year as a guest author, signing books and being a panelist on various topics. Laurell is there most years too, and in the past, since we have a crossover in readership, we have had a tendency to be scheduled on panels together.

Up until the past few years, that is… Which brings us back around to the FRAQ…

I’m not on panels with Laurell K. Hamilton anymore because when I fill out my presenter/panelist forms each year, under the NOTES / COMMENTS / SPECIAL  REQUESTS section I put in bold, italic, underlined, highlighted, and otherwise offset for maximum “viewage” – DO NOT SCHEDULE ME ON ANY PANELS WITH LAURELL K. HAMILTON.

Now… This answers the question as to why I don’t appear on panels with LKH any longer. However, I realize it begs a new and directly related question, that being: Why do I put such a thing on my presenter form?

Well, allow me to put the nix on any bizarre answer you may have concocted for yourself and others – Laurell and I are NOT enemies. I have absolutely nothing against her at all. She’s a perfectly lovely young lady, and we’ve had many a wonderful conversation at events throughout the years. To my knowledge she doesn’t have anything against me, either. I doubt that she thinks I’m a perfectly lovely young lady, but that’s a different story.

So, here’s the reason – Laurell’s Fans…

I’m sure that sounds like I am dissing folks who are also readers – or potential readers – of mine. Well, I’m not. I have nothing at all against Laurell’s fans either. It’s more the situation. Sort of a “I like ketchup, and I like ice cream, but I don’t like ketchup on my ice cream” thing.

You see, what happens is that any panel where Laurell appears fills up with rabid Anita Blake/Merrie Gentry fans. This is to be expected, and it’s a great thing – for Laurell. For the rest of the panelists, not so much. What ends up happening is that the “rabidest” of the rabid fans end up dominating the panel with their questions and comments. What that means is that no matter WHAT the panel is supposed to be about, how hard the moderator tries to control it, and no matter how hard Laurell herself tries to keep things on track, the rabid horde manages to focus every bit of attention on Laurell and her books. There have even been occasions when they will talk right over the top of other panelists who are trying to answer a question, because they are there to see Laurell, not the rest of us.

Again, this is great… For her. For the rest of us, not so much.

So, I had to make a decision… After twiddling my thumbs and sharing numerous “WTF Shrugs” with other panelists over the years, then LITERALLY overhearing attendees of several of these panels say things akin to, “I don’t know why they put those other people up there with Laurell. Who were they anyway?” I came to the conclusion that maybe we would all be better off if I “Just Said No.”

My time is much better served being on a panel where the attendees are actually interested in what I have to say, and might even remember my name and go buy a book or two – that I wrote, of course. And, Laurell’s fans don’t have me annoying them by expressing my opinion on the topic of the panel, when all they really want to know are things that are LKH-centric.

I get that. No hard feelings. I think my solution makes perfect sense.

And there you have it. Nothing insidious. Nothing horrible and terrible. Just a little common sense in the overwhelming madness of a SF/Fantasy con. Scary, eh?

More to come…

Murv

I went to college.

More than one of them, actually. I have all sorts of college credits racked up in different areas of study. Odds are many of them have expired, much like a gallon of milk from 1991, but I’m sure there are a few that still haven’t reached their “use or freeze by” date. However, one of the things I don’t have to show for all of that studying is a piece of paper. Well… I have all manner of pieces of paper, to be honest. What I’m talking about is the proverbial “sheepskin.” That piece of faux parchment, vellum, what-have-you, that officially attaches a pair (or more) of letters from the alphabet as a suffix to my name.

So, nope. I don’t have an AA. Never even been to a meeting. I have, however, ridden on their airplanes more times than I care to count.

And, I also don’t have a BA, Baracus or otherwise. I do, however, “piddy da foo” who thinks s/he is better than me just because they have a couple of letters that allow them to wear gaudy jewelry.

Nor do I have a BS, even though I’m pretty damn good at spouting it when I need to do so. All you have to do is check my blog for evidence of that fact. Truth is, I should have a PhD in BS. An official Piled high and Deep in BullSh*t. Yep. That sounds like the perfect degree for me, but alas, I have neither.

I also don’t have a MA. I had one, but she passed away back in 1987. That’s a whole different story. And nope, no MS either… Well, actually that’s not quite true. E K doesn’t do the Mrs. thing, so I guess I sort of have a Ms. Although, one doesn’t really have The E K. She has you. It’s sort of a control thing with her.

So… Why didn’t I ever bother to get myself a set of letters to append to my name? Or, if the college recruiter who was courting me so hard back in nineteen-cough-cough had been given her way, a D and an R to put in front of my name – in the form of an MD sort of Dr.

Well, in her case it’s because I don’t particularly care for sick people, but that’s another story entirely.

In the case of any of the other paired up, tripled up, or screwed up selections from the alphabet, it’s simple. I became fed up with academia. Why? Because I figured it out too soon. What did I figure out? That’s simple too. I figured out that sticking a mess of letters behind my name wouldn’t make me happy. They wouldn’t accomplish much of anything, really, other than wave a flag to the world that was meant to say, “I know a whole bunch of sh*t because all of these other people say I do.” Besides, all I’ve ever really wanted to do is write books, and that’s what I do. If I was writing a textbook about Quantum Physics I could maybe understand the need for a PhD (although, as I said, all it does is denote that someone else thinks I know what I’m talking about – right up until they disagree with me.) Truth is, I really don’t see where a degree would convince people to buy fiction—

“Hey, Joe. Have you read those fictional suspense-thrillers by M. R. Sellars? He has a PhD in Basket Weaving.”

“Well damn, Fred… A PhD? I’m going to rush out and buy the whole series!”

Yeah… I just don’t see it.

Now, I’m certainly not diminishing the accomplishment of those who seek those letters. I’m just saying I wasn’t cut out for committing a mess of silliness to memory so that a bunch of folks who really don’t give a rat’s ass about anything other than the size of their office, or where the next grant is coming from can certify that I know it. Truth is some of my best friends are packing around AAs, BAs, BSs, and MAs. My niece is sporting a PhD. Am I proud of their accomplishments? Hell yes. Do I feel like I need to spend 250K (minimum) to get myself some Alphabet Bling for my name?  Not so much.

There’s also the issue of what to do with all that memorization once I, well, you know, memorize it. Teach? Why? So that I can tell a bunch of other folks that they know what I know? Doesn’t really seem like true critical thinking to me. (Don’t take that the wrong way. I also have many friends and relatives who are teachers and I think they are great. If that is what they love doing, I support them and I also think they are NOT paid enough. So, I have nothing against teachers. I just think that I am better suited to entertain.)

So… Why am I writing about college? Well, that’s simple too. My daughter is friggin’ brilliant. Ever since Kindergarten she’s been in the gifted and talented program at her school, and she has also qualified for, and been attending, College for Kids classes during the Summer and Winter sessions. Learning stuff. Quenching her thirst for knowledge, and racking up points toward admission into college when she reaches that age. At this very moment I am sitting in a study area of the science building of one of the local Community Colleges while she is attending her full day of classes. Yep, I’m writing this blog from Kahllidge. (Obviously just a bit in advance of its early morning deployment. Gotta love scheduling on WordPress.)

However, I don’t guess that fully explains why I’m writing about it, now does it?

Well, I can sum it up this way. Earlier I ran into a gaggle of the students – this batch was actually younger than my daughter. There they were, wandering the halls of academia on their way to their next class, complete with Garanimals, Spiderman backpacks, and serious expressions plastered onto their little faces. The kind of serious expressions that made them look painfully constipated.

All in all, they sorta reminded me of me way back when I was in college…

More to come…

Murv