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

Continued From Food. It’s Not Really That Hard…

Kerchunk, kabloop, fribble, kerchunk, ecky-ptwang… (Gratuitous Wayback Machine noises)

Okay, here we are. If you are JUST NOW joining us, you have some catching up to do… Or should that be chasing forward? After all, this started in 2011 and now here we are in 2008 and… Well… Umm… Well anyway, should it be the case that you don’t know what’s going on here, go back… err… spring forward…  Oh hell, just go read the $750.00 Later… and Food. It’s Not Really That Hard… entries. Otherwise, you are going to be lost and the rest of us aren’t going to come looking for you. It wouldn’t do any good anyway, because I’m leading this expedition and obviously I’m lost myself…

Okay, everybody ready? Good. Here we go…

Way, way, wayyyyyyy back in 2008, I was booked to do the very first OstaraFest. Everything was cranking along just fine – in fact, I wasn’t even ill – but then, something changed. That being, my handler’s ability to feed me. My handler that year was Lolly. She was to see to it that I arrived where I needed to be, when I needed to be there, and that I had things like water, food, my shots, got let out to pee, got taken for a walk… you know, the standard handler stuff. Truth is, I’m a fairly easy guest author to get along with. However, I do need to be fed every now and then, even though I’m a fat guy.

Long story short, however, Lolly kept forgetting to feed me. She saw to it that I was where I needed to be, when I needed to be there, that’s for sure. She even made sure I had pens, a place to sit, an orderly line for the fans who wanted to get books signed… But food… Well, that just didn’t seem to work out.

Finally. Food. I really look like I'm wasting away, don't I?

Fast forward (because the Wayback Machine just takes too long) to 2010. I was scheduled for OstaraFest again. Lolly decided that if I was going to be fed she was going to have to hand me off to someone else – Therefore, Doug, her husband took over. For Doug, coffee and beer are food groups. This was perfectly fine with me. Apparently, it was NOT perfectly fine with Lolly. She made it a point to be photographed handing me a hotdog so that I could no longer say she hadn’t fed me. It was a good hotdog. Not as good as the beer, but hey, it was still good. (BTW – this was also the year I was introduced to Butch’s breakfasts, as Doug and I would make the trip over the river and through the woods in the opposite direction each morning in order to have breakfast at “Butch’s Home Diner”…) So I was really all set – a made to order breakfast that will keep you going all day, coffee, and BEER…

But as I said, Lolly didn’t see it that way…

Fast forward once again to OstaraFest 2011… After a full day on Saturday, where I did an address, a roundtable discussion, a seminar, signed 42 bazillion books, visited with folks, and was chased around the VFW Hall by “Bouncy Brandi” (remember her?), we all went out to dinner at “Old Chicago Pizzeria.”

For The Purpose Of Illustration Only: NOT ACTUAL Bouncy Brandi Hooker Shoes

Upon arrival, all eleven thousand and three of us gathered around a football field of tables. Somehow or another – I suspect by careful arrangement on her part – I was positioned directly across from “Bouncy Brandi”. After ordering, while we waited for the food, “BB” kept showing me pictures on her phone… Apparently she wanted me to know just exactly what was available to me for $750.00 – right down to the stack heeled, burgundy, Mary Jane hooker shoes she was planning to wear.

I have to admit, these were some pretty sharp shoes. Worth $750.00? I dunno… But they were definitely some hot lookin’ girl shoes.

So anyway, food arrived… Well… some of it. You see, everyone at the table received their food, except moi. Srsly. Eventually the server returned and asked if there was anything else we needed.

I said, “Ummm… My food?”

She went to check. Apparently it was still cooking, which is restaurant speak for “somebody f*cked up and we’re scrambling to put it together as fast as we can right now.”

All good. I was in no hurry. Ten minutes passed. Fifteen minutes passed. When it hit twenty-five minutes, Joyce excused herself from the table. A moment later, Mike, “Bouncy Brandi’s” husband, excused himself as well. I tried to get him to stay because I was really, really afraid of being left alone with that much perkiness sitting across from me.

Before long they returned. Seconds later, the server and the manager came rushing out the door with my dinner. For free. Then they gave me something like a quarter of a cheesecake. For free. And they bought me a drink. (yes, for free)… All the while they apologized profusely and gave Joyce and Mike a very wide berth. Apparently they had burned down a portion of the restaurant while explaining to the management that I was a world famous author who had been waiting for his food for 93 days, and that I would be killing them all in my next novel… Or something along that line. I never did hear the full story. I just saw the smoke, heard the screaming, and then ate my pizza.

The cheesecake? I gave it to Brandi, hoping to placate her and avoid the whole $750 thing… Well, that and the fact that Dave, who was sitting next to me, had looked over and said, “You know, after all the grief they just gave them, that’s probably a piece of sneezecake, not cheesecake.”

Of course, if that isn’t enough proof that Texas doesn’t want me to eat… well… it doesn’t end there.

However, for that, you need to tune in next time…

To Be CONCLUDED in The Girl, The Shoes, And The $750… coming 4/3/11…

More to come…

Murv