BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

Those of you who actually know me are keenly aware of how I am at an event. By that, I mean – I’m working.

When I go to a Sci-Fi Con, Alternative Spirituality Festival, Book Festival, or whatever manner of convention/fest/what-have-you that is on my tour schedule, I expect to be bouncing from panel to panel, or workshop to workshop. Stick a book signing or two in there, and I’m all good. That is what I EXPECT to be doing. After all, I am there as an author. This is my job…

Something else that folks who attend the Pagan Unity Festival (PUF) in Tennessee know is that come Friday night dinner, they will find me in the chow line. Not ahead of, or behind them, getting a plate filled. Nope. I’ll be on the other side of the line, slopping grub onto their plates, picking at them, asking them questions, telling jokes, singing, and yes, sometimes even dancing.

Why?

Because that way I am guaranteed to meet almost every single person who is on-site. I’m more than willing to admit that I have an ulterior motive for this: I’m selling myself. Not in the lipstick and fishnets next to the lamp post on the corner fashion. Trust me, nobody in their right mind would pay for that. What I am doing, however, is putting a face to a name, and letting folks see that I’m just another warm body wandering the planet, just like them. It is my hope that doing such endears me to folks and makes them feel a little more at ease with buying a book and having me sign it for them.

So far it has seemed to work out well. I have been described by many as “approachable,” whereas I have heard about many other authors being described as exactly the opposite. Of course, I’m not on the NYT Best Seller List, but hey, there’s still time…in theory.

So… What does this have to do with the title of this blog entry? Well, there’s actually a correlation. Thin, but the thread really is there, trust me.

You see, just this past weekend I attended Bouchercon 2011, The World Mystery Convention. This was the 42nd Bouchercon, and the first held in Saint Louis (They are held in a different city each year.) So, with it being so close and my schedule being free, I really didn’t have an excuse not to attend. (First link is to the 2011 convention site. The second will take you to the actual Bouchercon site with all the history…)

But here’s the rub… Hundreds of authors come to Bouchercon. So do several hundreds of fans. However, with hundreds of authors it is really – and I mean REALLY –  hard to get a panel assignment. Any author knows that panels and/or workshops at conventions are your life’s blood. They are what put you in front of the crowd, identify you, identify your book(s), and generate new fans, which is what going to these events is really all about.

As it happens, I was damned lucky – I ended up with a panel assignment. Just one, but hey, given that there were several great authors in attendance who didn’t get a panel at all, I was ecstatic.

Night Chills panel at Bouchercon 2011, Photo Courtesy Gwen Mayo and Sarah Glenn. Back Row (L-R) Jason Starr, Rae Morgan (Monette Draper, our Moderator). Front Row (L-R) M. R. Sellars, Sarah Glenn, Angie Fox, Dakota Banks (Shirley Kennett)

Our group drew a hard slot, that being 8:30 A.M. on the first day of the convention, but neither the hour nor the day deterred us. We met online, got to know one another – and one another’s works and senses of humor. Before long we were the Big Damn Authors and nothing could stop us. We arrived early, handed out swag, including a load of free books, and then proceeded to entertain the pants right off a room full of folks. As it turned out, people were STILL talking about our panel three days later.

But what of the chow line, Murv?

Well, there wasn’t one. But, as we all know, leaving me idle in the middle of a large, swanky, downtown hotel is just asking for trouble. And when I say ALL, I mean me too. I know it in spades, because I’m the one E K punishes for the trouble I cause. Therefore, being painfully aware of this bit of trivia, I volunteered – and when I say volunteered, I mean I volunteered. Not only did I monitor a couple of panels, I did the next best thing to working a chow line. I worked registration for two days straight.

In that time I “meeted and greeted” several hundred folks, and just like the food line at PUF, I joked, sang, and picked at all of them. I even danced a few times. I had people coming to the registration area to chat and get books signed during the lulls. I had people coming back and thanking me for helping them find the location of a particular panel, something to drink, or even more importantly – the restrooms.

And you know what? I had a blast.

So… Will I attend a Bouchercon again? Honestly, probably not. Unless it comes to Saint Louis again. Or maybe Kansas City or Chicago, but even as close as those two cities are it would be very iffy. You see, even though I had a great time, the luck of the draw is against me pulling a panel again, so it really wouldn’t be worth the registration fee, hotel, food, travel, etc.

Of course, the grand plan is that some day I’ll be important enough that they’ll ask me to be there as a guest of the convention, and not just a struggling author who has to buy his way in. But, you know what? When that happens, I’m going to do something that none of the big names did, at least this year…

I’m going to insist that they let me work the registration desk for at least one day so that I can be sure to meet folks.

Unless, of course, there’s a chow line. I wield a pretty mean set of tongs…

More to come…

Murv

PS. I guess you are still wondering about the title of this blog… The Majestic Ballrooms were on the second floor of the conference center portion of the hotel, and were where numerous panels took place (Including Night Chills.) The most common question we received from attendees – over and above “where are the restrooms?” – was, “Where’s Majestic A, B, C?”

There are these bizarre, unwritten rules that we are supposed to follow. Not everyone has the same set of rules, or if they have similar rules, they might not be to the same degree. It’s sort of like that whole “moral-ethical” dilemma question I pose in my Ethics Workshop. What it comes down to is that whole, “we each have morals/ethics, but they are a little bit different than the guy sitting on your left or right might have.”

Same thing for the rules. We all have these unwritten rules that we have to follow, but each person’s is a little bit different – or sometimes a lot different – from those of their neighbor(s).

Some of them are self-imposed. Others are imposed by some bizarre, nameless collective in the sky. Kinda like “the cloud” I guess. Although, most of us realize what the cloud actually is… But we won’t tell the folks who don’t. We’ll just laugh at them behind their backs. Or in front of their backs as the case may be. You never know with “the cloud.”

But back to those unwritten rules. As I said, some of us have rules that are vastly different than those of our neighbors. Case in point, authors. You see, we have unwritten rules that we have to follow, and they haven’t got a damn thing in the world to do with writing. Among these unwritten rules from Mount Olympus (or wherever) is one that really, really irks me.

People get to say whatever they damn well please to us, and we are supposed to stand there and just smile and nod like one of those bobble headed cow figurines on the dashboard of your grandmother’s car…

What? That was only MY grandmother? Oh… Well, you know the figurines I’m talking about, so all good…

Anywho, I thought you might like to know what really goes through my head when people say ridiculous things to me.

Now, so you understand, I’m not talking about bad reviews. I don’t care about that crap. I’ve already stated many bazillions of times that I don’t even read reviews. They waste my time. Either you like my work or you don’t. Me calling you names if you don’t isn’t going to make you like it any better, whether I do it in public like the moron on the internet, or I do it in my head.

So, nope, that’s not what I mean. What I am talking about is when folks say ridiculous things to me during, at, or around a book signing or appearance. The unwritten rule says that I am supposed to nod and smile.

Now… You may be wondering what brought all this on. Well, nothing actually. I just happened to be looking for a blog topic and at the same time I accidentally thought about some of the utter crap that people have said to me over the years. Those two thoughts collided and I figured, “What the hell? I might be able to make something out of that.”

So… Here it is. Some of the things people have literally (I’m not kidding) said to me over the years that I have had to smile and nod at. And really, I am NOT kidding. People have actually said these things to me. And, I’ve nodded and smiled.  But here, as you are about to see, what my grin and bobbling head are doing on the outside are diametrically opposed to what is running through my gray matter.

Make note, you’ll probably find this to be a bit snarky, but ya’know, one good snark deserves another-

Random Person: “If you give me one of your books I’ll read it and let you know if it is any good.”

On The Outside: Smile… Nod… Smile

On The Inside: “If you give me your wallet I’ll go out and buy myself dinner and I’ll let you know if it was any good. Wake up you moron. Since when did I OWE you a book? On top of that, who appointed you Book Czar? Whether you like the book or not that doesn’t mean it’s good or bad. That goes for any book, not just mine. Get over yourself.”

Random Person: “You need a new cover artist. Your covers really suck.”

On The Outside: Smile… Nod… Smile

On The Inside:  “I’ll tell him you said that. By the way, you need a new fashion consultant. That shirt you’re wearing is about to make me puke.”

Random Person: “I really hated [Insert M. R. Sellars Book Title Here] .”

On The Outside: Smile… Nod… Smile

On The Inside: “Well damn. I was writing it just for you too. I’ll call the publisher and tell them to recall all of the copies and hold a public burning. Will that make you feel better?”

Random Person: “[Insert Number] of years ago I talked to you at a book signing and told you that you needed to write a book about [insert topic here] and you promised me you would. When are you going to do that? I’ve been waiting! You owe me!”

On The Outside: Smile… Nod… Smile

On The Inside: “Noooooo, actually I just nodded and smiled at you a lot. I never promised you a damn thing. I might have said that I would think about it just so I could make you go away and leave me alone, but I never promised you sh*t. You just made that up in your head. On top of that, I would still have to sell the idea to my publisher, ya’know. So, the long and short is this – If you want a book about that topic so bad I’m not stopping you from writing it.”

Random Person: “Here’s [insert babbling here] idea for a book. You can use it but you have to split the royalties with me. When can I expect a check?”

On The Outside: Smile… Nod… Smile

On The Inside: “{sigh} Not again… While your idea about pagan pirate space aliens with three penises kidnapping all of the exotic dancers in New Jersey and turning them into go-go dancing sex slaves on planet 72W-99DXZ is fascinating – especially when you seamlessly (cough) work in the disembodied ghost of Sherlock Holmes solving the Jack the Ripper case while aboard the sinking Titanic, and partnering with glowing mummies who eat nothing but SPAM… I… Uh… I just don’t think I can do it justice. Write it yourself and leave me the f*ck alone…”

 

Random Person: “Next time you have a book release party you need to have chocolate cake. I don’t like yellow cake.”

On The Outside: Smile… Nod… Smile

On The Inside: “Listen… Lardass… I just watched you eat three pieces of that damn cake, then walk past the table and stuff handfuls of hors d’oeuvres into your shopping bag as well as your face, along with one of the unopened bottles of Champagne. If you don’t like yellow cake then don’t eat it. It’s not like I charged you for any of it, and by the way, I also noticed that you didn’t even buy a goddamned book, so shut the f*ck up and get out of my face before I kick your food stealing ass into next week.

Again, I would like to stress that YES, people really and truly have said the above things to me. There are plenty more too, but I’ll leave it at that. I think you get the idea…

So, the next time you see me nodding and smiling at someone, odds are I’m ripping on them in my head. Guess what? That’s exactly how I keep myself smiling…

More to come…

Murv