Some of you may recall how I was giddily running down the list of Conventions I would be attending this year. MegaCon in March, the H.P. Lovecraft Film Festival and Cthulhuthon and the Salt Lake City Fan Xperience in April, then the Texas Frightmare in May, and so on.
However, reality has a way of saying, “Not so fast, pal.”
MegaCon, which I could have attended for free and stayed at for free thanks to the awesomeness of author Kimberly Raiser, is in Orlando, and even Spirit Airlines (“Home of the Nothing Special”) wants almost $400 for me to sit on a chicken crate while their fresh-from-rehab pilots work on building up enough flight hours so they can get a job at a better airline. That, and I would have to either mail my books to myself out there or just not try to sell any books and just hang out looking at overweight Darth Vaders try to impress shapely Slave Leias. (I kid — I LOVE these kinds of things, but still, Darth, why don’t you force-choke yourself to stop all that food going into your belly?)
“Join me, Luke … at the buffet.”
So no MegaCon. I also was interested in the Spooky Empire Con later in the year in Orlando, but I faced all of the same difficulties plus I’d have to pay for a table and a place to stay, so no dice.
That said, I do still have the Lovecraft Film Fest and the SLC Con, at both of which I will be an official guest giving talks and such. My buddy Greg in Portland is letting me stay with him for the former and some new friends in SLC are letting me stay with them and their brood for the latter. I’ve ordered my own books to sell at these Cons. I will be taking Spirit (“Fly the Frugal Skies”) to Portland and purchased my ticket to ride the dog to SLC so I can work on the way, something frowned upon if one is driving.
Today’s “Marmaduke” ain’t gonna read itself, officer.
The Salt Lake City Con is one of two there I will be attending this year, thanks to having had the luck to meet Dan Farr (the head of the SLC Cons) at the Walker Stalker festival last November. We hit it off immediately and he told me that he wanted me at his Cons not only for my awesome books, but also for my personality, which, I must admit, is pretty fun when I get wound up. He’s a great guy and their staff has been very accommodating. Also, I’ve never been to Utah, so BAM! (I have no idea what BAM means in this context. Just roll with it, baby.)
The Lovecraft Con is something I would have paid to attend in the first place, and all my eldritch heroes will be there … and I’ll be sharing a stage with them. Whoa. If I can sell half of the books I’m bringing there, the trip will have more than paid for itself.
And if I can sell a hundred times more books than I’m bringing there …
But whither Texas Frightmare in Dallas, you ask? My PUBLISHER (I’m now like that obnoxious woman on Seinfeld who kept referring to her FIANCEE every five seconds) let me know that Permuted Press would have a table there and I was welcome to join them and sell my books from “our” table (SQUEE!). However, I just learned that I’d have to pay to attend the Con, which I am not at all averse to, but money, airplane tickets, &c are not happening with all the other outlays for the earlier Cons. It’s cool, although I had wanted to attend most of all to stalk George Romero like the simpering fanboy I am. Hell, not going is probably just saving myself some Taser burns from security.
“Um, is this the photo op? Mr. Romero? Why is it so quiet?”
My pals at Permuted get only two passes, so they actually have to pay for some of their employees to attend the Con just to work at it! So I hardly feel aggrieved. Also, I would have had to fly Spirit again (“Passengers, would you mind putting your arms out the windows and flapping a little?”) and who needs that? I’ll plan to go next year when I is all famous and whatnot.
Another little catch is that I won’t be selling copies of Deadtown Abbey after I go through the 25 or so I have left because, of course, Permuted has bought the rights and will be putting it out themselves in the next 18 months or so. I could go to horror conventions just with some Darwin’s Dreams and Ain’t That America, I guess, but I get enough pitying looks from just driving my rather boot car around Vegas.
Obviously, I can’t get rid of it now that I know it can talk.
Next up: The bittersweet feeling of removing one’s own books from Amazon. Stay tuned!