Author: Jonathon

Back from Dragon Con. There’s lot’s to say about it, but tonight the goal is bed early, because Jon and I are still beat. As Charles has called it, we have a con hangover. It has nothing to do with liquor, though there was certainly drinking going on at the con, just not by any of the three of us. This is my third Dragon Con, and after five days I always feel the same: achy, tired, muscles tight, hurting in places you can’t quite figure out, and feeling bruised. Con hangover. I think it has something to do with the concrete floor with so little padding on it, and walking from one hotel to another for events. Part of it, is the crowd. It’s not as big as Comic Con (what is?) but it’s still an amazing crowd. I think the number mentioned to me was 50,000 people. It’s not the 200,000 thousand of Comic con, but it’s still the population of a small, to medium sized city in a confined space.

The first year I went, by myself, was a sensory overload. I did my events, got food when I could, and huddled in my room unprepared for the size of the event. The second year I went, Jon was with me, and that helped. It’s always better to have a friend with you at a con. But it was still grinding and we would fall into bed as early as possible to save energy for the next day of panels. This was my third, Jon’s second, and Charles’s first, Dragon Con. We all knew how to do panels, signings, and the public events, but I really didn’t know how to enjoy a convention. I hate them, because I never get to play, it’s work. Charles pointed out that I never go to any after hours events. I never attend concerts (and Dragon Con has some amazing ones), I never do room parties, I don’t socialize. Apparently, socializing with friends is one of the main enjoyments of a con. This is like alien to me. My idea was to endure a five day event I had to get rest and plenty of it, and still by every Monday I felt wretched, and I’d done nothing but work. Jon had once gone to cons before I came along and enjoyed them. I was the only one that simply didn’t get it. I felt bad that I’d sucked the crunchy goodness out of cons for Jon, so, this year I vowed to try and enjoy myself. Problem, I didn’t really know how to do it.

I knew I wanted to see Voltaire and The Cruxshadows in concert, beyond that I just wasn’t sure. Okay, I knew I wanted to see the art show this time. It was my third Dragon Con and I’d never had a chance to see it, and I wanted to see the dealer’s rooms. That was a start. How’d we do on the list?

We saw the last part of Voltaire’s concert, and he proved once again that he is a wonderful story teller, and a great musician. We got to sing along with one of my favorite of his songs, "When your Evil." We all applauded him to an encore where he sang the Science Fiction double feature song from ROCKY HORROR. One of those nearly perfect moments, sitting in the dark with Jon and Charles and our friend Florence, and listening to Voltaire. Come to think of it, she was with us in New Orleans when Jon and I heard him last, and first. Charles has seen him once since in concert in between.

We didn’t get to see the Cruxshadows, because when we went down it was such a huge mob of a crowd, that the three of us decided we just couldn’t do it. Jon has an orthopedic brace for the knee he blew out some years ago, and I was wearing cruel shoes. We couldn’t stand for an hour in a crowd. Charles loves the group, but even he didn’t want to deal with that many people. I think this was our third night at the con and the crowd’s press was getting to all of us. We bought some albums and t-shirts next day, maybe next time.

I did get to walk through the whole art show, but never got a chance to go back and buy the print I liked. Oh, well, the artist has an internet site. We got to see all three, yes three, of the dealer’s rooms. We committed commerce at several booths, and we had our own booth in the big room in the basement. It was listed under Ma Petite, and not my name in the program which made it hard for people to figure out we were there. All right, Darla, Pili, and Kari were there; mostly Pili and Darla. Because we kept co-opting Kari to help with security and video taping stuff. She has twenty plus years in martial arts and is a professional camera person; so cool when my friends have such helpful jobs. Darla got sick Friday night into Saturday, so Pili was left to man, or woman, the booth a lot on her own, but damn that woman can sell. Darla got to feeling better by Sunday, but it had taken a lot of wind out of her sails. No one else got sick, so we think it might have been something she ate than none of the rest of us did. We are tentatively blaming some rouge salad dressing.

We did lot’s and lot’s of other stuff, but that gives you some of the highlights. I’ll blog more tomorrow.

Here is the blog before we get on the plane to fly to Atlanta. I thought while I was freaking from my phobia that I’d try to use some of this nervous energy (if we could harness it, we could fix the energy crisis of at least the Eastern Seaboard) for a good cause. One of the comics we read daily is Howard Taylor’s "Schlock Mercenary", I even did an intro for his second collection. We found something interesting in his blog and thought we’d share.

Songwriter and performer Tom Smith was injured on stage in late spring. His livelihood depends on him traveling to conventions and performing, but now he is trapped in a wheelchair undergoing physical therapy.

He’ll be fine, but he is missing the 2008 convention season entirely, and is racking up medical expenses instead of income.

If you’ve been paying attention to sites other than mine, you’ve probably seen plugs for the Mr. Smith Goes To The Hospital fund-raiser from notables and luminaries like Randy Milholland, Phil and Kaja Foglio, Rob Balder, everybody at the FuMP, and Steve Jackson. The plugging, pleading, and exhortation has been drawn out across the summer in order to maximize the benefit to Tom, and it has fallen to me to go last.

Jon bought the songs, and they are hilarious. My favorite, so far, is "I want to be Peter Lorre". Jon loves the Trans Poly U fight song. It’s what mad scientists would sing about their ala mater. The songs are very fun, and for a worthy cause. How many times in your life can you do the right thing, and have a great time doing it? Not often enough.

Ahhh! Plane ride tomorrow to Atlanta for Dragon Con. Did I mention the whole riding an airplane concept? Jon found that there is a train that goes all the way from Chicago to San Fransico. It takes four days, but I don’t seem to be afraid of trains. Though, I’ve never used a sleeper car. I tend not to sleep in cars, or anything that moves. So, we might get me on it, and discover that I just don’t sleep for four days. That would be bad.

If I could let go of my fear my life would be contain a great deal less stress. But how do you let go of a phobia? I’ve tried hypnotism. It doesn’t work on me. The nice hypnotist said I had trust issues; really, me, like that was a big surprise. I’ve tried immersion therapy, ie . . . twenty-six cities in twenty-eight days with a plane ride for each city. The theory was as nothing bad happened, I would eventually grow less afraid and more calm about the planes. By the next to last city, I almost didn’t get on the plane. I just looked at Jon and said, "I don’t think I can do this. I don’t think I have one more plane ride in me." I did, of course, get on the airplane, but it was a near thing. Oh, and for those of you wondering why the twenty-six cities in twenty-eight days: the national tour for Narcissus in Chains. It came out just after 9/11 so the airports were even more, um, interesting than normal.

My new ipod is playing as I type this; I spent the last two hours going through the play list on the computer and putting things back, though same songs that had outlived their usefulness to me were dropped. New songs made it on, and because I was working from Jon’s play list . . . let’s just say that there are some interesting choices. After being together for eight years, my music taste is getting more eclectic just from rubbing elbows with his-self’s music collection. When we were dating I never knew when I got into his truck, if I’d be listening to the Andrew’s Sister’s, or death metal. You need a sort of psychic depth chamber to go from one song to the other, or so I thought years ago. Now, it doesn’t rattle me to be listening to Eartha Kitt one minute and HIM, the next. Though the lounge singer version of "Smack my bitch up," hurt my head a little.

I’ll try to do a blog tomorrow, but I can’t promise. If this is the last blog before I fly to Atlanta see everyone at Dragon Con!

French Publisher, DragonCon Info ? even if your not going!
FRENCH PUBLISHER
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Bragelonne is going to publish the AB series in France! Sorry I do not yet have details on when they will publish their first book. But we will share as soon as someone lets us know.
DRAGON CON
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With DragonCon looming on the horizon (YAH!) I wanted to cover a few things.
Kind of a mishmash of things, what to start with first?
Okay, even if you?re NOT going, DragonCon will be posting pictures and videos at http://www.dragoncon.org. We will also be taping so look for that as soon as we can manage it. There are always fun things up at the DragonCon website. Personally, I find the video ?bumpers? hilarious.
I would like to say Thank You to DragonCon for extending Parade registration. I didn?t realize it had closed two weeks ago. It is terrifically nice of them to hold it open so late so many more folks could sign up. My apologies to all. That was totally my screw up.
So if you plan on marching make sure you register!
DragonCon has a parade check-in table in the Hyatt Regency just outside badge pick-up (Grand Hall, Exhibit Level) on Thursday (4-9:30PM) and Friday (9:30AM-9:30PM). Anyone who didn’t sign-up for the parade by August 13 should come by the table once they get to Dragon*Con.
Laurell does not charge for her autograph. Nor will she require you to purchase anything at the con to get it. Signing is limited to two items per person. I still am not sure how they are handling the signings please ask at the registration when you check in with the Convention.
We will have a booth! We will be in the Marriott International Hall Booth A-55. We will be selling Guilty Pleasures Staff and Security Shirts, JC Ducks, Sigmund Penguins and Nathaniel Leopards.
There are freebies to be had, for as long as they last. Also, we will have a free t-shirt for anyone wearing one of ours (from the fan club or Caf? Press) or one you made yourself. Again, for as long as they last. Or just stop by and say hi! We are always happy to meet everyone.
There will be some goodies at the Charity Auction from Laurell. So if you don?t catch her sooner, you might try to win those.
DragonCon has a pocket program up on the website so you can plan your visit: http://publications.dragoncon.org/index.htm#Pocket
So that pretty much is it!
Hope to see you there.
Darla

I’m a guest author at Center Stage for Barnes and Noble this week. So, if you have any questions you’re dieing to ask, now’s your chance. I think I answered eight questions today. More tomorrow. The link is below:

Center Stage

I had heard the word cougar for an older woman who dated younger men, but I thought it meant in a predatory sort of way. An older woman who dated younger men in a casual, and potentially hurtful manner. I learned last night at the party that it’s now referring to any older woman who dates exclusively younger men.
Am I cougar? When my first marriage broke up, and I was suddenly dating after more than a decade of being off the shelf, I had no plans to date anyone too much younger than myself. But I found that the men in my age range had the same problems with me that we’d all had in college. I was too dominant, too interested in my own career, and, strangely, too successful. A lot of men within a few years of me either way were very intimidated by that last bit. Then, there were those men who thought my choice of writing was either too gross, or made them think it would make me more sexually available. That’s like the creepy guys who think that women who work vice, or sex crimes for the police are somehow more into what they work with; disturbing. I mean if I was a firefighter, you wouldn’t expect me to be an arsonist in my spare time.
There was also this expectiation in my age group and older that divorced meant I was easy. I am not easy in any sense of the word; any man I’ve ever dated will tell you this. When I was in college men didn’t expect sex for the price of dinner and a movie. Somehow in the decade and change I’d been out of the dating pool, they did. If I wanted to sell it, it would go for more than that, and if that’s what the man thought, I paid for my own damn dinner. Thanks, anyway.
But younger men, like seven, or more years younger, didn’t have the same problems with my job, my success, or my attitude. They also didn’t think that sex was an automatic just because I was divorced. I think it’s a generational difference. Men in my age bracket were still suffering under the delusion that once you’re down a man, you NEED one. To keep you from makng some horrible mistake, modern technology takes the edge off guys, get a grip on your creepy selves.
So, I guess, by definition, since I only successfuly dated men that much younger than myself after my divorce, and married a man who is twelve years younger than me; that yes, I am a cougar. Meow.

Woke early this morning. Dawn, just a faint orange and rose glow against the bathroom window. The window was covered in moisture, as if the night had cried as it went. Most of the windows in my office were fogged like that; it means autumn is here. It’s August and it should be hot enough to broil outside, but it’s not. It feels more like late September, or even October. More sunlight, but the temperature is cool, the nights misty, and the mornings full of autumn haze. People who have lived in St. Louis their entire lives say they’ve never seen an August like this one. I wonder whose getting our usual weather? Sorry, to you guys, but it’s lovely here.
What did I do this lovely morning while my husband and daughter were still tucked up in their beds? Well, after taking care of the dogs, and made tea, I meditated, which I do almost every morning. Feeling a little more centered for the day, I let myself just type on an idea that I’d had earlier this morning. It’s not Anita, or Merry, or anything else. It’s brand new, and it’s a mystery, and I don’t even know where it’s going or what’s happening, and that feels strangely freeing. Six pages on the mysterious new project. I feel better.
Writing group last night. It was a social meeting, because none of us had anything to run through the group. SWALLOWING DARKNESS had to go to New York before this meeting, and I knew it would, so I didn’t take up time in the schedule. Next month, Mark may have something, but what we all have found is that life interferes in getting the writing done, or for some of us, the deadlines are so short that we can’t send it through the whole group on a once a month schedule. Once upon a time, no one in New York cared that much, and we were regular as clock work. Funny the things you don’t think success will change. No complaints, just one of those observations.
Jon stayed home with Trinity, and they had a movie night. That means they each pick something from the video store, and get to watch it. It runs high to animae that I don’t want to see, and cartoons. Trin loves movie nights, and the father/daughter bonding. I guess the closest I came to that was my Uncle Maran, who would say up late at night with my cousin, his son, David and I so we could watch the local Creature Feature hour. He’d make us popcorn, and we’d watch the shows, until he fell asleep, then we fell asleep. At age seven or so, I remember falling asleep in front of their big colored televison, pressed almost against it tryign to stay awake to see that second scary feature. I really missed Uncle Maran when he and my aunt divorced. But it was the closest I had to what Trinity takes as normal.
Today we have a pic nic/ cook out to go to. One of my best friend’s daughter is coming home for a visit. She’s off on the coast getting her degree, so she doesn’t get home often. So, we get to pack up as a family, and go see Robin and her family.
Off for lunch. Hope you guys have a fabulous weekend.

Jon and I had date night last night. One of the most important things I learned from the break up of my first marriage is that if a couple doesn’t make time to simply be a couple, then you begin to forget how to do it. So, almost every week, we have a date night. I came downstairs and Jon handed me my new Smith & Wesson M&P 9c, in a brand new Blade-Tech holster, which we’d ordered, but I didn’t realize had arrrived. He handed it to me with the comment, "Happy date night."

My reply, "Are we going to the range?"

He grinned, and shook his head. "I just wanted to surprise you."

Ah, a new holster for my gun, that he’d already worked on so I could carry it the way I wanted to carry it. There’s a man that knows the way to my heart. We spent the next little bit trying the holster on, and seeing if it worked for the gun and ease of draw. We discovered that my pants, being girl pants, were not strong enough to stand up to the pull and tug without sagging. We also discovered that low rise is not good for gun carry; something I’d already discovered actually. But hey, I live in hope that this time it will work. Also, you need a belt, a good, solid belt, read boy belt. When I went upstairs to put one on, I realized I could get the date night surprise I’d gotten for Jon. Let’s just say that Fredrick’s of Hollywood makes some nice stuff that fits under clothes just fine. I’d chosen the color and fit with Jon in mind, put my clothes back on over it all, then went down stairs to play with the new holster some more. Admittedly, I flashed my husband so he’d know what I was wearing, but then that’s part of the fun. We finally put the guns back in the gun safe, because we also got out his FN and it’s new holster. If anything would make me pack my Browning in moth balls it would be the FN. So, far I’ve resisted, but damn it shoots nice.

My ex picked up the kiddo, and we were free to get ready to go out. First feed the dogs, so you won’t have to do that when you come home from dinner. Then wait for the dogs to digest, then finally take them out, then we could go out. I took Jon to an Indian restaurant, because that it one of his favorites. It’s not my favorite. I love naan bread, but other than that, I find it a little spicy, and I don’t care for cilantro which seems to be in everything. But this was about taking my husband out to the restaurant he wanted to go to, and I can find things to eat. It was wonderful. Seven years married and I still love looking across the table at him when it’s just the two of us. He danced in his seat to the Indian club music, but then Jon is always moving, dancing, either to the music that is playing in the room, or inside his own head. If you’ve been to a signing, you know what I mean. He helps me remember that we’re supposed to be dancing through life, not slogging. My work horse mentality sometimes puts lead in my feet. Jon helps me remember that there are lighter things to be wearing.

We drove home in rain with the sky lighting above us like some pyrotechnic show. We stayed downstairs long enough for the worst of it to pass, because our big puppy, Pippin, is terrified of storms. All sixty pounds of him crawled into my lap, along with Sasquatch. Sassy isn’t afraid of storms, he just wants to be in my lap, too. Jealous dogs. When the weather had calmed enough for Pip to voluntarily go to the other couch and lay by himself, we got to go upstairs. Yea!

Let’s just say the lingerie was a hit, and for all of you women out there that are like me and have curves, I find that Fredrick’s has a lot more variety that will fit us, then Victoria’s secret. Don’t despair of those curves, celebrate them.

This year’s parade will be our largest ever, with the potential to top 2000 costumed participants marching on Peachtree Street. Getting every one staged and ready to step off at 10:00AM is, as you can imagine, a major production. Walk-ups on parade morning are always discouraged.
Fans planning to march with Laurell K Hamilton however should sign-up for the parade so we can get critical logistical information to them.
We’ll have a parade check-in table in the Hyatt Regency just outside badge pick-up (Grand Hall, Exhibit Level) on Thursday (4-9:30PM) and Friday (9:30AM-9:30PM). Anyone who didn’t sign-up for the parade by August 13 should come by our table once they get to Dragon*Con.
All parade participants must be Dragon*Con members and are required to wear their badges during the event. The parade is a costumed event and as such all participants (exceptions being honored guests like Laurell) must be in costume. Vampires and vampire hunters are welcome in the parade!

Labels: convention, dragoncon, hamilton, laurell

Better today. Got the comic stuff done bright and early. Am rereading the new Anita book, because I’ve been away from it too long to just pick back up where I left off. In fact, today when Jon asked me what page number to print off to, I couldn’t remember. He then asked, "Well, where did you leave everything? What was happening?" I looked at him blankly. I simply couldn’t remember if I’d gotten past the weretiger scene, or not. I think I had, but I had to look to be sure. I am past that scene. I had to leave Anita, Edward, and the rest of the police about to do a SWAT entry to a house. I’ve been making notes on research I’ll be needing for later, as I reread. What kind of research? What does the drive form the airport to the police station look like. Heck, what does the police station look like. There are other more detailed questions, but it’s mostly questions because the book isn’t set in St. Louis. Jon and I enjoyed our research in North Carolina, for the most part, except for that one hotel room, but I’m not a good traveler. I guess I could treat the travel like some writers do, as a chance to see new places and experience new things . . . naw, not me. It’s all just work. Though my new goal is to learn to play better, and enjoy myself more. We’ll see if a life time of habits can be tweaked a bit. I know I need more fun in my life, or I’m going to loose my freaking mind. So, fun, or death? Hmm. It’s like that Eddie Izzard routine, "Cake, or death?" Everybody wants cake.

I’m off to the main part of the house. Jon has my new ipod ready for me to choose a play list, and start downloading, or uploading, or whatever the heck kind of loading it is. Do I put Audioslave back on? I was fast forwarding through it most of the time. Do I add Soundgarden? Do I add more Diary of Dreams? Do I put on more Tori Amos? What will work for this book, and for me? Too many choices. Did I mention in the blog earlier that the computer that we did a lot of our shared work on, died? It’s been an interesting week for technology for us. In that Chinese curse kind of way; you know, may you live in interesting times. If my life were anymore interesting than it is, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.