A woman with a ukele killed my grandfather

So, a bunch of neat stuff to read today.  If you really love me, you’ll read them all.  If you don’t, I will probably paint a picture in my own feces, using the tears coming from my wracking sobs to dilute between the various shades of brown, that I will later put on your porch and set fire to while standing in the background holding a boombox over my head playing Chris Dane Owens’ smash hit of nothing Shine on Me. The picture was of a happy little turtle.  He’s on fire now.  I hope you’re satisfied.

FIRST read my latest article for the BSC Review in which I impotently rage against a genre much more popular than my own and try to disguise it as constructive and witty insight into its flaws.

NOW read this: HEY, BLACK HALO IS OUT THIS MONTH!

What are you doing to prepare for its release?  Are you organizing mud wrestling matches to help young people who could barely afford their thongs to afford the book?  Are you camping the bookshelves well in advance, for fear that a greasy, glasses-wearing fellow known only as “The Hustle” will come and buy all the copies (because he totally will)?  Are you threatening other authors to keep their grubby little hands away from my precious shelf space?

It’s important to do these things, really, as book sales rely on fair trades and mature agreements by all…that we must destroy if we are to assume the mantle of leadership.

Now have a look at THIS. My boy Mark Charan Newton brings up an excellent discussion on race and sexuality in fantasy, noting the conservativism of the genre.  The comments are all well worth reading and I wanted to weigh in only with this:

I don’t attribute to malice what I can attribute to fear.  I sometimes wonder if aspiring authors sometimes follow trends or patterns (such as white, straight males with white, straight male problems) out of a fear of not being able to make it on their own ideas.  It’s a valid fear, as we’ve seen some bestsellers display a rather ho hum amount of originality or expansiveness.  But recall that fear is easily justified by calling it respect for tradition and I’ve frequently railed against the ridiculousness of that.  And recall that fear is anathema to art.

If you want to write something that goes against the mold, don’t be afraid.  If you want to write something that defies genre patterns, don’t fear to do it.  The only people who will resent you for it are the ones that weren’t going to read you, anyway.

AND FINALLY, I will be at the TUCSON FESTIVAL OF BOOKS (March 12-13th) next week.  Holy shit!  Hosted on the University of Arizona Campus, I’ll be hanging out at the Mysterious Galaxy Booth (#249-#251, though I will be kind of hard to miss, striding amongst the tiny creatures like a colossus).

Will they be selling copies of Black Halo?

They sure as shit will try.

If not, stop on by.  Shoot the shit.  Tell me I’m pretty.  I will sign your books with great vigor and possibly ink.

Okay, good.

We have that settled.

Now go get yourself some spinach.  You’ve earned it.