Norwescon is coming up the first weekend of April, and I’ll be on several panels again. Here’s my schedule. I think I’m doing the writer’s workshop again, but other than that and the listed panels below, it’ll be BarCon.

And yes, on the “Science of Magic” panel, I may play the “I’m a practicing magickian” card again. And I’ll report on the act of magick that came out of the WFC panel on the somewhat similar topic.

Whose Story Is It, Anyway? (Friday Noon Cascade 3&4)
Having trouble with too much villain and not enough hero in your stories? Do you have too much hero, while the villain never comes out of the woodwork? Striking a balance isn’t always easy, but sometimes a balanced tale isn’t the best thing to write, either. Come discuss with the pros which villain- or hero-heavy stories they thought worked, which ones didn’t, which ones were great when well-balanced, and which ones sucked anyway.
Christopher Bodan (M), Mark Teppo, Irene Radford, Jean Johnson

Fact and Fantasy (Saturday 11 am Cascade 6)
When does ‘staying real’ matter, and when does it just get in the way? Should fantasy Seattle streets match real Seattle streets perfectly? Does your pseudo-medieval weaponry have to perform like the real thing? How much can we alter history for the sake of the story before the reader cries ‘Enough!’
J. A. Pitts (M), Stina Leicht, Mark Teppo, Mary Robinette Kowal, Adrienne Carlson

Character Arc, Plot Arc — Story! (Saturday Noon Cascade 11)
Knowing how your plot and characters change as the tale moves forward helps a writer to craft more powerful stories. What makes a great character arc, and how can you make your character’s internal change more compelling? What makes a great plot arc, and how can you intertwine your plot with your character?
Carol Berg (M), Corry L. Lee, Mark Teppo, Mary Rosenblum

The Science of Magic (Saturday 6 pm Cascade 7)
How do you create a believable system of magic? Is knowledge of Latin useful? What about wands, crystal balls, and other tools? And, how do you create real jeopardy in a story when, literally, anything is possible?
Mickey “Meowse” Phoenix (M), Bart Kemper, Carol Berg, Mark Teppo

I’ve finally wrangled an iPhone, and for as much of an Apple fan as I’ve been over the last few years, I would have thought that the iPhone (after several iPods, an iTouch, and an iPad), I would be well past being impressed by Apple’s attention to detail and their technological implementation.

Nope. Still giddily taken by it all.

One of the apps I downloaded almost immediately was Instagram, mainly because I do not pretend to be a good photographer, but I do like to take pictures. The built-in filters with Instagram make every picture much better than they really are. Which delights me to no end.

And they are all the same size. Every time. Which makes tiling and big pages filled with lovely pictures that make the world seem more like a Terence Malick film than it really is.

Anyway, should you want to follow along as I take pictures and fiddle with filters, you can see all my efforts here at my Instagram profile.

Testing image imbedding capabilities. Ignore as necessary.

Typically, I ignore the beginning of the year as an externally-imposed Opportunity For Reflection for the obvious reasons, but I have found myself falling into the trap nonetheless. So, here I am, talking about the past and the future.

I’d rather not, really, and the reasons are part of the continuing issue I have with keeping the personal separate from the professional. Blogging, as a writer, is a means of keeping an open channel with the wider world, but so much of the day-to-day is filled with mundane shit that no one cares about, especially when it is of the “I didn’t get shit done, again, today” variety. And the rest is not really of anyone’s business, and I have, over the last year, come to realize that the last thing I really want to do–ever–is process my private life publicly.

So, briefly, 2011 was an incredibly hard year, but it was also an amazing year, and lot of it falls in the category of “Look, ma! Personal growth!” Professionally, I didn’t have a lot of fiction released that I could point to explicitly and say, “Yes, I wrote that,” but I can point to The Mongoliad and say, “Yes, I was key to that happening.”

In 2007, I wrote The Potemkin Mosaic, and it was the hardest thing I had ever done. When it was finished, I vowed to never do anything like that again. Last year, I didn’t; I did something harder. As we wrap up The Mongoliad, I have heard myself say that I don’t ever want to do something that complicated and difficult again, and in 2012, I won’t be. I’ll be doing something harder.

I am very fortunate to be able to keep what is fabulous and enriching in my life, as well as being blessed at being able to let go of what is rotten and broken. Much of the latter was my own attitude about life; much of it was my own fear of change. Change happens; what we do in response is nothing more than seizing opportunities.

Nothing is ever destroyed. It simply becomes something new. It is up to us to decide whether it is an obstacle or a piece of the foundation of something new. Do we keep climbing, or do we get caught up in the detritus of the past?

I’m climbing. You are all welcome to come along.

I’m deep in the Mongoliad deathmarch. Book 1 has been through editorial and is winging its way through production. Book 2 has been turned in, and we’re lashed to our keyboards through the end of the year, trying to finish this beast. I think we’re finally past that point of not being able to see the end. For several months, it seemed–no matter how much content we wrote–there was still 60,000 more words to write. Now, I think we’re past that point, and the remaining word count is diminishing. I hope.

In January, I have another project to sink myself into.

In February, there will be much noise about Sektrit Plan Alpha.

All in all, the writing continues at a breakneck pace. Blogging suffers.

In my efforts to become smarter, I will occasionally revisit things of the past and try them again with a more educated set of senses. Case in point: Ulver’s 10th anniversary remix disc, 1993-2003: 1st Decade In The Machine. I think Jester Records sent me a copy to review for earPollution, and I’m pretty sure I didn’t get it.

And looking through the archives, I see that I never reviewed an Ulver record during the eP era, and I wonder if I hadn’t really discovered them yet.

Anyway, the remixes. I seem to recall only recognizing Fennesz, Merzbow, and Bogdan Raczynski. when I first saw the disc. Now, it reads as Ulver having a very hip circle of friends in the electronic music world. At first pass, I wonder if Ulver’s most hardened fans scratched their heads in confusion as well. Given the band’s direction on Perdition City and the following EPs, the list of participants makes a great deal of sense. And the record is certainly a glitch fest. Some of it is the sort of squealing tone waves that I’ve given myself clearance to no longer pretend I have to say kind things about (in the abstract, it is interesting; it just isn’t interesting to listen to), and some of it does take Ulver’s stripped down electronic lounge sound in interesting directions. As Ulver’s sound has continually changed from record to record, you start to wonder how you can talk about some of these aural efforts as being unlike anything Ulver has done because they could very well be the sound of the next record.

I’ve been waiting for War of the Roses to grow on me. I see that they’re releasing a live DVD from the Norwegian National Opera, and given the track listing, it should be an interesting listening experience. Visually too, if the live visuals for “Norwegian Gothic” (at the War of the Roses link listed above) are any indication.

Also, there is a track by track interview at the War of the Roses site that was conducted by the Freethinkers blog that is worth watching. (Oh, it’s a Pop record.) And Jørn’s quote–”The paradox always has a home with us”–sums up the Ulver sound so well.

The kids and I watched Cars 2 tonight, and we got the hint in the “Air Mater” short about planes. I dug around on the disc a bit and found the Planes trailer. I watched it in slack-jawed disbelief. Mostly because I couldn’t see how Pixar would settle for having a White Zombie song as the background music for . . . ANYTHING.

But then, at the end, I saw the telltale reason. Planes is a DISNEY movie. Not a Disney Pixar movie. Not a Pixar movie. A DISNEY movie.

And Disney never passed up an opportunity to wring everything magical out of a property in the search for squeezing parents out of a few more dollars.

I have to admit that when I first saw the trailer for Cars 2 and the fact that it was a joint production between Disney and Pixar, I was afraid. Needlessly so, as it turned out because I found Cars 2 to be better than the first, but that may have more than a little bit to do with the fact that I’m one of those dads for whom all the James Bond gags are written for, plus I can tell how much fun Eddie Izzard and Michael Caine are having. Always a bonus.

But, pursuant to the topic of my last post, I suppose you can’t blame Disney. They do know they have a dedicated content consumption pipeline. Why wouldn’t you keep it filled?

And you know Rob Zombie cashed that licensing check without a moment’s hesitation. Hell, I would too.

Any large writer convention always leaves me with a flurry of seemingly-unrelated thoughts, and it usually takes a few days before I start to see the connective threads between them. I went round and round on the concept of “buying” versus “shopping,” and how both of these mindsets are equally applicable to the consumer. There was much talk of e-publishing and the new future of books (or the near death of books, depending on who you talked to). And always thinking about content.

Let’s start with a post from a few months ago by John Gruber. I enjoy Gruber’s analysis of all things Apple, and often his analysis extends to the Whys of tech business. His deconstruction of the Kindle Fire announcement, for example. Among other things, he says, “Amazon’s primary business is as a retailer, including as a retailer of digital content.” If you look at the Kindle Fire as a device to consume digital content, then its entry into the marketplace is to compete with Apple, and in that regard, the ubiquitous Amazon Kindle device is simply to facilitate consumption of Amazon-generated content. They don’t make money from the device; they make money from content bought for that device. That’s the long-term revenue stream.

In that sense, Amazon isn’t competing with traditional publishing. By entering publishing themselves, they’re simply creating a content pipeline that they control. Yes, there are concerns about them controlling the whole stack from content to delivery, but you can also argue that optimizing that stack may also mean that distance between creator and consumer is shortened.

Because, let’s be honest, the real death of the midlist author is obscurity.

Additionally, there’s been some animated discussion on the ‘tubes about the relationship between author and publisher (it started with a Barry Eisler post on J. A. Konrath’s blog, which in term referenced a post by Michael Stackpole), and I am not even going to get into a discussion about the language used in said posts because I think the more important thing is the point that was being made: the traditional relationship between author and publisher is heavily weighted in favor of the publisher.

Mr. Stackpole offered a follow-up post after WFC, and K. J. Jeter offered his own commentary on his blog as well as posting some other insight in a guest post at Dean Wesley Smith’s blog. Not to mention Dean’s own observation about the new world of publishing.

Go read, if you like. It’s all useful commentary, and the multiplicity of sources only drives home the point. Which is: content is where the power is. We shouldn’t feel bad about controlling it. And we should make as much of it as we like.

Remember the days when an author was only allowed to write one book a year? Boy, am I glad those days are gone. It’s time to recognize that our audiences are hungry for new content, and the digital age of publishing only means that we, as content creators, are more able to give our audiences what they want. They, in turn, seem increasingly happy to pay us a reasonable sum for that content.

What’s the downside to all this? Oh yes, we have to put our butts in our chairs and write. A lot. Bummer, that.

I never know when to leave conventions, and World Fantasy Convention always flummoxes me. Do I stay through the banquet, congratulate the winners, and then leave? Do I leave Sunday morning and simply miss the last day of watching the dead lumber around? Or do I wait until the site goes quiet for the banquet and then take my leave?

It always feels like I’m slipping out of a friend’s house while they’ve left the room for a moment to use the bathroom.

But WFC 2011 is behind us now. Tonight is Halloween, and due to the timing of the con, it will be the first Halloween I’ve done with BOTH kids. And that realization takes a lot of the sting out of leaving. That last hour, however, was still filled with the frantic calculations of when you will see everyone again.

Did I accomplish the business I hoped to do? Not entirely. Did other awesome and interesting opportunities present themselves? Yes, they did. Going to WFC reminds me why one should never set one’s five- and ten- year plans in stone. One should always be flexible. One should always be ready to say “yes” to something new and unexpected without thinking too much about how that project will actually come together. WFC reminds me that, while writing can be a solitary experience, creating is not. As much as I love writing, I do love creating more.

My convention began with a panel on Magic and Metaphysics. Ted Chiang, Kristin Janz, Peter Orullian and I kept an audience entertained for more than an hour at a time past when panels are supposed to be interesting. A number of people stopped me throughout the rest of the con, expressing their appreciation for our discussion and clearly wishing we could continue it. One gentleman actually posed a very interesting non-fiction book idea that, at the very least, might be an interesting follow-up panel. Perhaps at Norwescon in the spring.

I signed copies of Lightbreaker and Heartland at the Night Shade Books table for a few hours on Saturday. I felt very much like the shabby cousin, surrounded by the depth and breadth of the New Voices program that the Shade has launched this fall. So very many gorgeously designed and enticing books. I made up for my feelings of inadequancy among these wunderkind by personalizing the remaining copies of my books before I left. I didn’t just sign them; I left little messages in each. I hope they all find happy homes.

One of my favorite conversations was not about fantasy or science fiction or the business of publishing but about Sir Richard Burton and the terror of William Blake, about the Coen Brothers and David Fincher and their fierce vision of making film, about Thucydidies and Xenophon and how The Aeneid was nothing more than fan fiction (but yes, we’d all read parts of it in the original Latin).

I miss you all, crazy dreamers. But now we must go work through the cold winter.

I’ll be attending World Fantasy Convention next week in San Diego, CA. While seeing all of my pals, I will also be moderating a panel on Thursday evening at 10:00PM. It’s called “Magic and Metaphysics.” Here’s the panel description:

What makes a magic system believable? Authors and world builders create the rules that govern their magic when the whole point of magic, one would think, is to break the rules. Is it reasonable to try to constrain magic by the laws of nature? Bonewitz proposed a whole set of rules based on principles such as similarity and contagion? Is a logical and consistent magical system actually magic?

It’ll be held in Pacific 2/3, which I would assume to a nicely sized room. On the panel with me are Ted Chiang, Kristin Janz, and Peter Orullian. Drop by. It looks like it will be a fun panel.