The Author At BABScon, A Pictorial

BABScon is a MLP convention.  Now, I love cartoons, and I love the current MLP cartoon, but I really went there to spend time with Dana, a friend who lives waaaaay across the country and I don't get to see much.  We spent most of the time sitting at a dealer's table.  Still, I took home photos of whatever I found neat!

We begin at the airport as I was leaving town!  Not a place I normally expect to photograph things, but then I saw these peculiar signs.  Was there a dress code someone forgot to tell me about?

You see all kinds of neat things on the plane.  I hardly ever see actual classic factory type buildings from the ground, with smokestacks and everything.

And then this place.  I photographed it because it looks freakishly exactly like a Sim City block.

My attempts to capture how cool cities look from the air completely failed.  This is as close as I got

Chicago, on the other hand, turned out pretty great.  The clustered together skyscrapers are really dramatic next to the lake.

I don't know what I was trying to photograph here, but the blue sky and the sea of clouds justify themselves.

These mountains were hardcore.

I don't think of mountains as happening in layers, which proves that it's a good thing I'm getting to see what they're really like from the air.

I still don't know what these are.  Salt pits?  Deserts?  Quarries?

And finally, the convention!  I wish I could convey in pictures how badly designed the hotel was for human habitation.  All pretense of navigability was given up to allow for this huge, beautiful atrium.  BUT, the atrium is not the point of this photo!  Witness instead how we were greeted by random people we don't know!  Folks arriving on the first day of any convention tend to be friendly, and they waved to us up on the balcony.

Here is Dana waving back.  She will probably kill me when she sees how unflattering this photo is.  I'm posting it anyway!  You can't see me wave back because, obviously, I had to take the photos.

An old man wearing a Pinkie Pie shirt directs traffic.  I knew we had arrived at a My Little Pony convention.  The attendees covered absolutely every age, gender, ethnicity, and social group.

A slightly more flattering photo of Dana, taken because I thought the froth of her strawberry milkshake looked cool.

The view outside my hotel room window.  I can only conclude that there's a villain's underground bunker beneath the hotel.

Setting up the vendor table was tiring, and I headed out to enjoy the California sunshine - something I have dearly missed.  Poolside, I met this fine fellow, and followed him through his many attempts to escape the paparazzi.

Alas, eventually he succeeded.

COSTUME TIME.  Little Girl Pinkie Pie, go!

The griffon chef from the train episode!  Bonus coolness:  This guy sold eclairs, and in many cases gave them away for free.

Not sure who she is cosplaying specifically.  Didn't really care.  Neat Wonderbolts costume.

Little girls, grown men, old men, young women, mothers, we had 'em all, in every level of costumery!  Note the hooves.  Much easier than three fingered toon glove costumes.

Not a costume.  I just really liked this lady's dress.  At the edge of the shot, notice the Artist Cage that Dana carefully built around herself.

The other side of the Artist Cage, and a guy with a horse on his shoulder buying art from Dana.  Dana obviously cannot be seen in these pictures, because Artist Cage.

I didn't photograph many of the dealer displays, but these plush toys were incredible - and cost $400 minimum.

Princess Luna fondles her horn.  I never claimed to be tasteful.

Just some really freaking dapper people.

One of Dana's customers.  When I saw the braces, I had to get a photo.  It turns out little girls like unicorns.  Who knew?  Oh, and check out the necklace!

All I had to do was yell 'Hey, Applejack!' and she turned around.  True story.

So... many... little girls... in costume!  CUTENESS OVERLOAD.

And finally, MY people arrive.  I love cute and dark, and this Pinkamina/Cupcakes costume had me squeeing.  This photo is presented in its original size, because there's so much detail in the dress.

Pinkamina poses, just for me!

Our next-table-neighbor was Ratgirl Productions.  She didn't show up on Friday, but when she arrived on Saturday, she was SO friendly, and the costume head was cute beyond belief!

On the edge of this photo, note Dana's giant Heavenly Nostrils banner, which kept us cramped up against our table.

Dana, being Horse Famous, gets invited to all kinds of stuff.  Just about everybody in this photo is a voice actor for MLP.

Babs Seed's voice actress is quiet, but friendly.  The other CMC actresses gave her that hoodie.  Yes, that is a copy of Please Don't Tell My Parents I'm A Supervillain that I shamelessly gave to her as a gift.  Schmoozing!  (Okay, I confess, I really liked her.)

Dana and Princess Celestia's voice actress talk about stuff.

Dana and Princess Celestia's voice actress, both drunk off their gourds and babbling about making a Heavenly Nostrils cartoon, pose for a picture.

The plushie folks switched up their lineup with this amazing Trixie on a rotating stand.

Flim and Flam costumes:  Simple and classy.

They said they'd drop by our table.  Brian and Brynna Drummond, posing with Dana, who gets to do all the posing.  Also she's more huggable than I am.  BAH.

The sourfaced Angel totally made this costume.

I thought Future Twilight was a pretty clever costume idea.  This is Sunday, and as you can see everyone's packing up.

Monday!  We tried to tool around San Francisco.  Didn't really work.  We couldn't get to the beach, but I love the ocean, love it dearly and fiercely, and we at least got to stop at some overlooks.


Here I photographed things on a cliff we never identified.

 The sea, photographed as best I could over a fence.  Still beautiful.

City lights at night, on the plane ride home.
 

Weary of mind and body and especially feet, in the Chicago airport I ran into someone even more worn out than me.
 

I had a wonderful trip.  My deepest regret is that I never thought to photograph any of my customers, especially the ten year old girl who came back twice because she loved all my books and couldn't decide which to spend her precious $12 on.

Whew!

I'm back from BABScon!  Nobody recognized me there, so maybe bronies aren't my target audience.  On the other hand, I sold out my whole supply of books.  The person most interested, who came back twice because she couldn't decide which book to buy, was a ten year old girl.  If ten year old girls turn out to be my target audience, I am FINE with that.

I got a little writing done while I was there, but it really only served to make me obsessively sit down and finish the chapter when I got home.  The sequel is coming along nicely.  The setup is just about finished, and like many of my books, the plot is about to veer off in a new direction.

My tradition has been to post chapters as I write them for the first third to half of my book.  My publisher does not want me to do that, which is sad, but I can assure you that this chapter featured lightning wisps, mysterious telegrams, and jokes about Huichtilopochtli!

And Now The Book Is (Temporarily) Cheap

Okay!  If you're reading this, odds are 99% that you already have a copy of Please Don't Tell My Parents I'm A Supervillain.

BUT, my publisher is running a sale today.  99 cents.  That's crazy, so if you have any friends or something you wanted to give copies to, now would be the time.

It'll go up a dollar per day until it's back to $4.99.  Good luck!

Obligatory Amazon link to make it easy.

Random Book Review: The Hellbound Heart

Okay, I left that last post up forever because I wanted people to know that, yes, sequel.  Sequel will happen.

But it's time to move on!

I like to read source material, stories that created archtypes.  Most of them are old - Grimm's Fairy Tales, Peter Pan, Frankenstein, and so on.  The Hellbound Heart is much more recent, but it inspired the Hellraiser series, which really revived the whole Lovecraftian 'circle of candlelight surrounded by a darkness full of horrors' thing.

So, I got it cheap off Amazon (Might even have been free.  Can't remember.) and read the Hellbound Heart to see how this started.  I'm going to want to slip a few biological horrors into At Least I Didn't Blow Up OUR Moon, and it might be good inspiration!

So, how good was the book?  Not very.  It's short, although that's not a good or bad thing, just worth pointing out.  A long short story rather than a book.  My reaction is split into two halves.

First, the ideas are freaking awesome.  The subtle suggestion that one of the Cenobites ('the Engineer') is god, that was clever.  Lamarchand's box, the idea that the music and ritual configurations of opening the box open a portal, also really clever.  Angels are murderous sadomasochists because they demand intense physical sensation over anything else, a cute twist.  Very nice Lovecraftianism there, actually.  It both makes sense and turns morality on its head, creating a new and believable kind of evil.  That is a very, very useful thing for any writer to consider.

My favorite touch by far was when an innocent opens the box by accident, and the Cenobite shows up - and is totally disappointed.  The box is a Faustian contract.  The Cenobites take people to be tortured who ask for pleasures beyond human understanding, and they get what humans do not understand as pleasure.  The Cenobite expresses that it isn't interested in humans who aren't deliberately asking for what they get.  Once the box is opened, the Cenobites have to take someone, but they give her a chance to provide a victim who really did ask for it.

And now the bad news.  The ideas may be good, and even the plot is decent, but the writing is terrible.  Oh Sun Pony, is it bad.  The beginning actually sucks you in, because you think you're reading about some guy back in the 1700s or early 1800s, with their grandiose writing style.  'I have become jaded of the pleasures of the flesh' kind of rhetoric, right?

Nope, it's set in the 80s.  The writing is just that purple.  It goes on like that, with senses of dread and cacophanies of beating wings.  There's not a lot of 'show' and a great deal of 'tell', although some of the physical descriptions of torture are pretty good, and thus effective.  A few good sentences in a novella is not much of a prize.

The characters are worse.  They aren't two dimensional, they're one dimensional.  Each character has one emotion.  That emotion defines them, consumes them, obsesses them.  Frank is a selfish hedonist.  He hardly even has any personality at all, he just does whatever's selfish.  Rory is so clueless it's a wonder he can tie his own shoes.  His role is to never understand anything that's going on, and to have just enough actions to demonstrate he doesn't understand what's going on at any particular moment.  Julia is an unhappy wife.  Why she isn't happy being married to Rory is never clear.  There's no depth to it.  She reacts to everything he does with 'Ugh, why isn't he his sexy brother?'  Rory fails to pick up on that, and that's their entire relationship and really their entire personalities.  Kirsty is depressed and thinks constantly about how inferior she is.  Again, not explained, and the only fleshing out it gets is that she has a crush on Rory.  That's only used for 'But I'm not good enough for him because I suck.'

Thank the Sun Pony the book is short.  I got the ideas without suffering too much of the writing.  I'm happy I read it, but only because I can strain out a few useful concepts and lessons as a writer.  I wouldn't recommend it to anybody.

Stupendous Sales and Sequel Sample

I am completely dumbfounded.  I think I went from being my publisher's worst selling author to best selling author in a week.  Please Don't Tell My Parents I'm A Supervillain is selling as well as the best known children's books, and its sales numbers have kept going up and up.  I'm in about the top 1% of Amazon ebook sales now.  My publisher thinks they can bring that up further.

I'm reeling.  I've spent large portions of this week having my friends go 'Oh, your numbers shot way up again today' and wandering around bumping into things and giggling the rest of the day.

I've had a sequel in mind anyway.  Kinda thinking I should fast track that.  I am happier than I've been in years, but all my plans are also blown right out of the water!

When I start outlining a new book, I like to do a sample page or two.  It's often the beginning of the book.  That helps me get into the mindset.  With that in mind, have the beginning of...

At Least I Didn't Blow Up OUR Moon

Random Movie Review - Nothing Sacred

I find classic movies very interesting, and have not watched nearly enough of them.  I was delighted when a friend bought me Nothing Sacred, a 1937 comedy starring Carole Lombard.

The thing is, having watched it, I cannot review it in the classical sense.  The tone and pacing and style of humor were completely different from modern movies.  Trying to rate how good it is becomes an apples and oranges issue.

Instead, I thought I would talk about those apples-to-oranges issues.  Cultural differences interest me, and 1937 vs 2014 is like two different countries.  Ostensibly we share the same language, but the basic understandings have changed.

The first thing that struck me is that the movie is in color.  I tried to find the setting to watch it in the original black and white, only to find out that it was filmed in Technicolor, which was invented in 1932.  I really should have known that, but I didn't.  It's a peculiar washed-out color, but it's color.  I hadn't realized that films like Casablanca (1942) chose to be in black and white.  Given the quality of the early Technicolor experience, that was probably for the best.

Racism tends to leap to the fore in old movies.  A black actor (Troy Brown) had a major role, and while his picture in the opening credits was a classic fat-lipped negro stereotype, all of the actors were featured in similarly unflattering ways.  I was deeply surprised to see him in the very first scene as a respected and respectable king from the mysterious Orient.  No, not so much.  Turned out he was a bumbling petty crook, with a thick 'Yessuh Massa' type accent, very friendly but not bright, cheerfully dishonest on the level of swaggering and singing as he stole a few flowers for his girlfriend from someone else's bouquet.  Not only was he a racist stereotype, he was the stereotype of racist stereotypes.  Also, notice that a very black man could believably pose to be an 'Oriental' ruler.  Part of that was a joke, I'm sure, but it still reveals a deep 'Everything but Europe is the same' attitude.

Fair enough, this was a 30s film and that opinion of racism, however offensive we know it to be now, was normal.  The subtlety that I thought really reflected the difference in racial attitudes came later.  A model class of school children are featured briefly.  They are clearly meant to represent the diversity of America, and even include two black children at the front.  The rest, ranging from Tom Sawyer rough clothes to neat little suits, are different European descent stereotypes.  I don't know enough of those old stereotypes to tell you who was who, but the camera lingered closely on different individuals of such wildly different clothing, facial shape, and hair type that this scene was clearly meant to celebrate American diversity.

 The movie treats us to interesting internal USA stereotypes as well.  A heavily used joke is that everyone in Vermont expects to be paid, even for being unhelpful.  The lack of a telephone in the Vermont town we might expect from our modern concept of those days, and also horses being the only vehicles in this backwoods town.  What I was not expecting is that it was a 'company town'.  Everyone in town worked for one company, and was absolutely loyal, to the point of refusing to talk to outsiders.  That's a concept that has almost disappeared in our time.

Carole Lombard as the choice of lead actress struck me with how much Hollywood tastes have changed.  She had a delicate and beautiful face, but was as flat as a board.  These days, bust size is much more important when Hollywood picks beautiful actresses.  Advertisements for the movie feature a lot of close-ups of her face.  Her beauty was clearly a selling point.

At the time, I was struck by how small the airplane they took to get to New York was.  It didn't hit me until later that it had to be small.  This movie was pre-WWII, and there were no jet planes.

New York's reputation for gaudy cynicism, corruption, and crowded streets has not changed in 80 years.

I have saved the most important issue for last.  It is hard for me to be absolutely sure about any of these judgments, because the nature of comedy itself has changed.  The humor in this movie was very sly.  It was almost all about exaggerated representations of people or clever filming.  The hostile Vermont townfolk refuse to speak in more than one word sentences.  In one scene a very serious - even grim - conversation is held between two characters with a large potted plant between them, and for every line they have to lean forward  to talk past it, then sit back.  When the doctor goes on his ranting lectures, he leans forward a little more and a little more, gradually, until whoever he's yelling at has to push him back upright.  Given the worst job in the newspaper building, the shamed lead sits at his desk as people back into his space to access drawers, or lean ladders right over him, dropping occasional files on his head.  It's all continuous, with no sharp beats.  Very unlike modern comedy.

I should have saved something clever for the end of this review, but I didn't.  To sum up, I found Nothing Sacred very interesting and clever, but not exactly funny.  Comedy has changed too much.  I certainly enjoyed watching it.