ContraFlow III will be my second convention as a panel participant. I am looking forward to it with great anticipation. A couple years ago Alistair and I got it into our heads to do something like this, and now it's actually happening:
Diana Rowland, Alistair Kimble, and I are doing a panel entitled Frontier Law, moderated by Mark L. Van Name at 1100am on Saturday. We plan to lay down the law about a few subjects, namely how law enforcement would be forced to adapt to mind-readers, aliens, elves and all the other awesome in speculative fiction. The panelists have a combined 30 years of law enforcement experience at varied levels, including federal.
We hope to bring the panel to other conventions in the future, and having Myke Cole join us.
The things Griffin Barber thinks about when he's thinking, which is not necessarily often. And they are my thoughts and opinions, not, in any way, those of the Department I work for.
Showing posts with label Mark Van Name. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mark Van Name. Show all posts
Monday, October 14, 2013
Friday, September 7, 2012
How Did Chicon Go, You Ask?
Why, it was most excellent, thank you.
I did what I usually do, drank, ate and mucked about with some of my favorite people. Alistair Kimble was my wingman and guide for it all (I lost my guidebook within minutes of getting the damn thing.).
Highlights included:
Dinner at Gene & Georgetti's. Mark Van Name was kind enough to invite us after I'd suggested the place as somewhere he might like to dine. I hadn't eaten there in more than 14 years, and they did not fail my recommendation.
A Literary Bheers with Chuck Gannon, which was lots of fun and resulted in a tale that shall be told a few more times in the future.
The Baen Party: I love this publishing house, and know many of their authors, so I enjoyed myself quite a bit.
Hanging at the Big Bar and soaking in the sights and conversation with folks like Writer's of The Future winner, David Carani and several other winners of that competition, including an old hand, Myke Cole.
Another fine dinner with Eric Flint, Chuck Gannon, and several other contributors to the Grantville Gazette. It was nice to put faces to names.
I also met a few more people I have seen before but not had opportunity to speak to before...
I did what I usually do, drank, ate and mucked about with some of my favorite people. Alistair Kimble was my wingman and guide for it all (I lost my guidebook within minutes of getting the damn thing.).
Highlights included:
Dinner at Gene & Georgetti's. Mark Van Name was kind enough to invite us after I'd suggested the place as somewhere he might like to dine. I hadn't eaten there in more than 14 years, and they did not fail my recommendation.
A Literary Bheers with Chuck Gannon, which was lots of fun and resulted in a tale that shall be told a few more times in the future.
The Baen Party: I love this publishing house, and know many of their authors, so I enjoyed myself quite a bit.
Hanging at the Big Bar and soaking in the sights and conversation with folks like Writer's of The Future winner, David Carani and several other winners of that competition, including an old hand, Myke Cole.
Another fine dinner with Eric Flint, Chuck Gannon, and several other contributors to the Grantville Gazette. It was nice to put faces to names.
I also met a few more people I have seen before but not had opportunity to speak to before...
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Circles of a Social Nature
This World Fantasy Convention was a new, greater experience for me...
Don't get me wrong, last year's WFC was a very special one as well:
I had the pleasure of meeting a number of the writers from Baen Books, some of whom I have read since my teens. David Drake is a font of information and very willing to inform and educate, at least before the asteroid takes him out.
One, a man whose work I was not familiar with before the convention, has become something of a mentor for me. I mention him quite often here. Thank you, Mark Van Name.
Peter V Brett, who is not a Baen writer, is a phenomenal fantasy writer I had not read before the convention. He and his friends are the New Yorkers those of us who are not from that city never hear about; they are uniformly kind and generous. Then again, that might be a product of the man they call friend. I returned home and read his work, posting about it immediately after.
I briefly spoke with several editors, discovering that, despite my cringing desire to bow and scrape before them, they are people too, with all that means.
Last year I was in a bad place at the end of the con, and came away upset yet lit up by the experience.
So, 2010 rolls around, and I know I have to go.
This year was exceptional: Despite my behavior, I am not a true extrovert. I must run up a charge to fully engage. It is far easier to do this from a place of comfort, such as surrounded or at least in the company of friends. Casting about for such a network at the con, I asked my friends, all of them, if they would be able to come and share the experience with me.
All but one couldn't make it. Kyle is my oldest friend. We've known one another for 28 years. We hadn't seen each other in about three years, when another of our friends was leaving for Afghanistan. Holding my breath that he, too would somehow be prevented from coming at the last moment, I planned my attendance.
I began the con with a small circle.
This year I attended a few panels, being both educated and enjoying them.
The first one, Fantasy Gun Control, was moderated by Chuck Gannon and had as one of its participants Walter Jon Williams, a writer both Kyle and I have been reading since we were fifteen. Gannon was an excellent moderator, and the panel exceptional despite one audience member failing to show common courtesy and eat his breakfast elsewhere. Another member of the audience, Alistair Kimble, displayed a similar mindset to my own in his questions to the panel. After the panel I had an opportunity to speak to Chuck Gannon, Kimble, and Walter Jon Williams.
I will not bore you with a further list of who I met and where, but instead present to you why these panels and the minor events that spring from them have significance.
Kimble was the gentleman I mentioned in an earlier post who, based on my t-shirt the night prior, believed me an asshat. Why his low opinion of me improved over the next few minutes, I am not sure. He is also a writer with works out to publishers and high hopes for the future. We spoke at length to a british gentleman and literary agent, then went to another panel or two together. We also discovered common intersection in our day jobs.
My circle grew.
I used my familiarity with the few writers I know to make introductions for both Kyle and Alistair to authors of my acquaintance. Much of this was transacted at the bar, but some was after panels or in elevators and the parties each night.
Myke Cole, one of Peter V Brett's inner circle of friends, is also a writer of fantasy. He is a man who gets things done. Many think him an extrovert reveling in the attention of the convention-goers. Like all things, it is more complicated than that: I believe I know the what it costs him to do as he does, feeling many of those costs myself. I bring him up because he too acts as the social lubricant for his friends and acquaintances at these events.
Indeed Myke introduced me to many new friends at the event, including the beautiful and talented Sara McClung, Carolina Valdez-Miller, and Karen Hooper, whom I have collectively dubbed the UFGirlz. They are all on the verge of great things, and it was their first World Fantasy.
My circle expanded.
Later, the UFGirlz introduced me to their friends, Gina Penney, a horror writer and Ricki Schultz a contemporary young adult writer. In turn I introduced them to others of my acquaintance, Mark Van Name, and others I knew or had been introduced to.
My circle expanded yet again, as did theirs.
I look about at our forebears in the field, and see that many knew each other. Many were friends. Many talk of those that have gone before as their idols, much as I speak of them.
These circles, these connections, will be the grand avenues down which great things reach us and we are carried on to our futures. I love the idea that I might have helped to spread the gravel at the base of such a roadway, not only for the things it might bring me, but everyone in the varied circles of our lives.
We pay forward all things.
The good.
The bad.
Everything.
Don't get me wrong, last year's WFC was a very special one as well:
I had the pleasure of meeting a number of the writers from Baen Books, some of whom I have read since my teens. David Drake is a font of information and very willing to inform and educate, at least before the asteroid takes him out.
One, a man whose work I was not familiar with before the convention, has become something of a mentor for me. I mention him quite often here. Thank you, Mark Van Name.
Peter V Brett, who is not a Baen writer, is a phenomenal fantasy writer I had not read before the convention. He and his friends are the New Yorkers those of us who are not from that city never hear about; they are uniformly kind and generous. Then again, that might be a product of the man they call friend. I returned home and read his work, posting about it immediately after.
I briefly spoke with several editors, discovering that, despite my cringing desire to bow and scrape before them, they are people too, with all that means.
Last year I was in a bad place at the end of the con, and came away upset yet lit up by the experience.
So, 2010 rolls around, and I know I have to go.
This year was exceptional: Despite my behavior, I am not a true extrovert. I must run up a charge to fully engage. It is far easier to do this from a place of comfort, such as surrounded or at least in the company of friends. Casting about for such a network at the con, I asked my friends, all of them, if they would be able to come and share the experience with me.
All but one couldn't make it. Kyle is my oldest friend. We've known one another for 28 years. We hadn't seen each other in about three years, when another of our friends was leaving for Afghanistan. Holding my breath that he, too would somehow be prevented from coming at the last moment, I planned my attendance.
I began the con with a small circle.
This year I attended a few panels, being both educated and enjoying them.
The first one, Fantasy Gun Control, was moderated by Chuck Gannon and had as one of its participants Walter Jon Williams, a writer both Kyle and I have been reading since we were fifteen. Gannon was an excellent moderator, and the panel exceptional despite one audience member failing to show common courtesy and eat his breakfast elsewhere. Another member of the audience, Alistair Kimble, displayed a similar mindset to my own in his questions to the panel. After the panel I had an opportunity to speak to Chuck Gannon, Kimble, and Walter Jon Williams.
I will not bore you with a further list of who I met and where, but instead present to you why these panels and the minor events that spring from them have significance.
Kimble was the gentleman I mentioned in an earlier post who, based on my t-shirt the night prior, believed me an asshat. Why his low opinion of me improved over the next few minutes, I am not sure. He is also a writer with works out to publishers and high hopes for the future. We spoke at length to a british gentleman and literary agent, then went to another panel or two together. We also discovered common intersection in our day jobs.
My circle grew.
I used my familiarity with the few writers I know to make introductions for both Kyle and Alistair to authors of my acquaintance. Much of this was transacted at the bar, but some was after panels or in elevators and the parties each night.
Myke Cole, one of Peter V Brett's inner circle of friends, is also a writer of fantasy. He is a man who gets things done. Many think him an extrovert reveling in the attention of the convention-goers. Like all things, it is more complicated than that: I believe I know the what it costs him to do as he does, feeling many of those costs myself. I bring him up because he too acts as the social lubricant for his friends and acquaintances at these events.
Indeed Myke introduced me to many new friends at the event, including the beautiful and talented Sara McClung, Carolina Valdez-Miller, and Karen Hooper, whom I have collectively dubbed the UFGirlz. They are all on the verge of great things, and it was their first World Fantasy.
My circle expanded.
Later, the UFGirlz introduced me to their friends, Gina Penney, a horror writer and Ricki Schultz a contemporary young adult writer. In turn I introduced them to others of my acquaintance, Mark Van Name, and others I knew or had been introduced to.
My circle expanded yet again, as did theirs.
I look about at our forebears in the field, and see that many knew each other. Many were friends. Many talk of those that have gone before as their idols, much as I speak of them.
These circles, these connections, will be the grand avenues down which great things reach us and we are carried on to our futures. I love the idea that I might have helped to spread the gravel at the base of such a roadway, not only for the things it might bring me, but everyone in the varied circles of our lives.
We pay forward all things.
The good.
The bad.
Everything.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Some May Wonder...
Some may wonder why I've been rather intermittent with the bloggage lately. The reason is simple: I have been eating my way through some of the finer restaruants in the Bay Area with Mark L. Van Name and his companions in culinary exploration, Jennie and Ticia.
For the price of a ride, walking tour of Mission streets, and what little contribution I can make to table conversation, I was treated to Chez Panisse on Thursday, Ti Couz for lunch yesterday, a milkshake at St. Francis Soda Fountain, and Incanto last night. All were good meals, but the company and conversation were what drove the excursions from the merely pleasant to the exceptional experience.
Tonight: SF in SF, then Flour + Water.
I'm gonna 'splode all over the wall at this rate.
For the price of a ride, walking tour of Mission streets, and what little contribution I can make to table conversation, I was treated to Chez Panisse on Thursday, Ti Couz for lunch yesterday, a milkshake at St. Francis Soda Fountain, and Incanto last night. All were good meals, but the company and conversation were what drove the excursions from the merely pleasant to the exceptional experience.
Tonight: SF in SF, then Flour + Water.
I'm gonna 'splode all over the wall at this rate.
Monday, August 9, 2010
Worthy Causes, Wondrous Worlds
My friend, Mark Van Name, has done a very special thing: He is donating all the profits from his book, Children No More to Falling Whistles, an organization dedicated to trying to save children from being forced to become child soldiers. Please, if you have a moment, try and hit these sites, and if you have a bit of coin to spare, buy the book or donate directly to Falling Whistles.
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