What an amazing weekend! We tend to underestimate things near us, don’t we? “It’s a twenty-minute drive away, so it surely won’t be very good.” But some people live twenty minutes away from Mammoth Cave or the Grand Canyon.
I just spent the weekend at Confluence, the annual sf/fantasy/horror convention held in Pittsburgh, and WOW! This is definitely (Lord willing) going to be an every-year event for me! It far, far, FAR exceeded my expectations. Yes, everything was on a slightly smaller scale than World Fantasy. But that, I discovered, can be a really good thing. There wasn’t the craziness, there weren’t the obligations . . . I found myself able to relax, sit back, and enjoy what the con had to offer. The quality of the panels was every bit as good as at World Fantasy — tremendous, knowledgeable people talking about fascinating things. The readings were outstanding. There was a con suite to put food in our stomachs on that long Saturday, an incredible art show (I bought a small art print by Kerry Maffeo, a steampunkian image that I fell in love with), and a dealers’ room full of tantalizing books, clothing, jewelry, accessories, calligraphy, and other artifacts. Many thanks to the organizers! A regional con can be extraordinary!
Here are the panels I attended — and I really crammed in as many as I could:
1. a PowerPoint presentation on vampires
2. I Read Your Story (about critique groups and beta readers)
3. Psychology of Horror
4. Keeping Constraints (about when to throw out the rule book)
5. Guest of Honor Talk: Seanan McGuire
6. What Editors Want
7. Cutting Edge
8. Can’t We Get Along? (about collaboration)
9. [Rather unquotable title, but it refers to villains. A fun one!]
10. History of Pulps
11. Readings by John Alfred Taylor and Denise Verrico
12. Where in the World Is__? (a presentation about hunting for missing persons)
13. Not Always Awesome (famous writers talking about early rejections they received)
14. Sub-Genres
15. Geek Culture
Here, in a raw form, are my notes:
Concerning feedback from editors: When they say there’s something wrong with a section, listen to them. If they tell you how to fix it, stick your fingers in your ears and hum. [That rings true to me! With my first novel, the editor rightly pointed out that the climax needed improvement. He had concrete suggestions for how to improve it, which I completely rejected. I did it my own way, and he said it gave him goosebumps, and he whole-heartedly endorsed my revisions to the publisher.] Editors are great at detecting where the writing needs help, but they aren’t writers!
For beta readers, you should use people who haven’t read a previous draft. You need the reaction of someone reading it for the first time.
G. Masterton’s The Manitou — one of the best-paced novels out there!
Shirley Jackson’s The Haunting has been called the best horror novel ever written. Look up the first paragraph on Google.
Don’t overdescribe. Allow the reader to participate in creating the horror that most affects him/her in the shape that’s effective for him/her. Sacrificing the child in Salem’s Lot . . . the politician kicking the dog to death in the prologue of The Dead Zone . . . these are marvelously understated, not shown in gory detail, but left to the imagination — and they’re passages that people are talking about years and years afterward. People think the dog scene goes on and on, but it’s two sentences long!
Read Dr. Rat.
Ultimately, terror is an individual, intimate experience, so suggestion is almost always the way to do it.
The “thousand-foot bug theory” quoted by Stephen King in Danse Macabre: If you build suspense, build it, build it, and then finally deliver the payoff, and it’s a ten-foot bug!!! — the reader will say, “Yeah, that’s scary, but I was expecting a 100-foot bug.” If you show it directly, what you show will fall short of what the reader was imagining, if you did the setup right. [Personal thought: It is my favorite Stephen King novel, but he didn’t take his own advice.]
Monster stories don’t focus on the monster. The monster isn’t the point. [Personal: I guess that’s true. Consider Jaws. The shark isn’t really the point. The point is, what do people do when a shark won’t go away? Will they confront their deepest fears?]
Woe, To Live On — depicts atrocities during the Civil War.
Blood Meridian (Cormac McCarthy) — the violence has always been with us. It’s not a new thing.
House of Leaves is a terrific book! [I’m partway through it.]
“If you’re doing what you love, you should always say yes.” — Christopher Walken [He is my favorite American actor.]
Jacques Cousteau swore unto his last breath that he had seen a megalodon. He specified exactly where he was when he saw it, and it was not a whale, not a whale shark. Cousteau would know.
Footprints of cryptids in history: There’s real-life documentation of “the last unicorn’s head” being presented to the king of France. Soon after, there was a devastating cholera outbreak. Humans had killed off the creatures that kept the water pure . . . [Don’t get me started on the subject of vampires hinted at in the Bible!]
3-D printing could utterly change our society within 10 years. Hagiograph? Your thoughts?
John Gardner, The Art of Fiction: All stories must be about moral choice. Will the character do the right thing, despite the consequences? [Jaws fits the pattern. LOTR fits the pattern. Whenever anyone makes a blanket statement about story, I always plug in those two to check it out. Yeah, it’s there in my three finished novels, in one way or another — whew!]
Pulps were named after the new, cheap paper made from wood pulp. (Linen & rags before that.) 1896 — Frank Muncey (sp?) publishes a magazine containing only fiction. (Magazines contained a little of everything before that.) 1913 — Differentiation into magazines containing stories all in one genre: railroad stories, cowboy stories, boxing stories, etc. 1923 — Weird Tales is the first all-fantasy magazine. 1926 — Amazing Stories is the first all-sf magazine. By the 1950s, the pulp era was over.
The Kirkus Reviews said of one of Tamora Pierce’s novels: “Slam-bang tedium.” [Boy, does that comfort me! The Kirkus reviewer hated my book The Star Shard.]
4-star reviews (out of 5) are often the most balanced. Those reviewers aren’t writing out of an emotional state. They’re usually giving a considered opinion, expressed pretty well.
Tamora Pierce’s typically stern, severe editor gave her this mantra when she was weeping over that Kirkus review: “All bad reviews are wrong; all good reviews are right.”
You can get Google to alert you of any references to your book anywhere on the Web.
“Fantasy football: It’s Dungeons & Dragons for people who used to beat up people who played Dungeons & Dragons.” — from the Internet
Tamora Pierce asked this to her on-line followers: “Romantic love between couples lasts about two years. After that, if they haven’t built something deeper underneath it, they’re in trouble. So, after the two years, what do you think Bella and Edward will talk about?” [Heh, heh, heh, heh, heh!]
[Anyone, feel free to jump on any of these points. There should be some good grist for discussion here! Very good convention!]