A Submission, A Sale, and A September Well Spent

Dear, it has been a while hasn’t it? Hmm, where to start. Oh yeah, leaving the country for — record scratch — Spokane?!

(I know they are nowhere near each other, but when I see the word Spokane it reminds me of that old Bugs Bunny cartoon where Bugs has to bring the lost penguin to Hoboken. Anywho…)

Yes, mighty Sasquan. Forest fire smoke that blanketed the town. The unease that crept in every so often if the Hugos were mentioned. A decentralized setup for the convention and the hotel rooms kept with the (unintended) disjointed vibe. Panel shenanigans (as always). Did my first reading at a Convention thanks to the gracious Steven Gould who opened up his slot to Viable Paradise alumni. I shared it with Sarah Goslee and Camille Griep, and read an excerpt of the novel I’m shopping around.  Hosted not one but two and a half room parties — the first a VP reunion, the second a private Hugo watching party, and the half our mini Dead Dog on the Sunday night. Bonus points for discovering that I can  drink gin or bourbon neat or on the rocks. Plus macarons, Dune sunrises, smoked salmon, cloudberry liqueur, screaming ourselves hoarse, terrible tea and always, always books.

By far the best experience of World Con was my roomie, Sarah. I met Sarah sideways, through the larger Viable Paradise network online after I came back from the Island. We’ve laughed and joked and commiserated and written together in Google Hangouts entirely online for almost four years and this was the first time I could hang out with her in person. World Con was as good as it was because of Sarah. Can’t wait to room with her again.

It was great to get out of Vancouver, too, and I had a lot of fun even though I came back exhausted. I still don’t know if it’s my Con. I understand what people mean when they say you go to World Con not for the convention but for who else goes to the convention. When I went to the World Fantasy Convention in 2012, I did mope a little about the lack of science fiction but really dug the panels. Discussions went deeper and I left with a lot to chew on, including story fodder. Next year, I want to go to something new, like ReaderCon, WisCon or Fourth Street Fantasy. Something smaller, but specialized. Plans are in the works.

When I got back home, it was back to the last round of novel revisions, this time line and copy edits. I read every word of that novel out loud over the course of the next three weeks (my poor neighbors) and fixed them as best I could. I sent out the full manuscript to the second agent that wanted it. Fingers crossed, little buddy! Hope they like you! (Of course, eggs, basket: I need to start querying other agents, too.)

What also came in September? My contract for a short story sale. I’d received the acceptance back in July but sat on it until it was official. And now it’s official! Hot House Flower (one of my Viable Paradise stories) will appear in Pulp Literature Issue #9 this January in both print and digital. Just finished the edits on that story, too. SUCH EXCITE.

And speaking of Viable Paradise, it’s that time of year again. Sarah’s off to be one of the House Elves, and my friend and writing buddy Andy was accepted into the VPXIX class (after literally years of pestering him to apply). As they always do every October since going, my thoughts return to the island. I’ve gone back to my notes and the audio recordings, even my journal, several times since then. But as I pick up the WIP I was totally cheating on my novel with this past February, I’m going to listen to the lectures fresh, take new notes, and then compare them to what I wrote and thought back in 2011.

I’m a firm believer that you really only understand the advice you need most when you hear it, and the rest just has to wait until you’re ready. I want to see how far I’ve come since then, if I have. I’d like to think so but I also believe you don’t know what you know, either, until you’re tested. Has everything happened at the speed I wanted, or hoped? No, but I haven’t been standing still, either.

So my homework will be part nostalgia, part honing the blade, part looking for the clever bits I missed I wasn’t ready for them at the time. I will envy every class that liminal experience to come, and I want to live up to that promise.

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