Superstars Writing Seminars 2013

One thing I’ve noticed lately is the proliferation of writing workshops. Everyone and their dog seems to be teaching one. Dozens upon dozens of workshops. So how do you determine which ones are worth their salt? My rule has always been: I don’t spend any money on continuing education unless I am sitting at the feet of the people I most wish to emulate with my own career. This has been true of craft, but it’s also true of business. And to my mind it’s the business aspect that is almost more important than craft. Most new writers will figure out the craft aspect sooner or later, if they keep working at it. But even a very skilled craftsperson can spend an entire career lost at sea if (s)he doesn’t take the time to learn the business. And professional writing is a business, make no mistake about it. Sometimes, six and seven figure business! With so much riding on your business decisions, I think it’s prudent to devote as much time as you can spare to your business plan. But where to start?

I first attended the Superstars Writing Seminar in January of 2011, at the urging of bestseller Kevin J. Anderson, whom I had first met at the 2010 Writers of the Future workshop. I had all of two professional short story publications under my belt, was terribly excited (and terribly nervous) about the road ahead, and felt like I needed to spend a few days immersed in an environment that would help me figure out how I wanted to tackle the rest of my writing career: my 12 month plan, then my 2 year plan, then my 5 year plan, et cetera.

Superstars Writing Seminar did not disappoint. Every single speaker was a top-drawer professional with a proven track record of success — the kind of success I wanted to achieve. I did not want to be a boutique writer. If I’d been satisfied with payments in contributors copies and having only a few dozen friends and family read my work, I’d have never bothered submitting my work to professional markets in the first place. But because I’d decided that any activity requiring as much of a time investment as writing required (to produce the stories and hone my craft) it ought to jolly damn well pay for itself. Or, in the case of some of my writing heroes like Larry Niven, more than pay for itself.

I am pleased to report that almost three years later, everything I learned at Superstars Writing Seminar has proven to be, not only accurate, but prophetic. There is wisdom and practical guidance at Superstars I think has been invaluable to me. So much so that I still go back and review my Superstars Writing Seminars audio files on a regular basis, either to parse out some new detail that wasn’t popping for me in the beginning, but which screams out at me now — or to remind myself of some things I already knew, and just needed to have re-hammered into my brain. Because it’s easy to get side tracked and lose focus.

If you’re a new writer, or you’re a working writer who feels like (s)he could be getting more “bang for the buck” in terms of progress, dollar-per-hour value, and so forth, I can’t think of a better place to go and learn than Superstars Writing Seminars. It really is a special event. Jam-packed with excellent information, advice, anecdotes, things to think about, ideas to take your career in a new direction, or even pick up a career that’s idling or has stalled out somewhere along the line. I feel that even those publishing regularly and doing well could benefit, as there is a synergy at Superstars (between attendees and speakers alike) that tends to generate a unique conversation that I don’t think you can easily get anywhere else.

There’s still plenty of time to sign up. This year’s workshop will be held in lovely Colorado Springs on May 14, 15, and 16. I’ll be there helping out. I’d like to see you there too. My initial investment (of time and money) in 2011 has already paid for itself several times over — and continues to pay for itself. Again, workshops that propose to help you with craft, are a dime a dozen. But workshops that can actually help you with business, taught by successful business-savvy writers who are full-time at what they do, and loving it?

Do yourself a favor and make the decision to commit. Not just because it’s a bang-up fun three days, but because it can literally change your life. I know it did mine, and I am glad I went. Again, the money I invested has more than come back to me — and then some!

Science Fiction’s political failure 3: Han Solo shoots first

My friend (and assistant editor at Orson Scott Card’s Intergalactic Medicine Show) Scott M. Roberts, posted this rather stunning piece of commentary to Facebook this morning. I’ve quoted him in blocks below, and added my own commentary. I’ve said some of these things in this space before. But I thought Scott’s wording was so spot-on and eloquent, I wanted to repeat them here — and add my own thoughts to his.

The more I hear the term “cultural sensitivity” lauded in the context of artistic expression, the more I’m reminded of the thousands of wailing mothers who annually strive to ban Huckleberry Finn from schools for using the n-word.

Speaking as a parent, I find myself constantly in a tug-o-war: how much of the world do I expose my daughter to, and how much of the world do I keep hidden? On the one hand I have a protective instinct (rooted culturally in my Utah LDS background) that is quite strong, and there have been many times when I’ve seen my daughter watch something on television or listen to something on the radio, and I’ve cringed. Do I really want my daughter to be seeing or listening to some of this stuff? She’s only 9 years old.

Just the same, what good does it do to shield her from reality? The world is not sanitized. She’s going to get an eyeful (or an earful) of life sooner or later. Hence my wife’s frequent assertion that it’s better to have our daughter exposed to some of these things while she is still in our orbit of influence, and we can provide context and, hopefully, guidance. An assertion with which I am almost always forced to agree. Not because I like it, but because it seems to be the truth.

Which isn’t to say that there’s no need for racial/cultural sensitivity. But there is a definite need within the speculative fiction community to take their sensitivity with a grain of salt. Or pepper. Or cumin, ginger, or really, any spice. (I prefer cayenne.) The current vocality sometimes seems to strive for worlds populated with impossibly fair-minded secular protagonists — inoffensive, liberated, sensitive protagonists whose obedience to modern cultural mores is strident and undeviating. Inevitably, the antagonists of worlds populated with such men, women, and children are stereotyped fat cat institutions — repressive governments, corrupt corporations, blind-minded religions.

I suspect part of the issue (as outlined above) is that many writers and editors believe that the purpose of “scientifiction” (to use Uncle Hugo’s old word) is to portray people — and the world around us — not as how we truly are, but as how we ought to be. According to a given editor’s or writer’s own assumptions, preferences, tastes, ideals, et cetera. Thus if the real world is too racist, we will create a future world that is un-racist. Or at least, where our un-racist protagonist(s) struggle against racist evil-doers. If the real world is sexist, we will again create a future world populated with un-sexist “good” people and sexist “bad” people. And so on, and so forth. All the deadly sins (ist and ism) will be clearly signposted and our heroes will know them well, and demonstrate proper fidelity to the un-sinful, un-ist, un-ism virtues of tolerance and sensitivity.

Let me hasten to add that I think modern cultural mores are absolutely wonderful. Liberty, equality, brotherhood, huzzah! I’m even wearing a red cap as I write this.

But I do not have that red cap pulled down over my eyes.

Cultural sensitivity, as praised by the modern vocality in the speculative fiction genre, is no substitute for truth. I have more respect for stories that stay true to the world they inhabit than I do for stories that stay true to the ideals of the author. In other words:

Give me Conan. Keep your John Galt.

Like Scott, I’ll be the first one to heartily support a society in which egalitarianism is championed. I am an equal opportunity guy who thinks a world where everyone can rise to the level of his or her ambitions, work ethic, and aptitudes is a worthy thing to strive for. Is this not the keystone principle of the United States? To free the human being from his or her “designated slot” in the old hierarchy? So that men and women may create and strive and work and invent as they please, building for themselves whatever kinds of lives they see fit?

But I agree with Scott: imposing blinders — for the false hope that somehow ignoring reality will make reality better match our desires — isn’t what science fiction is for. Or at least, this isn’t what science fiction is for when science fiction is firing on all cylinders. As my friend and mentor Mike Resnick has often told me, science fiction is not even necessarily about science, but about the human condition. And the human condition is a flawed thing, replete with bumps and bruises. Many of which may not be to our taste. Many of which may even make us recoil in shock or horror. To accurately portray this fallen state while also giving the reader bona fide heroes and heroines who accomplish laudable things despite themselves, is one of the great tricks of any good story. After all, Han Solo did shoot first. And he really was a scoundrel. A scoundrel who went on to help defeat the oppressive Empire because while the New Republicans had no love for smugglers, they did have common cause with Solo against a suffocating, conformist, crushing orthodoxy. Thus Solo is in many ways one of the more compelling and enjoyable heroes in the Star Wars saga precisely because he isn’t clean, pure, or righteous. He’s just a guy trying to make his way in the world. And he also happens to have a seedling of honor in his heart, which sprouts into a sapling by the time the third (sixth) movie has elapsed.

This isn’t a paen to gritty or shocking stories. This is a plea for the speculative fiction community to stop obsessing over race, sexuality, gender, and political affiliation and which author (and which characters) are on the right side of the dividing line between moral bankruptcy and sainthood. The obsession with correct political belief and expression in art is stultifying the genre as it is necessarily exclusive. We are losing our voice in artificial, forced homogeny posing as tolerance. Propaganda-disguised-as-story drives readers away as agenda takes the place of wonder, excitement, character. and conflict.

I cannot laud the above paragraph enough. It is something I’ve beaten my pots and pans about since I began publishing a few years ago. There is a reason science fiction is on the wane, with pop readers. Science fiction is supposedly the “dangerous” genre, but I’ve found this to be a largely toothless claim, based on past glory. Science fiction in the 21st century doesn’t want to be dangerous. Science fiction wants to be safe – at any speed. Heroes and heroines must not be scoundrels. As I noted above, all the sins are clearly signposted. Worse yet, let any author or editor fall foul of the signposted sins – ist and ism — and it’s a cause for significant outrage. How dare someone let a scoundrel into our beloved genre!? Someone fetch the smelling salts! Vapors! Gnashing of teeth!

I maintain that cultural sensitivity should be replaced by cultural awareness. Awareness implies research, consideration, thought, and judiciousness. Sensitivity looks at the n-word and immediately wails, regardless of context; awareness takes into account the modern reader’s reaction to the word, then balances it against the reality depicted in the story, and determines whether the usage is valid or not. Sensitivity denies equal access to language. It segregates and censors based on the background of the writer rather than the content of the story. No society can embrace cultural sensitivity and retain full capacity for freedom of speech.

Yes, in triplicate. The quest for tolerance has lead us down a very odd road where the proper enacting of tolerance is to be, well, intolerant. To not tolerate the “intolerable” according to trendy or arbitrary or otherwise assigned values of correctness: correct thought, correct speech, correct action. Not only must the stories themselves hew to this rigid correctness calculus, authors themselves must hew to this rigid correctness calculus. There is no room in 21st century science fiction for real people. Because sooner or later the ist and the ism are exposed — both real and, as often as not, imagined — and the evil-doer is punished and/or cast out.

Thus the genre slowly homogenizes and inoculates itself against reality. And the stories (and the personalities) become more polarized, polemicized, and monotonous. A robust genre which actively fostered a more robust ideological spectrum might be more able to pick up on and defend against this disease. But the denizens of the “ghetto” can’t seem to get enough of it. They want more conformity and less diversity in politics, opinions, and ideas. Because true diversity means inviting in and even protecting the scoundrels — Han Solo has no place in a properly, piously “sensitive” science fiction. Han Solo shoots first. And he is a greedy capitalist to boot.

Cultural awareness denies speech to no one. It justifies (or condemns) artwork through context.

And context is king — something I’ve found myself trying to inexpertly explain a lot these days. If we judge generations past according to our ever-evolving modern standards, those generations will forever be found wanting. Yet it cannot be denied that we in our sanctified time of sensitive propriety owe most of what we have to those rough-necked ruffians of yesteryear who somehow muddled through their ists and their isms to bring us to where we are today. And to provide us with some of our most timeless, everlasting stories. Stories that speak to the eternal truths of the universe, and show us honor and dignity and humility and adventure and sacrifice, despite the flawed nature of the world(s) and character(s) portrayed.

Sensitivity serves ideology; awareness serves the story. Sensitivity defaults; awareness decides.

Quite so. I would add that “sensitivity” as currently practiced in the genre is an entirely reactionary thing, predicated on avoiding and assuaging offense — be it real or imagined. A genre that makes its choices according to who it wishes to avoid offending can no longer claim to be a dangerous genre. Dangerous genres shoot first, and ask questions later. Science fiction too often doesn’t even want to ask the question, nor pull the trigger. Science fiction wants to punish the trigger-puller and throw the laser blaster into the molten pit — because guns are bad.

February Update: LTUE 2013

Life just keeps getting busier. January was a bang-up month for me, with two short fiction sales and several writing checks coming over the transom. As always — when the money spigot turns itself on — I am reminded of the fact that a good many academic creative writers insist (sometimes hotly) that there is no money to be made in fiction. You’re lucky if you get a spot in a journal or chapbook that pays contributors copies. Boy, am I glad I listened to my mentors, all full-time professionals! They insisted that if I worked hard and could learn as I went, some day I’d be making cash. Good cash. I am pleased to report that my mentors have been right. Never let anyone tell you there is no money in this biz.

So, in addition to my novella “The Chaplain’s Assistant” appearing in a future issue of Analog magazine, I can now report that my story “The Bricks of Eta Cassiopeiea” is going to be appearing in an anthology titled BEYOND THE SUN, edited by Bryan Thomas Schmidt. My novelette “The Flamingo Girl” will also be published in the forthcoming electronic magazine GALAXY’S EDGE, from Arc Manor; edited by my friend and mentor Mike Resnick.

And if you’re local to the Mountain West you seriously need to consider coming out for Life, The Universe, and Everything, the premiere annual symposium dedicated to artists and writers working professionally (or seeking to work professionally) in the speculative and fantastic arts. I’m a Special Guest this year, along with friends Eric James Stone, James A. Owen, David Farland (Wolverton), L.E. Modesitt, Jr., Tracy Hickman, and Larry Correia.

The LTUE web site can be found at www.ltue.net.

My schedule is below (subject to change, which I will reflect here.)

Thursday, February 14
► What Do You Write? @ 12:00 PM
How to Research Genre; and Sub-Genre.
Panelists: Dan Willis, Brad R. Torgersen, Eric Swedin, Scott R. Parkin (M), Dave Wolverton, Megan Whalen Turner.
► Adapting Classic Stories to Modern Settings @ 2:00 PM
Panelists: Andrea Pearson, Brad R. Torgersen, Michelle Witte, Kathleen Dalton-Woodbury, Mette Ivie Harrison.
► Space Eldritch @ 6:00 PM
Contributing artists and writers discuss the anthology.
Panelists: David West, Michael R. Collings, Carter Reid, Howard Tayler (M), Brad R. Torgersen, David Butler, Robert J Defendi, Jr., Nathan Shumate.

Friday, February 15
► Writers of the Future @ 3:00 PM
Contest Coordinating Judge David Farland (Wolverton) discusses this premier entry point into the world of science fiction and fantasy publication. Panel also includes notable recent winners.
Panelists: David Farland (Wolverton) (M), Eric James Stone, Robert J. Defendi, Brad R. Torgersen, Kathleen Dalton Woodbury.

Saturday, February 16
► What You Need to Know to Write Science Fiction or Fantasy @ 10:00 AM
Panelists: Scott R. Parkin, Brad R. Torgersen, Eric James Stone, Deren Hansen, Jaleta Clegg (M), Dave Wolverton.

So if you’re going to be at LTUE and you know me from the intarwebz, don’t be shy about coming up and introducing yourself. I am always grateful to meet people face-to-face whom I have only known previously via social media.

The Utah professional writer/artist community is arguably one of the most robust in the country. You owe it to yourself to come to LTUE and rub elbows with bestsellers and up-and-comers alike. It’s just $25 for three days of jam-packed panels where you can get invaluable insight, ideas, information, and (perhaps most importantly) inspiration.

I went to my first LTUE in February of 2009, after many years of futility and no professional fiction sales. I won Writers of the Future in November 2009, and have been cranking along nicely ever since.

Coincidence?

Ruminations on work

Talking to my Dad last night, I realized that in the last 19 years, the longest I’ve ever been without work is 3 business days. No joke.

I’ve both quit and been fired from jobs. In the case of the former I always made sure to have a job acceptance in hand before I gave my two weeks, and in the case of the latter I always went out and found something that paid — always within three business days.

Didn’t matter what the job was, or where I was living. Small town, or big city. I canvassed the hell out of the place. Bussing tables. Working a register. Flipping burgers on a grill. Pushing a broom & mop. If it was honest work and they were hiring immediately, I went for it. Even if it seemed like a temporary thing until I could move on to something else. Because some kind of paycheck was always better than no paycheck at all.

That’s just the rule in my house. The man’s #1 priority is bringing in the bread. Every day the man isn’t bringing in the bread, his “job” is to look for a job. For at least 8 hours, or more. Anything less was unacceptable. No excuses.

I’ve never had to look long. I wasn’t too proud to take what was available. In whatever capacity was required. Nothing was “beneath” me — except being unemployed.

And, honestly, I never got fired again after that first year. I learned quickly how to spot the trouble signs, and how to line myself up for a new job when I saw the end of the old job coming a long ways off. I did get caught in a mass layoff once. That was a surprise. It happened on a Monday. But I was back to work with the same (overall) company, only at a different campus and in a different capacity, by Wednesday — then wound up right back at my original desk within a year, after the two separate portions of the company merged assets in 1999.

It’s now 2012 and I have three jobs; one full-time civilian, one part-time military, and one part-time freelance. And I am doing very well in all of them. I typically put in 55 to 65 hours a week, or more. Sometimes, it’s literally 80 to 90 hours a week, depending on what I have going on.

There’s precious little idle time in my schedule. I don’t play video games much these days, nor do I watch a lot of television, nor movies. I don’t even read a lot, recreationally — something I am forever trying to remedy because rec reading is vital for writing. I do build in time for church. And for family. And I am satisfied that nobody can accuse me of not paying my dues.

I am also satisfied that nothing I’ve done is unique to me. I don’t think it’s been magic. I don’t think it’s been luck. I don’t think I am a special case. I just think I have a certain mindset — as a result of my upbringing and the example my father set for me, and because I have a spouse who accepts nothing less of her husband.

I’ve noticed I get one of two reactions to this story: people who “get it” and relate to me their own stories of work and striving, and people who get defensive, make excuses for themselves, and/or become accusatory.

When America is run by and for the benefit of individuals in the latter category, America is officially over.

If this statement offends you, I don’t give a shit.

Ruminations on firearms, rights, training, and culture

There’s been another highly-publicized and highly-political bit of firearms violence in the news this week. As always when this happens, I find myself approaching the issue from a couple of different angles at once.

I partially agree with my friend Larry Correia, in that I think a lot of anti-gun legislation is a feelings-based exercise. Not a rational thing, per se. We seek to restrict firearms because of how we feel about them and because of how it makes us feel to know they’re out there and because we feel better if we think someone is “doing something about the problem,” even if what’s being done is neither necessary nor effective from a statistical standpoint.

But, is the alternative to do nothing? Take no action? Simply accept that gun violence is part of the cost of “doing business” as Americans?

I grew up around guns, so guns never bothered me. But a lot of people didn’t and don’t grow up around guns. And there a lot of people who believe guns are simply too dangerous for civilian ownership and use. The natural instinct of the gun-fearer is to restrict or ban — where and when and how we as private citizens are allowed to purchase, carry, and use guns. Because guns are “scary” and people simply won’t tolerate scary.

I am not a “banner,” and I never have been.

I look at guns the way I look at a circular saw. Useful. But also potentially very harmful or even lethal if handled stupidly. Otherwise, no more or less dangerous than any other power tool.

And of course nobody makes you take or pass state exams to use a circular saw — though I betcha maiming from circular saws is 100 to 1 more frequent than maiming or killing from gun accidents.

I think the big difference is that guns are symbolic. They are written into the blood of the American people at a cultural level.

On the one end of the spectrum, firearms represent liberty: the power to defy with force any form of oppression. On the other end they represent random terror: the unconscionable thought that some stranger could “cap” us at any moment (ergo, highly-publicized spree shootings) and there’s nothing we can do about it.

Spree killers don’t use circular saws. They don’t even use chainsaws, despite what the movies might have us think. They use firearms. In nearly every case. Any spree killer you’ve heard or read about in the last 40 years has used pistols, shotguns, rifles, etc.

And because we can’t read minds and identify the spree killers before they kill, we (collectively) tell ourselves that spree killers won’t be as dangerous to us if we take away their tools of choice.

Now, I personally don’t think that makes any logical sense, historically. Banning firearms won’t prevent their import, manufacture, or sale any more than banning booze in the 1920s prevented its import, manufacture, or sale. We’ll merely criminalize law-abiders while doing little or nothing to hamper the law-breakers. And we’ll turn gun manufacture and black market sales into a booming criminal enterprise. Just like the current ban has done to marijuana.

But the emotional argument is that since guns are scary and used in spree killings, if we get rid of guns we’ll be safe from scary spree killings.

A similar emotional argument can be made against cars. I was in a serious car wreck last week. I didn’t get hurt, thankfully. But if we banned cars, thousands upon thousands of Americans’ lives would be saved every year.

But cars aren’t scary. Cars are awesome. Everybody has them. They make life possible for most of us who don’t live in urban metro areas. Hence we tolerate random car-on-car mayhem more easily, because we look at the car and we see immediate practical benefit. Not so for firearms. At least not so for those with little or no experience with firearms.

Like I said earlier, I grew up around guns, so guns don’t frighten me. Nor do gun owners. Out here in Utah everyone has guns, and most everyone can trace his or her knowledge about firearms usage and safety to family: uncles, brothers, fathers, cousins, even moms and sisters. Virtually everyone learns (or has learned) from an early age how to shoot, and how to handle a gun.

I remember very clearly when I was in Webelos (scouting) they took us to a thing in the Uinta mountains called Camp Tracy, where (in the mid-1980s) there was a former USMC drill instructor running the .22 rifle range. He put the fear of God into us boys about proper firearms handling and discipline. I remember very clearly how the DI nearly made some kid piss himself when that dummy cracked off a round by monkeying with his rifle in the middle of the DI’s intro PMI routine.

That particular individual was stupid with a gun once, and it didn’t hurt anyone — thankfully. I would bet money on his never, ever having been that stupid with a gun again. Because the DI looked and sounded like he was gonna eat the kid for lunch. It was R. Lee Ermey time.

If everyone who wanted to own or operate a pistol or rifle got that kind of basic-level-very-young-fear-of-God training and discipline, I’d not bat an eyelash at the no-training-required-to-buy-guns mentality. But because not everyone gets this kind of from-the-roots training and instruction, I can see where some of the worry (by people who fear gun accidents and random gun violence) comes from.

Not agree with it at all levels — I just think I get where it comes from.

And just because I was raised in a culture that understands, respects, and owns guns, not everybody has that same luxury.

Would it be the end of freedom and the American civilization for us to require that people who have never handled a rifle nor pistol before, be required to get the kind of rudimentary training and indoctrination that many of us who did grow up with guns, take for granted?

I think that’s what I am putting on the table.

But . . . I also see how the language ” — shall not be infringed — ” can be taken quite literally, and how a government capable of denying its citizens their right of firearms ownership (for any reason) is also potentially the same government capable of denying its citizens all their other rights too.

In many places like New York City we’ve already seen the (more or less) suspension of the 2nd Amendment. Which is one reason I am glad I live in a state where such restrictions have not come to pass. I don’t see that New York’s policies have done much more than punish the law-abiding, while doing little or nothing to curb crime or gun violence. Just like in the UK, where similar restrictions have seen a corresponding rise in home burglaries and crime.

Of course, New York City’s culture is about as different from Utah’s culture as one can get in the United States. Especially if we’re discussing urbanized up-scale New Yorkers vs. rural, farming-community Utahn’s. Might as well be Venusians vs. Plutonians.

So maybe my real beef is: how do you infuse a culture which is ignorant of or averse to gun knowledge, with gun knowledge? Or do you even try? Is it worth it to allow a certain percentage of gun accidents and gun crimes, because the alternative — restrictions, licenses, permits, bans — is too antithetical to the United States Constitution, and our founding liberties as a free people?

If I must pick, I side with liberty. Firearms ownership.

But then I look at my driver’s license, and I think about how few people complain that we have to go through that particular rigamaroll. And if we did require similar licensure and training to obtain and operate a firearm, after an initial period of moaning and groaning from staunch 2nd Amendment activists, wouldn’t things just settle out — and life would go on more or less without significant problems for current or would-be gun owners? I can think of all kinds of things the state makes me prove I am qualified to do. Like a food handlers permit. I had to go get one of those before I could work at McDonalds when I was 16. Why would shooting guns be any different?

Yes, I am a science fiction writer. You might say I get paid to think about this stuff. I am not trying to piss people off. I am trying to consider the angles and ramifications. Looking at it both ways. Seeing it from both the POV of the firearms activists and the firearms restrictionists.

Again, if forced to pick a side, I have to pick unrestricted. I believe the U.S. Founders were far smarter and more wise than many modern Americans realize. I think they were canny and inspired and if they say firearms ownership and operation shall not be infringed, I want to trust their judgment.

All the same, I am not sure the Founders ever imagined spree shootings in movie theaters or high schools.

Plus, I can’t own “military grade” weaponry despite the fact that I am in the military and have had experience and training operating weapons like the M249, the M240B, and even the M2 heavy machine gun. None of these are available in the local sporting goods store. I can get a 21st-century version of the M1 or M14, but not a civilianized SAW. Why? Is the SAW not covered under the Founders’ desire that firearms ownership not be infringed? We seem to be rubbing up against some arbitrariness, in terms of what we’re willing to allow, and what we’re not willing to allow — and why.

I think where I have the most trouble is that I am not all on one side or all on the other. But many people are. For many people you’re either a 100% 2nd Amendment absolutist, or you’re a government stooge who wants to throw the Constitution into the ash heap and bring forth tyranny onto the American public. For many other people you’re either a gun ban absolutist, or you’re cruel and heartless and you enjoy seeing dead bodies on the news from the latest school shooting or spree killing. Shame on you. Shame, shame shame!

I’m kind of in the middle — albeit over towards the firearms defenders. I think law-abiding citizens should have the right to own and operate firearms, as the Founders intended. Up to and including something like the M240B. Provided they are trained and licensed to operate these things. I cannot, with my regular drivers license, climb into a tractor trailer and drive it. Assuming I could even get the thing out on the road, I’d be a menace to myself and everyone else around me. So too (I believe) are untrained firearms owners with no experience and, perhaps especially, no cultural underpinning for that ownership. I think it’s reasonable and perfectly within the Constitutional framework to have people properly trained on equipment which can be very hazardous in untrained hands. And I don’t think this spells the end of the Republic, nor presages the end of firearms rights.
Though I understand fully the fears of those who believe that allowing government restrictions, even a little bit, merely allows the government to take a mile where an inch was initially given.

It’s a tough, nutty subject. And every time we have a highly publicized event involving firearms and innocent deaths, we (as a nation and as a culture) launch into a brief period of recrimination and reevaluation — with predictable calls for restrictions and bans, countered by predictable calls for no restrictions or bans, otherwise it’s tyranny.

If we must take steps, let them be both objective and effective. But can we do that in America? Or are gun rights simply too highly charged for anyone to look at them without having a bias one way or another?

Double release! “The Exchange Officers” and “The Shadows of Titan” now out!

It’s a double release for me this week. Not only is my novelette “The Exchange Officers” appearing in the January-February issue of Analog Science Fiction & Fact magazine (with a lovely illustration by Vincent Di Fate!) but I also have a collaborative novelette called “The Shadows of Titan” now out in the anthology Space Eldritch, edited by Nathan Shumate with an amazing cover by Carter Reid:

“The Shadows of Titan” is a distinct departure for me, mainly because I almost never touch horror. I am not a horror reader and I am very seldom writing anything that is horrorish in content or flavor.

But Carter knows horror. He got the front page of my local paper this past weekend for his work on his humorous-horror comic The Zombie Nation which I’ve mentioned here before. So when I was told that Space Eldritch would be both space opera and horror blended together . . . well, let’s just say Carter provided the peanut butter, I provided the chocolate, and together I think we came up with a heck of a story for a heck of an anthology.

We join some top men you will probably know — story titles link to excerpts:

Foreword by Larry Correia.
“Arise Thou Niarlat From Thy Rest” by D.J. Butler.
“Space Opera” by Michael R. Collings.
“The Menace Under Mars” by Nathan Shumate.
“Gods in Darkness” by David J. West.
“The Fury in the Void” by Robert J. Defendi.
“Flight of the Runewright” by Howard Tayler.

Currently Space Eldritch is available from Amazon.com, as well as Barnes & Noble, and Smashwords.

It’s a heck of a thrill to be sharing a table-of-contents with all of these writers, some of whom I have been friends with going back three years — to when I first broke into the biz with Writers of the Future. All of them did terrific work on their stories, so it’s an honor to share page space with them. It was also a unique experience working with Carter, who provided both the cover and the core of our joint story — a tale of interplanetary exploration gone oh-so-horrifically-wrong. Do you like hard science fiction? Do you like alien demonic possession? Would you like to see what happens when Carter The Zombie Guy combines forces with Brad The Analog Guy?

Then buy the book! Dammit.

Meanwhile, “The Exchange Officers” marks my sixth appearance in the pages of Analog magazine. It’s a story set just a little bit into our possible future, when the nature of warfighting — and the places where war might take place — are remarkably different from Patton’s time. Drone strikes? Virtual reality? How will our military handle an environment completely given over to technology? What kinds of soldiers will we need to operate in that scenario?

I relied heavily on my military experience for "The Exchange Officers" and am pleased to see it between the pages of Analog's first double-issue in 2013. Subscription copies are already arriving in mailboxes, while store copies should be hitting the stands very soon.

On Being Unprofessional

I’ve been in the “pro” science fiction biz for almost 3 years. In that time I’ve become used to the idea that not every writer or editor is a professional — in the sense that what “professional” means in the world of the arts can often be very, very different from what it means in the every-day world working world that most people are familiar with.

In my military career there are very strict standards and expectations: of behavior, of decorum, of how we each speak to and treat each other as uniformed servicemembers. There are lines you don’t cross. Or if you do cross them, there are defined consequences. This is also true in the professional healthcare and business sector. Both major hospital networks I’ve worked for have had very specific rules regarding what could be said, what kinds of behavior and even attitude were to be tolerated — or not tolerated — in the workplace. And so forth. Again, with defined consequences for crossing the line.

There’s nothing like that in publishing, from what I can gather. And especially in science fiction — which is its own little (sometimes strange) niche of the publishing world — behavior I’d recognize as “professional” according to my civilian and Army standards, sometimes seems tough to come by. People are . . . eccentric, to use the kindest word I can think of right now.

Which is why I very much appreciate it when I see true professionalism displayed (waves enthusiastically to my Analog editors and Dell Magazines, as well as Edmund at IGMS, and Co.) and why I also note it when it’s specifically lacking.

Notice I name no names on the last count.

We have (unfortunately) a notable collection of writers and editors in science fiction who have taken it upon themselves to act as exemplars of unprofessionalism. And why not? This is an “art” field after all. Some people revel in the fact that they can be 100% unprofessional in practice, manner, speech, attitude, and interpersonal interaction, because this is the badge of the artiste. Hey, if people still pay them and they still have sycophants, who’s going to tell them they’re doing it wrong?

I say bull. Unprofessional is as unprofessional does. People who wallow in their bad habits, bad manners, bad tempers, and bad attitude will sooner or later develop bad reputations. Perceived status within the field is no protection, either. One day cock-of-the-walk, the next, a feather duster. Be an unprofessional often enough, to enough true professionals, and people won’t want to work with you anymore.

Now when I run into someone who is an unprofessional I say to myself, “Ah, your days are numbered, sir.” Because even in an artistic field, that kind of crap has a way of cumulatively catching up with you. Whether you’re a writer or an editor or an artist. You may be brilliant, but if you’re a cantankerous pain-in-the-ass, or a snob, or you like to pick fights, or you’re simply prone to displaying uncivilized behavior, this kind of stuff builds negative karma. Little by little, publishers and writers alike will steer clear of you. I can think of half a dozen notable examples right now. Again, I name no names. They know who they are. And most of my friends in the biz know who they are too.