Showing posts with label Biographical. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Biographical. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 28, 2024

50 years of Savage Sword of Conan, and beyond

Ahh, no. 29, I love you. Love them all...
Savage Sword of Conan debuted August 1974. 

I was just one year old. Probably a little young to be reading this great old magazine. But looking back, I love the thought that when I was born, it existed. Imagine a not yet two-year -old me toddling over and placing a chubby hand on Conan nailed to the tree of death, a grinning skull leering in the distance. Boris Vallejo’s stunning artwork gracing the cover of issue #5, which I proudly own.

SSOC changed me. It was my gateway to Robert E. Howard, and to sword-and-sorcery. It introduced me to a darker, more brutal, savage, and sexy brand of fantasy than I was used to from the Chronicles of Prydain and The Hobbit, books I was first encountering around that same time. 

I might not be here blogging were it not for SSOC.

I’ve recounted this story a few times now. Here on the blog, in the foreword to Flame and Crimson, possibly on a podcast or two. But I still remember that initial shock upon finding a horde of back issues of the magazine circa 1984-85. Some of the fondest memories I have in my life are buying a couple at a time as I could afford them, bringing them home, leaning back in my second-hand split leather desk chair, putting my feet up on my desk. Sipping a cold Pepsi and eating a candy bar bought at a local drugstore. And getting utterly lost in the Hyborian Age. I was gripped in the potent spell of a necromancer.

As I write this essay an overflowing comic box sits to my left. The same ones I bought back in the mid-80s, with a couple issues added here and there over the years. One day I will probably finish my collection.

SSOC had it all. Great art of course, which goes without saying. Considerable diversity in its artists, but with some powerhouses to anchor the title, big names with which I’d become familiar—Adams, Vallejo, Norem, Buscema, Alcala, Chan. And others.

After the art, the terrific map of the Hyborian Age topped by an excerpt from the Nemedian Chronicles. Opening SSOC and seeing this splash page made it feel as though I was being guided into a lost world--perhaps due to the way it presented a lost text disclosing an even deeper layer of history (a layering technique J.R.R. Tolkien used in his works, to great effect). It felt real, lived in, once upon a time, impossibly dim and remote, but possibly our own, historical earth before the time when the oceans drank Atlantis.

Beyond that, SSOC featured stories about other Howardian characters, like Red Sonja or Solomon Kane (whom I did not know at all at the time). Beautiful art portfolios. Letters columns. Prose articles. I even loved the ads, pointing to treasures that I hoped I might one day acquire.

I just pulled out no. 29 at random (see above). And it’s just as awesome as I remember. 

Issue 29 TOC.

That map made me a child of sorcery...


Conan's Ladies... easy on the eye.


Holy balls that's some good artwork... Almuric at left (Tim Conrad)

I desperately wanted to participate.

Would they still honor these prices?

RIP John Verpoorten. I'd read every article, regardless of subject matter.

Swords and Scrolls... first letter by one Andrew J. Offutt. With praise for issue #24 and "Tower of the Elephant."

Listening to an interview with Jim Zub on The Rogues in the House podcast got me interested in subscribing to the new incarnation of the magazine, published by Titan. Which is a bit surprising, I suppose, as I’m no longer a comic book guy (or even an illustrated magazine guy). I’m not opposed to them by any means, but they’re just not in my wheelhouse anymore. 

But with the new SSOC the urge is deeper. It’s tapping into my nostalgia, sure, and that’s a potent vein. But it’s also akin to paying my respects. And seeing what new hands and minds might bring to this beloved old character.

OK, I did it. I ordered issue no. 1. It’s been so long since I bought a comic that I’ve never bought one online. I’m nearly certain the last SSOC I bought was issue 184 (April 1991), featuring “An All New Epic Adventure! Disciple!” I hadn’t yet graduated high school. There was no internet.

I thought I might be prompted to subscribe, but instead I purchased the issue as a standalone.

Here we go again.

Here’s to 50 years of this wonderful old magazine, and for what the future may yet bring.

Monday, February 12, 2024

A few updates and a space Viking

My friend Tom Barber bought a machine that transfers 35mm slides onto his computer, allowing him to convert his artwork to a digital format.
“Kind of like going up in the attic on a rainy day and rummaging through old memories,” he described the project. Tom sent me a really cool pic of a Viking in space done when he was first trying to break into the field in the 70s. This is the first time I’ve seen this one. Here’s what he had to say about it:

I don’t remember where I got the idea for the space-Viking, but after I ran away to Arizona, my agent (without telling me) got it on a cover. And for some reason, they decided to reproduce it in black & white. Lost its punch. Ah well…

I will not be going to Karl Edward Wagner Day. It’s for the best of reasons, attending a Parents Weekend at my daughter’s college which happens to fall on the same day. But it doesn’t change the fact that I’m really bummed about this. I mean, it’s KEW fans hanging out in a beer garden. I had hoped to participate on a Kane panel. 

The heavy metal memoir continues apace. I believe I have come to a natural stopping point of the first draft, and feel good about what I’ve written. We’ll see what happens when I read it in the clear light of day. Next will come a heavy revision, making sure it tells a coherent story.

Finally here’s one more Tom sent me, I have seen this one but here’s a full, uncropped version.



Tuesday, January 30, 2024

Authenticity, Inward and Outward

The third in a series about my personal values. Part 1 here, Part 2 here.

I lived a big chunk of my life like a chameleon, changing who I was depending on the person I happened to be with. This behavior began when I was young, unformed, and figuring things out, so I give myself a little grace. I was a wanna be nerd… a wanna be jock… a wanna be metalhead, never going all in on anything, including myself.

But I allowed it to persist, for too long. 

Why? Out of fear. That I would not be accepted, or that I would be judged, and rejected. Mocked, and humiliated.

The inauthentic life is a terrible one to live. I can tell you from experience.

That’s why my third value is authenticity, inward and outward.

Humans crave authenticity. Today more than ever, we need it. Not posturing on social media with false humility or false bravado. But people being who they are in the real world, living their inner lives outwards. 

People are a miracle, each unique and irreplaceable. So why not embrace who you are?

Yet we often don’t. Because of social pressures, the feeling we should conform with the herd. Authenticity can come with a cost. It’s not always easy, and not always acceptable. 

Many of these pressures are self-imposed. The result of self-shaming, or lack of confidence. Occasionally, they’re external.

I believe we have made progress as a society here. For example, “nerds” aren’t as picked upon, or mocked, as they once were. D&D players have even figured out a way to monetize the hobby and achieve celebrity status, for example (if someone can let this D&D player know how that’s done, let me know). Being gay is not the same stigma it once was, in most circles (I’m aware in some backward places and in some misguided hearts, it is. We’ll always have bigots, unfortunately). 

Today harassment and bullying is rightly considered a toxic behavior, and tolerance and acceptance of others, virtues. 

But even if the real fight is not from without, authenticity still takes bravery. It must start from within. To be truly authentic I believe you have to recognize that you are worthy of love. Easier said than done.

But it’s worth leaning into. You’ll lead a better life.

When you stop worrying what others think about you, you free up huge amounts of headspace. It is liberating and empowering. It might cost you some friends, but they were never your friends to begin with. Mature human beings don’t feel the need to hang out with people who are exactly the same as them, and accept differences. 

Here’s a strategy for living your life more authentically.

Take your sense of self-worth down a peg. Recognize that no one sits around thinking about you—they’re too busy thinking about themselves. At least outside of your immediate family. Your spouse thinks about you, from time to time, and I’m sure your children do too. And vice-versa.

But for the most part everyone is walking around absorbed in their own problems, occupying their own headspace.

So stop caring so much what others think about you, because they’re actually not. If they do, it’s a passing thought, then they’re back to worrying about their own shit.

I’ve chosen to be me, not someone else. 

Be true within; project that truth out. Live authentically. 

Tuesday, January 16, 2024

Organizing my bookshelves: How I do it (YMMV—no hate)

Tor Conan, ERB, CAS, Moorcock... and more.
It’s time to weigh in on a topic so contentious, so divided, so fraught with the potential for incendiary and orgiastic violence, that to even conceive a post on it risks burning the entire internet to the ground.

I’m talking about how to organize your bookshelves.

I know, take a breath. Let’s review. 

We have options.

Alphabetical by author, or title. By genre. Year of publication. 

Do you put your favorite books on a shelf nearest to hand? Your rares and antiques behind glass or in some other high, unassailable place? 

What do you put on your shelves (besides books, of course)? For example, comic books? Role-playing game books? What are your thoughts on knick-knacks or action figures, to break things up?

The possibilities are endless. 

Despite my considerable misgivings I’ll tell you how I do it, and then you tell me yours. But no outrage. We can be civil about this.

***

Ahh, love that Nasmith-illustrated Silmarillion.
This holiday I got myself a bookcase—six feet high, 37 inches wide, five shelves. It is my fifth bookcase, and possibly my last. At least that’s what I told my wife. She doesn’t read this blog, BTW.

The purchase gave me the opportunity to reorganize my books, an activity I find immensely relaxing and gratifying. I go into a state of flow as I do this, or perhaps active catatonia. It’s like a simultaneous mental game of Jenga (where can I fit all my Edgar Rice Burroughs books together) while remembering there are so many books I need to read, or re-read. Plus I’m reminded how glad I am to have a Ted Nasmith-illustrated copy of The Silmarillion. I need to stop now and admire The Kinslaying at Alqualondë.

It's a lot of fun. I recommend it, if you haven’t done it in a while.

Here’s how I do it.

By genre, subcategorized by author.

Part of my S&S bookcase... lots of REH, KEW, Anderson.
I have my sword-and-sorcery on one seven-shelf bookcase by itself, spilling on to a second. 

I’ve got almost two complete shelves of Tolkien. One is on my lone upstairs bookcase, alongside my more literary collection of books.

I’ve got about two complete shelves of horror.  A World War II shelf. A shelf of biographies and non-fiction. One of mostly sword-and-planet. You get the point.

Within those genres I then subcategorize, by author. So on my sword-and-sorcery shelf I’ve got about two shelves of Robert E. Howard. In general fantasy, I group all my C.S. Lewis together, next to a group of Ursula Le Guin and E.R. Eddison.

There are caveats. Many of them.

I’m forced to break my rule when the books are too large to fit on a shelf. Conan the Phenomenon by Paul Sammon resides on an unrelated shelf because it’s oversized, and won’t fit next to my other Conan books which are mostly pocket sized paperbacks. Damnit!

The horror! Is that a figurine in there?
Sometimes I break my genre rule for the sake of author solidarity. For example I’m not going to put Stephen King’s Eyes of the Dragon on the fantasy shelf. It goes on the horror shelf, next to the rest of my King books. Even though it is fantasy I can’t bear to have one Stephen King book in another random place.

Sometimes I do break the author rule, for my own utterly singular purposes. I stuck the Chronicles of Narnia and the Space Trilogy apart from my other Lewis because I didn’t want to surrender that much shelf space to titles I’m not sure I will ever read again.

I do have a shelf of classic RPGs, and with the purchase of the new bookshelf I now have a comic box of Savage Sword of Conan on that. I am thinking about digging back into these after some time in storage and wanted them close at hand.

Yes, I am aware that these are not technically “books” so I may be committing sacrilege.

Is there a better way to do all this? Almost certainly yes. It’s weird and contradictory. But it works for me. My friends are always impressed by how I can lay my hand on a given title almost immediately, without thinking.

How do you shelf your books? Do you wish to inflict harm on me for my idiosyncratic choices? Leave a comment below.


More books...




Saturday, December 23, 2023

The Silver Key: 2023 in review

It’s the tail end of 2023. Another trip round the sun, another year of blogging on The Silver Key.

Many things of import happened this year.

I turned 50, and went places. To Las Vegas and Chicago for business conferences. Cross Plains TX for Robert E. Howard Days, and back to TX (Dripping Springs) for a fun company retreat. And to the Outer Banks, North Carolina, for a multi-family vacation and heavy metal party.

I delivered a keynote speech in May at a conference of 1500+ attendees to honor a former coworker and friend who passed away in 2022 at the age of 48 from breast cancer. By far my most meaningful accomplishment in 2023.

I spent a lot more time with my old man.

My wife and I found ourselves empty nesters. I have two daughters and my youngest went off to college in the fall. My eldest started her senior year in college, leaving us without children at home for the first time since… early 2002. It got oddly quiet all of the sudden, and we adjusted.

Life is changing. But I keep plugging away here on the blog.

I was making good headway until June, when my posting took a sharp downturn. This was due to my non-fiction heavy metal memoir taking sharp inroads into my free writing time. I went from 101 posts in 2022 to just 64 this year.

I hope to have the new book completed in 2024. I haven’t thought about publishing options as I’m focusing all my energy on making it the best book it can be. The first draft is 80-90% done and then comes revisions. But I’m liking how it’s shaping up.

Despite my posting falling off in the latter half of the year I passed 1,000,000 views since the blog’s inception. And wrote a few posts that resonated. So without further ado:

Most popular posts of 2023

1. 1979 Ken Kelly heroic fantasy calendar, month-by-month (231 views). We lost Kelly in 2022, and I covered his passing last year. But in June I gained a terrific Kelly keepsake, a mint condition 1979 calendar purchased at Robert E. Howard Days. It’s now hanging on my wall. The artwork is stunning.

2. The Big Excalibur Post (267 views). I think this was my best essay of 2023, written for the blog of DMR Books. I love Excalibur, I think it is the second or third best fantasy film of all time after The Lord of the Rings and/or CtB 1982. It’s gorgeous, but also literary--every allusion to the Matter of Britain is encompassed in John Boorman’s sprawling technicolor vision. No other film since has covered the Arthur myth with such savage, passionate beauty and intensity.

3. RIP David Drake (280 views). With every year comes the tolling of the bell for more sword-and-sorcery legends. Last year we lost Kelly, this year David Drake, best known for his Hammers Slammers series and military SF but also an S&S author of note. His “The Barrow Troll” made my top 25 favorite S&S short stories of all time.

4. My Howard Days 2023 Haul (287 views). People like book porn, and this post on my Howard Days haul was Triple-X. Something snapped inside of me at Cross Plains and I started buying up books with the abandon of a crack addict, taking home a massive glut that threatened to burst the bonds of my suitcase.

5. Sometime Lofty Towers, David C. Smith (293 views). An unexpectedly excellent sword-and-sorcery novel from Smith. Not that I don’t like his prior work (Oron, Red Sonja, etc.) but Smith delivered here his best work IMO, covering some thoughtful thematic ground in a fast-paced, bloody S&S novel.

6. Neither Beg Nor Yield and Other S&S Developments (306 views).  One of a handful of S&S kickstarters I backed this year. This gave me the chance to link to a two-part Keith Taylor interview I did for DMR Books (Taylor will appear in Neither Beg Nor Yield). I’m expecting this book soon and look forward to reading it.

7. Remembering The Cimmerian (316 views).  This now defunct print publication edited by Leo Grin was my introduction to Howard scholarship, and as a journal it has yet to be surpassed. I had an essay published in it and wrote for its website until it shuttered its doors in June 2010, an experience that deepened my understanding of all things Howard and heroic fantasy. I looked back on that here.

8. There and Back Again from Massachusetts to Cross Plains: A recap of 2023 Robert E. Howard Days (448 views). The full monty recap of my trip to Howard Days. Unforgettable, I can’t recommend this enough to any Howard heads. If you have yet to make the trip to the mecca put it on your bucket list. Somehow I found myself speaking on a pair of panels and working up the courage to recite a poem on Howards front porch, in between drinking Shiner Bock.

9. Are We in a New Sword-and-Sorcery Renaissance? Not yet. At least not commercially (795 views). I’ve enjoyed watching the recent resurgence in interest in sword-and-sorcery fiction (and like to think I played a small part in that, with Flame and Crimson). But I would not call what we’re seeing a third renaissance. There might not ever be one given publishing realities. The days of paperbacks on wire spinners in every drugstore are long gone, our attention fragmented, reading is in decline, and subgenres ever more narrowly and inwardly focused. But that doesn’t mean we aren’t building toward … something. Howard Andrew Jones’ Lord of a Shattered Land—a series of episodic stories that can be read singly but build toward a larger narrative arc—is a promising new title that takes the venerable subgenre in new directions while still very recognizably S&S.

10. Assessing the sword-and-sorcery glut (836 views). A polarizing post and these always attract the eyeballs. I piggybacked off an observation from Jason Ray Carney that we’ve gone from an S&S desert to a (relative) glut of new titles, making it hard to keep up as a reader. This topic sparked broad conversation in the S&S community. Some were critical (there can never be enough S&S! non-issue!), but unfortunately the underlying issue remains: Not enough readers to make this a sustainable genre for working authors. See no. 9. Of course given a choice I’d much rather have a glut than no new fiction, and this post was never meant to discourage new authors, just to point out that it was once possible to buy and read every new S&S release, and it’s now a lot more difficult.

My reading

This year I’ve read 44 books. I’m currently in a re-read of Bernard Cornwell’s highly recommended Warlord Trilogy, finishing up book two (Enemy of God). My favorite reads included The Silence of the Lambs, The Goshawk, The Art of Memoir, Night Shift, and Watership Down.

A personal note

My life is better than ever, a development tied to a commitment to my mental and physical health. I firmly believe that the more self-responsibility you accept, and the less time you spend doom scrolling on social media, the better your life will be. Take the time to discover your values. Make room for exercise. Eat less calories. Practice mindfulness. 

Yeah, I’m not a fan of generative AI as it is applied to art. I’m concerned with political divisions here in the U.S., foreign wars abroad, climate change, the mental health of our youth, etc. These are real problems, possibly existential. But to dwell too long on issues you cannot personally change is not a good use of your time. Start with you, then slowly work outwards. Read more. Write, or create in the way that suits you. Lift more weights. Listen to more heavy metal, and Rush. Rinse and repeat. My advice to you, free of charge.

Merry Christmas all, and thanks for reading.

Wednesday, December 20, 2023

Integrity

The second in a series about my personal values. Part 1 here.

The best definition of integrity is, doing the right thing even when no one is watching. A line often attributed to C.S. Lewis, though it seems that may be apocryphal. 

Integrity is standing for something good and right, and doing that thing even when it’s hard. The trait of trustworthiness. It comes from the soul of an ordered individual, and projects out into his or her actions.

Integrity does not mean you stand fixed and immovable in your beliefs forever. We should be learning over our lives. 

But on certain principles you don’t bend, even if it costs you physical or social capital. Possibly, everything.

The same holds true with integrity. You can’t let that go.

Integrity is related to truth though it is action oriented. We should do the right thing. Truth acknowledges that the right thing exists; integrity is how we operate with that first principle.

Acting with integrity doesn’t mean you must behave in private exactly as you do in public. No one walks around in their underwear in public when doing so in the privacy of your home is (fairly) acceptable. You can behave one way in private, and another way in public. 

But not on the things that matter.

Acting with integrity you don’t cheat others … even if you’re 100% certain you can get away with it. 

People who screw over others because they can get away with it destroy the fabric of a healthy society. Countries fail because enough people in them lack integrity. Leaders accept bribes and flaunt or bypass the rule of law with selfish, unilateral decisions. The individual at the street level sells rotten product or accepts money for a promised service he doesn’t deliver. 

Under these conditions life devolves into a squabble over who has more power (physical, or social). Debates are resolved not with reason but naked force. Might equals right. And the right thing becomes not only meaningless, but irrelevant. A nightmare, hell on earth. 

Integrity is anathema to hypocrites. Nothing is more craven than those who outwardly demand moral purity from others …  and then cheat on their spouses, accept bribes, lie to the board of directors, or exploit the weak to line their own pockets. Do these things, and you have no integrity. 

In healthy societies people who act without integrity are penalized with jail sentences and public shame. Recently the CEO of BP suffered this treatment, deservedly so. Because we have a choice to act with integrity.

Free will exists. And because that is the case we can choose to behave with integrity.*

Integrity is more important than politics. You cannot have an ordered political system without ethical people operating within it. I vote across both party lines for this reason, because I’m a believer in the person, not the affiliation. 

Integrity is more important than laws. The law cannot be everywhere, even in a surveillance state. Not to mention that the law must be applied fairly and enforced, which requires men and women of integrity. 

Imagine if everyone operated with integrity? What would that look like, at the micro and macro levels?

But we’re fallen creatures. Imperfect, and I don’t think we’re perfectible. 

We don’t always operate with integrity. We know what’s right, we know how we should act in accordance with integrity, but pressures make us waver. We succumb to weakness, and act outside the lines. 

That doesn’t mean we can’t forgive. 

FYI, I’ve failed. I’ve fallen on my face. I’ve done things that I’m embarrassed by.

But I pick myself up. And keep walking on the path of integrity.

It is encouraging to believe that the Holy Grail is within our grasp.

*Even very smart people who claim free will does not exist (i.e., Sam Harris, whose work I enjoy) almost always do not behave in accordance with this outwardly stated belief. 

Sunday, December 10, 2023

One million views, and counting

I passed a quiet milestone a couple weeks ago, of which I was unaware until a recent look at Google analytics data confirmed it.

One million views. 

As of this moment in history the creaky old blog has 1,008,307 views, to be exact.

Not sure what that really means, other than its a big round number. Before you celebrate, this includes bot traffic, one-time visitors that find the blog via image search, etc. Junk traffic.

But also good traffic, returning visitors who have taken some value in what I have to say.

1,000,000 views isn't anything worth celebrating for a website that's going on 16 years. I've never made any attempts to optimize it, monetize, etc. I've gone long stretches without posting. 

But I guess if there is anything to celebrate it's the endurance of the thing.

Of late I haven't been posting nearly as much as I'd like. A long-form non-fiction work in progress has eaten up most of my creative free time. But I have no plans to shutter this bit of cyberspace down, either, unless Google unplugs blogger.

If you've enjoyed the blog over the years thanks for reading. 

Wednesday, September 27, 2023

Still learning from my Dad

Me and the old man! At The Barking Dog, Amesbury MA.
I’m 50 years old and still learning.

Still learning from my Dad.

Dad is 79 and dealing with a host of chronic conditions—name it, he’s probably got it. His mobility is greatly diminished. He needs a cane, sometimes his walker. Most of his friends are gone, so he gets lonely. He has a grumpy, nippy “lovebird” as a companion.

I help him out. I pay his bills, help him with medical appointments, because he doesn’t text or email. Run a vacuum around his condo.

Last night we had a wonderful little impromptu dinner out.

Here’s the sad admission: It took some effort on my behalf.

I had planned to swing by Dad’s condo, check in on him, and pick up his mail. But he mentioned he wasn’t in the mood to cook and was planning to go out to dinner, alone.

I hesitated. I kind of just wanted to go back home. I am trying to eat better—do I really want restaurant food on a Tuesday? All the excuses.

After a few seconds of indecision I mentioned I was free, and that I’d go with him.

To say it was worth it is an understatement.

Dad misses his deceased friends, especially Willie, who he worked with, side-by-side, for the better part of 40 years. I knew the story of Willie’s retirement but asked Dad to retell it anyways. Willie said he’d leave a bottle of Jameson on his desk on his last day. My dad knew the day was coming, but Willie surprised him, sneaking out one day after lunch. But not before leaving the bottle and a few shot glasses.

My dad and five other guys spent the afternoon toasting to Willie while his boss looked the other way.

I also learned something new: Dad was invited to two weddings of much younger guys he worked with, but never hung out with.

Who does this happen to? My dad.

He always was charming, and he still has that social fastball. My Dad engaged the bartender far better than I could have yesterday, or any other day. I just needed to get him away from the TV. 

He had a great time. In turn, he got me out of my ennui.

I feel helpless sometimes when I’m around him, watching his slow decline. Yesterday he helped me as much as I helped him.

When I’m feeling isolated at work, bleeding into my personal life, it’s always the same cause: A lack of engagement.

I know need to spend my time not stewing on my own inadequacies, but helping out others.

Some career/life advice:

👉 Connect with people. Face to face if you can. If you’re an introvert, push through the resistance.
👉 Don’t assume; you’ll get burned through lack of communication
👉 Be clear about what you want. Listen in return.
👉 Be kind.

Thanks to Dad I am reminded of what I need to do. It doesn’t come naturally, but I’ll keep working at it.

Sunday, July 2, 2023

A very metal 50th birthday

50.

I celebrated a milestone birthday this past week at the Outer Banks, Corolla NC. This was not conceived as a "Murph's 50th"; we and three other families had been planning a summer trip as a “farewell to all that” sendoff for four daughters headed off to college in the fall. Four families about to become empty-nesters, and we wanted to give us and the kids something to remember. After many planning meetings and hard scheduling sessions we finally landed on the week of June 24, which happens to coincide with the day I turned 50 (b. June 26, 1973).

Which worked out beautifully. Geddy Lee fruitlessly prayed for time to stand still, recognizing that children inevitably grow up, and old friends have a tendency to grow older. Still, there was no better way to celebrate getting old than together.

16 people. One enormous (10K square feet, 3 floors, 8 bedrooms) rented house just a short walk to the beach. Imagine a seven-day party among great friends with whom you’ve watched your children grow. Folks with whom I’ve spent many memorable weekends, but never something like this. 

We saw wild horses, ascended a lighthouse, jet skied, played mini-golf with buckets of beer, went bar-hopping to the Sunset Grill in Duck, and beyond. Walked the beach, saw sunrises and sunsets. 

And I was treated to a surprise birthday party for the ages.

On Monday us six dudes (Steve, Rob, Brian, buddies all about my age, plus two sons) hit a local taproom, a pay by the ounce joint (amazing concept BTW). Which was awesome in its own right, but proved to be a ruse to get me out of the house. While we were out, the 10 gals back home went to town decorating and getting dressed up for a metal party.

As we pulled into the driveway I noticed odd decor on the front door. Skulls, devil horns, you know the rest. My metal senses were tingling. The door opened and I could hear KISS’ “Rock and Roll All Nite” blasting on the third floor. 

And walked up to this.


It was bedlam. Metal karaoke. We sang Whitesnake, Judas Priest, KISS, Poison, Iron Maiden, AC/DC, Twisted Sister, you name it, we queued it up. I was treated to a 10-minute pre-recorded video with wonderful tributes from friends, my wife, and, apropos to the occasion, KISS guitarist Tommy Thayer. Since my daughter uploaded it to YouTube I’m including it here; feel free to watch even though its personal (mother, brother, sister, wife, daughters, others, referencing stuff from my childhood and you will miss many of the references). I may or may not have dabbed a tear. Must have been the hairspray.

My wife Susanne, master planner and organizer, knocked this out of the park.  

The party continued on the outside decks. At this point our neighbors couldn’t help but take notice and they crowded their decks to watch the nonsense. A couple party goers jumped up on a picnic table and we had everyone singing “Rock You Like a Hurricane” and “Cum on Feel the Noize.”

As dark descended we walked to the beach rolling the karaoke speaker with us, blasting “Turbo Lover” and illuminating the boardwalk with strobe lights. Sang Whitesnake and Bon Jovi with the waves crashing behind us. Then came back home. 

Later that night I started a conga line that ended up in the swimming pool. One of the ladies forgot her phone in her back pocket. We stuffed a hot tub and kept the tunes and booze flowing. It ended with the cops coming out (noise complaint, justified) that finally ended things just short of midnight. Probably for the best since the celebrations started at 9 a.m.

We might be getting older but we still rock.

I’m officially an old fart, but also officially the luckiest man on the planet.



The wife and I... married 26 years, still metal.


Sunday, June 4, 2023

Blog slowdown/cryptic book announcement/life news

It’s happening again. I’m afraid the blog is going to slow down quite a bit in the coming months. But for good reason.

I’ve not only started but am now confident enough to announce that a new book will be forthcoming. When, I don’t know, but it’s fully outlined and I’m perhaps 25-30% of the way through the first draft.

I hate to disappoint my tens of regular readers, but it has nothing to do with sword-and-sorcery, or literature/literary analysis of any sort. It’s a biographical project, capturing a few formative decades of my life and a piece of popular culture that was and remains very important to me. 

That’s about all I want to say right now.

If I go long stretches without posting you’ll know why. I fully expect this second book to go much quicker than Flame and Crimson, although it has presented a very different set of obstacles, including a test of my memory and my ability to tell a compelling narrative. I hope I am able to write the book that I would want to read. I’m giving it my best. But after some tenuous beginnings it’s beginning to catch fire.

All that said I will continue to post here from time to time as the spirit dictates.

***

In other news my daughter Libby graduated from high school yesterday. That now puts Sue and I in the category of very proud but financially strapped parents thanks to two daughters attending college in the fall. But we got some great news when Libby was awarded the district’s top scholarship. It was announced at the graduation ceremony and was an utter surprise, to quote Tolkien a “sudden joyous turn” that will greatly help us with her tuition and reduce the amount of debt she’ll ultimately graduate with.

***

I also want to talk a bit about my seemingly newfound role as a public speaker. I definitely did not see this coming.

This past week I was asked by Libby’s friend and Pentucket class president to give a speech at the senior banquet, an end of year celebration for graduating seniors and their parents. I was allotted just five minutes (what can be said in five minutes?) and my request was for something meaningful and funny. Somehow I managed to deliver that with a speech about friendships, and how they must be cultivated and tended like a garden, lest they wither. It went more like 6-7 minutes and was very well received.

This followed hard on the heels of a 30-minute keynote session I gave in front of a crowd of some 1300-1500 people at a conference in the second week of May. This one I also had no choice but to accept; it was for former longtime colleague who died from breast cancer at age 48. The association (one I used to run) started a new award in her honor, and I worked with her longer and closer than anyone else. It fell to me as my task to sum up her life and impact, and expound upon broader lessons on living life with authenticity. Something Melissa did every day that I knew her.

I have to say I don’t much enjoy public speaking and find it very nerve-wracking and fear-inducing. But I also discovered that I seem to have developed (through many exposures and practice) some faculty for it. After each of these recent speeches I was inundated with dozens of complements, including people who seem to have taken inspiration from my words. Quite shocking for a confirmed introvert who has suffered with social anxiety.

I guess I would say, I’m pleased in each instance to have spoken. And I’ve come to realize there is a rare power in the spoken word that writing (my preferred method of communication) can’t quite replicate. If you get the chance, seize it. You can be good if you’re willing to put in the preparation. 

Friday, May 26, 2023

A week of endings

Libby with her coach, Todd Ruland.

This is a week of endings.

My daughter Libby ran her last race yesterday. She finished her high school track career at the Div. 5 state championship at Norwell High, placing 19th in the 2-mile.

It was her best time of the year by seven seconds. But she had to grind to get it.

You won’t see her name in the box score—top eight place at the state and get points—but I’ll take a top 20 finish. Because I know how far she has come to make it to the finish line.

When Libby was younger she was not in terrific athletic shape. She hated running, even though she loved soccer. She’d be the first to admit that. But during the COVID lockdowns something clicked. She was bored and started running on our treadmill in the basement. And transformed herself, and decided to go out for the cross country team.

Wild. This stuff happens with kids sometimes. You can’t predict it.

She became a three-sport captain and earned nine varsity letters, and a Cape Ann League all-star.

She did it with an amazing group of teammates, but she also did it by finding strength within.

Track and in particular long-distance running is a lonely sport.

In softball you cross home plate and your teammates are there to embrace you. Likewise in football when you get the touchdown, others are blocking for you. In track, you’re running alone.

Yesterday only a few of her teammates qualified for the states and there was no one waiting at the end of her last finish line. Except her dad, and her coach. She cried, I hugged her and told her damned proud I was of her.

I know great things will await Libby, because she has a terrific will, an incredible work ethic, and is kind and cares about people. I’ll take those over raw ability any day.

This was a week of endings.

Soon there will be a week of beginnings. She goes off to college in the fall. My wife and I will be empty-nesters, and life will change.

But first there is the high school prom tonight, and senior celebrations. I hope she enjoys every minute of the fun, because she earned it.

Happy graduation kid. Here’s to endings and beginnings.

Monday, May 1, 2023

There and back again from Massachusetts to Cross Plains: A recap of 2023 Robert E. Howard Days

Ken Lizzi, me, and Deuce, on sacred ground.
That Saturday morning long ago remains fresh in my mind. The day I stumbled across a hoard of Savage Sword of Conan magazines

The moment I became spellbound with the worlds of Robert E. Howard.

SSOC spoke to me on a level my then-favorite Avengers or Captain America could not. It was dangerous, barbaric, sexy, violent. Adult, with articles and photography to accompany the gorgeous black and white interior art, welcoming 10- or 11-year-old me to the savage Hyborian Age.

This wonderful, fortuitous find set me on a lifelong love of Howard and the subgenre of fantasy he founded, sword-and-sorcery. Little did I know that 40 years later it would also lead to an unforgettable trip to his hometown.

This past weekend I traveled to Cross Plains for 2023 Robert E. Howard Days. This was not a lightly-made decision. I live in Massachusetts, some 1600 miles from the small town in West Texas that Howard called home. With a wife and family, domestic obligations, and a busy professional career to manage, there is never a good time to do something like this, even though Howard Days had been on my bucket list for years.

Part of the whole wide world of Cross Plains.
But this year the stars and planets aligned. Two dudes whom I knew mainly from online interaction, Deuce Richardson and Ken Lizzi, had rented a house in neighboring Cisco, so I had company and a place to sleep. 

The time had finally come to head to the mecca of all things Howard and sword-and-sorcery.

Last Thursday I flew into Dallas Fort Worth and picked up a rental car. Shortly after 5 p.m. Ken, Deuce and I arrived in Cross Plains. The Howard House had closed for the day but two and a half days of non-stop celebrations were about to begin.

Thinking this could be a once in a lifetime trip, I wanted to see it all—the town, the house, the gravesite, the panel sessions. I also wanted to give myself adequate time to hang out and talk to the throng of Howard fans and Howard Days volunteers that make this event so special.

Deuce had wise words for navigating this dilemma: “Balance the living and the dead.”

So, I gave it my best go to honor the man and explore the town while also spending time with as many attendees as I could. I feel pretty good about the balance I struck.

With Jeff Shanks (left) and Mark Finn.
Meeting Rusty Burke, Fred Blosser, Patrice Louinet, Chris Gruber, Mark Finn, Jeff Shanks, John Bullard, Gary Romeo, Will Oliver, Dierk Gunther and others was incredible. I felt like I already knew many of them from YouTube videos, articles, and podcasts and the like, but talking and shaking hands with them all made it tangible. It was wonderful meeting fellow S&S aficionados Jason Waltz, Keith West, Jason Ray Carney, Aaron Cummins, Chuck E. Clark, and many, many others whose names I’ve unfortunately forgotten or failed to ask.

Far too few know the name Robert E. Howard and the opportunity to talk shop and swap REH nerdity comes very infrequently. At Howard Days its endless. “What’s your Howard origin story?” “What’s your favorite Conan tale?” “Have you read his westerns?” These spontaneous conversations happen in line to get your barbecue, perusing the tables at the silent auction, and especially in the evenings at the pavilion. It’s glorious.

The pavilion.
I thought for my first trip I’d simply soak it all in, but instead found myself serving on two speaker panels. On the first, the Glenn Lord Symposium I found myself sandwiched between two PhDs. But both proved incredibly gracious and down-to-earth. I enjoyed Dierk Gunther’s paper which attempted the formidable task of answering the charges of racism in “The Vale of Lost Women.” Will Oliver’s session was fascinating, offering up statistical evidence including recorded interviews with oil field workers to corroborate that Cross Plains was plagued by crime and violence during the oil bloom. This colored Howard’s worldview and creative output and helps to explain why he thought enemies might be lurking around the next corner.

I offered up “In a far country: The Frontier Fantasy of Robert E. Howard,” making the case for Howard as a writer experiencing the absence of a recently closed frontier, unlike his literary hero Jack London who experienced the gold rush of the Klondike first-hand. This absence caused Howard to turn to fantasy and frontiers within. I indulged the audience and myself with a few passages from Jack London and REH, which I greatly enjoyed reading aloud. It seemed well received and I expect it and the other panels to eventually appear on YouTube, courtesy of videographer Ben Friberg.

The atmosphere at the pavilion made it extra sword-and-sorcery
On Saturday I served on a second panel at the pavilion, “Sword-and-sorcery revival,” an informal, impromptu discussion of the recent upsurge in S&S publishing and authorship. I would describe the panel setting as a raucous tavern in the heart of the Maul. I’ve both run and attended many conferences, and at some point attendees hit panel fatigue and want to get down to the business of socializing. We hit the tipping point midway through and it was hard to control the volume in the pavilion; some 30 or so were quite interested in the panel but others were more interested in beer and conversation. I get it. We soldiered on and gave a pretty good rundown of current sword-and-sorcery publishers, authors, other outlets (podcasts, comics, etc.) and in general stoked enthusiasm for the revival of a genre Howard started back in 1929 with “The Shadow Kingdom.” John Bullard helped us greatly with the panel by making flyers and securing space. Thanks John!

Among the more unexpected experiences was feeling like a quasi-celebrity. I must have signed at least 20-25 copies of Flame and Crimson, Hither Came Conan, New Edge #0, and other odds and ends. Watching former Weird Tales editor John Bettancourt select Flame and Crimson as his raffle prize at the S&S panel and note that he had been looking forward to reading it was a strange, rewarding feeling. 

So, a lot of socializing and hanging out. But it’s also important to honor the dead.

Thank you Project Pride!
Nothing can quite prepare you for the first view of Robert E. Howard’s home and ultimately the humble bedroom where did the majority of his writing. Others have made the same observation many times, but its stunning that Howard was able to birth and deliver such vivid creations to the world from such small, prosaic quarters. It’s a testament to his unique genius. The volunteer docents who serve as tour guides, women from the Cross Plains community, were patient and wonderful. I learned that Howard’s father, Isaac, treated bloodied oil field workers right in the Howard home. One docent noted poetically that blood has seeped its way into the roots of the home.

We also folded in a visit to Brownwood to visit the family gravesite. We timed our trip just right, pulling into the sprawling cemetery in the golden sunlight of the late afternoon and paid our respects to Howard and his parents, laid side-by-side. Someone had left behind a book and figurine; I wish I had thought to do something similar.

I left with a more detailed depiction of Howard’s environs. All the tours including a bus tour of greater Cross Plains were absolutely worth doing. I found it to be a charming little community that feels a little like a relic of a lost age, with a few modern updates (a Dollar Store and the like).

Other highlights:

Witnessing the incredible dedication of the volunteers that makes Howard Days possible. The Cross Plains community rallies together to do wonderful things, and preserve Howard’s legacy is a year-round effort.

Buying enough books to break the back of a camel and strain the uttermost capacity of my suitcase. As I shoved volumes in every pocket and cavity I was advised my clothes were expendable. My haul included a pair of winning bids for two large stacks of Fantastic magazine (including the first appearance of Fritz Leiber’s “Bizaar of the Bizarre”) and a couple new hardcovers from the Foundation, the collected letters and poetry. Perhaps my favorite find was a 1979 calendar illustrated by the late great Ken Kelly. I'll share a pic of my hoard later.

Drinking beer at Red Gap Brewing on a gorgeous day while listening how Foundation board member John Bullard assembled the collected letters of REH for the second edition. Monster effort worthy of an award.

Attending the Robert E. Howard Foundation awards. Clapping for many deserving winners including John Bullard and Bill Cavalier, Willard Oliver, and Jason Ray Carney. I have not read Dennis McHaney’s Robert E. Howard in the Pulps (winner: The Atlantean), but was very impressed thumbing through Deuce’s copy. That definitely earned its award, too.

Listening to experts like Bobby Derie, Finn, Shanks, Louinet, guest of honor John Betancourt, and others at the panel sessions. The theme this year was “100 Years of Weird Tales” (founded 1923, still publishing) and the panelists were deeply informed experts and a pleasure to listen to. Derie in particular struck me as a walking encyclopedia of the Weird. 

Taking a break from Howard to visit Woody’s, a classic car and baseball memorabilia museum just across from the Howard house. This contained an immaculately maintained collection of stunning automobiles once owned by a wealthy private donor.

What's best in life? This.
Hearing “Cimmeria” recited aloud on the front porch of the Howard house in Italian, Spanish, Gaelic, and Latin. The first man up after “Cimmeria” recited “Solomon Kane’s Homecoming” FROM MEMORY, a tough act to follow. Best performance went to some dude from North Carolina who ROARED a poem Howard wrote about the joys of drinking and fighting, punctuated with accusations addressed to “You Sons of Adam!” He had us all laughing and cheering. Howard would have approved.

Working up the courage to read a poem myself, “The Rhyme of the Viking Path.” I gave the last few verses some appropriate barbaric emphasis and was pleased with the outcome and the crowd reaction. 

Talking heavy metal with a fellow fan as we waited for the poetry readings to commence (I need to check out Dimmu Borgir).

Walking across the same scenic iron bridge that Howard once traversed, which later inspired a scene from “The Whole Wide World.”

Chatting about Red Nails and Margaret Brundage with the great Fred Blosser—a dude I was reading FORTY YEARS ago in the pages of SSOC—in the Cross Plains public library as I scanned through REH manuscripts and a beautiful collection of Weird Tales magazines. Surreal.

Watching Master and Commander with Deuce and Ken while drinking Shiner Bock, a Texas classic.

Conversing with a great group about all things Howard and S&S during our final evening at the pavilion. I learned that Will Oliver is working on a Howard biography and is as passionate about the works of Karl Edward Wagner as I am. In short, finding my tribe.

So, there you have it. Robert E. Howard Days 2023 proved to be a quirky, fun, charming, welcoming, and utterly unique event that every Robert E. Howard fan ought to attend at least once in their lifetime.

I wish I could have done more, but 2 ½ days pass quickly. And I suppose that’s what return trips are for. Many prophesized that if I came once to Howard Days it would be forever in my blood, and I’d be back again. 

I suspect one day I will. 

Here's to Howard Days.


Tuesday, April 25, 2023

Howard Days are upon me

Two days from now I shall be standing upon the soil of Cross Plains attending my first Robert E. Howard Days.

This shit is real.

Some news since my prior updates…

The sword-and-sorcery panel of panels IS happening. I’ve got confirmation from moderator and organizer Deuce Richardson that “Sword-and-Sorcery Revival,” an epic, two-hour S&S-fest, will occur on Saturday, April 29 from 10 a.m.-noon. It's an unofficial panel—you won’t find it on the REH Days agenda. Which is very sword-and-sorcery come to think of it. 

Rounding out the panel are authors Ken Lizzi and Jason Waltz (the latter of Rogue Blades Foundation). Possibly a fifth dude. Expect wide-ranging discussion, from S&S’ beginnings in Weird Tales (this is the centennial of that legendary publication, after all) straight on through to the present day and the new flurry of activity we’re seeing. Throughout we’ll be raffling off some books to a few lucky attendees. A horned helmet may or may not be worn, a skull or two split.

Coupled with the paper I’m presenting at the Glenn Lord Symposium I’m going to be doing my share of gabbing. But mostly taking in a place in the dreaming west I’ve only ever dreamed of attending.

Deuce has also mentioned a brewpub in Cisco which has piqued my interest. I’m prone to quaff my share of ale.

In other news, Flame and Crimson publisher Pulp Hero Press has rebranded as Cimmerian Press. I am told they are finalizing a website that will launch as early as June. Cimmerian Press will focus on Robert E. Howard and other sword-and-sorcery non-fiction, and is seeking new authors to help build out its catalog. Let me know if you’re interested.

Expect a stream of pics and a post-action report here on the blog and elsewhere. 

Howard Days here I come.



Tuesday, April 18, 2023

Howard Days looming larger...

That red dot? I'll be there.
Just over one week until Robert E. Howard Days. Next Thursday, April 27 I’ll be flying out of Logan International and touching down in Dallas Fort Worth.

I can almost taste the Shiner Bock.

The CEO of my company lives in Austin and when I told him where I was headed he answered, “Cross Plains? Never heard of it.” 

He will after I come back. I'm sure I'll have some stories to tell.

At this point I’m buttoning up the final details.

I’ve gotta get some cash out of the bank and put together a list of the books I want to buy from the Robert E. Howard Foundation. I’ll be coming back 15-20 pounds heavier, from the books and the beer. 

I’m also putting together a list of books I plan to bring. These include a few author copies of Flame and Crimson and a couple contributor copies of Hither Came Conan, either as giveaways or to donate to the Silent Auction. Perhaps a few old S&S paperbacks of which I have duplicates. And any titles I want to get autographed from attending Howard-heads who have contributed to them--perhaps my copies of the Del Rey Conans and the like.

I suppose I oughtta pack some clothes as well.

Jason Waltz from Rogue Blades Foundation sent all of us contributors an electronic copy of Hither Came Conan. I plan to go through it over the next couple days to prime the pump and be prepared to talk about it in case I get any questions. I read the initial essays when they appeared on Black Gate a few years ago, but there is a lot more original material in the book.

I sent my paper for the Glenn Lord Symposium over to organizer Jason Ray Carney. This is a three-person session (we’ll each read a paper, one after the next) scheduled for Friday, April 28th, from 2:30 to 3:30 pm. The details:

Brian Murphy will present "Far Countries of the Mind: The Frontier Fantasy of Robert E. Howard.”

Will Oliver will present "Robert E. Howard and the Oil Boom Towns: Crime, Disorder, and Reality."

Dierk Guenther, topic TBD

Oliver (professor, Sam Houston State University) and Guenther (Tokushima University) are both academics and I am not, but hey, I have a blog and once attended college. I’m excited to do this, I hope what I prepared is worthy of the occasion.

I learned that Jeff Shanks, former co-contributor at The Cimmerian website and an essayist whose work I admire, will be at Howard Days. Awesome! I had hoped that Paul Sammon, author of The Conan Phenomenon and Future Noir: The Making of Blade Runner, might be attending as well, but it seems I missed him by a year. That’s a bummer, I’m a big fan of Paul’s work.

Deuce Richardson is planning an informal sword-and-sorcery panel of which I’m going to be a panelist, but no other details on that as of yet. More to come there.

Thursday, March 30, 2023

One month until Howard Days

This one escaped the pyre...
One month until Howard days…anticipation is building. A couple recent items of note as the clock counts down to April 27.

Longtime REH fan/observer/contributor Brian Leno generously sent me a free copy of The Cimmerian journal, vol. 4, no. 4 (August 2007), along with a pair of REH postcards from the foundation. I would be hard-pressed to even begin to provide the level of Cross Plains coverage here on the blog that Brian offered in this issue. Brian took a trip to Cross Plains in 1967 at age 11 with his parents and two brothers, and his TC article “Down the Rabbit Hole” details his second trip, 40 years later, this time to Robert E. Howard Days 2007.

This article has stoked a greater fire in me, if that’s possible. Brian writes eloquently of an evening trip to Howard’s gravesite in Brownwood, which he experienced in the moonlight. Of a wild evening in the company of whiskey-drinking Howard scholars. Of a long car ride to Fort McKavett, location of a famous REH photo; of a day trip to Enchanted Rock, near Fredericksburg, where Howard first envisioned Cimmeria. And a culminating tour of the Howard house with Don Herron as a tour guide. The same Don Herron who edited The Dark Barbarian and The Barbaric Triumph. Pretty amazing. And much more besides, including a bus tour of Cross Plains, a visit to the famous icehouse where REH once boxed, panel sessions in the Cross Plains library, and the Foundation Awards, of which he was a nominee for the Venarium (emerging scholar) that year. Plus some other interesting asides. This was a great primer for the trip.

Thank you Brian, for the generous gift!

I finished my paper for the Glenn Lord Symposium, tentatively titled “Far countries of the mind: The frontier fantasy of Robert E. Howard.” I hope it’s worthy of the occasion. A little longer than the 1500-1800 word cap Jason Ray Carney imposed, but not much. 

I’m planning to bring a few copies of Flame and Crimson and have heard from a couple folks who are attending with copies they want me to sign. I’ll gladly leave my mark. Maybe in blood.

A dream fulfilled... 40 years in the making.


Wednesday, March 22, 2023

Eternity in a loon tattoo


Earlier this month my older daughter Hannah turned 21; today my younger daughter Libby turned 18. I don't have kids anymore, I've got two adults I brought into the world.

They are now joined together by this unexpected tattoo on Hannah's shoulder. Drawn by Libby (if you look closely you can see her initials amid the feathers), then inked by an artist.

This one got me. Hannah is not someone to run out and get a tattoo, and both kept it from the wife and I until a reveal last night over Facetime.

The loon is a symbol of the magic that is our family's multi-generational cabin, which sits on the shores of Highland Lake in NH. When you hear the weird and mournful cry of a loon in the early morning hours, or as the sun sets, it's unforgettable. That sound is in Hannah's blood and is now on her shoulder, along with the bond to her sister.

My daughters are my greatest accomplishment and I have done nothing to deserve such wonderful souls. I have tried to raise them right, aim them in the right direction when life would steer them wrong. I think the kids are all right. 

Sunday, March 19, 2023

Cross Plains Chronicle: Less than six weeks to go

Hither Came Conan... and thither I go, to Cross Plains
The Cross Plains countdown continues … less than six weeks until events kick off at Robert E. Howard Days.

A couple new items of note:

I have been added as a speaker. I recently received an invitation from Jason Ray Carney to present a paper at The Glenn Lord Symposium, a panel session held the afternoon of Friday, April 28 at the Cross Plains Methodist Church. Jason is the moderator and Dierk Guenther is one other presenter, the third TBD. This is an academic session so I have to prepare and then read a paper of 1500-1800 words.

I just need to figure out the small matter of a topic. Feel free to fire any ideas my way.

Secondly, Rogue Blades Foundation managing editor Jason Waltz will be attending and debuting Hither Came Conan, a collection of essays about Howard’s most famous literary creation that seeks to settle the question, which Conan story is best in life? Including one from me, in which I stump for “Rogues in the House.”

For the record I don’t think RitH is the best Conan story, but Waltz had a hole he needed filling and I stepped up. I do the love the story however and upon re-read discovered an interesting subtext that became the focal point of my essay. So … is Rogues in the House the best? Read and decide…

That reminds me, I need to figure out how much cash to bring. There will be many opportunities to spend including a silent auction, books from the Robert E. Howard Foundation, plus the not so small matter of food and beer. I’m figuring a wad. And maybe an extra suitcase for my loot on the return trip.

All the non-fandom (friends, family, co-workers) I speak to about this trip are VERY intrigued, though their initial reaction is that I’m going to some cultural hot-spot like Austin or Houston or San Antonio, a bustling city with live music and art exhibits and high-end restaurants and breweries. 

Then I show them a map of Texas and point to Cross Plains.

“What’s that near?”

“Wait, Cross Plains has fewer people than my high school?”

“Have fun man! Send pictures.”