My values

The most rewarding professional activity I have engaged in this year was working with a leadership team to develop our company values.

We’re working to incorporate them in everything we do. At our weekly all-team kickoff we give values shout-outs to people who have exhibited them in their work.

This exercise prompted me to clarify my own values, and I thought I’d share them here. Just doing this is a hard proof point for no. 3 (“authenticity, inward and outward”).

• Truth—“When a man lies he murders some part of the world.” Without this everything falls apart. Lying makes me feel like shit, being lied to is the worst. So strive for truth, always.
• Integrity. Do the right thing, even when it's hard, and no one is watching.
• Authenticity, inward and outward—I’m the only one of me, I’m worthy of love, so I’m choosing to be me. Not being a chameleon in various people’s company, but bringing my unique self to everything I do. When you stop worrying what others think you free up huge headspace and feel liberated/empowered. Be true within; project that truth out.
• Seek connection—relationships create meaning. Family and friends, community, are what make a meaningful life. Giving back to others is inherently rewarding. Strive for connection—whether that is fun/bringing joy, or something deeper. I’m a natural introvert and enjoy time alone to recharge, but the best times in my life have been in the company of others.
• One life—You’ve only got one life, so don’t waste it, be productive. If something needs doing, do it right, and soon. Staying busy makes me happy. That also means operating with intention in everything I do, even my free time. Read the book on that Saturday afternoon; take the vacation. Enjoy it.
• Stay positive—There is too much negativity in the world. Twitter has forgotten that life is beautiful. Adopt a positive mindset. Rather than attacking others, assume the best in other people and treat them well. It’s a better operating system, and it also makes you a more likeable person.

If you haven’t done this for yourself, I recommend it. It’s not easy—they’re an operating system, they don’t change with the wind, so you’re not going to whip these out in five minutes. 

But if you don’t operate with clearly defined values, someone else will make you operate by theirs.

I don’t always hit the mark. But they give me something to aim at.

Cross Plains Chronicle: Less than eight weeks to Howard Days

The Robert E. Howard Days website is counting down the days, as am I. Less than eight weeks until I make the trek to central Texas and the Howard homestead for Howard Days 2023! Anticipation is building.

REH is not exactly selling me on the trip though. From his Collected Letters vol. 2: “I live in a section of the country not particularly stimulating to the imagination, unless the inhabitants continual struggle against starvation can be said to be a stimulant.”

Anyway…

I picked a good year to attend. 100 Years of Weird Tales is a theme which packs plenty of appeal for me. As you’d expect the panel sessions focus on the magazine that published its last pulp issue in 1954 but never really died. It soldiered on in fits and starts as a paperback and a magazine, all the way up through the present. Weird Tales played a critical role in the creation of sword-and-sorcery due to its permissive editorial policy which allowed for genre mixing and experimentation. And, as some scholars have noted, through its role as a "discourse community," which included a supportive but sometimes acerbic letters column called The Eyrie. Think message board and listserve pre-internet, and you're on the right track.

Let’s take a dive into the programming.

I fly into DFW just after 12:30 p.m. CST on Thursday April 27. We’re planning on heading into Cross Plains that afternoon and there are a couple events on schedule. Not sure if we’ll be hitting these or not, or just hang out informally at the pavilion. 

From the events page:

• 2-4 PM: The Robert E. Howard Museum is open to the public. There are no docents on duty. The Gift Shop is open and the grounds and Pavilion are available to all.
• 5-7 pm: Fish (and Chicken!) Fry at the Cross Plains Senior Center. Pending.

Friday April 28 is a full day. I definitely want to hit the bus tour of Cross Plains and surrounding areas (9-10:45 a.m.) and see the Cross Plains public library.

The first panel, 100 Years of Weird Tales, runs from 11-noon. Guest of honor John Betancourt, publisher at Wildside Press, is one of the panelists, as is Bobby Derie, whose “Deep Cuts in a Lovecraftian Vein” email newsletter I’ve been subscribed to for some time. Looks promising.

Here’s the rest of the official programming on the 28th:. 

• 1:30 - 2:30 pm: PANEL: The 3 Musketeers of Weird Tales: Panelists: Mark Finn, Bobby Derie, Jeff Shanks + others.
• 2:30 - 3:30 pm PANEL: The Glenn Lord Symposium. Jason Ray Carney, Moderator. Presenters: Dierk Guenther + two others. At Cross Plains Methodist Church
• 9 pm PANEL: Fists at the Ice House. Our perennial favorite presentation about Howard's most prolific writings, his boxing stories. Presented behind the Ice House on Main Street (next to Subway) on the concrete slab where Howard actually boxed! 

Beyond the content I’m looking forward to meeting the panelists. I’m a fan of Mark Finn’s biography of REH, Blood and Thunder, Jeff Shanks’ many essays, and Patrice Louinet’s work in the definitive Del Rey editions of Howard. I’ve corresponded with Jason Ray Carney and “met” him once via virtual seminar. Seeing and meeting all of these dudes in person will be something speical.

Saturday April 29th is also a full day:

• 11 am - Noon: PANEL: REH and Weird Tales. Panelists: Patrice Louinet, John Betancourt, Bobby Derie, Dennis McHaney.
• 1:30 - 2:30 pm: PANEL: The Art of Weird Tales. Panelists: Dennis McHaney, J. David Spurlock, Michael Tierney + others.
• 2:30 - 3:30 pm: PANEL: What's Up with REH? This is our wrap-up panel, devoted to the latest news of Howard publishing, entertainment and how his influence continues. Panelists: Paul Herman, Heroic Signatures + others. 

Of course, the tour of the museum grounds by Rusty Burke (4 p.m.), BBQ, and porchlight poetry readings to wrap up the 29th are a must. 

That’s a full three days and then I head back to DFW early Sunday morning.

Sword-and-sorcery updates: Howard Days, Flame and Crimson review

Headed to the hallowed homestead of REH...

A few items of note on the sword-and-sorcery front.

I’m headed to Howard Days! Yesterday I “locked in” with a non-refundable plane ticket and car rental. 

No turning back now. It’s official. Boston Logan to Dallas Fort Worth, April 27-30.

I’ve even got lodging lined up: I’ll be staying at an air BnB in Cisco with a couple dudes whom I’ve corresponded with, but never met in person: Deuce Richardson and Ken Lizzi. My wife is making me download a tracking app on my phone in case I wind up gagged and bound in the trunk of a car. 

Kidding, of course. I’ve spoken with Deuce on the phone and collaborated with him at The Cimmerian and now on the blog of DMR Books. He seems like a trustworthy fellow. Ken is an author with a website of his own who secured lodging for the three of us.

But I suppose if you don’t hear from me after April just assume I’m buried in the desert somewhere in the immediate radius of Cross Plains.

I plan to document the trip here on the blog, as this might prove to be a once-in-a-lifetime trip (or not). I’ve very much wanted to attend Howard Days for years, since I first heard about it via The Cimmerian. But cost and time commitments are formidable obstacles. 

I dropped $580 on airfare and another $335 on the car rental. Fortunately I was able to apply a lot of points to remove some of the sting. Three nights at the BnB split three ways looks to be another $160. 

That puts me over $1,000 and I have yet to buy beer, food, and books and other mementos. I figure I'll wind up $1,500-$2K in the hole.

But I imagine it will all be worth it when I set foot in the Howard homestead, which some have described as a near religious experience. I get to meet many of the personalities that I’ve only ever read accounts from, or seen in clips on YouTube. And see the place where it all started.

The theme for this year is 100 years of Weird Tales (first issue March 1923) so I look forward to the panels and programming, too. Weird Tales was the medium which published the majority of Howard’s stories and allowed him to earn a respectable income that outstripped his unsuspecting neighbors (until the fickle Depression Era checks ran late and unpaid obligations accumulated).

Much more to come here.

Flame and Crimson received a nice review on the website of the Grumpy Wizard. 

The review was kind and generous (and, not without thoughtful critique). There was a lot more in it than a typical Amazon or Goodreads review—both which I still deeply appreciate, but longer form essays are where I live.

Head over and read it. I particularly liked this observation:

I consider Flame and Crimson a case study in how the creation of a new forms distribution can cause massive change in an artform. It’s a lesson we should pay attention to in an age of rapid change in distribution and creation of media.

S&S was born in the pulps and I believe it is at its best when it bears some of the hallmarks that heritage (i.e., shortish, pulse-pounding action, and the weird). Unfortunately, today there is no comparable market to Weird Tales, though many are trying. WT not only paid its top authors a livable wage, but was permissive and experimental with form, and served as sounding board and ideas exchange between authors and fans. Genres not only grew, but were born in its pages. Today it still seems like most authors are writing multi-book epic fantasy, which holds little appeal for me.

Also this:

Always there is tension between the stasis of too much Law and the formlessness of Chaos! Too much of either is damaging and destructive. It is difficult but ideal to find the balance between a narrow and restrictive vision and one that is overly expansive. The best work within a genre is created by artists who explore the boundaries of its universe without straying into shapeless dimensions.

There is a tension of form in genre fiction. When you write for a commercial market you are faced with the pressure of reader expectations vs. authentic expression. Like the Grumpy Wizard, I enjoy fiction that pushes edges, but remains something recognizable…

… Along with stuff that is unrepentantly S&S. 

In the end, what matters most is not the boxes you check, the genre you work in, or the boundaries you cross, but the quality of the writing. 

Anyway, thanks Grumpy Wizard, for the non-grumpy, thoughtful discussion of F&C.

Dullness on the edge of rage

I used to rant a lot more here on the blog, and elsewhere. But today I find that most things in my small corner of pulp culture aren’t worth getting angry over.

These days I just can’t summon the rage anymore.

I still get angry. Very recently I’ve had my keyboard poised to write about that something that irritated me— Roald Dahl book alterations, ChatGPT-authored manuscripts spamming magazine publishers—but wound up saying, eh, fuck it. 

It’s probably because I’m getting older. I turn 50 in June, and I’m not taking testosterone injections. I’ve seen a lot, enough to know that the small stuff is not worth getting worked up over. The venom I once spat at overzealous J.R.R. Tolkien or Robert E. Howard critics has largely dried up. I’ve heard the critiques, the spats, the righteous anger; both artists remain beloved and always will be.

I think this recent change possibly limits my writing prospects. The easiest essays I’ve ever written were done in a blind heat of righteous anger and fury. Thoughtful writing is harder. And on some level I fear that maybe what I do produce will prove dull, milquetoast.

But, in general I think this is a good development. Certainly for my blood pressure, but also because I enjoy the calm that comes with a relative certainty that the world isn’t caving in. People aren’t actually coming for your old books. AI not only can’t hold a candle to good human writing, but in all likelihood the next evolution of the technology will be authentication systems that reign in the current chaos.

I also know there’s nothing I can actually do about these things, nor do I know all sides of these issues, and screaming about it with digital ink certainly won’t help. 

I can’t promise I won’t unleash a good rant now and then, but I’m going to continue to lean into positivity. If you want that stuff, Twitter serves it up 24-7.

Edit: OK, I am kind of pissed about Roald Dahl.

Remembering The Cimmerian

I own these guys, and others besides...

When I first got into this “thing” --writing about sword-and-sorcery and heroic fantasy, on the internet, and launching The Silver Key blog, more than 15 years ago—I had no idea what I was doing, or why. Only that I had a powerful urge to write about stuff I loved, and a few ideas to share. That I suppose I hoped someone, somewhere, might read. And maybe even take some amount of pleasure in, or learn something new from my scribblings.

 

One of the first people to take notice of this blog on any scale was the late, lamented Cimmerian website, and the editor of its accompanying print journal, Leo Grin. Back in November 2007 Grin penned a short post praising my newbie efforts. That post is now gone, but the uplift it gave me remains.

A few months later website editor Steve Tompkins emailed to ask me to join a few other writers to contribute to the relaunch of The Cimmerian website, which was moving beyond its Howardian roots to include a broader focus on heroic fantasy and J.R.R. Tolkien. 

Hell yeah. That decision took about three seconds to reach in the affirmative. Steve, I’m in.

 

Grin and Tompkins asked only that we post once a week and consistently hit our deadlines. That proved to be harder than expected with a full-time job that included travel. But I nailed it; I don’t think I ever missed a deadline.

Writing for the website led to my first submission for The Cimmerian print journal, which I believe was the first time I had ever been paid to write about fantasy, and, barring my work as a sports editor for a local newspaper, my first print appearance. Steve edited my piece, strengthened it significantly with some references to REH’s letters, and it went on to earn a nomination for best essay by the Robert E. Howard Foundation. I think Leo had some input on the essay as well.

  

The Cimmerian Journal was all killer, no filler, and served this space far better than any publication since perhaps Amra. Others have attempted similar projects and journals, most of which either faded away or failed. This should come as no surprise, given publishing reality. I have a pretty good idea of the time and effort that goes into high-quality print productions. The time required vs. the financial return just isn’t there. These efforts only work as a labor of love.

I don’t know how Grin did it but for five years he produced an incredibly high-quality, regular print journal with outstanding essays by the likes of Glenn Lord, Don Herron, and Mark Finn, reviews, recaps of Howard Days, original research, contentious and fun letters to the editor, and much more. Poetry by the likes of Richard Tierney and Darrell Schweitzer, for example. One of my favorite all-time essays, not just in the pages of The Cimmerian but favorite essays, period, was Steve Tompkins’ “The Shortest Distance Between Two Towers,” which I first read online but had to get in print. And did. It’s a wonderful comparison of J.R.R. Tolkien and Robert E. Howard that appeared in vol. 3 no. 3. (March 2006).

I’ve got a few of these issues in digital format, and the following print editions:

Volume 1 Number 1, April 2004

Volume 1 Number 2, June 2004

Volume 2 Number 2, April 2005

Volume 3 Number 2, February 2006

Volume 3 Number 3, March 2006

Volume 3 Number 12, December 2006 (yeah for a time The Cimmerian was being published monthly)

Volume 5 Number 1, February 2008

Volume 5 Number 2, April 2008

Volume 5 Number 3, June 2008

Volume 5 Number 4, August 2008

Volume 5 Number 6, December 2008

 

My first post for The Cimmerian website, “Mourning the loss of print fantasy pubs,” appeared on Feb. 7, 2009. You can read the start of all my old posts here; I would post the first few paragraphs and then link to the rest.

This glorious golden age with The Cimmerian was cut lamentably short. Steve passed away March 23, 2009, far too young, and the world lost an utterly unique, irreplaceable voice. Steve took a backseat to no one as an essayist and walking encyclopedia of the fantastic. I think he was a genius. Deuce Richardson stepped in admirably as managing editor and our work continued, but Grin shut down the operation for good on June 11, 2010. A subsequent crappy controversy and fallout with many former authors resulted in many posts coming down, and a splintering of its archive. 

Along with the end of the website came the end of the journal, in spectacular and melodramatic fashion. Grin declared that all the back issues were going up for sale, and any remaining copies would be burned like the pagan kings of old. I never saw pictures of said burning, but am told it occurred and that there were witnesses. Grin said he wanted to honor the investment of those that bought the journal and not have their collectibles and commitment diminish in value with hundreds of remaindered copies flooding the market. Every issue of The Cimmerian was individually numbered with ink, BTW. Pretty awesome.

On the one hand I respect this decision, on the other the gesture was a little too Viking, even for my Old Norse tastes. At the time I did not have the financial wherewithal to purchase all the back issues of The Cimmerian, so I bought what I could afford based on TOCs that most interested me. 

I cried out, once, when the proverbial torch was lit, and the journal pushed flaming out to sea. I believe they are still accessible in the archives of the Bancroft Library at the University of California, Berkeley, the Ray and Pat Browne Library for Popular Culture Studies at Bowling Green State University, Ohio, and the Library of Congress in Washington, D.C.

I keep meaning to go back and repost all my old Cimmerian essays in full on the blog, and one day may still. But my voice sounded different back then, and moreover I can’t get into that same headspace. I was a different man, the world was different, and I feel they’re someone else’s words, spoken from far beyond. Or perhaps it’s because I was part of a special crew committed to writing about all things sword, sorcery, Robert E. Howard, and J.R.R. Tolkien, a fellowship that has broken up. 

Anyway, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

It was an amazing time, and one likely never to be repeated. 

A monthly print journal? We won’t see that again.

Las Vegas is pretty sword-and-sorcery

Kind of like Lankhmar, but a little less stabby.

I've been to Las Vegas at least a half dozen times, all for work, and have emphatically decided that I'm a Vegas guy. Sin City is a "love it or hate it" destination, and I'm decidedly in the former camp. I would gladly visit every other year or so. Take in a show, gamble, watch the train wreck of humanity slouching down the strip, stay up late drinking until I join the train wreck of humanity slouching down the strip. 

... but only for 3 days at a stretch, after which no shower can get me clean and I need to head straight into mental and physical detox. Which is all very sword-and-sorcery.

Anyways, I'm back after three nights at the Palms Casino Resort for a healthcare conference. I managed to fit in some fun, including 3-4 hours of gambling my last night there. I set a cheap $100 cap and was up as much as $155 at the blackjack table, gave about all of that back at roulette, and called it a night after breaking even.

In addition, the long flights from my home on the east coast to the west and back again afforded me some rare sustained reading time that I took advantage of.

I managed to finish That Hideous Strength, the third and final volume of C.S. Lewis' space trilogy, which I started this year and can now cross off the bucket list. I feel rather guilty saying it, considering how celebrated these books are, but they didn't do a whole lot for me. Some great ideas in here, but I found the execution lacking. Lewis left a lot of drama on the table and it was all too dialogue-heavy, even plodding in places. But, I loved the concepts and appreciated the modern-day parallels with N.I.C.E. (the National Institute of Co-ordinated Experiments).

On the way back I started reading David C. Smith's Sometime Lofty Towers and man, this is simultaneously grim, dark, personal, and well-done, at least through the first 60 pages. Looking forward to finishing it and giving it a proper review.

On the subject of reviews, I have admittedly not kept up with contemporary S&S and am planning to rectify that this year. Here is a partial list of works I either want to purchase and read, or already have purchased and are part of my 2023 TBR list:

• Worlds Beyond Worlds, John Fultz
• The Penultimate Men: Tales from Our Savage Future (Schuyler Hernstrom and others)
• Sometime Lofty Towers, David C. Smith
• Arminius Bane of Eagles, Adrian Cole
• Frolic on the Amaranthyn, Chase Folmar
• A Gathering of Ravens, Scott Oden
• Swords of the Four Winds, Dariel Quiogue
• S&S magazines including New Edge #0 (full read), and my backlog of Tales from the Magician’s Skull issues

As previously noted I've started the year with S.M. Stirling's Blood of the Serpent.

I also backed the New Edge kickstarter (and recommend you do too), and am 100% confirmed for Robert E. Howard Days, with lodging lined up. 

More on that later, once I complete my Vegas detox.

2022 in review

2022 is just about in the books. Gosh, this was a good year for me professionally. After more than 17 years with the same company I changed jobs in March, and my life and mental health improved immeasurably. Nine months post momentous change, my overriding thought is: Why didn’t I do this sooner? But I guess I wasn’t ready; every season in its turn and all that.

Here on the blog and this relatively small, alternative online sword-and-sorcery/heavy metal space I inhabit, I was reasonably happy with the work I produced. It was my most productive year since 2009, on the basis of sheer number of posts (exactly 100 as I press publish, and I'll have a couple more before the year is out). I wrote several posts for the blogs of DMR and Tales from the Magician’s Skull. I guested on two episodes of the Rogues in the House podcast, which is always a blast. I won a second award from the Robert E. Howard Foundation, co-winning the Venarium, given to an emerging scholar in Howard studies. It's an honor, and I’m planning on making the trip to Cross Plains in April.

2022 was a good year for sword-and-sorcery. We got a new Elric novel from Michael Moorcock, who is still with us and still writing. We got a new Conan novel, S.M. Stirling’s Blood of the Serpent, which I have in hand but have not read, but am planning to begin soon. There are an increasingly large number of outlets publishing sword-and-sorcery, too many to mention here. Tales from the Magician Skull (which I continue to back on Kickstarter) is the most prominent, and the new issues have been good. Whetstone is an important outlet for new writers. New Edge #0 pubbed and I contributed an essay for it. Schuyler Hernstrom’s revised Thune’s Vision was awesome. I hope this small renaissance continues to gain steam. I need to check out more new authors and titles in 2023.

It was also a year of loss for S&S. We lost Richard Tierney, Neal Adams, and Ken Kelly among others. Kelly was a hard blow; his art was a big part of my adolescence, adorning the albums of Manowar, KISS, and various covers of Conan books and other S&S titles. 

This blog is evolving. It’s gotten more personal since I dumped Facebook back in April. Facebook was a place where I would share occasional posts about my family. I don’t miss that platform, but my family is a huge part of my life and so I need to channel that expression somewhere. I also think it’s because of how I’m evolving as a person; I’ve worked hard to balance the personal and professional in my life, and family/friends with my esoteric interests and private writing. Expecting a sharp divide on a personal blog and never mentioning the events of my personal life seems unnatural. So, expect more of that on The Silver Key.

Top 10 most popular posts

Here are the posts that got the most traction on the blog in 2022:

Some ruminations on sword-and-sorcery’s slide into Grimdark, 528 views. The S&S to Grimdark transition was an interesting one that I did not cover in Flame and Crimson, and when I wrote about here it proved to be my most popular post of the year. Like all the highest-performing posts this was linked to elsewhere, driving traffic to the site and the post views up. 

Whetstone #5, a review, 398 views. Many authors who appeared in Whetstone #5 appreciated my review of this publication. I’m grateful to editor Jason Ray Carney for producing such a fine, free outlet for new S&S and am looking forward to reading issue no. 6. 

S&S updates: Dunsany, New Edge, book deals, and a fine response to a troubling essay, 333 views. Speaking of Carney, I still agree with his response. 

My top 5 Frank Frazetta paintings, 302 views. Who doesn’t like a top “whatever” list? Couple with Frazetta imagery and no surprise this one rounded out my top 5. 

Top 10 reasons why I don’t care about Amazon’s The Rings of Power: 297 views. The Rings of Power sank beneath the waves like Numenor, only this event will not pass into Atlantis-like myth. And I still don’t care, although it’s disappointing. The subject matter deserved better.

On suspect art, sword-and-sorcery, and good storytelling, 282 views. My first of two off-the-cuff editorializing posts. This one defends old S&S.

Raging against Twitter and the dying of the written word, 282 views. This one takes the piss out of Twitter but also the need to constantly shrink messages to the smallest possible word count (and the lowest common denominator). Engaging in that garbage risks your own artistic integrity and attention span, and it’s not even debatable. 

A shout-out to five S&S voices on the interwebs, 274 views. We need more praise; I need to do more of this here in between the rants. These five deserved the props.

Robert E. Howard Changed My Life, 274 views. A great read deserving of a Robert E. Howard Foundation award. 

I, Black Sabbath (with incredible Conan imagery), 252 views. The single best S&S music video on YouTube; watch and see if you don’t agree. Plus the song is an underappreciated stone cold classic of Dio-era Sabbath. 

My reading

Damn but I can’t seem to hit my stated goal of 52 books in a year (book/week). As of this post I have read 44 books in 2022, and hope to finish a couple more before year’s end.

The best books I read this year included Larry McMurtry’s Lonesome Dove, Joe Abercrombie’s First Law trilogy, Who Fears the Devil? By Manly Wade Wellman, and Thune’s Vision. I also enjoyed re-reads of J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Silmarillion, Cormac McCarthy’s The Road, and Poul Anderson’s The Broken Sword, all of which are spectacular.

Other news of note

I have started work on another book. I don’t want to say much more than that, other than (and sorry to disappoint readers of Flame and Crimson) it is not sword-and-sorcery related. It’s not fiction either, but I will say no more, as I’m not sure if I have the ability to write it. I’ve only just begun and it may derail or reach an impasse and I don’t want egg on my face if I can’t finish. But I have much more than just an idea, the outline is done and I’ve started principal writing. We’ll see where it leads.

I survived a bout of COVID, saw Iron Maiden and Judas Priest along with a handful of other live shows, and enjoyed several business and personal trips, including one with my family to Bar Harbor, a kickass guy’s weekend in New York, and a company retreat to Dripping Springs, TX. I’m grateful I have my health and my old man is still here.

To put a wrap on this overlong and semi self-indulgent post, thank you to everyone who has read and enjoyed anything I’ve written, on this blog or elsewhere. I hope you have a Merry Christmas and a wonderful New Year celebrating with friends and family, or with a broadsword and tankard of ale on the rolling deck of a longship. However you choose to celebrate.

Plant a seed today, it may bear fruit tomorrow.

Recently I attended my daughter’s season-ending cross country banquet. Libby is a senior captain, and so was one of four girls who gave a speech in front of the crowd of about 150-odd athletes, parents, and coaches.

I was blown away when hers began, because, very unexpectedly, my words were coming out of her mouth.

My daughter is a terrific student, ranked no. 3 in her class, and a talented runner. But she’s also a teenager. That means, we often get nothing from her. One-word answers, or silence.

(Typical conversation over dinner: “How was the sleepover at Lia’s last night?”

“Good.”

“Wow, coach must have been happy with the way you guys ran today!”

“Yup.”

And so on).

Of course, we love her just the same. And, she’s far from a robot. I’m generalizing here; sometimes she’s conversational, even chatty. But that’s not the norm. She’s a default teen, as she should be, at 17. She’s also had her share of struggles, but that’s for another day.

Then came her cross country speech.

A year ago I was inspired to write Libby a poem, the day after her team won a hard-fought Cape Ann League championship in the mud and rain. When the results were announced they were overjoyed, and embraced, a group of girls grown into a tight circle, bonds forged through the fire of competition and tough practices.

But I also knew it would not last. It was already becoming a memory as they got their medals on the podium and boarded the bus for home.

That scene of the girls in a circle in the rain inspired me to go home and write a poem, “Running Against Time.” I printed it out with a picture of Libby and a teammate and left it on her desk.

In typical Libby fashion she did not make a big production out of it. I think she sent me a text with a couple of hearts. She did hang it on her wall, so that was a win.

Fast forward a year. I had almost forgotten about the poem until the banquet when she began her speech with those same words I had written a year ago.

It was an incredible moment. To see her so articulate. To appreciate something I had left for her.

To think that I had made an impact, very unexpectedly.

If you want to read “Running Against Time” click the image above. I’m OK sharing it since she did, so beautifully, for a crowd. It was part of a broader speech about the amazing memories she made in cross country, the people who impacted her, and fun memories.

I loved her words of wisdom to the freshmen and sophomores not to take it for granted. Because her race was now run.

So, plant a seed.

Do it without expectation. Many of your seeds/deeds will wither, or remain dormant. But some will flower. And surprise you.

Libby, blue dress/center, and the rest of the Pentucket XC captains. Great kids.

Your critics aren’t in the arena. Ignore them.

Here’s something I’ve learned from decades of publishing.

When you are a writer (or podcaster, or visual artist) with something to say, you will inevitably attract an audience. 

And you will inevitably become a target of critics.

When you express yourself clearly, with conviction and experience and wisdom as your guide, you will inspire readers. But, you will also piss a segment of your audience off. 

The latter are people who recognize something they don’t like about themselves in your words, and through social media are conditioned to think that drive by insults are permissible (because of course, in the real world, they are not). They will troll you, claim their second of “victory,” and then return to their regular diet of YouTube videos and porn.

Ignore them. They are beneath you.

Because you are something they are not. 

You’re a creator.

This is not a call to be aloof, and wear blinders to criticism. Stay alert. Listen to legitimate feedback. You will be wrong from time to time. I’ve been wrong, and made mistakes, many times in my life. Own up to errors; use them to get better.

But, when you write from a place of strength, genuine expression, and your own unique  viewpoint, i.e., a place of Truth, a handful of haters will have a problem with it. Recognize that the problem is in them, not you. Understand that they have work to do on themselves. Ignore them, and if you can find it in your heart, find pity for them. They can’t see their own limitations and pettiness; one day they may. 

But above all, don’t give them the gift of your precious attention. Time is your only irreplaceable resource. Stay on your path. Keep creating.

Here’s a helpful coping strategy: Critics and haters are an inevitable part of the game. They are indicative of success. Despite my annoyances, I like them because it means I’m writing well. 

This is not a call to be an edgelord, to produce antagonistic and needlessly provocative material. But if you don’t piss anyone off, ever, you’re probably doing something wrong.

One of the quotes I return to again and again is Teddy Roosevelt’s Man in the Arena. You probably have heard it before, but if not, here it is:

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”

I am the man in the arena. I’ve written thousands of newspaper stories, and newsletter and journal articles. Thousands more blog posts, for this blog and a dozen other websites. I’ve written dozens of print essays. And now a book. I’ve hosted and produced hundreds of podcast episodes. Spoken in front of audiences larger than a thousand, for more than a decade. I’ve mentored young writers and editors, and led teams.

And, I’ve been paid well to do it. I earn my living at the keyboard. I’ve won multiple awards.

This is not boasting; these are facts. I am now at the place where I can distinguish cheap attacks from legitimate critiques, because I know far more than just about all my critics. More about my own work, and about what it means to be a professional, then they do.

If you’ve written, or painted, or coded a website, built a house, made anything using your creativity and your heart and soul, you too are that man in the arena. You are a striver and doer of deeds; your critics are the cold, timid souls hurling insults from the sidelines. Never donning the pads and getting dirty in the playing field, where it counts.

Win or lose, you are striving, and your striving is admirable. That makes me your fan. 

My advice to anyone reading this who creates for a living: Keep doing it. You’ve already accomplished more than 90% of the world ever will. Don’t take praise as a sign you are unassailable; stay humble. But likewise, don’t take criticism personally; stay the course. 

If you can do this, you will win.

Post Halloween roundup: The Willows, mysterious writing projects, and other news and ephemera

I carved this! Thanks template.

I always feel a bit sad when the pumpkin candles burn out and I turn off the porch light on Halloween. My favorite holiday has come to a close for another year. Now the days get shorter, colder. Winter is coming. Etc. We were light on trick-or-treaters this year but had maybe 20 kids come by for candy. A few costumes made me smile, including a chubby illuminated ghost, one of those inflatable units. I could see him coming a long ways off, an eerie shade of green. He was unsteady, couldn’t see his feet, and his aim on his candy bag was off by a good six inches. I picked up the candy from my stoop, put his treats into his bag for him, and sent him on his way, watching as he waddled across the lawn to catch up with his friends.

A bit of the season is still kicking around, some leftover candy. My essay on Algernon Blackwood’s “The Willows” was published on Goodman Games/Tales from the Magician’s Skull website. I’ve read this story perhaps three times now, it has incredible atmosphere and delivers a chill. It was nice to revisit the haunted island in the Danube again for this piece.

In other news…

I’m writing an essay for a future Rogue Blades Foundation book. I don’t know what (or if) I’m supposed to say about it, I’ve seen no official announcements, so I’m staying mum. But the contract is signed and the short essay largely complete. I’ll give it another edit before submitting. More to come there.

Speaking of staying mum, I’ve got a Big Idea for my next book. A cool concept, a detailed Table of Contents, even. I don’t want to say much more until I start writing and reasonably believe it’s something I can pull off. I may yet decide it’s a bad idea, or beyond my ability to write. I’m superstitious about these things. But, it’s a subject near and dear to my heart. Far more memoir than Flame and Crimson. Not academic, but personal. And fun.

Working my way through the final volume in Joe Abercrombie’s The First Law trilogy, Last Argument of Kings. Another massive tome, just after Lonesome Dove? Not like me. But, so far so good. Inquisitor Glokta is up to his creaky immobile chicken neck in political machinations and weighted favors that may cost him his life, Logen Ninefingers is back from the dead and with the old gang on the front, and the war in the North is about to erupt in fresh violence. Good stuff here from Joe.

I head down to Austin, TX next week for a three-day bender—err, company retreat. The CEO and founder of my new company is flying all 30-odd of us out to Camp Lucy, a resort hotel in Dripping Springs. All expenses covered, prepared meals onsite, open bar, axe throwing, archery, other assorted awesomeness. It’s tough being me sometimes. I’ll probably need a liver transplant after this.

Why bother blogging? And other personal updates

Why?

Why do I continue to keep this blog?

I’ve been doing this a long time, since Sept. 2007, save for a long break circa 2013-2019 to write Flame and Crimson and tend to other matters in my life.

What is its purpose? What is my purpose, continuing to post after all these years?

Occasionally I ask myself, why bother? But such feelings always pass, and I continue my scribblings into the electronic ether. 

I don’t know why I’ve continued. But let’s see what I can come up with.

I love old authors and old bits of popular culture that are slipping away, and I want to preserve them. Jack Vance, Poul Anderson, Fritz Leiber, etc. are grandmasters of fantasy and SF, towering talents better than most authors you will read yesterday, today, or tomorrow, but I’d be surprised if their combined annual sales are 1% of Brandon Sanderson. And then you’ve got dudes like Karl Edward Wagner, Charles Saunders, Gardner Fox, C.L. Moore and others who, outside of some diehard horror and S&S circles, are rapidly fading into yesteryear. I like talking about their stuff and keeping it alive, because it’s damned good, and they need champions.

I am pushing back against Twitter and the dying of the light of (semi) intelligent conversation. Not fighting Twitter in a literal sense (I have no more or less disdain for that platform than any other), but the notion that our thoughts can be compressed into 280 characters, and that history is meaningless. I’m not exactly a purveyor of profundity here, but I try to write the stuff I like to read, that has some amount of context and substance. You can see every post I ever wrote here on this site if you choose to do so, no account necessary. Does anyone read old social media posts? They are vaporware, spoon fed by algorithms over which you have no control. I don’t think they can even be searched in any meaningful way. I like that this page is static AF, boring even. Just read it and leave. But here it remains.

I am fighting the trend of “hot takes.” By which I mean, unqualified gushing praise, or unwarranted criticism, of new and hot properties, for clicks, followers, and ad revenue. My takes are about as hot as reruns of the Golden Girls. I’m OK with not having 500,000 followers as a result.

I’m stubborn. I am aware that blogs are so like, 2008 man. This platform has been supplanted not by Facebook, but by MySpace … and then Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and TikTok. It’s a dinosaur way to do “this thing,” whatever that may be. I sometimes wonder if Google will just up and delete the Blogger platform. But I despise the need to obsessively create accounts on the latest and greatest platform, again and again. Why? Where does it end? Maintaining 26 social media accounts, and pouring your entire existence into a digital vortex of bullshit? I think most people would be best served picking one or two platforms and settling in. But I’m aware that patience and attention span are in short supply.

So in summary, I’m an old fart who likes old things, including evidently a fondness for outdated blogging platforms. I guess that means I’m here to stay, at least until Google says otherwise.

--

A few other matters less contemplative.

I am reading Larry McMurtry’s Lonesome Dove. I’m not much of a western reader, at all. Cormac McCarthy’s Blood Meridian, a Zane Gray novel or two. Some Breckenridge Elkins… that’s about it. But this one had caught my eye (reviews exclaiming, “if you only ever read one western, make it this one,” Pulitzer Prize winner, etc.) and I needed a sword-and-sorcery break, so I pulled this one off the shelf. It was a slow slog at first, 200 pages of OK slow build, but I’m really enjoying it at the moment. Incredible character studies, outstanding portrayal of frontier life in the waning days of the frontier, some shocking violence. McMurtry skillfully puts you into what a long distance cattle drive in the 1870s/1880s must have been like. Some absolutely beautiful passages. I’m glad I’ve made the effort as the damned book is a monster (858 pages).

Simultaneous with this western foray I’m also in full-blown Halloween mode. I wrote a piece on Algernon Blackwood’s “The Willows” for Tales from the Magician’s Skull. Last night I re-watched The Lair of the White Worm (1988). Campy as hell, fun. Recommended. Prior to that watched “The Vampire Lovers” (1970, Hammer). Also campy and fun, and recommended. Both films star absolutely gorgeous female leads, too.

If you sign up for the mailing list (free) for New Edge Sword and Sorcery magazine you will be entered for a drawing to win a free hard copy of Flame and Crimson. I will mail the book myself, how about that? And make my mark on it, should you want that.

I am committed to going to Howard Days next year. You read it here. More to come on that later. 

I’m on Day 4 of COVID and feeling much better this AM. In another day or two at most I should be back to regular form. Note to self: Get the booster. Dealing with this is a pain in the ass. I’ve had worse cases of the flu, but COVID places your life on hold as you isolate. Not cool to miss your daughter’s senior day cross country meet.

Ace Frehley lead guitar!

One of my fondest heavy metal memories is seeing Ace Frehley at the now-defunct Underground, a former rock club in Lowell, MA, back in March 1994. 

At the time my friend Wayne and I were a few months shy of our 21st birthdays. But we liked to drink (still do), and outside in the parking lot we pre-gamed in good Ace fashion, splitting a 12 pack of Zima. 

Yes, we split a 12-pack of that now-infamous malt liquor that (to quote David Letterman) “tasted like Zhit.” It did, but we weren’t picky. As I recall it was introduced that year and everyone was drinking it. It was “Zomething different.” Don’t judge me too harshly. 

Putrid, but fun.

Inside they were handing out wristbands to anyone 21 and older to ease the sale of liquor (it was dark, and crappy inside, hard to check IDs). But they weren’t checking these too close, and Wayne and I discovered that we could freely buy Bud from the young waitresses working the crowd.

All was going great until Wayne caught the eye of a bouncer with 3-4 songs to go. With a beer in his hand and no wristband, Wayne got tossed. And I had a decision to make.

Shit man, I said to myself. Ace hasn’t played Do Ya yet. Fuck it, I’m staying. And so I did. While Wayne cooled off outside, I rocked out to the encore. 

He still gives me shit about it to this day. No regrets from me though.

Anyway, tomorrow night Wayne and I will be seeing 71-year-old Ace again, this time at the Cabot Theater in Beverly. Can’t wait. The Spaceman oozes style, and always puts on a good show.

Ace was always the coolest member of KISS. Never a good singer by anyone’s imagination but he wrote and performed some good material. “Rock Soldiers.” “Shock Me.” “Strange Ways.” “Fractured Mirror.” “Snowblind.” “Rip It Out.” Covers of “Do Ya,” “New York Groove” and “2000 Man.” Live he plays a lot of old classic KISS songs, including “Gold Gin,” a stone-cold classic which he wrote, and “Parasite,” which he co-wrote with Paul Stanley. I think he was a talented guitar player, with a unique sound and style, even though he squandered a lot of that native ability beneath a flood of booze and drugs in the 70s and 80s.

His 1978 self-titled album is duly accorded as the best of the four solo efforts by KISS. 

Here's his cool guitar work from “Fractured Mirror,” off that same album.

A bookish nostalgia

Humans are on a path of upward progress. This is a good thing. We enjoy material comfort and personal levels of wealth unimaginable 200 years ago. We’re living longer, in less pain and with less physical suffering, than any generation prior. I’m not denying the looming potential catastrophes of China saber-rattling and the deteriorating climate. But I’m hopeful that cooler, economic heads will prevail, and the latter will be solved through emerging tech and greater corporate responsibility.

But, we lose things along this path of progress, too.

As a kid growing up in Reading, Massachusetts I had access to a bookstore that was so much more than just a place to plunk down your nickels. My memories are wreathed in a blanket of nostalgia so thick and cloying that they are likely unreliable, but for me and a few friends this bookstore was a place of wonder. 

I remember the smell, musty but not foul, the one you get when you thumb the pages of an old book near your face and let the breeze riff your hair. I remember the creaking floorboards under my feet. And the sprawling, semi-disorganized riot of it all, old and new titles and wild and fantastic covers colliding in color.

This bookstore carried tons of comics, all the new stuff on display, but reams of back issues, boxed and bagged, ripe to explore. Its book inventory was mostly second-hand, and I was eventually able to buy most of the Lancer Conans and many other old paperbacks too. Dungeons and Dragons and other assorted role playing games could be had. It carried Dragon and White Dwarf, which allowed us to keep up on the RPG news of the day. This was a place to learn.

Money was a limiting factor so we’d spend a lot of time looking through the massive collection of books and comics, reading, observing. I would eventually buy 3-4 issues of Savage Sword of Conan, perhaps, as many as I could afford, and trek home, barely able to contain my excitement at the reading I had ahead. I would stop for a can of soda at the firestation. This had a side door, open to the public, and the soda machine was programmed I think for 40 cents a can, 15 cents less than the corner drugstore. That’s a big difference when you’re living off an allowance or lawn mowing wages.

I’d go home, put my feet up on my desk, and get lost in the Hyborian Age, or the Avengers mansion, or the weird stories told in Heavy Metal or Epic illustrated magazine.

Life was moving slowly, but it was great.

You probably know what is going to happen next. That old bookstore succumbed to soaring real estate values. The owners probably couldn’t afford the rent anymore, or it might have been that the book traffic was getting sucked to the malls of a couple neighboring towns. I don’t know. But one day it closed, and eventually the building in which it stood along with a few other businesses was razed, and replaced with a … bank. Commerce won the day. 

This was near the time that the likes of Barnes and Noble and later Borders were eating up all the book traffic. But soon even those far more standardized, safe, generic bookstores that ate up the little guys would themselves suffer the same fate, succumbing to the grinding wheels of Amazon and online efficiency and convenience.

Maybe I’m just romanticizing a time that I’ll never get back to, or I'm becoming an old fart. Probably both. But I feel like I’m not just reliving lost and fond memories of childhood, but rather remembering a real time that was markedly different. One where I could just be. Before the Great Distraction.

The internet and its subsequent rapid adoption and proliferation has changed the nature of human interaction in ways we really don’t understand. Life was moving slower then. We learned differently, through books and word of mouth, inherited wisdom, or a once daily newspaper or evening newscast. Not an iphone. I know others feel like I do, that sustained reading is much harder today than it used to be.

We were also seemingly much less angry. Yes, humans fought a lot, in terrible wars. But the long spaces between were not filled with what they are now, unending nastiness and pettiness and virtue-signaling and screaming about injustices and offenses, 24-7.

We’ve lost something that we will never recover. 

J.R.R. Tolkien understood this. We move from magic to modernity, from superstition and myth to reason and science, and lose something beautiful. It’s inevitable, and many new things are beautiful, but during this process we discard the old. And it’s sad. 

It’s OK to mourn and honor the past, even as it slips through your fingers.

More awesome Tom Barber art

Tom Barber was kind enough to send me a few more digital images after my recent visit to his home and studio a couple weeks ago. I'm posting them here with his permission, appended with a few comments.

Enjoy the hell out of them. I sure did. I'm particularly fond of the first. That's talent, folks.

(per Tom:) The ‘monster’ is a scientist scarred by burns received in a laboratory fire, and he’s rescuing his little friend from the ignorant crowd of scared townspeople who hurt her. He’s taking her deep into the swamp where he’ll bring her back to health. One of my earliest. Don’t know where the story came from. Never in print.

This is Harlequin, the band/friend of Tom's mentioned in my prior post. Not the Harlequin from Canada. Started in Florida and ended up in Boston.

PTSD.

Compadre of the skeletal warrior from the cover of Flame and Crimson.

Skulls, crusaders, and all things esoteric: Meeting up with Tom Barber

Our annual week vacation at our family camp in Andover, NH afforded me the opportunity to again spend a few hours hanging out with the man, the myth... Tom Barber. This was my third meetup with the classic S&S and science fiction illustrator, and as always it was time well spent with a one-of-a-kind, all around good dude. We hung out in the detached studio behind his house to escape the hot sun, and it was a place of wonders.

Tom hasn't done a lot of work of late, but did show me an incredible album cover he painted for a heavy metal band out on the west coast. They were very happy with the end product, buying the original and all the licensing rights, and they should be (it was an image of a faceless apparition, chains dangling, hands grasping. Could have made the cover of any Zebra paperback in the 1970s. I hope we see it online soon). He also told me he sold three paintings to the owners of a development company that is building some high-end condos in the neighboring city of Franklin.

This time I got to meet his significant other, Terri. Tom broke out an old tape of a band he once hung out with, Harlequin. Very cool, 70s hard rock/proggy/proto heavy metal stuff, epic sound (I don't believe it's the Canadian band that turns up first in Google... might be wrong though). Tom painted a wonderful picture of the lead singer in renaissance garb back in the day and plans to ship the painting out. 

He also showed me some of his old artwork that he did for Amazing Science Fiction, and some much more recent work for Amazing Stories, as well as an unrelated work in progress. Pictures below. We chatted about all kinds of stuff, including Vikings (Tom is a fan of The Last Kingdom Netflix series; which I haven't seen yet; I recommended he watch The Northman film) and all things esoteric. It was cool to see an old cover of the Andrew Offutt Cormac Mac Art novel The Undying Wizard on his wall, as Barber is a huge fan of the talented Jeffrey Catherine Jones. He left me with a copy of The Lucifer Principle. I plan to read it.

Again if you are interested in obtaining any of Tom's paintings this is only a fraction of what he has for sale. Hit me up and I'll share his email address.

Post vacation, back in the saddle again

A couple shots of Bar Harbor

There are the shores of Faëry

with their moonlit pebbled strand

whose foam is silver music

on the opalescent floor

beyond the great sea-shadows

on the marches of the sand

that stretches on for ever

to the dragonheaded door,

the gateway of the Moon,

beyond Taniquetil

in Valinor.

--from “The Shores of Faëry,” J.R.R. Tolkien

Last week I took a vacation with family and friends to scenic Bar Harbor on the beautiful coastline of Maine. Highly recommended. Sandwiched between the Atlantic Ocean and the 47,000 acres of Acadia National Park, it’s a bit of paradise on earth. Worth going to at least once in your lifetime, regardless of your proximity to New England.

This was my first time off in 2022, save for a hectic few days in between a job change, and was sorely needed time to disconnect and just be. We followed that up with a 4th of July weekend up to the family lake house in NH, culminating with a friend touching off a wicked black powder cannon to celebrate Independence Day. That’s what you call ending things with a bang, one that I’m still feeling in my sternum.

It’s over now, but I’m finding myself glad to be back home in and familiar surroundings and the old comfortable routine.

A few swordly-and-sorcerous updates.

Man, there are some good new S&S podcast episodes I’ve gotten caught up on.

The Cromcast published nine episodes of panel sessions, academic paper readings, and casual conversations from the recent Robert E. Howard Days in Cross Plains, TX. Again I’m reminded of how much I missed by not attending, and how I’m publicly vowing to attend in 2023 (I’m writing this here again to make sure I hold my own feet to the fire—the more I write this the harder it becomes to back out without completely losing face and looking like an asshole). I enjoyed them all but in particular the sessions on Robert E. Howard in 1932, the 40-year remembrance of Conan the Barbarian by Paul Sammon, and the Glenn Lord Symposium papers. I was tickled to hear my name mentioned in two of the sessions, in particular the citation of Flame and Crimson by an academic presenting a paper in the Glenn Lord Symposium, on Charles Hoffman's "Conan the Existential." It’s still hard to believe I won a Venarium award, as I don’t consider myself a particularly deep or notable scholar of Robert E. Howard. Just a hardcore fan who happens to write a lot about his works and their obvious overlap with sword-and-sorcery.

So I’m Writing a Novel has a great episode out, part 1 of a 2-part interview with second age sword-and-sorcery author David C. Smith of Oron and Red Sonja fame. Some great nuggets in here about Smith’s origin story as an author, the importance of fanzines in cultivating and encouraging writers in the 1970s, and the general S&S publishing scene of the mid-late 70s. Plus some info on the rumored but unpublished (and apparently never written, or at least never finished) Karl Edward Wagner Bran Mak Morn novel Queen of the Night.

While I was away I managed to read the second Death Dealer novel by James Silke, Lords of Destruction. This was… not very good. Some chapters/pieces were fun, even laugh out loud, so it delivered some entertainment value, but it reads like an unintentional parody of S&S. It’s representative of the late stage, bloated barbarian S&S that played a role in the genre’s downfall in the early 1980s. I’ll get a review up soon.

A lucky man this Father's Day

The Murphy Clan.

These tasted as good as they look.

My old man is 78 years old and not in the best of health, but today he was doing OK and so I got to spend a few hours with him on Father's Day.

We drank a couple beers in the driveway and ate some pretty good ribs I spent the day smoking. It was overcast and cool, perfect weather to sit outside and shoot the shit.

One story I don't believe I ever relayed here: When I was a boy my dad read to my brother and I Jack London's "The Call of the Wild." We were very young, I was no more than 7 or 8. It's probably unheard of these days to read something that old and raw and primitive and violent to children, but I loved every page of it, and am quite certain it fueled my love of the fantastic. 

The t-shirt I'm wearing in this picture above was purchased in Ireland in 2007, during a trip I got to take with my old man. Ireland has a Murphy's Pub? Who knew. 

Thanks for everything Dad. Happy Father's Day dude. Love you.

S&S updates: Scaling the walls of Venarium, and assorted essays

A couple updates from my corner of S&S fandom.

I’m psyched/pumped/jacked to announce that I was honored with the Venarium award from the Robert E. Howard Foundation, at the recent Robert E. Howard Days in Cross Plains, TX.

The Venarium is given to an emerging scholar in Robert E. Howard studies. Per the foundation, candidates must have recently begun making significant contributions to Howard scholarship through publications and/or presentations over the past few years.

I’ve been at this stuff since 2007, but really in two distinct phases. As you will see from the absence of posts from 2013-2019, I took a long “break” from blogging, writing essays, etc. to work on Flame and Crimson, and I believe the publication of the book, coupled with my recent re-investment in the blog, writing REH related material for The Dark Man, The Journal of American Culture, DMR/Goodman Games, etc., rendered me eligible. In a rare tie I shared the award with Willard M. Oliver. Congrats Will!

I’m honored, and doubly disappointed I could not be at Cross Plains to receive the award in person. I’ve already told my wife that I’m absolutely going next year, unless Russia decides to invade, or North America sinks Atlantis-like under the waves of the rising oceans. The theme next year I believe is the Weird Tales centennial (first issue 1923), which could make for some excellent panel sessions.

Congratulations to all the winners. I was particularly happy to see Jason M. Waltz win the Valusian award for his work as editor of Robert E. Howard Changed My Life, which I reviewed here on the blog, and Jason Ray Carney win the Costigan for his efforts editing Whetstone: Amateur Magazine of Pulp Sword and Sorcery. Both very worthy.

And a sincere thank you to the Robert E. Howard Foundation for hosting the awards and honoring the work of those who keep REH’s name alive.

In other news…

This week I have two essays scheduled for publication, for the two websites I presently write for.

Tomorrow I expect to see a review of Schuyler Hernstrom’s Thune’s Vision up on DMR Books. Spoiler alert: Loved it.

Friday I expect to see “Lin Carter: Enthusiast of the Fantastic” up on the site of Goodman Games/Tales from the Magician’s Skull. Carter was born this month in 1930 and passed away in 1988. My stance on him, while never close to negative, was perhaps ambivalent. It’s softened in recent years. I summarize his contributions as enthusiastic and influential editor and general spectator on the S&S scene in the 60s through the 80s, concluding that we need more Lin Carters these days.

I’ll link to both of those here when they appear.

(Other) stuff that got me into S&S: Rogues in the House leftovers

The RitH Army wants you!

Last night I guested on Rogues in the House, one of a handful of podcasts dedicated to all things sword-and-sorcery—or at least sword-and-sorcery adjacent. * The episode was on our origin stories, the events/media/incidents that set us down the path of sword-and-sorcery fandom and general lifelong nerdity.

This was my third guest appearance with the Rogues and as before, I had a blast. Co-hosts Matt John and Deane Geiken are great dudes, very easy to work with, and always run a good program. The show is up and you can listen here.

Even though we ran an hour and 38 minutes it was not enough time to cover all of the many childhood and adolescent influences that fueled my love of S&S. So, what follows is a more comprehensive list. I’m quite sure I’m missing a few, either forgotten to time or buried deep in my subconscious, driving urges I can no longer articulate. But this must suffice, for now.

These are the notes I was working off for the show so I’m leaving them as notes.

Toys including plastic medieval knights, little green army men, etc. Later Star Wars toys, D&D action figures, etc.

Saturday morning and after school cartoons particularly Thundarr the Barbarian and The Herculoids. Also Transformers, GI Joe, and of all things, the Gummi Bears (this became a running joke on the show).

Kids/adolescent books including The Hobbit, Fire-Hunter by Jim Kjelgaard, Sir Walter Scott's Ivanhoe, Monsters by Crestwood House, Monster Tales: Vampires, Werewolves and Things. The Chronicles of Prydain/Lloyd Alexander, Dragonlance, Susan Cooper’s Over Sea and Under Stone, the Narnia books, illustrated Crusades stories, etc. In hindsight I can see how I was being inevitably steered toward sword-and-sorcery by consuming its various components; historical elements, grit and danger, monsters, tough and resourceful heroes, horror, and the weird.

Land of the Lost TV show.

Comics: Savage Sword of Conan, and other direct S&S titles (color CtB, Arak Son of Thunder, occasional issue of Heavy Metal). Also John Carter of Mars, Weird War, and Tarzan.

The comics led me to the Conan Saga Lancer paperbacks with their Frazetta covers.

Time Life Enchanted World series.

Adolescent films including Rankin-Bass Hobbit, Clash of the Titans, Dragonslayer, Krull, The Dark Crystal. Even something like Goonies, for the spirit of adventure and treasure-seeking it evoked in me.

These films inevitably led to more adult movies: Conan the Barbarian (1982), Heavy Metal animated, Excalibur, LadyHawke, The Terminator, Blade Runner.

Tabletop gaming: Tom Moldvay basic D&D (D&D in general, but this edition specifically). White Dwarf magazine, which had fiction, entertaining articles, and great artwork. Artwork in general was to be prized, prior to the internet. It sparked ideas for gaming, and my imagination in general. I later migrated to other RPGs including Runequest, Top Secret, Star Frontiers, etc. And Wargaming (Wooden Ships and Iron Men, Axis and Allies, etc.)

Computer games: Atari, which led to the early CRPGs (Bard’s Tale, Wizardry, Wizard’s Crown)

Heavy metal and its associated imagery (Iron Maiden, Manowar, Judas Priest)

Halloween—I dressed up as a viking one year, a knight another. My favorite holiday, still is.

Stephen King, including the likes of The Stand, Cycle of the Werewolf, the Long Walk, Salem’s Lot, Eyes of the Dragon, etc.

* I also recommend the likes of The Appendix N Podcast, So I'm Writing a Novel, The Cromcast, and the Dark Crusade for their coverage of sword-and-sorcery material.

Seven weeks off Facebook, a few observations

Fuck I don’t miss that noise.

If you want to get more done—write more, read more, have more meaningful relationships, enjoy a better focus and healthier mindset—get off the platform.

I am posting far more here on The Silver Key, because I have suddenly found more hours in the day.

I am reading more books, with more attention.

I am calling and talking to friends more often.

I am writing up a storm on LinkedIn, actual thoughtful business content.

I don’t need to read other people’s hot takes on gun control/no gun control, abortion/not abortion, Trump/never Trump. As if what you write on these topics will ever change anyone’s mind. They won’t. Better off pissing into a headwind; at least you only piss on yourself.

There is room for all these conversations. They should be had. But not everyone needs to have an opinion on every issue. 

Most people haven’t figured this out, so I’ll say it again: You don’t need to have an opinion on everything. You can remain silent, and think, and admit you don’t know, rather than spew shit on Facebook, and demonstrate your ignorance to the world.

If you believe in a cause, great! Act. Get involved. Do something beyond hot takes on social media, that vanish into the ether. And then follow the media's lead and move on to the next "outrage." Remember all the outrage about masking/not masking? 

I don’t want to sound smug about my decision (that’s how I viewed people who made these breaks, outwardly and loudly, in the past. Which is why I just deleted my account without fanfare). But I’m glad I made it, unequivocally. And I think you should at least consider the same, a short break even, see what happens.

Time is our only non-renewable resource, and social media platforms ravenously eat your time, which you’ll never get back. Engaging in nonsense, blood-pressure raising discussions is one way Facebook eats your life. But passive scrolling, and “likes,” which is what Facebook/Instagram/TikTok, etc. encourages, eats up your time in an insidious fashion, far more than you know. 

Companies are monetizing you, selling your data. If you’re not paying for something, odds are you’re the product, not the customer.

I may still get back on, someday, but if it happens it will be for a targeted, specific reason. 

For now, for anyone wondering, seven weeks later I’m still off. And have confirmed, you don’t need that shit.