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.

Neither Beg Nor Yield, and other S&S developments

Keith Taylor was one of the most talented authors to come out of the “second wave” of sword-and-sorcery in the mid-late 70s. Upon a re-read of his wonderful novel Bard I was inspired to get a hold of Keith for a two-part Q&A for DMR Books.

You can read part one here and part two here, which cover his literary inspirations, early writing career and breaking into Fantastic Stories, then Swords Against Darkness, and eventually landing a book deal at Ace. And much more. 

Keith is not only still writing, but is due to appear in a new anthology I’m excited about—Rogue Blade Entertainment’s Neither Beg Nor Yield.

The past couple months have seen the announcement and/or publication of several new S&S anthologies. I recently purchased DMR Books’ Die by the Sword, which is getting some good press and has made it to the top of my TBR. The dudes over at Rogues in the House published a Book of Blades which I bought and enjoyed, and are planning a Book of Blades vol. 2. And I recently backed Swords in the Shadows, which leans hard into S&S’s horror roots. This last one should be shipping soon.

I’m awash in contemporary S&S but there’s always room for more.

Neither Beg Nor Yield is going all-in on attitude. With Judas Priest’s Hard as Iron on the landing page and the explicit inspiration for the anthology’s title you kind of know what you’re in for. 

Can we pause for a minute and remind ourselves that Conan kicks ass, and that’s why we love him? That he never begs nor asks for quarter, and doesn’t stop until he claims the crown? There is a spirit to (some/most) S&S that speaks to the unconquerable spirit in us.

Editor Jason Waltz is seeking to capture that attitude with his latest and evidently last anthology, his publishing swan song. He previously published the anthologies Return of the Sword (2008), an important early title in the S&S revival, Rage of the Behemoth (2019), and others. Waltz later under the non-profit imprint Rogue Blades Foundation published the likes of REH Changed My Life and most recently Hither Came Conan (in which I have an essay).

That’s a solid 15 year run but it ends with Neither Beg Nor Yield.

Jason tells me that he drew inspiration for the title while writing the foreword to Lyn Perry's recent Swords & Heroes, in which he cuts through all of the various bandying definitions of S&S (including my own) and boils it down to the powerful heroic spirit, the “indomitable will to survive.”

Awesome.

There will be a total of 17 stories in the collection, and possibly an 18th if a stretch goal is reached. We know at least one is from Keith Taylor, we’ll see who else lands a credit.

Sign up here to be notified when the kickstarter launches.

Cormac McCarthy, 1933-2023

I want to be with you.
You cant.
Please.
You cant. You have to carry the fire.
I dont know how to. Yes you do.
Is it real? The fire?
Yes it is.
Where is it? I dont know where it is.
Yes you do. It’s inside you. It was always there.
I can see it.

--Cormac McCarthy, The Road

RIP. He carried the fire.

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. 

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.

You Must Change Your Life

Do yourself a favor and listen to this episode of Weird Studies with hosts Phil Ford and J.F. Martel.

I don’t know what it was about precisely, except that it instilled a feeling in me that magic and the weird, and awe, might still exist in the world. If we are patient and quiet and persist long enough.

The episode is ostensibly about a deep reading of a poem I had never heard of before, “Archaic Torso of Apollo” by Rainer Maria Rilke. But you don’t have to have read it: They do it for you on the episode, and then talk about it. 

The poem is both a convincing case that inanimate art has a spirit of its own, and the call to the heroic is in all of us. The poem concludes with the line, “For Here There is No Place That Does Not See You: You Must Change Your Life.” A command from a stone from antiquity, the muscled torso of Apollo, that arouses you from your torpor and elicits action. Very sword-and-sorcery you might say. 

There are digressions on barbarism and He-Man and Skeletor, and references to RUSH and D&D. In and amongst philosophy and whether it is possible to derive an ought from an is. 

It touched many chords in me. 

The hosts are well-spoken and erudite but also fun and spontaneous. Just an amazing listen, even if I didn’t grasp everything they said after once through it.

If Heaven is Hell, Tokyo Blade

I was too young to appreciate the New Wave of British Heavy Metal (aka., NWOBHM, love that fucking acronym) back when it washed up on American shores, circa 1975-83 or thereabouts. 

The good part about this unfortunate time mismatch is that now I can explore its various bands. Though most have long since disbanded or faded into obscurity, they are new to me, and therefore as fresh and vital as they may have been whilst playing some dingy U.K. pub circa 1978. And yes I just said "whilst." I'm putting on my English cloak for this one.

The best band to come out of the NWOBHM movement, Iron Maiden, has passed into Godhood, but most of its acts sank into obscurity. This Metal Friday features a good one from one of the semi-lost, Tokyo Blade. Obscure but apparently they had a long career, go figure.

I won't claim "If Heaven is Hell" (1983) is the best song ever, but it's pretty darned good, possessed of that rough, unpolished, energetic, guitar-forward sound that I love from this era and region of the world. The U.K. birthed heavy metal from the foundries of Birmingham and they still do it the best, IMO.

Glen Lord Symposium panel video up on YouTube

As noted in my recent writeup of 2023 Robert E. Howard Days, I was asked to present a paper at the Glen Lord Symposium. This is an academic panel and regular part of the event programming led by Jason Ray Carney, editor of Whetstone and a senior lecturer at Christoper Newport University.

The panel is now available on YouTube. You can view it here. 

The title of my paper is “Far Countries of the Mind: The Frontier Fantasy of Robert E. Howard." I had fun writing it and reading it aloud, if a little intimidating. 

Love Jason's comment that I deserve an honorary PhD in sword-and-sorcery :). I'll take it.

Enjoy!

Edge of Thorns, Savatage

Metal Friday is a day late this week but I'm just getting back from a business trip to Chicago that has me all sorts of out of sorts. 12 straight days of work that is now over.

Admittedly I am not the biggest Savatage fan but "Edge of Thorns" checks every damned box I love about heavy metal. Great vocals. Tough, poetic lyrics. An incredibly powerful build up to a breakdown at 2:55, followed by an absolutely divine guitar solo by the late Criss Oliva.

Odd video, but hey, early 90s and all that.

Balanced your dreams upon the edge of thorns

But I don't think about you anymore

"All truth is relative" is not true

“All truth is relative.”

This comment was posted on a message board I frequent, in a conversation in which I was a part, and the person who wrote it apparently expected it to go unchallenged—as if lobbing a hand grenade into a room might go unchallenged. 

I disagree with this statement and here explain why in detail, which I could not do there.

Truth is relative in many circumstances. Two longtime spouses quarreling over who should clean the garage is a hard situation to untangle, and the truthful answer to the question: Who should clean it? very relative. Perhaps the man agreed at one point to handle all outdoor work, the wife indoor, and the garage is some liminal space that could be either. Perhaps the wife is (understandably) angry with the man because she has done all the cleaning and he has not held up his end of the social contract.

The world is full of countless, similar examples where both sides seem right, or at least share a version of the truth that point to a conclusion that all truth is relative. These range from small and domestic to the largest scale, i.e., wars between great powers.

However, there comes a point where truth is no longer relative. And when disagreement on what is true is dangerous, even hideous, and cannot go unchallenged. Particularly when applied to morality, which I believe at certain levels passes into an objective truth. At least, objective enough that we must all embrace it.

For example, take the following statement: Dashing an infant’s head against a wall is bad.

Is this only relatively true, based on the circumstances? Is bashing an infant to death permissible, even good, in some circumstances?

Or, It’s acceptable not to rescue a someone drowning in a pool. Is it OK to watch someone drown if the suit you're wearing is of sufficient high quality? When you’re perfectly capable, because you don’t want to get your nice clothes wet?

Of course, we can get absurd here on some theoretical, abstract plane that will never occur in real life (“what if you knew the baby would grow up to be Hitler?”) (“what if you thought your suit would weigh you down and you might drown?”) etc.? You might as well just say, “well I think we’re all living in a simulation and so nothing is real, and nothing matters!”

The fact is, we cannot know these things, and everyone with a healthy mind should recoil from these assertions. And that truth is truth.

On a philosophical/logical level, the statement “all truth is relative” is untenable, because it would mean truth can never be known—which is a statement of absolute truth. It's not a coherent statement, but a self-contradiction.

If you argue that "all truth is relative" because truth can only be understood through the subjective lens of an individual, that has a kernel of truth... but if everyone else sees the facts differently you are very likely, objectively wrong, and have misapprehended the truth. Which exists independent of you.

But the more important Truth of the matter is, having a coherent and broad set of rules about ethics and social mores that values human life is entirely necessary for a functioning culture. For example, if we can’t say, “hard work and discipline is a virtue,” but equally value sloth, then things will fall apart, very quickly. And life will become a hellscape. And I think even the postmodernists would agree that an ordered life is better than anarchy and apocalyptic disintegration.

“Truth is relative” allows you to absolve yourself of adult responsibilities. It might make you popular at parties of high culture. But it doesn’t do well when it meets reality. 

We need responsible people to avoid the descent into barbarism. Which, despite my love of sword-and-sorcery, is not an outcome I find acceptable.

Objective mortality exists, regardless of culture or upbringing, faith, creed, or race. 

If you lack the capacity to understand this, a few things are at play that are worth looking into. 

• You may be mentally deficient, in which case you are worthy of sympathy and social support.
• You are weary of life and in a bad place, as I have been at points in my life. You have my sympathy; keep fighting and one day you will emerge from this malaise.
• You might be a postmodernist thinker, and simply enjoy arguing in the abstract. In which case, I will simply disagree and take my ball somewhere else.

However, if you refuse to recognize and differentiate good behavior from bad, and actively seek to tear down the social fabrics that allow us to enjoy some measure of order and security, I’m quite comfortable calling you a psychopath. If you desire to burn down the courts and our system of law and order, please read Grendel and start over at Go. Do not collect $200. You have embraced the Dragon, have arrived at the point where naked Power is the only arbiter of truth, hoarded gold the only value, and revealed yourself as the monster. 

The good news is, there is always a path back to the truth for those willing to seek it. This too, is true.

RIP to Canada's finest singer-songwriter, Gordon Lightfoot

Gordon Lightfoot is probably—nay, definitely—not metal. Not even metal-adjacent. 

Yet he is the subject of this Metal Friday. For obvious reasons.

I mourn the passing of this great man. He had a hell of a career and a hell of a life. 84 years is a pretty good run. 

But it was still tough news to hear that he passed on Monday.

I listen to Gordon Lightfoot on vinyl every summer up our family’s lakehouse. His music takes me straight to our pontoon boat, circling the lake in the early evening with a cocktail. Not quite so hazardous as Lake Superior when the gales of November come early.

Lately I had found myself listening to Gordon more often. Perhaps because I’m getting a little more mellow as I age. Metal is still my go-to but his stuff is timeless, beautiful.

Last year I got to see Gordon with my old man and brother and am so glad I did. Tomorrow isn't guaranteed.

I’m not going to waste any words explaining why Gordon Lightfoot is great, and worth listening to. He’s been extolled by Bob Dylan, Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson, Billy Joel, countless other iconic musicians. He's probably the greatest Canadian musician ever, this coming from a raging RUSH fan. Hell, if Geddy Lee says it, good enough for me.

If you want more of that here’s a tribute from one of my favorite YouTubers, Rick Beato, who gives him a proper sendoff.

I’ll just say: He’s way better than you think. Every song on Gord’s Gold is gold. He has more good songs on one album side than most artists will record in a lifetime.

Instead I’ll just offer a song.

I was thinking of going with “Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” or “If You Could Read My Mind” or “Sundown” as evidence (all awesome, and deservedly remembered) but here’s “Early Morning Rain.” 

 

Going Rogue(s) with another 2023 Howard Days recap

This week I was invited to join the wonderful sword-and-sorcery podcast Rogues in the House to continue the discussion about Robert E. Howard Days 2023. You can listen to the episode here.

Joining me were Jason Waltz (publisher, Rogue Blades Entertainment) and Jason Ray Carney (publisher, Whetstone) a pair of fellow attendees whom I met for the first time last week in Cross Plains.

The show as always was a blast. Give it a listen, if for no other reason than to hear host Matt John deliver "Cimmeria" in his dead-on Arnold imitation. This had me in stitches. Dude should take this act on the road.

In addition to Howard Days recaps we also talked about the ongoing sword-and-sorcery revival. Jason Waltz and I served on the S&S panel organized by Deuce Richardson at 2023 Howard Days, while Jason Ray Carney was one of our avid front-row listeners. We get into some of the same territory here on the podcast, covering recent S&S history as well as current venues, authors, and trends. Good stuff.

My Howard Days 2023 haul

Somewhere under here is a bar...

Many amusing escapades and scrapes unfolded during Howard Days 2023, not the least of which was my complete and utter lack of restraint around anything vaguely book shaped. I was like a Grateful Dead fan in a pot shop or a PETA member in a rescue shelter, unhinged and helpless, grasping and wanting everything at once.

Someone should have taken my wallet from me.

I came home with 20 “books.” In my defense 9 of these were free, 11 were purchases. But the count is actually higher.

Two of those “books” were bundles of Fantastic magazine won in the silent auction, basically the entire run of issues published in 1961 and 1962. So that is technically an additional 23 digest sized "books" (May 1963 is missing). I also purchased a calendar. So technically I came home with 41 separate items, loosely classified as books. 

And a Robert E. Howard Museum t-shirt. With Conan on it, of course. Not pictured.

I think I need help.

Worse, I packed lightly with just a carry-on suitcase and a separate carry-on leather bag. The latter is something resembling a leather briefcase, with some extra pouches on the side. I was warned to bring an oversized suitcase for the spoils and promptly ignored those warnings. 

Come Sunday I found myself in deep shit. After carefully packing up all my books first (of course! they're the most important items) I was nearly full and hadn’t touched my clothes yet. That left me shoving items for which no room remained into every conceivable pocket. I wound up stuffing dirty underwear into my computer bag to make room. 

Not proud of this, just stating the facts.

Anyway, somehow I made it home with a 60 pound carry on that was a beast to lug, even with wheels, and threatened to burst its zippers. I'm a pretty strong dude but I felt like Vasily Alexseyev on a max clean and jerk getting that thing into the overhead bin.

Following is a complete list of my gross take:

• The Collected Poetry of Robert E. Howard, vol. 1
• The Collected Letters of Robert E. Howard, vol. 3
• Thick as Thieves, Ken Lizzi
• Cross Plains Pilgrimage, Bobby Derie
• The Robert E. Howard Trivia Book, Bobby Derie
• Hither Came Conan, Jason Waltz (editor)
• Scott Oden Presents The Lost Empire of Sol, Rogue Blades Foundation
• Death Dealer 3, Tooth and Claw, James Silke
• Chacal #2
• The Dark Man Journal vol. 13.1
• Stan Lee Presents Conan the Barbarian #1 (paperback collection of first 3 comics)
• The Filming of Conan, Cinefantastique Special Double Issue
• Skelos #4
• REHUPA Oct. 2012 (no. 237)
• From the Heart of Darkness, David Drake
• 2018 Investigations of the Robert E. Howard House Cellar, Jeff Shanks et. al
• Kagen the Damned, Jonathan Maberry
• Ken Kelly’s Robert E. Howard Heroic Fantasy Calendar, 1979
• Fantastic 1961 bundle
• Fantastic 1962 bundle

Good thing my wife doesn’t read the blog.

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.

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.

Judas Priest, "Traitors Gate"

Close your eyes, listen to the dude signing this song. Try to reconcile what you're hearing with a man (then) in his late 60s. 

Impressive. Aging warriors still fighting the world with metal.

Firepower (2018) is Judas Priest's 18th studio album. If it were their last, it would be a hell of a swan song. I love this album, almost every song on it, and "Traitors Gate" is one of my favorites. It might be the best song on the album. The lyrics speak of an impending execution for a man convicted of treason, but believing he's in the right. Uncompromising, and very metal.

The river shows no mercy
The tower looms into my view
I sense my execution's closing
With darkness all around me
The axe is ground to end my days
The raven's cry proclaims repentance

Few bands carry on for more than 50 years; fewer still continue to produce good original work in the twilight of such a long career. Judas Priest is a notable exception, but then again they've always been exceptional.

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.

Are we in a new sword-and-sorcery renaissance? Not yet. At least commercially.

Some corners of the internet are speculating whether we’re in a third sword-and-sorcery wave. This assumes a first, unnamed wave in which S&S was invented (roughly 1929-36—thanks REH), and a second in which it rose to commercial prominence (roughly 1965-75).

Following a collapse in the early 1980s S&S lay moribund for decades, with a few authors soldiering on and a couple outlets toiling in corners of the internet. This was the general state of the genre until the last few years. 

Today there is a new interest in this old, weird, gritty, sword-slinging alternative to epic fantasy. A non-exhaustive, top of mind list of publications and publishers includes:

• Tales from the Magician’s Skull
• New Edge
• Whetstone
• Savage Realms
• DMR Books
• Swords and Sorceries
• Heroic Fantasy Quarterly
• Rogues in the House
• The Cromcast
• Old Moon Quarterly
• Baen
• Swords and Sorcery Magazine

Recently we’ve had a few successfully funded kickstarters: New Edge magazine, which landed Michael Moorcock for issue no. 1, and now Swords in the Shadows, which features authors like Joe Lansdale, Stephen Graham Jones, and Brian Keene.

Conan is the closest thing we have to a sure thing in S&S and new Conan material is out. Titan Books published a new Conan novel, Blood of the Serpent, with more titles to come. Rogue Blades Foundation has just published Hither Came Conan.

In short, there is quite a bit of contemporary S&S to sink your teeth into, sample, and enjoy. At all levels, from amateur and free, to traditionally published mass-market paperbacks and hardcovers.

But what is actually going on, commercially?

Despite all this output, much of which I have backed and all of which I am grateful for, we are nowhere near a commercial renaissance. While great enthusiasm exists in many quarters, and some good authors and artists serve this space, the simple fact remains: there isn’t enough readers. 

Publishing is a winner-take-all enterprise, existing on what marketing guru Seth Godin and others have described as the long tail theory. One on side, a few huge winners, making millions due to their mass appeal. Think Stephen King, GRRM, J.K. Rowling, Brandon Sanderson. As the tail stretches rightward, we find more writers able to make a living writing, some comfortably, but not as many as you’d think. And then a LONG tail of authors selling hundreds or perhaps tens of copies of books, laboring in obscurity. The same theory applies to publishers. 

This is not necessarily a bad thing, as the long tail is also to serve the needs of niche consumers with obscure interests in a manner that The Big Five (now four) cannot.

The problem is that S&S is way out on the end of that tail, a highly specialized subgenre that appeals to a small subset of readers. How small?

I feel like there could be as few as 1000 hard core S&S fans keeping this enterprise afloat. Some evidence to support that claim:

• Swords in the Shadows: About 600 backers (as of April 11), pledged $16,400 to launch the project.
• Tales from the Magician’s Skull: 640 backers pledged $68,975 to help bring this project to life.
• New Edge: 479 backers pledged CA$ 22,846 to help bring this project to life.
• Whetstone: 755 followers on Facebook
• Contemporary S&S: 743 followers on Facebook
• The Cromcast: 1,000 followers on Facebook
• Rogues in the House: 1.3K followers on Facebook

Pulp Sword and Sorcery is an outlier with 5,200 members on Facebook. But are they just nostalgia-seekers? Nothing wrong with nostalgia, I dwell in it daily. But the numbers don’t support more than 5,000 buying new product.

DMR Books has 2,800 followers and is a publisher that offers its readers old and new material. Perhaps this is our most accurate number.

Admittedly I’m an old fart with so many blind spots I should have my license revoked. I’m not on Instagram and I don’t have much of a handle on Twitter. There are comics to consider, and S&S inspired video games. Both of these have fanbases that might be tapped for the prose fiction S&S I’m speaking about here.

But I’m skeptical, and based on my limited data set these are not big numbers.

A lot closer to home, as of Feb. 1 of this year, Flame and Crimson sold 842 copies. Frankly, better than I had hoped when Pulp Hero Press published the book in Jan. 2020. But, if you add up what I made, and divide by hours worked, its pennies on the hour. 

It is still much too early to say anything definitive. Baen has just published a new book by Larry Correia, Son of the Black Sword, which could be a hit. I have read and enjoyed Correia’s Monster Hunter International. Later this year we’ll see two Hanuvar books by Howard Andrew Jones, whose stuff I enjoy, also from Baen. 

We need just one series to catch a little fire, garner some good press, and attract new blood to this thing we enjoy. That might be enough to build some momentum and lift additional boats.

S&S is undoubtedly going through a spiritual renaissance. People are talking about it again, enjoying the old stuff, and celebrating the new. Exploring what it’s all about, the aesthetic itch it scratches. I will be participating in an informal S&S panel at Howard Days and will do my small part to keep spreading the word. I've read a few really good stories by the likes of Schuyler Hernstrom, John Fultz, and others. This is all a good thing, regardless of whether we see commercial sales the likes the Lancer Conan Saga enjoyed.

But if S&S is ever going to approach what we saw circa 1962-82, we need the type of commercial successes that allow talented writers and artists to do their best work. We’re not there yet and the jury remains out if we will. 

Caught in the Middle, Ronnie James Dio

Metal Friday this week, we're going with an upbeat rocker from the late, great Ronnie James Dio. 

"Caught in the Middle" is not the first song most think of on Holy Diver, and of course it's not the iconic title track, but it's a fun, energetic, guitar forward tune I greatly enjoy. A great pairing with a cold beer and the start of the weekend.

Oh yeah, and that band you like, with that lead singer you dig? Dio is a better singer than that guy. Will put Dio up against anyone, anywhere, anytime.

The Goshawk, T.H. White

Enraptured by a raptor...

The author of a blog I follow mentioned in an off-hand way the life-affirming power in this obscure title by T.H. White. Prior to that I had never heard of The Goshawk (1951). But I love The Once and Future King, so with nothing more to go on than this sleight recommendation I purchased and read it over the last few days.

And found it to be a wonderful little book.

In the summer of 1936 White holed himself up in an old workman’s cottage in the woods, miles from civilization, with only a pet dog, a wireless radio, and some booze for company. And set to work training a goshawk (a male hawk) based on the methods of three archaic books on the subject, including one volume originally printed in 1619. These books explained that a hawk could not be forced to submit to training and the will of the falconer, you had to win its love through patience and persistence and closeness. Part of this process of acclimation included staying up for three straight days/nights (!) with the bird, so that it would perch on its master out of sheer exhaustion. Man and bird becoming one. Something akin to love.

White actually did this, and it’s all described wonderfully in The Goshawk, as only White can. His descriptions of the bird and its unpredictable moods and odd quirks are lovely. It's a snapshot into a world that feels almost alien, so far removed from 21st century life.

I knew essentially nothing of falconry and left with an understanding of how it might have been practiced by medieval falconers. Which is about as practical as learning how to master hoop rolling or leaded window installation.

What’s the point, and why read something like this? Fair question.

To which I would answer: Because there are difficult crafts worth pursuing for their own sake. That we might pour two months or more of training to tame a wild raptor to see if it can be done, and to have had that experience and sense of accomplishment. And might learn something about nature, human and animal, if we carefully observe the process.

The Goshawk is mainly focused on the training of the bird but does have a few wonderful asides and commentary. Little observations like this, of the end of the old ways of falconry:

It happened like this in the world. Old things lost their grip and dropped away; not always because they were bad things, but sometimes because the new things were more bad, and stronger.

Or this, on writing and more broadly on any craft practiced well, which touched something in me. It’s something I love about writing, that if done well can achieve a sort of small and unassuming immortality:

To write something which was of enduring beauty, this was the ambition of every writer: as it was the ambition of the joiner and architect and the constructor of any kind. It was not the beauty but the endurance, for endurance was beautiful. It was also all that we could do. It was a consolation, even a high and positive joy, to make something true: some table, which, sat on, would not splinter or shatter. It was not for the constructor that the beauty was made, but for the thing itself. He would triumph to know that some contribution had been made: some sort of consoling contribution quite timeless and without relation to his own profit. Sometimes we knew, half tipsy or listening to music, that at the heart of some world there lay a chord to which vibrating gave reality. With its reality there was music and truth and the permanence of good workmanship. To give birth to this, with whatever male travail, was not only all that man could do: it was also all that eclipsed humanity of either sex could do: it was the human contribution to the universe. Absolutely bludgeoned by jazz and mechanical achievement, the artist yearned to discover permanence, some life of happy permanence which he by fixing could create to the satisfaction of after-people who also looked. This was it, as the poets realized, to be a mother of immortal song: To say Yes when it was, and No when it was: to make enduringly true that perhaps quite small occasional table off which subsequent generations could eat, without breaking it down: to help the timeless benevolence which should be that of this lonely and little race: to join the affection which had lasted between William the Conqueror and George VI. Wheelwrights, smiths, farmers, carpenters, and mothers of large families knew this.

Observations like these are what make White worth reading.

Is this book The Once and Future King? No, it’s not. The Goshawk is far less awesome in breath and scope, and not as artful. But I can’t really describe it as lesser. Just less ambitious. It’s a little slice of White’s life, utterly charming, a bit of sanity disconnected from the modern world, in between two savage world wars.

Heroes behaving badly: The wondrous and bastardly creations of Jack Vance

S&S protagonists: Occasionally lovable scumbags.

Cugel the Clever probably isn’t a guy you want to invite to dinner.

You’d be guaranteed belly laughs and an unforgettable night’s entertainment … until later, when the check comes due. And you discover he made off with the priceless silverware set you inherited from your grandmother, and tried to make time with your wife.

Bastard!

Cugel is a loveable rogue, nicknamed “the Clever” for good reason; he consistently escapes harrowing scrapes and near-death through pluck and quick-thinking, which makes him and his adventures entertaining for the reader, even when he’s behaving badly. Which is quite often.

Read the rest on Tales from the Magician's Skull. My latest essay for Goodman Games. Had fun writing this one and revisiting a couple of Vance stories while doing so.

En Force, Queensryche

The Warning... feels a little more prescient every day.

We plead for the signs, give us a second chance

In hopes it will stifle the fear

The battered remains of world gone insane

We are near

Here's to a (metal) weekend.

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.

Contemporary sword-and-sorcery: 2023 reading updates

A "striking" cover (<=see what I did there?)

This year I am trying to add more contemporary sword-and-sorcery into my reading. To date I’ve read four S&S titles, including:

• Blood of the Serpent, S.M. Stirling
• Sometime Lofty Towers, David C. Smith
• New Edge #0
• A Book of Blades

You can read my reviews of the first two books here and here.

Short stories collections are hard to review; inevitably there will be stories I like more, others less. That is true of New Edge #0 and A Book of Blades. But having finished the latter last night, I can say there were more hits than misses. Favorites included John C. Hocking’s “By the Sword,” Howard Andrew Jones’ “The Serpent’s Heart,” and John R. Fultz’s “The Blood of Old Shard.” The last story in particular is terrific, probably worthy of some type of end of year award consideration.

This is not to slight any of the others, I liked most of what I read in here. A whole bunch of fun, blood-pumping stories of adventure and the weird.

Coupled with some awesome art, both on the cover and then in an expected gallery at the back, I greatly enjoyed A Book of Blades.

Considering I’m in New Edge #0 with an essay, and am also slated to appear in issue no. 1, reviewing it seems a bit self-serving. But, I enjoyed the rest of the contents of issue #0. The standout story for me was David C. Smith’s “Old Moon Over Irukad.” T.K. Rex’s “The Beast of the Shadow Gum Trees” while not traditional sword-and-sorcery was well-done, and pushes the borders of what S&S is, which fits with the new magazine’s mission. I also very much enjoyed a pair of essays, one by Cora Buhlert on C.L. Moore, the other by Nicole Emmelhainz on Howard’s “Sword Woman.” Will be very interested to see what issues 1-2 will bring, as both met fundraising goals on editor Oliver Brackenbury’s recent kickstarter.

Next I’m hoping to wade into a couple recent titles from DMR Books.

Why (Human Generated) Sword-and-Sorcery?

Fuck you asshole... I'm here to write your sword-and-sorcery

Wherein I rage against the machine. Check it out here, on the blog of DMR Books. Then let me know what you think.

I am probably making a bigger deal out of this than the technology currently warrants, but GPT is only going to get better, and no one has answered the question of what we're to do when the machines can do everything better than we can.

One thing we could do is keep art off-limits.

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. 

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.”

Iron Maiden, "Stranger in a Strange Land"

Iron Maiden is perhaps my favorite metal band of all time.

"Stranger in a Strange Land" is perhaps my favorite Iron Maiden song.

Which should make "Stranger" ... my favorite song of all time?

No, not ready to say that. That's not a clean equation. But it is an absolute gem, 10/10 on the metal richter scale.

I love everything about this song. Steve Harris' melodic bass intro. The atmospheric build up. Bruce's off-the-charts vocals. And then,  Adrian's guitar solo. IMO his best. It's divine, I'll leave it at that. See 3:18. And damn, the counterpoint bass. It takes you to another planet, as does the entire album. Because it is Somewhere in Time.

I'll admit my analysis of this tune lacks any objectivity. I burned through TWO Somewhere in Time tapes in high school, listening to them so many times in my boom box and my car stereo that they simply wore out, the reels squeaking so much I had to discard them.

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.