Beach Pulp

It is 8:30 in the morning and I'm sitting in a beautiful sitting room and writing on my laptop. It is lightly snowing outside, blanketing the ground and making everything feel like Christmas. I haven't had a really white Christmas in several years, so getting to just enjoy the beauty of the landscape is incredible. The reason I'm sitting here writing is because for Christmas this year I got my wife a sloth interaction at the Animal Adventure Park in Harpursville, NY. When I told my mother about it, she immediately insisted on getting us a night stay at a bed and breakfast for the night prior. Now, neither my wife nor I have ever stayed at a a B&B before, so we had no idea what to expect. I actually pulled past the entrance on my first attempt to follow the GPS here. We glanced at each other, unsure of whether we were at the right place. I agreed to run up to the front door and check. I found that we were, that I had missed the actual driveway and come up their personal driveway, got the car parked and we got in and settled in short order. My biggest worry right now is that both my wife and I are spoiled forever on B&Bs. The house is an old farm house, and wonderfully appointed. The stairs are old and solid. The rooms are lavish. And the owners have mountains of cookies available for when my willpower fails me. The rooms in the house are all named after characters from Clue, and ours is Miss Scarlett. A four poster bed dominates the space, with a chaise lounge and pull out spare bed. A large antique trunk sits at the foot of the bed, reminding us both of the one that my wife's grandfather gave her which sits in the same place back at our house. But, to get back to the topic of this post. Though this has only been for a single night, it has been a prolific writing experience. Last night my wife and I sat on the side porch and I was able to write almost 500 words in less than an hour. That may seem like a small number, but for a writer who usually agonizes over every letter, I was moving at light speed. The story, which I am working on for inclusion in the upcoming Oddity Prodigy debut anthology Oh Snap! It's Oddity Prodigy! was giving me a bit of trouble. Once I settled into the seat though, the words just began to flow. I always thought that the idea of a writer's retreat, while novel, would never really work for me. I usually have a difficult time writing in my ideal setting of my desk in the studio. I am pleasantly surprised to admit that, despite my hesitance, this has been an amazing experience. I am confident that I will be returning the Bainbridge House in the near future for an extended stay. After all, 2019 is fast approaching, and I have quite a few stories to tell.

 The picture above is of a section of my bookcase. The books shown there were mostly hidden behind me in my author photo on Amazon. The only difference now is that the book on the far right is the anthology that holds my first publication. The book it sits next to has seen better days. It is a very well loved copy of The Sword of Shannara by Terry Brooks. I've read it so many times that I have 4 copies of it. This one NEVER gets opened anymore. It's not that it's fragile, which it is. It's not that it's falling apart, which it is. I never open that book because it is the single most important book in my library. It's the book that made me want to become an author.  Now, when I say that, I mean it literally. That exact copy, which may or may not have been accidentally taken from a library, is what made me want to start writing. I've always been a huge fan of Terry Brooks, with his world of Shannara always being my favorite of his creations. I've had this copy for longer than I can remember, and it is very special to me. When I was young, I hid in the worlds of fantasy and science fiction. I'm told we moved around a lot, so I imagine words were easier to stay friends with than people. Even now, when I read about Shea Ohmsford and his brother Flick, I empathize. For someone thrust into a new school every few years, it must have felt like I knew something of what they were going through. The Hadeshorn, The Vale, having to venture into new dangers and under constant attack from shapeless enemies. Then just when you think you have your footing you're thrown into a new challenge. The stakes always seemed to get higher. Facing down the evil Warlock Lord, shrouded in shadows and unknowable, was how I must have felt being the new kid yet again.  Now, I know this sounds melodramatic, and it is. But I always had the world of Shannara. Allanon the druid was the father figure I always wanted, but never had. He wielded terrifying powers and kept secrets, but also everything he did was for the good of the Four Lands. He expected so much from Shea, but hated having to ask it. I've talked for years about being an author, and it was always because I wanted to create a world that people could escape to. I wanted to be like Terry Brooks. Looking up at that bookcase I finally feel like, in some small way, I have become a little like Terry Brooks. I hope to keep publishing and creating, and perhaps one day someone will escape into a world of my own making, and a book that well loved and worn will sit on their shelf. I only hope that they can put a book of their own next to it, take a picture, and send it to me.

On October 14th, 2018 I headed up to Essington PA with Steve Myers, Jacob Jones Goldstein, and Marcella Harte. I had been up for several hours by the time Marcella (my wife), and I had gotten the car packed, and we headed over to pick up Jacob and Steve.  I was full of anxious energy as we pulled out of Steve's complex. I wasn't sure how the day was going to go, but I wasn't nervous. This convention marked an important first for me, and the waiting was agony.

    Now, this wasn't my first convention. Being a Star Trek and Anime fan for decades presumes a familiarity with conventions. I've walked the dealers' floors, purchased my share of merchandise. I've waited in insanely long lines for autographs that have special meaning for a subset of fans (Jeremy Bulloch comes to mind). But this time it was different.

    This wasn't the first convention that I was attending as a vendor. I spent a year traveling with Marcella as she sold her first children's book, The Mermaid in Rehoboth Bay.   That was a wonderful year, as I got to watch people gush over the illustrations that I was lucky enough to watch take shape in our house. I've always considered myself incredibly fortunate to be married to such a talented woman. But this time it was different.

    It's not even the first convention that I've sold my stuff at before. As a part of the All-Out Monster Revolt , I wrote a manual, How to Utilize Giant Monsters, which I have available for sale on my publications page. Working with Justynn Tyme on that was an amazing experience, and I'm very proud of the result. The thrill of being at my first convention with something that I had written was a thrill, and I'll never forget that first Galactic-Con where my work was on sale. But this time it was different.

    This convention was unique because of a very important first. It was the first public appearance of Oddity Prodigy Productions. OPP is a collective of artists, cosplay designers, and authors that all work together towards the same goal. That goal is to bolster each other's success and present a unified marketing face towards the world at large. Our members are Jacob Jones Goldstein, an internationally published author. Steve Myers, professional comic writer/artist and creator of SuperChum: the world's friendliest superhero. Marcella Harte, nationally award-winning illustrator, and wife to the luckiest man in the universe. Shasta Schatz, whose skill with cosplay design continues to blow me away. And yours truly.

    So when we arrived at the convention and I saw that we were not only billed as "Special Guests" of the convention, but billed second only to Darren Auck! Now, the Philadelphia Comic Conis a Collector's Con. It's a convention that you attend if you are looking to find back issues to fill holes in your collection. There are no panels or cosplay contests. It is not a large convention, but in the six hours that we were there, we made the table fee back plus a small profit. For a small convention, making the table fee back is a big deal. To make it even better, every hour they announced us to the entire convention. We were treated like rock stars, and it is something that I will never forget.

  So, I guess what this post is really about is my involvement in Oddity Prodigy Productions. I'm so privileged to be a part of such a fantastic group of people. And as of October 14, 2018 everyone should know. We are here so get ready!

 On Saturday, October 6th I read an excerpt from a published piece for the first time. The event was standing room only, and a procession of extremely talented writers had already read. As I looked out at the smiling faces of the crowd, I couldn't help but think back to how all this started. Almost three years ago I stood in front of a podium in the Newark Arts Alliance with several printed pages. The room was packed with people, and I was more than a little nervous. This was the first time I would be reading my writing at an Open Mic night. I had made the mistake of telling my wife that I might be interested in doing just that the prior month. We had been going to Open Mic night for several months at that point.

 She was networking among the literati, and I was there just for moral support. My wife has always been the smarter of the two of us when it came to chasing dreams. She was in the last days of working as the retail manager for the DCCA, which is now the Delaware Contemporary. It would be only a few weeks later that she made the connection that would lead to her National Award winning book, The Mermaid in Rehoboth Bay.

 I remember her saying, "You wrote that, and you're proud of it. Get up there and read it!" So there I was, reading in front of a room full of people. And they liked it. They laughed at the parts I wanted them to laugh at. When I sat back down, I felt a hundred feet tall. It began several months of readings from my work. The camaraderie and kindness of everyone at those nights bolstered my confidence, and I began writing again.  It was at the end of one of those evenings when Joanne Reinbold approached me and asked a rather innocuous question.  

 "Would you be interested in writing a short story with those characters and in that setting?" 

 I thought about it for about a millisecond before replying, "Absolutely, I would love to!" I never thought that conversation would have taken me back to that podium.

 I certainly never thought I would be reading The Black Dog of Cabra from an actually published anthology.  I have so many people to thank for that night. Joanne Reinbold and Weldon Burge for their invaluable assistance whipping the story into shape.
The Written Remains Writer's Guild for being so inclusive and bringing me into its fold. My beta readers Jacob Jones Goldstein and Steve Myers, whose insight and support have made me a better writer. And of course my wife, Marcella Harte Conlon, without whom I would not be where I am today. I love you, sweetheart.