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A college memory

by Donna Andrews of the Femmes Fatales.

At some point during my college career at the University of Virginia I took a course called Women in Literature. As I remember it, the class was intended to be disruptive--in a genteel, erudite, academic way, but still, disruptive. We were to read only women writers, many of them minor and forgotten figures in a literature whose pantheon consisted mostly of dead white men, and take them as seriously as . . . well, as they weren't usually taken.

It's been a few decades, and it's possible that others in that same class would remember it differently, or not at all. But this is what I remember.

It was a small class, maybe 25 students, and only three of them male. But you had to give them a certain amount of credit for taking Women in Literature at all. And they certainly joined enthusiastically into the classroom discussions.

About that time I read an article. I think it was an article that the professor teaching the class recommended; possibly she even included it in the optional reading list. At any rate, I read it: an academic study that measured the amount of time men and women spoke in mixed groups . . . like for instance, classrooms. The men in this study talked more than the women. A lot more. And they interrupted the women, who tended to stop talking when interrupted; and on the rare instances when a man was interrupted--probably by another man--he was likely to keep talking, thus refusing to accept interruption.

At my classes over the next few days, I was quieter than usual, observing what went on during discussions--and that article was right. Even in our women in literature class. Men were only 12% of the class, and yet they did close to half of the talking. I counted how many times they interrupted the women--and how few times the women interrupted them. And it wasn't just perception--I actually hid a watch in my notebook and timed everyone. The researches were right.

I went off and brooded over this for a while. And then I decided that at our next class, I would talk like a man.

I came out swinging. As soon as our professor asked the first discussion question, I plunged in and talked. Instead of politely conveying my thoughts as succinctly as possible and then stepping aside for the next speaker, I kept talking as long as I had something to say. I interrupted the men, even if I had nothing new to say, or nothing to say at all. (Actually, that doesn't happen too often. I can almost always think of something else to say.) When they tried to interrupt me, I just talked louder. It helped that I have a relatively low voice for a woman, and had learned a few things about projecting it from hanging out in the drama department. The whole trick of talking louder to keep someone from interrupting you worked pretty well, to the consternation of the (male) interrupters.

The other women were mostly stunned into silence. It was me and the boys, and I held my ground. Before the class ended, the men began protesting my behavior to the professor.

Who, bless her heart, figured out pretty quickly exactly what I was doing. And when one of the men became so incensed that he was on the point of storming out, threatening to report me to . . . I'm not sure who . . . she 'splained it all. Much spluttering and vehement protesting. I may have produced the log I'd kept of the last class or two. The professor tied my experiment into some of the discussions we'd been having about women's voices being silenced so articulately that I'm sure a few students suspected she'd put me up to it. But she hadn't. My idea.

It didn't change the world, this experiment of mine. I'm not even sure it changed my life. But it was very satisfying to have pulled it off, and satisfying to think back on it.

In fact, the only depressing thing is that I'm not sure a modern-day experiment would produce appreciably different results.

Hmm . . . might have to try that sometime.

 

Wide World of Writing

by Leigh Perry / Toni L.P. Kelner

I realized something wonderful last week.

I was at Gen Con, which is THE convention for tabletop gaming. Board games, role-playing games, card games... This year was the 50th Anniversary, and over 60,000 attendees descended upon Indianapolis for the four-day extravaganza. Yes, you read that right: over 60,000.

Now I've spent many happy hours playing tabletop games ranging from Monopoly and Life, to Dungeons and Dragons, to Trivial Pursuits, to Munchkin and Uno. But the real reason I went was for the Gen Con Writer's Symposium. The Symposium is one of many programming tracks associated with Gen Con, meaning that it's a sideline for the con. But remember, the con itself was 60,000 people--this sideline included several thousand attendees. Under the watchful eye of Marc Tassin, who runs the show, we had signings, readings, and of course, panels about the writing process. It was the programming that made me think of something.

Now when it comes to my author-related appearances, I mostly stick to mystery conventions, with science fiction & fantasy conventions a close second. Now and then I go to a romance convention, too. But the writers at Gen Con are a whole 'nother breed. There's not a huge mystery presence--as far as I know, the only mystery writers were me, my husband Steve, and Author Guest of Honor (and Former Femme) Charlaine Harris. Most of the rest write SF&fantasy, but there were horror writers, nonfiction writers, romance writers, and authors of children's books. And unsurprisingly, given the setting, many of them write for the gaming industry: games themselves, game-related novels, game background material (known as fluff, by the way), and so on. But when it came to setting the program, Marc didn't segregate us by genre or style or anything like that. Which was absolutely right.

When it came down to it, no matter what writers write, we're more alike than we are different.

We all worry about pacing, writer's block, cover designs, marketing, foreshadowing, structure, dialog, interactions with editors and fans, that all-important first page. Sure, there are some genre-specific issues: mysteries tend to start with a murder, for instance, and romances usually have happy endings. But overall, we writers all have the same sets of concerns and issues. That's kind of wonderful. It's reassuring to know that while my writing may be solitary, there are bunches of other writers struggling with the same problems I am. Sometimes their solutions work for me, and vice versa, but even when they don't, it's good to not feel alone.

So even though our books are shelved far apart at the bookstore, when it comes to the work, we writers are all part of the same tribe.


FYI: Gen Con--and the Writers Symposium--happen every year. The next show will be August 2 through 5, 2018, back in Indianapolis, Indiana. And the city loves Gen Con!

Welcome to the World of eSports

By Joanna Campbell Slan 

Question: At any given time, three percent of all the Internet traffic in the world is comprised of what?

Answer: People playing League of Legends (LoL).

Reluctantly, my husband and I were dragged into the world of professional eSports when our son got involved with Team Dignitas, a professional League of Legends Team. Like a lot of kids, Michael loved video games. Luckily, he was able to turn his passion into his profession, because today he’s the Vice President and General Manager of Team Dignitas, the eSports division of the Philadelphia 76ers.

Right now, you’re probably scratching your head and thinking, “What in the world is eSports?”

You know it as video games. But this isn’t your Pacman or Tetris of old. The Huffington Post calls eSports the fastest growing industry today.

Sure, there’s a debate over whether it qualifies as sports or not, but the US government agreed it does when they granted us the first ever Visa for an eSports player. Soledad O’Brien thinks it’s a sport, too.

And traditional sports teams, such as the Philadelphia 76ers, are buying up eSports teams, because they see eSports as having a bright future.

How big is it?

In 2015, 36 Million people watched 2015 League of Legends (LoL) World Championships as compared to 33 Million people who watched the 2015 BCS (Bowl Championship Series).

• The eSports market ($92 Billion market size) has surpassed both the recorded music and movie industry in gross sales.
• Over 100 Million people play LoL each month.
• Sure, Jimmy Kimmel joked about it—but he certainly took a lot of flak for it.

Here’s how it works with LoL, which is just one of the many eSports out there:

• Each team has five players, who play “champions” or characters with specialized abilities.
• The players have positions: Top Lane, Jungler, Mid Lane, AD Carry (Attack Damage), and Support.
• The players are known as Summoners and are called by their Summoner Names. Our team players are Ssumday, Shrimp, Keane, Altec, and Big. (Big formerly went by "Baby Eater," but the powers that govern eSports were not too pleased with that name. Hence, he's now "Big.")
• The game is won when a team brings down the Nexus of the opposing team.

What’s life like for a pro gamer?

• They command salaries up to $500,000 a year. (One retired pro player, Imaqtpie makes $4 Million a year streaming.)
• They live in a team house. Ours is a $4 Million mansion in Brentwood, California, complete with swimming pool and sauna.
• Our players have a professional chef who’s on call 24/7 and a house manager.
• Two coaches work with them.
• It’s very stressful. Their mechanical ability has to be top-notch. Most players average six keystrokes a second while playing.
• On game day, they play in the Riot studio in Los Angeles, California. The games are streamed on Twitch.

Like a lot of specialized activities, LoL has a language all its own. Fortunately, there are professional casters (broadcasters) who all the games.

Currently, Team Dignitas is 5/1, which puts us as Number One in the team standings. Believe me, it's a LOT more fun to be winning than to lose! You can see highlights from one of our more recent games here.

Do you know anyone who plays online video games?

Storytelling, Renaissance Style

by Leigh Perry / Toni L.P. Kelner

Earlier this fall, my family went to King Richard's Faire in Carver, MA, and it occurred to me that there's a lot a writer can learn a lot at a renaissance fair.

Of course, as  you may have noticed from past posts, my ability to connect random events to the writing life is directly correlated by how late I am at posting--this one should have been written yesterday--but I actually have a point or two to make.

First off, let me introduce the concept of a renaissance fair to those who haven't had the opportunity to attend one. These are seasonal events in which a renaissance village is recreated, with more or less accuracy, complete with monarchs, knights on horseback, and all kinds of entertainers. Costumed characters wander the grounds, and attendees are encouraged to wear medieval garb themselves.

Wait, medieval? I thought this was the renaissance?

Well, kind of. The fact is, renn fairs play pretty fast and loose with history. For instance, most seem to be set in English villages, even though the renaissance as such never really hit England. King Richard's Faire, for instance is set in the faux town of Cavershire. Which brings us to my first point.

Accuracy, smaccuracy--are you having fun?

This is not to say that authors shouldn't do their research. Whether your protagonist is a cop or a hair dresser or an archeologist, you should know enough about those vocations to depict them accurately. Ditto for settings, forensics, and such. But mystery readers are willing to cut you some slack for purposes of a good story. Archeologists don't often investigate murders, any more than private eyes do. Police officers do, but they work in task forces and teams and juggle all kind of cases, not just the one in the book's title. You know this and mystery readers know this. We all just wink and play along, just as I wink at Jacques Ze Whipper, making a pun on a murderer who wasn't know until the 1880s and who had apparently drawn on his mustache with an eyebrow pencil. Why? Because it's fun. And in this case, because Jacques is a great performer.

As for the French accent and the mustache, that's all part of the character he's created. And that brings me to my second point.

Characters are important, and consistant characters even more so.

One of the attractions of a renn fair is that the people in the village aren't just people in costume--they have their own characters to portray, and I know from speaking to people who work at renn faires they don't just throw on bits and pieces of leftover garb--they spend a lot of time creating their characters and dressing appropriately.

 

 

So even the man wrangling the crowd at the joust and the woman selling cider are in character, and it adds so much flavor to the day to see them, just as colorful characters add to a story.

Moreover, they stay in character all day long.So don't ask anybody about  iPhones or the Red Sox--there are no such things known in Carvershire. Instead, ask them about the king and queen, or whether they take shields of credit (that's credit cards to you and me), or where the privies are. (Fortunately, they do not insist on period restroom facilities.)

Speaking of jousting, they have great ones. Games, sword fighting, and  knock-knights-off-the-horse-with-a-lance battles. It's a tremendous spectacle, and unsuprisingly, leads to my next point.

Conflict is good.

It makes for a good story to have a strong conflict, whether it's between two postive characters or between an antagonist and a protagonist. It doesn't have to be phyisical and violent, but those sure are satisfying to watch. Here's the knight we rooted for.

See how eager he is to go into battle, and to talk smack about his opponent? Though he didn't win, it wasn't from lack of cheering on our part. And he had a great death scene, which segues right into the next point.

A strong ending stays with you.

Though you can of course leave the faire at any time, it's well worth it to stay until the end of the day when the King, the Queen, and the court appear at the gate to see you off with a renaissance flair and most of the villagers come to sing a really lovely farewell song.

 

The day felt complete, just as a satisfying ending makes a book or story feel complete. And that's the kind of story that's going to stay with the reader, which is what all writers want. I know we felt as if we'd brought a little bit of the renaissance home with us that day.

Games and Stories

by Toni L.P. Kelner / Leigh Perry

In August, I attended Gen Con in Indianapolis, the granddaddy of tabletop gaming conventions, and though I've been meaning to write about it ever since, I don't think I can do it justice even now. I'm still in sensory overload.

The first thing to know is that Gen Con is HUGE.

This is just a small sample. We're talking 56,000 people converging on downtown. Events filled the convention center and spread throughout several connecting hotels. Even hotels with no official events hosted smaller groups of gamers and game professionals. So. Many. People. The program book was so heavy I started tearing out pages as the days went by so I wouldn't have so much weight in my bag.

Of course the main emphasis is games: Dungeons & Dragons, Pokemon, Magic the Gathering, war games, board games, role-playing games, trading card games, dice games. Even a little bit of computer gaming, though that's not the focus. So games were run around the clock. I never went into the convention center at any time of day without seeing rooms filled with thoroughly focused gamers, and game designers trying to talk people into trying--and buying--their games. Plus there were parties, dances, costume contests, and even concerts. (If you ever have a chance to see the Doubleclicks perform, run, do not walk. In the meantime, check them out on YouTube.)

Though I was once a dedicated D&D player myself, my reason for going to Gen Con was the Gen Con Writer's Symposium, which is just one small programming track for Gen Con. But with a con as enormous as Gen Con, even this tiny subset is a twenty-year-old tradition with 60 program participants and 2,000 attendees. There were four tracks of programming for the first three days of the convention with critique sessions on the fourth. Audiences ranged from just a handful to standing room only, but the average was  well-attended.

Most of my fellow panelists write speculative fiction. The guests of honor were Jim Butcher and Bill Willingham, with Larry Correia as a special guest--all three of these are known for fantasy. So honestly, I was kind of surprised that organizer Marc Tassin invited a mystery gal like me. The other writers didn't seem to mind, though. They were welcoming, and as interested to learn about the mystery side of the world as I was to learn about their experiences. I do know some about the science fiction and fantasy field because of the anthologies I've co-edited with Femme Charlaine, but a lot of this stuff was new to me.

• The market for game-based fiction is huge. Many of the other writers had written books set in various game worlds, and had done very well with them.
• There's also a lot of writing in games themselves. Not just the rules, but also "fluff," which is supplemental material about a world in which a game is based. It's not the rules per se, but descriptions and explanations that add richness and context. (Game-based fiction can be fluff, too, I understand.)
• There are a lot more small SF publishers than I see in mystery, but many of them are very small indeed.
• The anthology market is quite active in SF but the pay is, for the most part, very low. Some anthologies pay nothing in advance, just a share of royalties that may never appear. And while the writers aren't happy about that, they're still practicing their craft and producing amazing work for anthologies, which I have to admire.

One thing I'd concluded before going to Gen Con, but certainly had it reinforced: the storytelling skill used in creating games is just as elaborate and well-thought out as in traditional fiction. Characterization, pacing, world-building, exposition--it's all there. And gamers talk about the same kinds of things that readers do, as in, "I liked the action, but the motivation wasn't there," and "The character just wasn't well fleshed-out." There's a good reason there's a writer's symposium included with Gen Con. Good game designers are good writers!

So if you like tabletop gaming and good writing--and don't mind crowds--you might want to check out Gen Con one year. You just might see me there again.

The Games Are Afoot!

by Toni L.P. Kelner / Leigh Perry

By the time this is posted, I'll be packed and ready to take off for GenCon in Indianapolis to participate in their Writer's Symposium. Though I've never attended a gaming convention, let alone the granddaddy of gaming cons, in an odd way, this is going to be a trip down memory lane for me.

When I was in college and even a few years beyond, I spent just about every weekend playing Dungeons & Dragons with my friends. We'd spend hours huddled around a table covered with rulebooks and character sheets, rolling dice as we fought orcs and evil wizards and made our way through dungeons.

If you've never played D&D, you might not get the point, but here's a video a local newstation filmed when I was in college. I'm not in it, though many of my friends are, including Steve and that not-so-great first boyfriend. I think it does a great job of showing the attraction of the game and role-playing games in general.

 

So how did this affect me, other than to entertain me mightily?

On the writing side, my first professional publications were game-related. I interviewed Jim Dutton, the owner of a play-by-mail game company called ECI, and the resulting article ran in a extremely short-lived magazine called Gaming Universal. And by short-lived, I mean three issues. Here's the cover of the issue my article ran in, from January/February 1984. The cover illustration is by my friend Kim Allman, a frequent Dungeon Master for our games.

After that article ran, I was encouraged by Kim to submit limericks to the magazine. In fact, he told the editor Bob McClain that I'd written lots of limericks. I don't know why--I'd never written one outside of school. But I learned quickly, submitted two limericks to Gaming Universal, and both were accepted. Unfortunately, they were set to appear in Issue #4, which never came to pass.

Undaunted, I submitted them to Dragon, which was the Dungeons & Dragons related magazine published by TSR Games. Not only did they buy them, but they bought a total of twelve from me. The first ran in Issue #91, from November of 1984.

The limerick, if you're curious, was this:

She thought it true love she had found
When the handsome young sentaur came 'round.
But one roll in the hay,
And he trotted away;
He was only horsing around.

It's obvious that I was destined for greatness.

Actually, more than the game-related work I published, it was the gaming itself that helped me as a writer. On one hand, in role-playing my hobbit thief Goldwyn du Locks and my cleric Drayla, I learned about creating backstory and how different characters will react completely differently in the same circumstance. I got a feel for how some storylines seem natural, and others were forced. And in playing with other players, I learned I really don't like group story-telling nearly so much as I like sitting alone in a room and typing by myself. These were some pretty darned valuable lessons.

On a personal level, much of my social life during those years circled around our weekly Dungeonsgames. I met my first boyfriend through D&D, and though he was no great shakes as a boyfriend, he did did me the singular favor of intruducing me to Steve, the fellow who became my second boyfriend, and later my husband.

Though I still play a lot of games online notably Neopets and Facebook games, I'm not the gamer I was. So I was taken aback when Marc Tassin emailed and asked if I'd like to come to GenCon. You see, all those years I played D&D, GenCon was famous among us players as the place to learn about new games, test play modules, and meet other players. And now I had a chance to go? As a professional? I didn't even hesitate!

And that was before I found out that some two thousand people come to Symposium events (out of the forty-nine thousand at the event itself), or that Jim Butcher and Bill Willingham would be participating, or even that Marc was interested in Steve participating, too. All I thought of was those days of sitting around a table, rolling dice, and creating worlds and characters. If you leave out the dice, that's still what I love to do.

So I'll be at GenCon all weekend: talking on panels, signing books, and all that author stuff. But between authorial sessions, don't be surprised to find me in the dealer's hall, wandering down a memory lane of sorts. I might even buy a new set of dice.

 

 

FYI: If you dig up those copies of Gaming Universal or Dragon, you won't find either the name Toni L.P. Kelner or Leigh Perry. I was publishing as Toni Leigh Perry back in those days.

 

This is not your father's summer camp!

by Toni L.P. Kelner / Leigh Perry

 

I never went to summer camp. Okay, I did a couple of stints at vacation Bible school, but I never did the cabin/sleeping bag/swimming in Lake Whatchamacallit thing. None of the outdoorsy stuff appealed to me, plus I was shy and a picky eater, so communal living really didn't thrill me. I'd say that my only experience with summer camps as a child was in books and in movies like The Parent Trap. (The original one--with Hayley Mills and Hayley Mills.)

I admit Hayley and Hayley lent a certain glamour to the idea of getting dumped into the lake and constructing bird cages out of Popsicle sticks, but I already had three sisters and didn't relish the idea of coming home with a hitherto unknown twin. So I was happy to have missed that particular rite of passage.

Then I had kids who wanted to go to camp, and took a whole new look at them. My gosh, even the rich Hayley never had camps like the ones that are available now. There are sports camps, math camps, science camps, high school prep camps, college prep camps, and fitness camps. There are camps for computer programming, animation, and game design. Kids can spend all summer at one camp, or switch venues every week.

Now my kids are no more into sports than I was, and honestly can be just as picky eaters, but they can still enjoy the wonders of summer camps in their own particular idiom: drama, art, and live-action role playing.

Maggie's was the first to go a'camping at Kidstock, a theater school in nearby Winchester, MA. We were gratified when she came home after the first day and told us she'd be playing Juliet in "Romeo and Juliet." Then she reassured us that she would not actually have to kiss the young actor playing Romeo. As it worked out, they had several Juliets of different age levels and acting abilities. Here's Maggie in costume.

 

Later on she appeared as a random member of the Capulet family in a massive battle with Montagues. Cutest. Fight. Scene. Ever. 

Val joined the Kidstock fun when she was old enough, but I confess I can't remember what role she was playing in this glorious hat. (Hats play an important part in characterization.)

Both girls continued to attend summer camp at Kidstock for many years: acting, singing, dancing, making movies, doing Popsicle-stick free art projects. (Not a canoe in sight! And while I enjoyed attending ever single performance--sometimes going to the same show multiple times--I never felt wistful about having missed out on a camp like Kidstock myself. I'm not an actress or a dancer, and my singing is pretty much restricted to the shower.

In later years, both girls attended a different kind of camp: live-action role-playing camp. (That's LARP to those of you who share my geek cred.) Wizards and Warriors gave Maggie and Valerie the chance to create characters and design costumes to match. (Well, with a little shopping help from me.) The counselors led them through fantasy adventures in the mythical land of Siddleterra with mysteries to solve, battles to fight, and stories to tell. It's amazing.

Though Maggie has now aged out of the summer camp phenomenon, Valerie just finished a session Wizards and Warriors this week, and the big finale was the Feast of Heroes. Songs were song, heroes were recognized, and we managed to escape from a ring wraith. (Bilbo Baggins made a guest appearance.) Some of the parents--and big sisters--got into the spirit, too, and came in costume. Here's Valkyrie Stefansdottir, Maggie, and the aforementioned Stefan at the feast.

You know what. With Wizards and Warriors, I finally found a summer camp I would have liked to attend. Like? I'd have begged my parents for a chance to go. Of course, it's too late for me to dress up for such things. Or is it?


I think I'm starting to like summer camp after all.



PS - I very much hope to follow Marcia's example some day and establish Camp Grandmama! And just in case, I'll hang onto my hat.

 

Writing Avoidance? My Word, No!

By Marcia Talley

I’ve just been diagnosed with DeQuervain Syndrome.  Sounds serious, but hold off on the sympathy cards while I explain that DeQuervain’s is an inflammation of the tendons surrounding the thumb that make grasping my coffee pot, or unscrewing the lid of a pickle jar a mild form of torture.  Since it’s a repetitive stress injury, one might assume it’d been caused by the hours I spend hunched over the keyboard, pounding out Hannah’s latest adventure, but you’d be wrong.  I haven’t been able to twist the cork out of a wine bottle since a week after I started playing Word with Friends on my iPhone.

Word with Friends (or WWF, not to be confused with the World Wrestling Federation or the abbreviation WTF), is a Scrabble-inspired app so addictive that actor Alec Baldwin got booted off an American Airlines flight when he allegedly retreated to the toilet to finish a game, rather than turn off his iPhone when instructed to do so by the flight attendant.

It’s a more relaxed game than Scrabble, though, as long as you’re not playing in an airplane toilet during takeoff.  You have oodles of time to make a move – minutes, hours, days or even weeks – and you don’t lose a turn if you try out a non-word.  Sorry, it tells you politely, ZOOT is not a word, and you move on, try again.

Before my friend Dan introduced me to WWF, I might have been caught engaging in less productive writing-avoidance behavior--perming the cat, for example, or neutering the houseplants.  Since WWF, however, no more lame excuses for me! WWF uses words! Playing the game will keep my brain limber, I reason, like solving crossword puzzles or working Sudoku.

Besides, writing is a solitary business; authors don’t get out much. Yet WWF is interactive! The Zynga programmers cleverly integrated the iPhone’s chat function into the game, so when my son-in-law the dermatologist plays a word like pityriasis for 127 points, I can tell him he’s a smarty-pants, in real time, right from my office chair.

WWF is educational, too.  Yesterday when I seemed to be suffering from irritable vowel syndrome—my letter tray looked like a street map of Honolulu —I chuckled.  No problem! I know six vowel-only words by heart – EAU, AA, AE, AI, OE and OI – and if you toss in a consonant, I can play MIAOU, AIOLI or EERIE.  Other high-scoring faves I keep in mind are QI, XI, JO and ZA – although I can’t understand why ZA is a word and OK is not … okay, that is.  Have you ever called up Papa Johns and order a "za" with mushrooms and pepperoni?  I thought not.

WWF addicts are everywhere.  It’s the crack cocaine of word games. In crowded airports, we are betrayed by the bloop, bloop, bloop of the letters as we move them around on the board, by the ding that signals an opponent wants to chat.  I met Marcy in a coffee shop when her iPhone blooped.  We started talking and discovered we both graduated from Oberlin College, which might explain why our games are so evenly matched. 

While my thumb heals, I’ve switched to playing WWF on my iPad.  And I’m taking it easy, limiting games to the eight word-wranglers queued up on my iPad right now, including my best friend, my kids, author friends like Donna and Dan and even Dan’s seven-year-old son, Jack, who asked his dad the other day, "When can Marcia come over to play?"

DeQuervain’s was my wake-up call.  WWF was cutting into my Facebook time and people were starting to worry. "Are you all right?" a concerned sister emailed.  "You haven’t posted much lately." 

Don’t worry, I told her.  I’m fine.  In control.  WWF is only a game. I can take it or leave it.  I’m having a great time writing this blog . . . I’ve got a short story in the works . . . hold on, my iPad just dinged.  I hope it’s my daughter, the hotshot lawyer.  Give her a JOW and she’ll take a GUZ.* But I’m about to play ZOEAL** on a triple-word score.  That girl is going down!

 

*obsolete South Asian units of measurement, roughly equivalent to .25 inch and a yard, respectively

** crab larva

Marcia is the author of THE LAST REFUGE and ten previous Hannah Ives mysteries. A winner of the Malice Domestic grant and an Agatha nominee for Best First Novel, Marcia won an Agatha and an Anthony for her story "Too Many Cooks" and an Agatha for the story "Driven to Distraction." She edited two mystery collaborations, and has published more than a dozen short stories. She lives in Annapolis, Maryland, and winters on an antique sailboat in the Bahamas. www.marciatalley.com

        

 

 

Champions of Mystery

by Toni L.P. Kelner

 

I used to play a game called Champions.

Champions was a roleplaying game along the same lines as Dungeons & Dragons, but instead of creating a halfing thief named Goldwyn du Locks or a human cleric named Gandie, I designed superhero characters who would then perform... well, super heroics. My favorite was a teleporter named Harlequin, whose secret identiy was a circus trapeeze artist. (Just FYI, my Harlequin long predates the villain Harley Quinn in the Batman universe.)

In the Champions gaming system, players were given a pool of points to "spend" on abilities like flight, teleportation, super strength, and the other staples of comic book denizens. The stronger the power, the more points it cost.

In order to increase your pool of points, you gave your character weaknesses. So you could make your character allergic to some substance the way Superman was affected by the various shades of kryptonite. or make her unable to affect objects of a certain type similar to Green Lantern's weakness against yellow objects. (How he must have feared Easter peeps!)

Or you could give your character a dependent, somebody she had to keep safe just as  Spider-Man worried about Aunt May and Superman had to keep an eye on his parents, childhood friends, plus both Jimmy Olsen and Lois Lane. 

Then there was the issue of secret identities--even before the day of camera phones everywhere, it wasn't easy to hide using a pair of glasses, dowdy wig, or a mask. 

The more weaknesses I gave a character, the more points I got to add powers or to increase the strength of existing powers. It was very zen--more weaknesses caused stronger, more powerful characters. And since this was a roleplaying game, I found that those so-called weaknesses also made characters more interesting to play. A good gamemaster would use all that backstory to create exciting scenarios with appropriate villains that would really test my character.

I'm not pointing this out just to stroll down nerdy memory lane--though that is fun. It's because the rules of Champions came to mind as I started working on the cast of characters for my Family Skeleton mysteries. I'm dipping into the paranormal world, and it's been a different process than creating characters for my previous books. Laura (of the Laura Fleming series) and Tilda (of the "Where are they now?" series) are both human, so Krytonite and yellow peeps don't bother them a whole lot. But the Family Skeleton in the new book is actually a skeleton. Sid walks, talks, and makes bad jokes. My daughter Maggie sculpted this statue of Sid.

Even though Sid will be featured in a mystery series, not a comic book, he isn't that different form comic book characters I've seen. There's Dead Man, Ghost Rider, Mr. Bones...  So I've been starting to think of Sid as if he were a Champions character.

 

So what are Sid's powers? I'm thinking normal strength, speed, hearing, sense of smell... No taste, though, and he doesn't have much of an appetite. On the plus side, he can fold himself into a small space, like a suitcase, just by relaxing his mental hold on his bones. I'm still thinking about the ramifications if he's split into pieces, say with his skull in one room and his hands in another. Can those separate pieces see or move, or does he have to be all in one place? Either way, he's going to be a great covert operative--he can play dead like nobody else.

As for weaknesses, the biggie has got to be that secret identity issue. Sid can't just put on a mask if need be--he actually has to hide his existence. Dependents? I think there will be three. Georgia is the viewpoint character. She found Sid as a little girl, and grew up with him. Her teenaged daughter, on the other hand, doesn't know about him. Then there's the dog...

Just as in Champions, the more weaknesses and limitations I give Sid, the more fun he's going to be to play with. And when I'm done, I'll be inviting everybody to read and play along with the Family Skeleton.

Bouchercon 2010

by Kris Neri

The Femmes Fatales cut quite a presence through Bouchercon in San Francisco this year. Our proudest moments had to be Hank Phillippi Ryan’s Macavity and Anthony wins in the short story category.

For this round-up, let’s start with Hank’s report:

Even the red eye home could not make me stop smiling! My Bouchercon headlines are life-changing—my short story “On the House” won the Anthony and the Macavity. Hey! Doesn’t get better than that. I am endlessly grateful and honored and happy and still can’t believe it. And since our Dana won last year, it makes it all perfect.

But I must say—Bouchercon was incredible. If not for my room service oatmeal every morning (outrageously expensive, don’t even ask!) I hardly ate during the day, it was so non-stop. I might be the outlier, but I love to go to panels—I always think I learn a few wonderful things at every convention, and it’s such fun to see everyone. And it’s such a treat, like Disneyland for mystery lovers. You get off the elevator—and there’s Val McDermid, or Louise Penny, or Lee Child, or Bryan Gruley (my new fave) or John Connolly. Denise Mina and Val were amazing in interview—I can still her the lilt of their voices and their funny stories.  Had dinner with William Link of Colombo fame and he told some wonderful stories. You know where the name Colombo came from?

I got to interview David Baldacci in front of everyone when Robert Crais had to cancel for a family  emergency. Scary! I felt like one of the chorus girls (a very OLD chorus girl) in Broadway Melody or something, having to learn the part in just a few hours. But it went fine. And he’s such a pro.

Danced with Toni Kelner, chatted with Kris in the elevator, went to Dana’s terrific panel and  was the  auctioneer of the charity auction with Donna! (And Harley Jane Kozak.) Mary—were you there? Can’t believe I missed you somehow…what am I forgetting?

It was really well managed, don’t you think? Everything went smoothly and it all worked so well! Oh, Femmes, I am pretty tired. But I’m eager to see your reports—they’ll probably be more coherent than this one! And see you in St. Louis.

Mary Saums was the first there, and the first to leave:

San Francisco is such a cool place! It's beautiful. My first adventure started before I even got into the  city - riding the BART! I'm not too sharp when it comes to mass transportation. Once I figured out how to get my ticket from the machine though, everything went well, even with carting luggage. At the hotel, the view of the Bay Bridge and the bay from the hotel window was spectacular. After I threw my bags into the room, one of my Sisters In Crime friends, Beth Wasson, and I trekked out to the Haight-Ashbury area where we saw such beautiful homes and unique businesses. We also visited the offices of Code Pink - Women for Peace while we were out. We walked until we couldn't walk anymore, then rode buses around town. Every area is so interesting - I love this place!

From Dana Cameron:

Bouchercon is always a terrific reunion--with the bonus of getting to read more BOOKS, before (to prepare for panels) and after (when you reward yourself with a TBR, by new friends and old).  I had a terrific time with the panels I was on and especially loved seeing "The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly," which was a hoot.  I was thrilled with my Macavity and Anthony nods, and delighted for Hank's Macavity win!  Best of all was getting to see friends I don't get to spend enough time with (here we see Dan Hale, Margery Flax, me, and Femme Toni).  Off to my last panel and the Anthony brunch!

And from Donna Andrews:

Highlights of Bouchercon: attending the Minotaur party Thursday night at La Mar, a Peruvian seafood restaurant, where I tried a Pisco Sour . . . having a late, post-party dinner with Deborah Crombie, Julia Spencer-Fleming, and Marcia Talley--at 10 p.m., which I figured out later was 1 a.m. East Coast time . . . deciding maybe I will not share with Mom quite ALL the jokes I heard at dinner . . . missing at least half the panels I planned to attend, though at least I caught the panels by friends Ellen Crosby and Meredith Cole and fellow Femmes Hank Phillippi Ryan and Dana Cameron  . . showing up on time for my 8:30 a.m. Saturday panel--"It's 11:30; keep telling yourself that!" . . . joining forces with Hank and Harley Jane Kozak for a short but sweet auction to benefit the San Francisco Public Library and 836 Valencia (an organization that teaches writing to kids).  Not surprisingly, the character name in Lee Child's upcoming book was the biggest draw, but characters by Denise Mina, Eddie Muller, and Laurie King drew high bids as well. And in between the panels and parties, I talked to many old and a few new friends and missed the chance to talk to many more.  How did four days fly by so fast?

Here’s Toni L.P. Kelner’s report:

While in San Francisco, I posted something about the magnificence of the Bcon hotel on Facebook.  A friend of mine who isn't part of the mystery community replied, "A bacon hotel?  I want to go!"  While it's true that bacon makes almost anything better, Bouchercon didn't need a thing to improve it--it was terrific from start to finish.  But I have to say, it's the parties that loom largest in my memory.

 On Thursday we had the opening reception, with amazing food and free books--what more could a mystery fan ask?  Except maybe to have authors signing the books...  No, wait, we had that, too.  Harper Collins had a glory selection of authors with stacks of books to sign and give away.  And maybe something to applaud.  Nope, had that, too, when Femme Hank won a Macavity for Best Short Story.  Actually, it was a double Femme cheer--Femme Dana was up for that award, too.

Friday night was a double-header.  I had cocktails at the Berkley Prime Crime bash.  It's always good to press the flesh with the wonderful, charming, gorgeous, brilliant folks at Berkley.  (Why yes, I am sucking up.)  After that was the Reacher Creature bar bash sponsored by the ever-gracious and ever-generous Lee Child, which came complete with not one, not two, but three buff men competing for the title of "Best Jack Reacher."

Come Saturday, we had the Bouchercon Disco, with both a band and a DJ.  I'm a terrible dancer, but I sure did have a good time.  Except I don't think I'll ever master the Electric Slide--I have no kinetic memory to speak of.  And maybe I should take a proofreader to the next dance--I need help spelling out the letters for "YMCA."

To wrap it all up, there was the Anthony Awards brunch--plenty of good food and plenty to cheer about when Femme Hank got the Anthony for Best Short Story.  And it was her birthday to boot!

I know the song says that people leave their hearts in San Francisco, but for me, it was the parties I left there.

And lastly, let’s hear from me, Kris Neri:

I had a strange mishap on the way to Bouchercon--I didn't navigate the local transit as smoothly as Femme Mary. On one of the many BART escalators I took to get to the platform at the airport, I felt my suitcase pulling back down the up escalator. I tried to hold onto it, but it slipped from my grasp. When it did, it sat me down on the step with one leg twisted oddly over my shoulder. I do remember experiencing a peculiar sensation, when I couldn’t precisely recall how my legs were supposed to go. Amazingly, it all happened in slow motion. I didn’t fall, I was eased to the step. I did figure out the leg mechanics, and a friend on a step above me helped me to stand. A stranger caught my suitcase on the way down, which also moved quite slowly, and she handed it back to me at the top. It could not have gone better if I had planned it, assuming anyone ever plans to go heels-over-head on an escalator. But it did cause me to suffer a few scary moments and a minor loss of dignity. Since I didn’t get hurt, though, I have to assume it must have looked pretty funny. I’ll use it someday in a book

After that, everything went absolutely great. The high point of any convention is always connecting with the many old friends I find there. Seeing the many familiar faces, catching up with their lives. I’d go that alone.

My panel was fun. I was on the Room With a View: Off-Beat Protagonists panel with, Rebecca M. Hale, Ann Littlewood, Sasscer Hill, and which was brilliantly moderated by Avery Ames. As the first panel on Thursday, we weren’t sure many people would show up, or even be in attendance at the convention. But our panel room was full of enthusiastic folks who cheered us on and asked great questions.

I also crashed the Guppies luncheon at a nearby Rubios. I’m not a member of the Guppies, but I’ve taught some classes for them, so I really enjoyed finally meet some of them face-to-face.

Especially fun for me was revisiting San Francisco. I lived there for seven years when I was younger — don’t even ask how many years ago because I can’t count that high! I’ve been back on occasion, though not recently, and I never stayed in the Embarcadero, one of my favorite neighborhoods. Especially gratifying was touching base with the places I once loved, walking the same paths, not to mention catching up with San Francisco’s many great watering holes and its fabulous restaurants. It was good to discover that while we both grew up since then, we didn’t grow apart, as I feared we might.