Back from Toronto
First of all, I'm an idiot. I'm still a bit new to this whole blogging thing, and have only just realised - after wondering why I wasn't getting any comments on the stuff I'd been saying (or rather, just assuming that either a) it wasn't interesting enough to comment on, b) no one was reading it, or c) both) that I've had a whole bunch of comments - well, 7 or so - that I wasn't aware of. So, to all those who have commented, can I just say thanks a lot for taking the time and effort to get back to me, and sorry if I seemed to be ignoring you. I appreciate all your comments and am delighted that you all seem to like the site. And incidentally, the winner of the signed copy of The Immaculate (assuming that she wants one) is Liz Massie! Hooray! Liz, if you drop me a line with your address I'll stick one in the post to you pronto.
Okay, so...WHC in Toronto. What a fantastic time I had. Of course, this is a massive generalisation, but overall the horror community is populated by the funniest, wittiest, cleverest, most warm-hearted, generous bunch of people you could ever hope to meet, and I feel truly privileged to call many of them my friends. As well as great mates like Tim Lebbon, Sarah Pinborough, Pete & Nicky Crowther, Ramsey & Jenny Campbell, Conrad Williams and Steve Jones (who I see on a fairly regular basis - though it's never often enough), it was also brilliant to catch up with old friends I hadn't seen for far too long - Mike & Paula Smith, Pete & Dana Atkins, the lovely Chris Golden, and a whole bunch of others too numerous to name here. We talked and we laughed and we drank, and the four days just flew by - too fast, too fleeting. And - as often happens at conventions - by the end of it I'd added several new friends to the list, principally Steve Volk (who flew to Toronto and back with Tim & I, and who, by the end of the weekend, I felt I'd known for years), and Nate & Nicole Kenyon, who I spent most of Sunday evening chatting to when a bunch of us went for a meal in the revolving restaurant at the top of the CN Tower, which I'm reliably informed is the tallest building in the world (and which has a glass floor, through which you can look hundreds of feet down to the ground below. Gulp).
Work-wise at WHC, I moderated a couple of panels and did a reading. My first panel was an interesting experience. It was on the Thursday night at 11pm (which for me was 4am Friday morning). I had woken up in a London hotel room at 7:00 that morning, and had said to Tim, who I was sharing the room with, "Hey, I've got a panel in 21 hours". We'd then done all the airport check-in stuff, flown to Toronto, got settled into the hotel, had a few drinks in the bar, been out for a meal (our fourth of that strange, elongated first day) and suddenly, jet-lagged and woozy, there I was trying to lead the discussion on a late-night panel attended by a rowdy, vociferous, enthusiastic audience. A bit of a baptism of fire, but great fun nonetheless. The theme of the panel was "What exactly is Horror?" An impossible question to answer, of course, but we did our best and (at least from the favourable comments I received afterwards) kept the audience entertained. I was ably assisted on that first panel by Michael Arnzen, Gary Braunbeck, Brian Keene and Deborah LeBlanc - lovely people, all. Fuelled by Brian Keene's Knob Hill (don't ask), we ultimately concluded that Horror couldn't be defined, because it meant different things to different people. A cop-out maybe, but the only possible answer. And so to bed.
For my reading on the Saturday afternoon I decided to do a chapter and a half of my forthcoming Leisure novel, The Deluge. It was the first time the material had had any sort of public airing, and it seemed to go down well (no one walked out or fell asleep, at any rate). I got a reasonably good audience - maybe fifteen or twenty people - and the reading venue was great: small, intimate, with round tables and an armchair for the reader to sit in if he or she wished to do so (though I stood; for some reason I can't read out loud sitting down). This, for me, is one of the favourite parts of my job. I love doing public readings of my work - though the one bit I'm not keen on, if I'm reading a section from a novel, as I was here, is setting the scene in context. I always feel as though I blunder and fumble through this bit, either saying too much or too little. No one else seemed to notice, though - or if they did, they didn't admit it.
My final panel, at 10am on the Sunday morning (the traditional and much-loved hangover panel) was lots of fun. I really enjoyed this one. I was moderating again and had as my fellow panellists Pete Atkins, David Morrell, Yvonne Navarro and Tony Richards. Our theme this time was "Don't give up the day job: the current state of horror". This was one of those panels where everyone had a lot to say, the audience were attentive and interested and had tons of questions to ask, and where, to be honest, we could have rambled on for hours.
On the Saturday night, of course, was the traditional Stoker banquet, where I was up for an award for Cinema Macabre in the Best Non-Fiction Category. Awards are funny things. I never really think about them until about an hour before they're due to be presented, and then I get terribly nervous. As Pete Crowther had said at the PS Publishing party the night before, the only people who say awards aren't important are those who don't have any awards, and he's right. Awards - and award nominations - are a way of letting you know that your peers and your readers are aware of your work and they're enjoying what you're doing. Although Cinema Macabre got the biggest cheer when the nominees were read out (possibly something to do with all the drunken Brits in the audience), it didn't win. That, for me, now makes a personal tally of nine award nominations and nine defeats. Always the bridesmaid... I was disappointed for about five minutes, but felt better once I'd gone over and punched the winner in the face (that's a joke, by the way). After the banquet, myself, Steve Volk (who'd been up for Best Short Story) & Chris Golden (nominated for Best Novella) hosted a Losers Party in the bar.
Aside from all this fun and frivolity, I also did a good bit of business at the convention. I can't say too much at the moment in case it all collapses around my ears, but I had lunch with an editor at a major US publisher, which I'm hoping will lead to something, spoke briefly to my editor at Leisure, Don D'Auria, who seemed keen to see another horror novel from me for next year, and I also had a meeting with Paul Miller from Earthling, with a view to me writing something for their novellas range. All good stuff, and it means that I've got more than enough to keep me busy for at least the next year or so.
Since getting back from Toronto, I've been working hard on my Doctor Who novel, Forever Autumn, which is deadlined for the end of this month. I've only got about 8,000 words left to write now, so hopefully will be putting the finishing touches to it by this time next week, if not before. I've thoroughly enjoyed writing this. It's been a pleasure from start to finish. Once Doctor Who is out of the way, I've got some bits and pieces of editing to do on various upcoming projects, a few novel/novella proposals to thrash out, and then I'll be launching into my Hellboy novel, The All-Seeing Eye, which I'm also really looking forward to.
Before I go, a quick mention of an upcoming event: on Saturday 28th April I'll be appearing at the second Alt.Fiction Day at the Assembly Rooms in Derby. This is a day of panels, readings and workshops devoted to horror/fantasy/science-fiction. Last year's event was a huge success and this year's looks set to be even better. Organiser Alex Davis has gathered together an absolutely stellar line-up of genre folk, including the likes of Iain Banks, Ramsey Campbell, Stephen Gallagher, Graham Joyce, Pete Crowther, Sarah Ash, Mike Carey, Peter Hamilton, Mark Chadbourn, Harry Harrison...the list goes on. The whole thing starts at mid-day (I think) and finishes around 9pm. I'll be appearing with my old muckers, Tim Lebbon and Sarah Pinborough, at 7pm, where we'll each be doing a reading and answering questions from the audience. It should be a great day, so please come along if you can. All the information about the event can be found at www.derby.gov.uk/LeisureCulture/ArtsEntertainment/altfiction.htm
Oh, and if you do come, don't forget to set your videos for the Daleks on Doctor Who...
Okay, so...WHC in Toronto. What a fantastic time I had. Of course, this is a massive generalisation, but overall the horror community is populated by the funniest, wittiest, cleverest, most warm-hearted, generous bunch of people you could ever hope to meet, and I feel truly privileged to call many of them my friends. As well as great mates like Tim Lebbon, Sarah Pinborough, Pete & Nicky Crowther, Ramsey & Jenny Campbell, Conrad Williams and Steve Jones (who I see on a fairly regular basis - though it's never often enough), it was also brilliant to catch up with old friends I hadn't seen for far too long - Mike & Paula Smith, Pete & Dana Atkins, the lovely Chris Golden, and a whole bunch of others too numerous to name here. We talked and we laughed and we drank, and the four days just flew by - too fast, too fleeting. And - as often happens at conventions - by the end of it I'd added several new friends to the list, principally Steve Volk (who flew to Toronto and back with Tim & I, and who, by the end of the weekend, I felt I'd known for years), and Nate & Nicole Kenyon, who I spent most of Sunday evening chatting to when a bunch of us went for a meal in the revolving restaurant at the top of the CN Tower, which I'm reliably informed is the tallest building in the world (and which has a glass floor, through which you can look hundreds of feet down to the ground below. Gulp).
Work-wise at WHC, I moderated a couple of panels and did a reading. My first panel was an interesting experience. It was on the Thursday night at 11pm (which for me was 4am Friday morning). I had woken up in a London hotel room at 7:00 that morning, and had said to Tim, who I was sharing the room with, "Hey, I've got a panel in 21 hours". We'd then done all the airport check-in stuff, flown to Toronto, got settled into the hotel, had a few drinks in the bar, been out for a meal (our fourth of that strange, elongated first day) and suddenly, jet-lagged and woozy, there I was trying to lead the discussion on a late-night panel attended by a rowdy, vociferous, enthusiastic audience. A bit of a baptism of fire, but great fun nonetheless. The theme of the panel was "What exactly is Horror?" An impossible question to answer, of course, but we did our best and (at least from the favourable comments I received afterwards) kept the audience entertained. I was ably assisted on that first panel by Michael Arnzen, Gary Braunbeck, Brian Keene and Deborah LeBlanc - lovely people, all. Fuelled by Brian Keene's Knob Hill (don't ask), we ultimately concluded that Horror couldn't be defined, because it meant different things to different people. A cop-out maybe, but the only possible answer. And so to bed.
For my reading on the Saturday afternoon I decided to do a chapter and a half of my forthcoming Leisure novel, The Deluge. It was the first time the material had had any sort of public airing, and it seemed to go down well (no one walked out or fell asleep, at any rate). I got a reasonably good audience - maybe fifteen or twenty people - and the reading venue was great: small, intimate, with round tables and an armchair for the reader to sit in if he or she wished to do so (though I stood; for some reason I can't read out loud sitting down). This, for me, is one of the favourite parts of my job. I love doing public readings of my work - though the one bit I'm not keen on, if I'm reading a section from a novel, as I was here, is setting the scene in context. I always feel as though I blunder and fumble through this bit, either saying too much or too little. No one else seemed to notice, though - or if they did, they didn't admit it.
My final panel, at 10am on the Sunday morning (the traditional and much-loved hangover panel) was lots of fun. I really enjoyed this one. I was moderating again and had as my fellow panellists Pete Atkins, David Morrell, Yvonne Navarro and Tony Richards. Our theme this time was "Don't give up the day job: the current state of horror". This was one of those panels where everyone had a lot to say, the audience were attentive and interested and had tons of questions to ask, and where, to be honest, we could have rambled on for hours.
On the Saturday night, of course, was the traditional Stoker banquet, where I was up for an award for Cinema Macabre in the Best Non-Fiction Category. Awards are funny things. I never really think about them until about an hour before they're due to be presented, and then I get terribly nervous. As Pete Crowther had said at the PS Publishing party the night before, the only people who say awards aren't important are those who don't have any awards, and he's right. Awards - and award nominations - are a way of letting you know that your peers and your readers are aware of your work and they're enjoying what you're doing. Although Cinema Macabre got the biggest cheer when the nominees were read out (possibly something to do with all the drunken Brits in the audience), it didn't win. That, for me, now makes a personal tally of nine award nominations and nine defeats. Always the bridesmaid... I was disappointed for about five minutes, but felt better once I'd gone over and punched the winner in the face (that's a joke, by the way). After the banquet, myself, Steve Volk (who'd been up for Best Short Story) & Chris Golden (nominated for Best Novella) hosted a Losers Party in the bar.
Aside from all this fun and frivolity, I also did a good bit of business at the convention. I can't say too much at the moment in case it all collapses around my ears, but I had lunch with an editor at a major US publisher, which I'm hoping will lead to something, spoke briefly to my editor at Leisure, Don D'Auria, who seemed keen to see another horror novel from me for next year, and I also had a meeting with Paul Miller from Earthling, with a view to me writing something for their novellas range. All good stuff, and it means that I've got more than enough to keep me busy for at least the next year or so.
Since getting back from Toronto, I've been working hard on my Doctor Who novel, Forever Autumn, which is deadlined for the end of this month. I've only got about 8,000 words left to write now, so hopefully will be putting the finishing touches to it by this time next week, if not before. I've thoroughly enjoyed writing this. It's been a pleasure from start to finish. Once Doctor Who is out of the way, I've got some bits and pieces of editing to do on various upcoming projects, a few novel/novella proposals to thrash out, and then I'll be launching into my Hellboy novel, The All-Seeing Eye, which I'm also really looking forward to.
Before I go, a quick mention of an upcoming event: on Saturday 28th April I'll be appearing at the second Alt.Fiction Day at the Assembly Rooms in Derby. This is a day of panels, readings and workshops devoted to horror/fantasy/science-fiction. Last year's event was a huge success and this year's looks set to be even better. Organiser Alex Davis has gathered together an absolutely stellar line-up of genre folk, including the likes of Iain Banks, Ramsey Campbell, Stephen Gallagher, Graham Joyce, Pete Crowther, Sarah Ash, Mike Carey, Peter Hamilton, Mark Chadbourn, Harry Harrison...the list goes on. The whole thing starts at mid-day (I think) and finishes around 9pm. I'll be appearing with my old muckers, Tim Lebbon and Sarah Pinborough, at 7pm, where we'll each be doing a reading and answering questions from the audience. It should be a great day, so please come along if you can. All the information about the event can be found at www.derby.gov.uk/LeisureCulture/ArtsEntertainment/altfiction.htm
Oh, and if you do come, don't forget to set your videos for the Daleks on Doctor Who...
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