Contest Winners, Comics, Interviews, ISBW & a Guest Blog from David J. Williams

The big fat contest has ended and I am pleased to announce the two winners, they are:

  • Christel
  • Jena

I have already sent out the emails. Thanks to everyone for playing and I promise to do more contests in the future. Entrants were selected via a random number generator with every entry receiving a number in the order that I received it. There were 92 entries total. Thank you all for playing!

Guest Blog: David J. Williams

So, Gentle Reader, my friend Mr. David J. Williams has a new book out right now, the last in his series. I asked him to pop by for a bit of a guest blog. He chose pretty odd subject matter for the blog, namely, me. I’ve interjected my own commentary in italics (because I do rather love italics), in the manner of old friends the world over recalling times past.

Doesn’t he have the coolest titles?

She wasn’t Gail back then. This is, in fact, true. I was masquerading as someone else entirely.

She was in disguise. If memory serves I was in exercise gear, which is a kind of disguise as I should never wear such a thing in pubic at any convention ever again, and shouldn’t have then, except it was about 7 AM on a Saturday morning and I didn’t think any other convention attendees would be awake yet.

Of course, we recognized each other anyway. He was wearing such a nice blazer. I figured he had to be a visiting businessman and nothing to so with the SF/F world. I thought I might make friends so I could warn him of the immanent madness of fandom about to rise from the dead. We were in line at the Starbucks at WorldCon 2006, in Los Angeles, and had plenty of time to get acquainted. This is true, tell no one about the Starbucks, nothing else was open. The baristas were taking their time. . . probably because Gail had ordered a particularly intricate tea concoction ~ but she did so with such a charming smile that none could refuse her. While this herbal alchemy was going on, we got to talking. And rapidly realized that we were after the same thing. Something we both longed for. Something we desired with every fiber of our being.

A #$# publishing deal. We may have even used such language, remember this was early in the mourning before caffeine.

Yes, we were aspiring writers. Or wannabees. Call us what you will, we didn’t care. We’d each come to Worldcon to hustle and look for that one break that would allow us to get our manuscript in front of the right person. In my case it was also to wear some really cute shoes. I’d just finished mine; smoke was still drifting from my red-hot keyboard. I felt I had a ticket to the most exclusive club in the world. But first I had to find a way to cash it. In the most precise sense of the word, I was an amateur. As was Gail.

But she looked like a total pro. He lies, I was in an exercise bodysuit, blinking blearily and under-caffeinated.

Here’s a hint to those of you trying to make headway at a con: watch Gail. She’d chosen a particularly alluring shade of azure to dye her hair that weekend, and “the girl with the blue hair” was a damn sight more memorable to the editors at the various parties than yet another guy with glasses (me). This is true. I’m a natural bluenette, all brown hair is fake. In fact, I didn’t even realize the parties were the place to be. And if I had, I’m not sure I would have had the guts to go. Later that night I crashed the Tor party, met every famous author there, and several editors. None of whom were destined to remember me, despite the blue hair, but I had a great time. I was wandering from panel to panel, deer-in-headlights at my first-ever science fiction con. Amazingly enough, this craptastic strategy actually worked; I met my future agent at one of the panels, and was able to somehow fast-talk her. Dave’s good at fast talking. Ladies, watch out. James Bond-meets-Eternal-Sunshine-of-the-Spotless-Mind I said; send me the partial, she said. What’s a partial I almost said, but restrained myself as she wandered off, leaving me wondering what just happened. I do not have this kind of guts. It was slush pile city for me for the nest two years.

Four years later, I’m still trying to figure it out. With Bantam Dell’s release last week of The Machinery of Light, the hybrid espionage/cyberpunk trilogy that began with The Mirrored Heavens and continued with The Burning Skies is at last complete, as the saga of rogue hacker Claire Haskell reaches its conclusion:

But for my aspiring-writer-turned-pro comrade it’s just beginning. The newly crowned princess of steampunk circles the world in her airship for the honor of Greyskull!, dispensing prose as scintillating as her outfits, her entourage larger than any of the parties at that long-ago WorldCon. Except that Tor party, which really was packed. The Victorious Parasol has triumphed at last. But some of us saw it coming long ago…

Learn more about the world of the early 22nd century at autumnrain2110.com

Thanks for the guest blog, Dave! I leave it up to you, Gentle Reader, to decide the truth of the matters reported above. If you like super-fast paced hard core sci-fi action, give his books a whirl. Careful though, they are apt to leave one rather dizzy.

Quote of the Day:
“There are no rules in writing. There are useful principles. Throw them away when they’re not useful. But always know what you’re throwing away.”
~ Will Shetterly


Posted by Gail Carriger

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