Date:	2008-04-10 11:04
Subject:	Some Thoughts, Random and Otherwise
Security:	Public
Mood:	groggy
Music:	Big Band/Swing Station

Date:	2008-03-18 11:41
Subject:	How’m I doing?
Security:	Public
Mood:	sleepy
Music:	Black Coffee

First off, thank you to everyone who sent me good wishes, shared personal anecdotes, or just empathized with my situation. I really appreciated what all of you had to say, and it helped a lot. Really!

The corner I turned back in January is now behind me, and I’m doing way, way better—in fact, this is the best I’ve felt since moving to Vernon. I’m getting a handle on the town, and I’m no longer seeing it through rose-colored glasses, but rather with more realistic expectations. You’d think that the drop in enthusiasm would be detrimental to me, but unfortunately, I seem to thrive on the slightly negative. Who knew?

Nevertheless, things are looking up. I am finding my joy and my bliss where I can, and trying not to think too hard about the other stuff that I can’t fix. At least, not by myself.

Date:	2008-01-07 08:39
Subject:	The Biggest Finn's Wake Update ever
Security:	Public
Mood:	good
Music:	A Little Less Conversation

Happy 2008!

Well, this is nice, isn’t it? Been a while since we’ve chatted. I’m thinking that it’s been far too long, and I really don’t know what to say. Wait, check that, I really do know what to say. Let me start at the beginning. This may well be the longest Finn’s Wake I ever wrote.

The General State of Things

First of all, a number of you have been wondering (a) what I’m working on now, and (b) why I don’t write more updates. The truth of the matter is that I have been in a state of crippling depression for much of the last year. It came about from a number of sources, but in a nutshell, it went down like this: I went from being well-connected in a major urban city with relatively minor responsibilities and a heavy creative output to being not-connected in a ridiculously small town with huge responsibilities and virtually no creative endeavors to speak of.

I feel gimpy even talking about the word “depression.” For a long time I didn’t even want to admit it to myself. I’ve never dealt with depression before (my teenage years don’t count; and anyway, I blame Pink Floyd). Not like this. Some days, I didn’t want to move. Some days, all I could do was eat. It was scary. But I still wasn’t talking about it. It felt like a weakness. And the absolute last thing I wanted to do was end up on medication.

Don’t get me wrong: I wanted to do this. I thought that it would be a small matter to just step into the role of theater owner and go to town. Oh, hell, was I wrong. I was so very wrong. The number of things that I didn’t know were legion. My learning curve, especially since we hit the ground running, was steeper than the stretch of Route 66 that did James Dean in. I wasn’t necessarily thrown to the wolves, but it sure felt like it. I had a concentrated knot in my stomach from Mid-March, when we first re-opened, to the first week in December. It’s been that bad.

Again, let me stress, this town is lovely. And we’ve made many great friends here, too; genuine people, who care and offer a helping hand, and listen to our troubles and in general bend over backwards to help us out. We know some folks, too; some of the local movers and shakers. We attend the city council meetings. It’s a big deal. Folks want to know what we think. This is, of course, diametrically opposite to Austin, where the city council doesn’t give a fig what the citizens are on about.  But in the end, it’s not Austin, is it? The culture shock was significant. Not having a bookstore that’s five minutes away (try an hour) is debilitating to someone like myself.

Add to that the challenges of trying to massage a business that has been down on the canvas twice already, and that pretty much ate up all of my free time. Cathy and I ate and slept the theater. We didn’t get away very often, and when we both did, we didn’t go very far. I had a couple of sabbaticals this year, but I found that within forty-eight hours of coming back, I was knotted up in my stomach again and unable to write.

That’s what shocked me the most this year. I was able to make myself sit down and write non-fiction; essays, reviews, introductions, etc. But fiction writing eluded me. I couldn’t get more than a page done at a time, and when I got up, I found that I couldn’t hold the story in my head. This “holding” skill is critical for writers; it’s why so many of us walk around with that gobsmacked look on our face all the time. It’s why our long-suffering wives choose strange times to discuss household chores and other mundane affairs with us—they are waiting until that far-off look in our eye winks out for a moment before rushing in with everything they’ve been holding back for two days.

I discovered that I was incapable of writing fiction while I was thinking about the theater. And since I lived above the theater, and since every single day brought a different responsibility to us regarding the theater, I was spending every day thinking about the theater, our financial situation, marketing, and literally nothing else. This, more than anything else, has been sheer agony for me.

The good news is this: I’m getting over it. My mother, the Jedi Knight, has done some work with me, and I’m now making some space for myself. The theater has become a rote endeavor (and I’ve learned as much as I have been able to absorb at this time), and it’s freed up my brain to work on other things. Life is again returning to the sleepy village. What this means is that fiction writing is close at hand—thank God. I’m adjusting, slowly adjusting, to the ridiculous and total life-change we undertook, and in retrospect, it’s surprising and goofy that it took me until a couple of months ago to realize that I was depressed. Doofus.

The Vernon Plaza Theater

I told you all of that to tell you this: we’ve made it one year! The theater is alive, and it’s viable, and it’s more or less well. We’re bringing in a couple of new innovations this year, and we’re still not in the black yet, but hey, it’s our first year. Now that I’m getting used to the idea of not being in the black, I’m relaxing my grip on my own spleen and concentrating on not going more in the red.

We’ve got some great things planned for this year. I’m going to try and do something that, as far as I know, no other independent movie theater has ever done. I’m getting paperwork together and doing some calculating so that we can create a little island whereupon movie-goers, upon exiting the Iron Man movie, will be confronted with three or four Iron Man trade paperbacks, a couple of action figures, Pez, and the like. This would apply to all of the big summer movies; trading cards, official souvenir magazines, etc. If it works, and I find that I can build a clientele out here for such geekery, well, I think you can figure out what comes next.

Also on our immediate horizon is a digital projector. This is mission critical in our arsenal of cool, and will allow us to do a lot more stuff in a more flexible manner; things like birthday parties (and the kids can play Halo on the big screen), college football games, stuff like that. Again, there’s nothing like it in the area, so we have a decided advantage on our competition.

In the near future, I’m going to post some pics on the website and you can all get a virtual tour of the place. In the meantime, just know that we’re doing all right, and the place is slowly but surely catching on with the folks in town again. We snag 2-5 new folks a week. It’s getting better; it really is!

So, What ARE You Working On?

Well, I’ve got a couple of irons in the fire right now: I just sent a proposal in to Del Rey for an expanded hardcover edition of Blood & Thunder. We’ll see how that flies. I’ve also been asked to adapt a movie script for comics. More on that later. Finally, I’m working on a couple of short stories with fellow Texas writer Scott Cupp. After that, I’m going to decide which novel I want to work on and pursue.

In the meantime, for those of you who are curious about such things, I’ve got my out-of-print collection Gods New & Used available for download on www.wowio.com, as do the other members of Clockwork Storybook. I’ll be adding more stuff from the old CWSB site in the coming weeks, but for now, you can get Gods New & Used for free—and I get paid for it! Truth!

Also, this year, I really want to get back to doing radio drama, both writing and performing. I’ve got some scripts that are all mapped out and need to be written, and I’ve got a couple of outstanding obligations to uphold. If I get through with those, maybe I can start on my one-man show idea. We’ll see.

 Currently, I’m still doing articles for Dark Horse Comics for their Conan trade paperbacks, which is a lot of fun. I was recently name-checked in the Best of Robert E. Howard, volume 1 introduction regarding the boxing fiction of REH. Also big fun. I still contribute as time permits to www.revolutionsf.com, and you really should swing by every so often to check it out. That I make no money from this writing, yet still try to do things for them, should be telling.

World Fantasy Awards

Some of you knew that I was nominated for a World Fantasy award for the REH biography. Well, I didn’t win it. There was, in retrospect, no way in hell that I was going to win it.  Here’s why. I was nominated in the Special Award: Professional category. Now, those two awards at the end of the nominations list: Special Award, Professional, and Special Award, Non-Professional, are intended to recognize folks who don’t fit into any of the other categories. In particular, Special Award, Professional was designed to honor publishers, editors, copyeditors, booksellers—heck, ANYONE not a writer of fantasy who contributed in some meaningful way that year. It was never supposed to be for non-fiction books. It’s just that, when non-fiction books are written onto the ballot, they end up there, having nowhere else to go.

So, in a year when Ellen Asher lost her job at the SF Book Club, after years of printing and reprinting everyone good in the field, and moreover her whole staff was let go without so much as a by-your-leave, you can see how there was NO WAY in hell that I was going to take home a statue, when the award was a far more perfect way to honor her thankless contribution to the field.

Is it fair? To Ellen, sure. It’s very fair, and she deserved to get the award. But what about to me and the other guy whose book garnered enough votes to make the top five? It doesn’t seem that fair, not really. But had I won instead, the industry would be calling it a travesty, because Ellen should have won it. Am I upset about it? Sort of, but not because I didn’t win. Rather, because there have been a number of good non-fiction books in the past few years that received no recognition, simply because of a lack of categorization. The judges for each year’s World Fantasy awards keep their own council on these matters, but basically, if the five of them decide to award a statue to someone, then their name is automatically added to the list, and no matter what the popular vote says, it’s going to go to who the judges want. That’s the attraction of a juried award. And Special Award: Professional is the very place to give such recognition.

The thing is this, though: if the judges have the chance to right a wrong, or acknowledge an oversight, as in the case of Ellen Asher, then they are going to do it. Again, that’s what the category is for. Anyway, I had a pretty good idea that I was on the outs. Having spoken to my fellow nominees, they all agreed that Ellen was going to get it. And every time I saw a judge, I watched a slight shadow pass across their eyes. No guilt, per se, but rather a shield of neutrality that they consciously put on so as not to give anything away.

The only part of this that doesn’t work is when you take something like a biography written (and let’s use the excellent James Tiptree, Jr. biography instead, since it was a book that also needed to be written and was nominated in similar categories last year), and compare it to what an editor does with a book line. That’s apples and oranges, and it creates a disparity within the category, since there is no way to really reconcile the two. In the end, of course, it’s the judges’ call, anyway. But wouldn’t it be great if they didn’t have to make such a call? Then a critical studies book AND a deserving editor could be recognized in the span of a year, and no one would kick about it.

In the end, I wrote an open letter to the WFC administration board asking that they add a non-fiction category, and was politely rebuffed. This is not over. Again, I’m not angry about it, but I really think that there’s an oversight here that could be easily and quickly addressed.

You Know What Tomorrow Is...

That’s right, it’s Elvis’ Birthday! And may I pass along my most sincere wishes for a happy and prosperous new year. Go forth and find your favorite Elvis movie, or just cue up one of his many fine albums. Shake a hip, eat a peanut butter and banana sammich, or shoot out a television set. It’s YOUR day tomorrow, so make the most of it. Me, I’ll be making my usual promises to the King and watching Viva Las Vegas.

Boy, that Anne-Margaret, she sure was something, wasn’t she?

Y’all be good, now.

Mark

Date:	2007-11-30 11:16
Subject:	An Open Letter to the Administrators of the World Fantasy Award
Security:	Public
Mood:	chipper

Dear Administrators:

Having participated in several World Fantasy conventions as a professional, up to and including having been nominated for the award itself, I would like to offer a few formal suggestions that I feel would be of great benefit to the award itself. It is my understanding that these suggestions have all been brought to the attention of the administrators before, but I still feel compelled to mention them again, as these are topics that seem to come up every year.

Guy Gavriel Kay said in his excellent Toastmaster speech that one of the things the World Fantasy Award does best is that it focuses on widening the reach of the genre. It’s in that spirit that I would like to recommend a new category, for Best Young Adult novel. There is an obvious and tangible overlapping of talent, interest, and subject matter regarding the Young Adult and Adult fantasy markets, and that line was forever blurred during the Harry Potter years. By creating a Young Adult novel category, the World Fantasy Award can take ownership of that acknowledgement; consider that no other major sf/f award currently honors YA authors.

Another area that adds to the credibility and legitimacy of the industry is that of non-fiction studies. Whether they are biographies, essay collections, or scholarly works from academic presses, there are more than enough books ABOUT the crafting of fantasy and its authors that merit their own World Fantasy award category, as well. Adding a Best Non-Fiction category not only abets the study of fantasy as its own serious endeavor, but it completely de-clutters the Special Award: Professional category, leaving it free to honor and acknowledge the professionals in the field who don’t normally receive recognition: Editors, retailers, copyeditors, publishers, and so on. Every year, non-fiction books are nominated in that category, for no other reason than they don’t have a category of their own. A Best Non-Fiction award solves that problem handily.

And speaking of the Special Award, I would like to recommend that both special awards be re-named to honor someone in the industry. The Special Award: Professional could honor a writer or editor who is no longer with us, and the Special Award: Non-Professional could likewise reflect a particularly influential fan or similar. Re-naming these two awards would make them more sound more professional and less “generic.”

I am sure there are other factors to consider when adding categories to the awards ballot beyond “it’s a really nifty idea,” but I sincerely hope the committee will consider these suggestions as both positive and constructive feedback and at least discuss them the next time they are able to do so. It may be too late for the 2008 awards, but surely one or more of these suggestions could be implemented for 2009? In any case, thank you for your time and attention.

Most sincerely,

Mark Finn

Date:	2007-10-09 23:42
Subject:	World Fantasy Convention Bound
Security:	Public
Mood:	groggy

Despite formidable odds and some overwhelming pressures of the fiscal/filial variety, I have paid for my membership to WFC this year, confirmed my hotel, bought airline tickets, and even managed to squeeze on a panel. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I am NOT to be trifled with.

A more full and robust report is coming.

Date:	2007-09-28 13:27
Subject:	A bite in the ass month
Security:	Public
Mood:	contemplative
Music:	My Hero Zero--Schoolhouse Rock

It's been tough, this past month. Lots of Theater-Related things happened that put us on the defensive, and really shook the foundations of our lives here in Vernon. Suffice to say, we're okay. For now. But it wasn't easy. It wasn't pretty. And we're still not out of the woods, yet.

But one thing that is certain: I would NOT have been able to make it without you guys, my friends. Maybe you did something to cheer me up; maybe you didn't. But you all contributed in some way to keeping me afloat. So, thank you.

Thanks to SarahM for forcing me to join yet another social network, but since it's all about books, it kinda doesn't count, and

Thanks to Peggy for linking me up on Said Social Network with an author's page, some friends, and a crapload of books.

Thanks to Jenna for calling and letting me do a fifteen minute monologue on modern teenagers. You laughed, and you made my day.

Thanks to Rick for calling and giving me a dose of guy-talk.

Thanks to Lucas for being my big brother when I really needed it.

Thanks to James for always being a positive influence on me, as well as giving me a chance to wax intellectual about Conan and Solomon Kane.

Thanks to Chris for the good news about Blood & Thunder. I sold some books! Yeah!

Thanks to Beth and Weldon for, well, all of the support and encouragement, as well as passing along the REH news. It was quite the spirit-lifter.

Thanks to Rusty for the surprise shout-out in The Best of Robert E. Howard: Volume 1 introduction. I got credited (along with Chris Gruber) with the revival of attention to Howard's funny boxing stories.

Thanks to Brad for the recognition regarding Austin Books' success. I love the whole Bankston family like my own.

There were other incidents, some small, some large, and some really random. But they all kept me going, and kept my chin up. It has been said that we are judged by the company that we keep. If that is the case, than I am one of the most fortunate men on the planet.

Date:	2007-08-23 15:26
Subject:	I'm probably not the first one to notice this...
Security:	Public
Mood:	geeky
Music:	Warren Zevon "My Ride is Here"

But just on the off-chance that someone ever decides to do a Robert Heinlein bio-pic...










Would they look any further than to David Thewlis for the lead role?









Talk about "Separated at birth," eh? Ah, well, we can all dare to dream...

Date:	2007-08-21 10:02
Subject:	Not a Leg Lamp, but Still a Major Award
Security:	Public
Mood:	hungry
Music:	Willie Nelson

At the behest of several folks, I decided to do a trip recap of my recent sojourn to ArmadilloCon, by way of the Greyhound Bus system. This was, of course, a major mistake, and one that I won’t repeat again, may God strike me dead if I’m lying. 

Date:	2007-08-07 15:33
Subject:	ArmadilloCon et. al.
Security:	Public
Mood:	crappy

It’s been a while since the last update, and while there’s some neat stuff going on with regards to the Vernon Plaza Theater, it’s just business as usual on the other side of that. I’m struggling with a writing schedule, after spending almost 10 months without one. But I am working on things as my time allows. In fact, I’ll be reading one of those things at ArmadilloCon this weekend. Here’s my schedule, for those of you in attendance:

Sa1000De Expect Unexpected Evil

Sat 10:00 AM-11:00 AM DeWitt

Carl*, Gould, Kimbriel, Klages, Utley, Sturges, Finn

Sometimes our antagonists aren't always who they

appear to be. What are some of the most unusual

antagonists in literature and what tools did the

author use to make them that way?

Sa1200De Revolution SF 

Sat Noon-1:00 PM DeWitt

Klaw*, Finn, Bey, Wilson, Blaschke, Porter

Being an editor for a small SF site can be

challenging.

Sa1500R Charity Auction

Sat 3:00 PM-5:00 PM Robertson

Finn*, Babcock

Last year we made a record amount of money for our

charity. Come by this year and help us spread the geek

love to the world!

Sa2200Dz What is the island?

Sat 10:00 PM-11:00 PM de Zavala

Babcock*, Davis, Levine, Nevins, Finn, Orive

For fans of Lost, this gives you a chance to discuss

the  show with other fans and professionals and hear

their  thoughts on what happened, will happen and

won't happen. 

Su1000De Liar's Panel: Hard Science

Sun 10:00 AM-11:00 AM DeWitt

Lake*, Finn, Archer, McHugh, Nevins

Panelists attempt to come up with the most outrageous

claims about hard science in writing, films and

television.

Su1330R Reading

Sun 1:30 PM-2:00 PM Robertson

Mark Finn

Note that the reading is on Sunday, which is great for you, as there will be not much else going on, and shitty for me, in that I will most likely be hung over and hoarse. But if you haven’t attended a Finn reading, you need to do so, because I’m really really good at it.

Hope to see you there!

Date:	2007-07-23 12:44
Subject:	Harry Potter 7 and so forth
Security:	Public
Mood:	determined

For those of you who have read the book already, I've got an article up about it right here on RevolutionSF.com, and YES, for the Love of God, it contains Spoilers out the wazoo.

Don't click it if you haven't read it. Seriously.

Spoilers.

Lots of them.

Date:	2007-07-13 01:38
Subject:	Some thoughts on the Fifth Harry Potter Movie
Security:	Public
Mood:	sleepy
Music:	John Williams' HP score, of course

Do I really need to give you spoiler warnings? I mean, you're reading the books already, right? Right?! If you aren't, just skip this whole thing and get back to me when you're caught up.

Okay, now.

For the rest of us...

This being the fifth movie of seven, I found it to be as exciting and interesting as the fourth movie, wherein we are forced to jettison all of the sub-plots, side trips, and tangents, as well as the world-building bits of business, to concentrate on the Main Plot of good versus evil. Is that bad? No, not really. But watching Four and Five so soon after reading Four and Five really drives home how much condensing and tightening the filmmakers are doing to get this book series on the screen.

One of the things that interests me is how the movies have informed my re-reading of the books--Gary Oldman, for example, filling in handily for whomever I originally saw as Sirius Black, and with the re-reading of book five, I was expecting some great scenery chewing between him and Alan Rickman in THIS film, but apparently, there just wasn't time. Seems like there was a lot of those types of scenes excised in the interests of time. And the movie is over 2 hours long, at that. Draco gets two scenes, and for god's sake, don't blink or you'll miss them. Actually, what did work well was the montage scene, wherein we get a lot of info in short order. Unfortunately, doing it that way cuts short the first MacGonagal/Umbrage fight. In fact, it doesn't really happen. Not like in the books. Sigh.

By the way, Gary Oldman pulls off one of the best winks in the history of the universe. His eye doesn't even close! Watch for it. It's breathtaking. And may I just say that I have a new wizard crush: Tonks is a RoboBabe, and I'll fight anyone who says different. Helena Bonham Carter is note-perfect as Bellatrix, and really, did anyone think she wouldn't pull it off? Please.

All that aside, there's a shoe waiting to drop that never quite does so. I can't imagine how they will make that mess of Book Six into a film. Flashbacks are SOOOO entertaining, after all. At least this movie begins with a dementor attack and ends with a big honking wizard duel. Overall, this movie (and the last one) more than anything accomplish the goal of acting as highlight reels for the books, and don't quite stand on their own two feet as films. The only thing that saves them is the fact that everyone on the planet knows they are chapters in a seven part story that WILL (hopefully) make sense when it's all said and done. If the filmmakers are smart, they will film six and seven back to back and release them nine months apart.

Maybe I'm just antsy waiting for the seventh and final book.

Date:	2007-06-19 12:49
Subject:
Security:	Public
Mood:	dorky
Music:	Mister Mister--unfortunately

In preparation for the seventh Harry Potter book, I’ve taken in upon myself to re-read the other six. This is the first time that I’ve done so since each book was released (well, to be fair, I jumped onto the HP bandwagon just prior to book four). It’s been very interesting to re-read the stories, after the films have come out, and knowing in hindsight what I do of the story.

What follows are my thoughts on each of the books, followed by a ranking of 1 to 6, in the order that I liked them from best to worst. I can’t conceive that some of you out there haven’t seen the movies nor read the books, so I’m going to do the LJ-cut thingie. 

I can hear them downstairs, moving around in the theater. The sound actually carries up through the bricks and the concrete. Of course, most of the building is hollow, because of the return air vents, so their shuffling and scritching are multiplied tenfold.

The metal door is holding, and I don't think they will ever think to walk into the room where the crawlspace is. As long as we're careful and keep the doors locked, we should be able to hold out for a while. It's night now, and the police station is deserted across the street. Nothing is moving on the square. Some view.

Cathy is already worried about food and water. I don't quite know what to tell her. We're going to have to get clever, and pretty quick, too. Maybe scramble up to the roof. I don't know. We're sleeping in the living room tonight, our backs to the window overlooking the square, our eyes staring at the two doors that keep us from becoming food. Or worse.

There's so much I wanted to say. So much I wanted to do. Don't know if that'll ever happen, now. We are done for. Even if we survive, we are going to have to start from scratch. And I'll have better things to do than this.

Date:	2007-06-12 13:07
Subject:	A small (but kinda big) Finn's Wake update
Security:	Public
Mood:	groggy
Music:	something indistinct in the other room

It’s been a busy month, and I’m sorry I haven’t sent something out sooner. But it’s with a pretty good reason or two. Hopefully, this will make up for it all.

I got a call from Bill Willingham in April. He had an interesting proposal for me: “I’m renting the Rudyard Kipling house in Vermont, and I’m inviting you, Matt, Chris, and Bill Williams to come up and have a writer’s retreat here.”

When I told Cathy that this would be the first-ever Clockwork Storybook reunion in several years, all she said was, “You gotta go.”

That’s why I married her, right there, folks.

The Trip to Vermont Starts right here: http://finnswake.livejournal.com/35644.html

Pictures of the Vermont excursion can be found here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/finnswake/sets/72157600222004855/

In other news, I’ve won one and a quarter Cimmerian Awards this year: http://www.thecimmerian.com/?p=685

The whole award I won was for Blood & Thunder. I’m really pleased, since this award comes from my peers in the REH community. The other award, I’m sharing with my fellow bloggers at The Cimmerian website; we won the award for best website with our group blog. I ended up accepting for all of us, but only because Rob and Leo wouldn’t get up to do it. Still, it’s pretty cool and very flattering.

I won’t know until next weekend how the Locus Awards shook out. I doubt that I’ll be called upon to provide a mailing address for the trophy, however. And it won’t be until the end of the month that we’ll find out if Blood & Thunder was nominated for a World Fantasy award. I’m deliberately not thinking about either one; it does no good to dwell on such things. Really, I’m just happy about my third Cimmerian along with the nomination in Locus. There may be a hardcover edition yet, if the buzz keeps up.

The theater is, of course, doing very well. We’re busy, and the attendance is great, and the money is tight, and it’s all very First Year in Business, now, isn’t it? Seriously, there’s a lot of blood, sweat, and tears but it’s all for the best. Now that we’re settling into the groove, the Plaza Loft is getting worked on and some of our other projects are starting to shape up. The summer is being very good to us, so far (go knock on some wood, will you?), and we’re overall very pleased that our first year is going as well as it has so far.

Okay, that’s the big news. I’m going to let you get back to your day, now.

Date:	2007-05-17 09:20
Subject:	Back from Vermont...
Security:	Public
Mood:	aggravated
Music:	holdover Jazz from the VT trip

...more or less. I'm still missing my luggage, and I'm girding my loins for yet-another fight with American Eagle, the puddle jumpers for American Airlines. Wish me luck. Soon, I'll back date my journal with tagged entries so everyone can know the love that is Brattleboro, VT and the Clockwork Storybook reunion. There may be pics, luggage retrieval pending.

Instead of re-typing the whole saga, I'm just going to cut-and-paste the complaint letter I drafted to American Airlines. Those of you who know me can hear the tone with which this was written. Everyone else can just sorta fill in your own rant-voice instead.

The trouble started on May 15^th, 2007. I was flying from Hartford, CT to Wichita Falls, TX. I booked this flight myself. From Hartford to Chicago-Midway, I flew Southwest with no problems. I changed planes (and airlines, as per Southwest) in Chicago, to ATA, for the trip to DFW. It was in Chicago that things started to go wrong.

First, the weather. Rain delays kept my plane from landing in Chicago. There was lightning and thunder. As a result, my plane, scheduled to depart at 4:00, didn’t leave Chicago until 6:15 PM. This wouldn’t have been a big deal, except...

1. SOUTHWEST apparently didn’t check my bag all the way through to Wichita Falls. I later learned that they don’t do this, because they aren’t playing nice with the other airlines for some reason. So, my one piece of luggage was checked only as far as Dallas-Fort Worth. I had resigned myself to getting my checked bag, and making the hike back through security to American Eagle (three concourses away) in the hour and forty minutes layover time I originally had in DFW.

Now, because of the rain delay, that didn’t happen.

I spoke to the flight attendant on my flight and told her my dilemma. She looked at my itinerary and consulted with some folks, and then when we landed, radioed the gate that I needed some help. We touched down at 8:10 exactly—the time my flight to Wichita Falls was scheduled, three concourses away.

I got of the plane, where my itinerary (and sole luggage claim check) had been passed on to another member of ATA’s staff. He said to me, as I approached him, “We’re going to move your bag. Go, Go, Go to your gate!”

So I hustled to the sky train.

On the way, I realized that while I knew the concourse (B), I didn’t know the gate. I called AA, navigated past the robot lady, and got a human on the phone.

2. The AMERICAN AIRLINES rep on the phone told me the flight had already left the gate. I pressed her, and she grudgingly told me the gate number was B32. “B32?” I repeated, for the train was loud and we were both in a hurry. “B32,” she agreed, and I hustled to at the very least meet my errant luggage there.

Well, I stepped off the train, ran downstairs, and after a frantic few minutes, grabbed a security guard and asked him where B32 was. I could see B31, B30, B33, and so forth. He scratched his head and said, “There IS no B32. Do you have the right gate?”

Evidently not.

I checked the board, but of course, since the plane had left the gate, the gate number wasn’t up there. Discouraged, I went to the bag claim at American Eagle to wait for my bag. I told my story to the nice woman, who immediately tried to help me find the bag. She started calling people (and in the meantime, she looked up what gate I was supposed to have left from—B36. “Those people on the phone never know what’s what,” she said conspiratorily).

While she was trying to find my luggage, I called American Airlines back and tried to reschedule my flight. What happened next really stunned and shocked me.

3. The American Airlines rep (who’s name I lamentably cannot recall) didn’t want to hear my story. She just wanted to know the number of the flight I had missed. When she looked it up, she said, “Mister Finn, you were marked down as a no-show for that flight.”

“I’m not a no-show,” I said. “I tried very much to make it, but there was bad weather in Chicago, see, and that delayed my flight.”

More tapping. “Well, where are you now?” she asked.

“In DFW,” I told her.

“Well, your flight was 11 minutes late in leaving the gate, so why did you miss it?” She was now taking a tone with me, like how my 9^th grade English teacher used to ask me why I didn’t have my homework.

I said, “I was running for the gate. It’s a long way from where I was to where I ended up. Different concourses.”

“Oh, I see, you weren’t flying with us the whole way,” she said.

“No, I had to change planes.”

“So, then, it wasn’t our fault.”

“No, I blame the weather,” I told her.

“Well, YOU made it sound as if we cancelled your flight, Mister Farr-Nash.”

My frustration was peaking. I said to her, “Why don’t we start over? And let me tell you what happened.”

We went to neutral corners and I again tried to explain myself. “But Mister Finn, you’re a no-show for this flight. Why didn’t you call us?”

“Lady, I was running for the gate!” I yelled, all composure now gone.

In a much quieter tone, she said, “Sir, I’m only trying to tell you what the computer says...”

“Okay, listen, what are my options?” I asked.

“Pfft. Not many,” she said. “There are no more flights to Wichita Falls tonight.”

“Yeah, I figured. What about tomorrow?”

“Well, now I have to get a supervisor because you’re a no-show and didn’t call us to say you’d be late...”

“Fine. Go get your supervisor.”

Click. And now I’m on hold.

The baggage lady, having heard my entire side of this, said, “I can reserve a seat for you on the flight tomorrow?”

“Do it,” I told her. I hung up. (MY FAULT: I really should have talked to the woman’s supervisor. She was snotty, and rude, and made the whole thing sound like I was the bad guy).

The baggage claim lady reserved me a spot, and then told me that she couldn’t locate my luggage. I got some numbers from her for people to call and then got lodging in Fort Worth for the night.

4. I showed up at the airport the next day, went to American Eagle, and of course, they couldn’t find me in the system. I told them what happened. She called her supervisor, and they charged me an additional 145 dollars to ride a flight that wasn’t even half-filled.  I was royally peeved, but I wanted to get home. They sensed my frustration, and told me when I got to my final destination that I could make a lost baggage claim and talk to someone about the double fare. Before I made my gate, I checked in at American Eagle’s baggage counter, just to be sure—no bag. But, said the lady, she’d keep an eye out for it. She wrote down my name and phone number.

5. I get off the plane in Wichita Falls—and it’s only American Eagle, from the looks of it, with seven commuter flights to DFW per day, and I proceed to tell HER my story. She gives me a printout with your website on it, since you don’t have anyone I can talk directly to. Classy. She also tells me that she can’t file a baggage claim, since it was never checked through to them. Instead, she gives me some more phone numbers to call.

6. I spend approximately four hours learning how the interior workings of airport baggage claims work, on my own, since American Airlines hasn’t yet lifted a finger to help me and furthermore charged me for a flight that they should have just let me on, since I missed my original flight due to no fault of my own.

7. Finally, I tracked my luggage down to the ATA in DFW counter. The woman told me it had been there all day (meaning, it NEVER made it to American Eagle). I appreciated that the folks on ATA tried to help me out, but they didn’t follow through with what they said they would do. If they had told me they couldn’t do anything, I would have understood, grabbed my luggage, and tried to salvage the flight with American Airlines. But they didn’t. They said one thing, and did another. In any case, the baggage claim lady told me she’d send it over to American Eagle. Awesome, I thought. The lady would see the bag, and she’d just send it to Wichita Falls.

8. The next day, I called AA to find out the status of my lost bag. No one knew anything. The woman I talked to called DFW and Wichita Falls, and no one knew anything. She was also puzzled as to why I haven’t made an official baggage claim. I told her that NO ONE would take it. It was always someone else’s problem...either mine own, or the person at the NEXT leg of my journey. She said, “Well, without your claim tag number, we can’t even do anything for you.” She apologized for my incompetence a few times—after all, I’m brand-new to the whole “Track your own bag through the inner workings of DFW” thing—and then she hung up.

Now in a full-blown panic, I called ATA at DFW back and left a message. They still have not returned my call.

Bottom line: I’ve been flying for over fifteen years. I used to do it a lot, but now it’s mostly for vacations. This is the first time I’ve ever missed a flight, and also the first time I’ve ever lost my luggage. I know, it was probably just dumb luck on my part. But your Airline made me feel like this has never happened before in the history of American Airlines, and that I deliberately did these things to screw up the inner workings of your company. I’ve not been helped satisfactorily YET by anyone in your organization. And if this is not taken care of in the next 24 hours, I will move heaven and earth to never fly with your airline again. Moreover, I will endeavor to tell everyone that I know, from best friends to local acquaintances, never to use your airline again. I’ll Ride the Bus to DFW before I get on another American Eagle plane, for any reason.

Date:	2007-05-14 11:59
Subject:	Monday--Hartford, CT
Security:	Public
Mood:	aggravated

I took the train from Brat to Hartford, CT (where I’ll be flying out). It seemed weird to do it this way, but it was essential for me to be able to get home at a decent hour. Also, I’ve never ridden on a train, and this was a perfect opportunity to do so.

Well, riding a train is only marginally more comfortable than riding a bus. But that margin does include better seats and a snack car where you can buy a drink and some peanuts, so it’s a big deal. Otherwise, the vibration of the tracks very closely mimics the horrible suspension systems in your average Greyhound.

I got out at Hartford, CT, and after a little gawking, chose the hotel closest to the train station. There wasn’t a clear advantage; the airport is far enough away that all of the taxis charge a flat rate to take you. So, after dumping my stuff in the Holiday Inn, I asked the standoffish kid at the desk what I should take a look at, since I’ve only got a half-day here.

“Well,” he said, snorting, “there’s the park, there.” He waved at the front door, through which could be seen lush green lawns across the street. “That’s our capital.”

Having lived in Austin for fifteen years, I wasn’t real impressed with capitals. “What else you got?” I asked.

“Well,” he said, “there’s the Mark Twain house...”

I perked up. “Yeah? Is it close?”

“Oh, sure,” he said. Then he looked me up and down and hastily amended, “I mean, it’s a bit of a walk.”

Ignoring the once-over, I asked, “Define ‘bit of a walk.’”

The kid scrunched up one side of his face, pirate style, as he thought about it. “Oh, only a couple of blocks.”

“A couple of blocks I can do,” I assured him. He looked dubious, but he gave me quick directions for getting under the underpass and then he left me to my fate.

I’ll show him, I thought, as I walked down the busy street. Only a couple of blocks. What a maroon. What does he think? I’m too fat to make it? Little asshole. I crossed the street, muttering darkly to myself, and then walked under the underpass as instructed. Up ahead, about a half a block away, was the street in question, veering off at a diagonal from the rest of the thoroughfare. There’s no way he could have meant a literal couple of blocks from the hotel. I mean, this is still industrial stuff, here. So I crossed the street again, now on the correct avenue, and proceeded post-haste to the Twain house, which I was now certain was only two blocks away from this goofball intersection.

I counted one block, and then two blocks. No house. No problem, I thought, walking quickly (it was around 4:30, and I was sure the house would close at 5 PM). It’s probably just up in the middle of the next block. A couple and a half of blocks.

No house. I walked another block. Big, huge buildings holding what looked like an insurance company on the left side, and small, low-income businesses like washeterias and convenience stores, pawnshops and dollar stores, on the right side of the street. Weird. But no Twain house.

I spied a guy waiting for a bus. I walked up to him; he clearly worked at the insurance company he was standing in front of. “Excuse me,” I said. He regarded me with angry indifference. “I’m trying to find the Mark Twain house, and I—”

“Keep going,” he said, indicating the direction I was already traveling. “It’s just a couple of blocks.”

Sure it was.

I didn’t believe him, but I kept going, figuring that I’ll get there eventually. It’s on the street, at least, so I had that going for me, if nothing else. I started counting blocks again. One block. Two blocks.

Now I’m standing in front of a Dunkin’ Donuts/Taco Bell combo, and I’m certain of two things: this is unequivocally not the Mark Twain house, and “a couple of blocks” is Hartford-speak for “I have no concept of distance; ask someone else.”

It was another two blocks before I spotted the enormous Mark Twain house. Easily as large as the Kipling house in square footage, also meticulously restored, with a long, sloping walk to the street. I hurried up the steps, grabbed the knob, and pulled.

It was closed.

I looked at the time: 4:45. I checked their sign. “Open from 9 AM to Sundown, Mon-Fri.” Maybe they just can’t hear me. I pounded on the door. Made a wide circle around the porch, peering into the windows. Nope. They were closed, all right. Sonofabitch.

By now, I needed to use the bathroom, and there was no way I was going to cross the street and attempt to get into any of the charming local businesses with that request. Thankfully, the bus line was right outside the Twain house and took me straight back to the hotel. On the way back, I counted the blocks—9, total, not including the funkiness at the underpass. As I trundled back into the lobby, the kid who gave me the directions was noticeably missing. It was probably for the best.

Date:	2007-05-13 11:25
Subject:	Sunday--last day for everyone
Security:	Public
Mood:	recumbent
Music:	Louis Jordan--How High Am I

With the excitement of everyone being together again worn off, we settled down for another work session. I banged out two chapters, including the police interrogation that I’d been dreading. Matt and Willingham talked about Jack of Fables stuff and worked on their own projects. Chris did some proofreading and spot-checking. Williams dove back into an in-progress screenplay. An industrious day.

After lunch, everyone hiked down to the old barn, wherein lay a kind of self-guided tour of some of the house artifacts, along with large placards that either explained their significance or gave some of the history of Kipling and Brat. The placards gave no less than four different possible reasons why Kipling only stayed four years and never returned after he departed. We left the barn with more questions than answers. On the way back, I tried a different trail to get to the main house and stumbled across what looked like a small shrine, except that the shrine was crowned with an old, worn, plastic sculpture of Top Cat. Maybe there's a Joseph Barbara fan out somewhere. I don't know. But I took a picture of it, since it was easily the second-oddest thing I'd seen on this trip, after Crabhands.

It was Chris’ turn to cook, and I volunteered to be his wingman for the outing. We set up something that he could bang into the oven and walk away from: roast beef and veggies. Simple, but efficient. There wasn’t much of our food this week that we didn’t convert to sandwich form by the end of each meal. Men. Go figure.

At dusk, we trudged out through the pergola to the spooky altar-looking site and we toasted the reunion, and inducted Bill Williams into our little cabal. We are now officially a pentacle (old CWSB reference), so I’ll leave it to you folks to decide who gets to be Rosemary.

The evening concluded with a large reading session. Everyone got some valid critiques in, as well as a nice concentrated dose of shop-talk. Williams remarked, “It’s been pretty fun. Kinda like visiting someone else’s family reunion.”

So, what came out of this whole thing?

Well, getting back into contact with everyone was paramount. We did have a good time when we were together, and by setting up our rules about writing and critiquing well in advance and also separately from our friendships, it has created a kind of killing floor that we can throw anything onto and see if it survives. Having that kind of honesty available to your creative work is essential as a writer. Being able to get that kind of honesty from real friends is exceedingly rare.

The singular experience of spending a week in the hull of Kipling’s personal ship was one of the coolest for me, ever—it ranks right up there with eating lunch in the Robert E. Howard house, at the dining room table, on his birthday. Uniquely special in its significance.

On a more slight and personal note, I needed the break from the theater. Or rather, I needed the space to re-establish my writing routine.  I missed Cathy and the like, but getting to be nothing but writerly for a week was nothing short of divine.

Also, it was my first trip to Vermont. Check one more state off of my official score card.

Tomorrow, I start back home.

In the light of day, we took Chris back around the house and grounds, a tour we never seemed to tire of. He was duly as impressed as the rest of us. After all, we’re sharing the same physical space as Rudyard by-god Kipling. I mean, wow.

Since Chris and Matt are smokers, we ended up on the porch for a few hours total during the day, discussing stories, philosophies of writing, styles, schools, and rules to live by and also to break. We also talked about Buffy and Firefly, comic books, fantasy and science fiction, weird things that authors do, Kipling, Burroughs, told artist and writer anecdotes, and tried our hardest to out-story, out-laugh, and outdo one another. Stories were read and critiqued, some with a gentle savagery that I know I dearly missed.

Part of my day was spent getting a massage. I picked up a knot in my back prior to traveling, and it did nothing but get worse as the week progressed. I woke up Friday with real problems (sleeping in Not-my-own-Bed) in my mid- to lower back. So, I found a Wellness Center and spent an hour getting beaten up by Summer. She obligingly walked her elbows over my various lumps and knots and more or less got me back into fighting shape. I still have that niggling knot under my shoulder blade; the original knot, at that. Maybe it’s part of stress. Maybe more. I don’t quite know.

In any case, I got back to the house in time to polish a chapter and then we settled in to eat, discuss, drink, read, and critique. It’s been heavenly. Matt made pork tenderloin with vegetables and it was awesome. We’re eating like kings and debating like warrior poets.

Date:	2007-05-11 10:42
Subject:	Day Five--Clockwork Reunited
Security:	Public
Mood:	relieved
Music:	Mingus Dynasty...man, that guy was good

All week, we’ve been taking turns cooking. Breakfast has been communal; he who is in the kitchen, conscious and moving, gets whatever the cook is making. Lunch has been catch-as-catch can, either leftovers or sandwiches, or whatever else is in the house. But dinner has been a great trade off. Tonight was Willingham’s turn to cook, and he made a chicken and rice dish that was expansive and comforting.  Prior to that, I made an Italian stroganoff dish and Williams made chili. We are fairly swimming in man-food over here.

Today was a light work day. With Matt back in the mix, we all did a lot of fiddling around, gravitating to one another and getting very little done. I revised and rewrote everything to date, which was productive, and finished outlining the main plot, which was gratifying. Williams and Sturges worked on their respective comic projects, and Willingham polished and re-wrote some, but he was just as distracted as I was. It was too much fun with Matt in the house.

We all stayed up late, waiting on Chris to arrive. He did so at roughly 11:30, and we sat out on the porch, Clockwork complete, and proceeded to immediately re-connect the old neural network of our communal brain. The old jokes, the old jibes, and even the old roles were effortlessly resumed as if we hadn’t ever been apart. It was a pleasant feeling, like when you find a lucky T-shirt in your closet, slip it on and it just “feels” right.