Do the Creep! (Actually...don't. Stand over there. Farther. Much farther. Go till I can't see you. That's better.)

The big convention event of my social calendar is quickly approaching this week. Convergence in Minneapolis, MN has been my go to science fiction convention for the last three years now. It's a blast. Primarily because of the great panels, the networking with fellow writers, the killer sci-fi themed room parties, and let's not forget the scantily clad girls in costumes whose only desire is to please your every perverted whim.

Yesssssss!

Wait. That last one's not a thing?

No. And, despite what you may think, it never was.

Don't get me wrong. There are girls at Convergence who wear scantily clad costumes, maybe even for attention (I don't know, I'm not them, I can't speak for them, I'm just not ruling that reason out completely because humans are complex), but even if they have a need for every eye in the room to be glued to their person, they are not saying it's okay for you to proposition them.

Convergence has a great motto in place that they remind you of constantly:

The robot gives a better performance than Scarlett Johansson.

These posters are up in every hallway of the convention center. Simple and straight to the point. But even if costumes aren't involved, they have a general one too:

Robots...in Victorian corsets? Hope this doesn't wake something in me.

You may ask yourself, "Nate, does a convention for geeks really need these reminders? Shouldn't common sense play a huge part here?" to which I reply, "Do you even know which group we're talking about?!"

That's not quite fair. Since the rise of technology and the internet bringing people closer together more people than ever proudly fly their geek flags, much to the chagrin of purists who consider the term being bastardized by this grand expansion. What I'm trying to say here is the stereotype, by and large, is gone. People of all kinds go to sci-fi conventions, some more hard core and close to the stereotype, others average Joe's and Jane's who just want to connect with some like-minded individuals.

The problem is that despite these different kinds of geek, one constant remains. We're a group of people who predominantly live inside our own minds. It comes with the territory. We can, if you pardon me borrowing SyFy's (ugh, that name) slogan, "imagine greater." A propensity for stories and games that require a fertile imagination cultivate that. So what you have are people who always think in what ifs? What if I ask her this question? What if I touch her there? They also play scenarios five steps in advance, often skewing the picture in their head with reality. She's dressed like a sluttier version of Jessica Rabbit, if that were even possible, so clearly that means she wants me to kiss her. No, bad geek, to the corner with you.

The only "what if" question everyone should be asking in these situations is what if this person was my boss, or a fellow coworker? What if I was in a job interview with this person right now? What if my mother were standing five feet away? Would I really act the way I'm acting right now? If the answer is no, congrats, you're being creepy. Kindly apologize, walk away, and make amends to be better next time. This goes for people in costumes, guests of the con, anybody. We all deserve to have a good time. Like Convergence says, "Don't harsh the squee."

The reason this I'm even writing about this is because of what happened to Elise Matthesen at WisCon last weekend. I'm not going to rehash anything, it's been talked about extensively. You can read about it here courtesy of John Scalzi. Also a great how-not-to creep from Maria Dahvana Headley here. I've seen enough to know that it happens at Convergence too. The notices are needed. 

To end this cheery post let me make something clear. You see anyone you think looks cool in their costume, you like their writing, whatever, by all means go up to them, introduce yourself and give them your complement, if they're wearing a costume and you want to take a picture ask, if yes great, if no, no arguments, have a nice conversation and when there is a lull, WALK AWAY. You'll be a lot cooler if you do. 

  

Brain Crack is Whack

I'd like everyone to take a moment and think about the last time you had a question, about anything, and didn't immediately have an answer. Thanks to the smart phone generation we can access vast information networks anytime we want at the touch of a button and BOOM! the fat guy who died in Star Wars name was Porkins, or BOOM! terminal velocity of a human is 117mph.* 

I recently had a moment where I desperately needed the internet to solve a dumb question for me. Being a child of the 80s there are several fragments of bizarre television shows half-remembered in my brain. This particular one was about a girl who had special powers and an uncle who resembled Newman from Seinfeld.

Newman!

Now, pre-internet, hell, pre-Youtube a thing like this would be hard to track down. I distinctly remember seeing the show only a handful of times. A couple of times when I was a kid, and then years later when I was waiting in line for the King Kong ride at Universal Studios Florida. They had cut snippets of this show into the line video, and being the wait for this particular ride was an hour and a half, I got to see the same clip over and over again. Thinking about that ride brought back memories of the show, and I had an overwhelming need to find out what it was. After five minutes of searching I found this:

"Out of this World" was a syndicated sitcom that ran from 1987 to 1991 and stared a much hotter version of the mom from "Even Stevens".

Then

Now

A guy who turns out looks nothing like Newman.

Newman?

And a child actress who played a little girl who found out she was half-alien and could freeze time by putting her fingers together. It was basically an 80s retelling of "Bewitched", a pre "Sabrina the Teenage Witch" if you will. Oh, and the guy who voiced her never seen alien father?

How you doin'?

 Burt freakin' Reynolds. Overall, it was a cheesy show that brought back some fun nostalgia, but the rediscovery of this show isn't what I wanted to focus on. 

The ease of finding it was kind of disturbing. I remember when I was in college I had a discussion with a dorm-neighbor about a different show. A cartoon that involved a kid who turned into a car depending on if he was hot or not. It took us an hour and talking with three different people before we discovered it was called "Turbo Teen." While it took longer to find I enjoyed the action of searching. It made the nostalgia even stronger and added enjoyment to the discussion. We now live in such a dispassionate age where discovery is so instantaneous it hardly means anything. As such we are always looking for that next factoid. When those cell phone commercials involving people roboticly spouting random facts came out a few years ago I turned to a friend and said, "Yep."

Hank Green of the Vlogbrothers calls this phenomenon brain crack. An obsession that comes with needing to know everything right away. I think we need to break away from that. Next time you want to know something go to the library and take some time looking into it, or talk to people. When you do that preface the discussion by telling them they can't use their smart phone. Work it out together. Involve multiple people. I think the interaction will do us all a world of good.  

*I actually had to search the terminal velocity of a human. Everyone knows who Porkins was.

"Video games are not art," said every wrong person ever.

So I've been playing this lately:

Goodbye social life!

It's pretty good. And by pretty good I mean God damn it's good. And by God damn it's good I mean I haven't left the couch in days*. What I'm trying to say is it's enjoyable. But more than that it's a great example of story telling. The first twenty minutes of this game do something most zombie movies never do, or just barely graze. They show the world systematically going to shit. No black outs, no coma waking up into a nightmare, but a grand tableau of the end of society as we know it. They show an event that in one moment establishes the motivations and attitudes of the main character and let you know why he is the way he is for the whole rest of the game. Talk about beginnings.

Every time a game of this magnitude comes out you get people who want to argue about games as art. Their argument is based on a game's interactivity robbing the participant of their subjectivity. You can't appreciate something as art if you're the one influencing it. Clearly these people have never gone to really great dinner theater before.

"The Last of Us" can skirt the issue based on the fact that the story is pretty firmly set on rails. You can take multiple paths to get to your destination, but ultimately events play out the way they do. But damn what events. I've always subscribed to the belief that if something that was created by somebody else invokes feelings, be they of any kind, you're looking at art. The feelings I get when looking at these digital creations make me happy, sad, scared, angry at the miseries that befall our protagonists. They tie me into a human connection with a bunch of 1s and 0s and for that I will gladly call "The Last of Us" art. Frogger can still go screw itself.

*Asterisks, as always, denote hyperbole.  

On Beginnings

So here we are. I always find it hard when beginning any writing venture for public consumption on the best ways to start. Starting is a problem for many writers as it means one of two things, sometimes equally horrible. You either start something and quit, the specter of writer's block scrapping another project, or you start something and you keep writing it, get past any notions of writer's block and have to think to yourself, "Well, what now?"

I'm more or less in that second camp. I'm sitting at 205 pages with an eye toward another hundred or so. It's exciting, being able to create something you enjoy. I've got no illusions of grander about what it is. It's a relatively simple fantasy story that appeals to the young adult set, but really, it's for anyone who wants to read it.

It's not the first time I've written a novel. Back in 2006 I completed a pirate novel that, while I was proud of it, was definitely written by a first-timer. The problem with being a first-time author is you become enamored with the world and the characters and when it comes time to slaughter them in the editing process I found I couldn't do it. This time around is different. I still like what I'm writing, but even as I'm writing it I imagine what I can do to make it even better. That's good stuff.

This blog is basically a warm-up exercise/recording of that process and other stuff that tickles my fancy. It will eventually turn into a record of the selling and/or making an ebook process. Won't that be exciting? (It might not.)