I’ve been resting my head on these guys for decades. Well … not continuously. I do have other pillowcases, you know!

But I only noticed last night—after many, many years—that these other guys were on the flip side!

How is it that so much time has gone by without me ever noticing this before?

I say it’s all Wendy and Marvin’s fault!

The 200th issue of the Paris Review features an interview with Terry Southern (who, among many other things, wrote the screenplay for Dr. Strangelove) that’s been in the works for 35 years. Southern was interviewed in 1967, but never got around to approving the transcript, and since the magazine allows its interviewees that privilege, it never saw print.

The interview has only recently been discovered, and I find these thoughts of Southern’s prescient:

In five years television screens will be half the size of a movie screen, they’ll occupy a whole wall. And people will just sit there. They’re not going to leave the house except to see something groovy, something that they can’t see at home.

The great future, not for creative writers, but for professional writers, is in television, because pay television is going to come in, and that will take the place of the art movies that exist now, and ordinary television will take the place of what now exists in movies. In twenty years, the movies that compete with TV and pay TV will have to be pretty far out. Otherwise people will simply hang with the tube.

So not only did he foresee the coming age of quality pay television—with Breaking Bad, Mad Men, and the like—but also the massive screens on which we’d watch them all.

I just noticed that when I redesigned my site early last year, a special set of photos disappeared. But they are too good to remain MIA. And so …

One evening in Toronto back at Torcon 3—the 2003 World Science Fiction Convention—I needed to step away from the parties for a moment, and my kindly boss asked if he could borrow my camera until my return.

“Sure,” I said, feeling that if I couldn’t trust my boss, who could I trust?

But when the camera was returned, this is what I saw—plus a couple of dozen pics of science fiction’s finest giving me the finger.

View them at your peril, for your opinion of these kindly souls may change forever!

Irene uncovered a 1964 Disneyland brochure that makes me wish I’d been able to get there back when I was nine years old. Seems like there’ve been a few changes since then …

The artifact’s only a single sheet of paper, folded in thirds, and here’s how the cover looks.

Once you open it up, you see this map inside. (more…)

My short story, “A Test of Faith for a Couple of True Believers,” has just been published in the Spring 2012 issue of Space and Time.

And I see I my first appearance in Space and Time was back in 1982. Gulp!

As for what’s next—expect to see “The Trembling Living Wire” at Electric Velocipede, “Thing That Never Happened” in an upcoming issue of PostScripts, and “An Extraordinary Man” in the anthology The Monkey’s Other Paw: Revived Classic Stories of Dread and the Dead.

And that’s it for my pipeline of unsold and unpublished stories … so I’d better get writing!

As those who heard me whining during last weekend’s World Horror Convention know, it didn’t take long before I began showing symptoms of ukulele withdrawal, which amazed me, since I’d only taken up the instrument a little more than four months earlier. But after having practiced at least a little bit every day since Black Friday, my fingers were twitchy, and I could feel my muscle memory developing Alzheimer’s.

I almost bought a cheap, bottom-of-the -line uke last Thursday so I could practice while in Salt Lake City, but I never could figure out the transit system enough to make it to the music store about four miles away from the con hotel. But while searching online, I found something even closer—Intermountain Guitar and Banjo, which specializes in vintage instruments. The shop is only open by appointment, so I reached out to the owners, explaining that though I was a newbie, all of my UK ukulele friends figured I needed to get a banjolele so I could better channel George Formby, and that though I wasn’t likely to buy that day, I did plan to make a purchase sometime over the next year.

Leo Coulson, the uke expert, said sure, drop on by. And so even though I didn’t get a uke during my trip, I did get in about an hour of practice, because he pulled out these beauties and let me strum away.

From left to right, we’ve got: a 1920s S. S. Stewart, ‘Majestic-Style’ Banjo-Uke, 8″ rim with full resonator ($1,200); a late 1920s Slingerland Maybell Banjo-Uke, natural curly maple neck & 8″ rim ($395 ); a 1920s Banner Blue Banjo-Uke, decorative 8″ rim, 14″ scale, walnut neck & back ($750 ); a 1929 Gibson UB-1 Banjo-Uke; 6″ rim, Hunleth Music Co. tag, ($600) (more…)

Another month is over, which means it’s time to gather all of the previous month’s dreams and see whether anything is gained by letting them rub up against each other. March’s guest stars included James Earl Jones, George R. R. Martin, Jorge Garcia, Harlan Ellison, Jesse Jackson … and maybe you.

MARCH 2012

I dreamt I sat with @ColleenLindsay (and forgotten others) on a large sectional couch made of pancakes, discussing the future of publishing. 31 Mar

I dreamt I was in a vast NYC lobby when there were shouts about a woman being kidnapped. I tackled and pinned the guy until police arrived. 28 Mar

I dreamt I worked at Newsweek, and the editors grew angry with me when I appeared on the cover wearing a hoodie. Not sure what it all meant. 28 Mar

I dreamt I tried unsuccessfully to calm my (nonexistent in real life) teen daughter, upset I’d read some of her stories without permission. 27 Mar

I dreamt I fried a veal chop in oil while Woody Harrelson critiqued my every move, telling me I wasn’t showing enough respect for the veal. 26 Mar

I dreamt of bunch of Amish guys had cleared the land across the way and were constructing a subdivision … which meant it was time to move. 25 Mar

I dreamt the world went all post-apocalyptic. As I made a run for it, I grabbed my uke, which seems odd, since I’ve only had it four months. 24 Mar

I dreamt that after using a steampunk samurai sword to dispatch assassins by my mailbox, then came the hard part — disposing of the bodies. 24 Mar

Some of last night’s dreams are but fragments: dropping an expensive camera in a rushing river (but where and why?); The Rock (doing what?) 23 Mar

I dreamt I was with Jorge Garcia as he had his first meal at a rib joint he’d just invested in. (Though maybe I _was_ Jorge Garcia. Unsure.) 23 Mar (more…)

Yesterday, while on my return flight from Salt Lake City where I was attending the World Horror Convention, I pulled out a copy of United Airlines’ inflight magazine Hemispheres from the seat pocket in front of me, something I tend to do when the plane begins its descent and I’m forced to put away my electronic devices.

And while looking at the fine print in the back—you know, those pages where you’re told what you can’t bring on board (“liquid and explosive devices”) and how to avoid getting those pesky pulmonary embolisms (“with foot on floor, gently roll the sole of the foot inward), I discovered a notice I’d never seen before.

At the bottom of page 121, I found a block of text that read:

The use of still and video cameras, film or digital, including any cellular or other devices that have this capability, is permitted only for recording of personal events. Photography or audio or video recording of other customers without their express prior consent is strictly prohibited. Also, unauthorized photography or audio or video recording of airline personnel, aircraft equipment of procedures is always prohibited. Any photography (video or still) or voice or audio recording or transmission while on any United Airlines aircraft is strictly prohibited, except to the extent specifically permitted by United Airlines.

I can sort of understand United not wanting me to violate the privacy of the guy in the next row sticking peas up his nose, but what if a pilot suddenly freaks out and starts shouting about al-Qaida, or a flight attendant begins rambling about 9/11? You know any passengers not involved in jumping on top of the offender will be whipping out his or her iPhone and recording the event. The problem is, though, that technically, the fine print of United’s rule prohibits that.

But what did those words really mean?

I decided to call United and ask. (more…)

And here I had such good intentions!

On Friday morning, I posted what happened on Thursday, my first day at the 2012 World Horror Convention in Salt Lake City, but then I got too busy at the con to report on the rest of the con during the con, which violates Edelman’s Schadenfreude Rule of Convention Reporting.

And now that I’m home, I see I don’t have the time (and am unlikely to find the time) to tell you the details of my further schmoozing, my trip to a cemetery with Wasatch Paranormal Investigators, and all the rest of my misadventures. So here are six videos that’ll have to stand in lieu of a blow-by-blow description of my weekend, because life intervenes.

First, take a tour of Friday’s night’s mass signing, at which you’ll spot every author, editor, artist, etc., in attendance at the con. (Except me, of course, since I’m wielding the camera.)

Then check out Saturday’s interview of Guest of Honor and HWA Lifetime Achievement Award winner Joe Lansdale by the effervescent Del Howison. Lots of wisdom here!

Next, a few snippets from the Bram Stoker Awards banquet, held Saturday night, starting with Toastmaster Jeff Strand’s always entertaining opening monologue. (more…)

The first day of programming for the 2012 World Horror Convention wasn’t going to begin until 3:00 p.m. Thursday, so at 9:30 a.m., I threw myself out on the streets of Salt Lake City. I didn’t return to the hotel until 1:00 p.m., having spent 3-1/2 hours jumping on and off buses and street cars, getting lost as none of them took me quite where I wanted to go, walking around 4-1/2 miles, having lunch for breakfast, and hunting the elusive ukulele.

I was going through ukulele withdrawal, so I had this crazy idea that I’d visit a music store about three miles away, pick up one of their extremely cheap bottom-of-the-line ukes so I could continue to practice each day, then give it away to some kid before I flew home. But due to that getting-lost thing, I never made it there. So I abandoned my plans and instead headed to the first stop on my Man V. Food tour of the city—Bruges Waffles and Frites, where I began my day with their famed Machine Gun Sandwich, which is “a fresh baguette stuffed with: 2 merguez (lamb) sausages, fries, andalouse sauce.”

Yes, there are two spicy sausages buried somewhere under there! (Adam Richman did NOT let me down.)

From there, I headed off to Intermountain Guitar and Banjo (which was much easier to find than that other uke place) to check out their collection of vintage ukuleles, including this 1929 Gibson banjolele.

But I’d made the mistake of showing up on a day the uke specialist wasn’t there, so I didn’t get to lay my hands on any of them. I might sneak back Friday afternoon, though, when there’s a break in the horrific con festivities.

When I returned to the hotel at 1:00, I immediately left again with Jeff Strand, Lynne Hansen, Gabrielle Faust, Stephen Kling and Derek Clendening so they could experience Bruges (it’s that good), followed by much schmoozing in the halls until the 6:00 p.m. opening ceremonies … which you can watch below whether you were in Salt Lake City or not. (more…)