On Sunday, I moderated the final panel at Capclave, “Endings: Varieties of Wrapping Up,” during which I wrangled Brenda Clough, Ann Crispin, and Bud Webster. Actually, hardly any wrangling occurred. The four of us have known each other for at least twenty years, I think, so there was plenty of comfort there, and we could have easily talked for an hour on almost any subject.

In fact, we chattered so seamlessly that I never found an opportune moment to quote one of my favorite story endings of all time. If I’d done so, it would have stopped the flow of conversation, so I didn’t bother, and so I’ll share it here with you instead.

It comes from Jessica Amanda Salmonson’s “Time-Slit Through a Rice Paper Window,” which continues to amaze me, and which I published way back in 1984 in the Summer 1984 issue of Last Wave.

Here’s how her story concludes:

A few days later (we are time traveling again) Kohachi is home with his mother. There is much ado about the marriage preparations and the invitations which must be sent out. A servant is replacing the torn windows in the rice paper screens and doors, so everything will be spiffy for the celebration. We won’t be able to see through the time-slit much longer. What will happen to Kohachi after we are gone? Perhaps he has a good life with his bride, winning a few more duels in his life. Perhaps there is a war and he goes off to that and dies, or else is a success and becomes a wealthy warlord. Possibly the son of someone he killed comes and duels with him and wins. It is difficult to know what occurs in the life of the people in a story after the story ends. If we have any hearts at all, we must suffer thinking about it. That’s why stories sometimes say “happily ever after” or else kill all the characters off, so that we won’t have to worry about it. As for Kohachi, we have no idea what happens to him after this. We can always hope for the best.

I know I’m biased, but twenty-seven years after I first read them, those words still give me the tingles.

I had a wonderful weekend at Capclave. I did a reading and took part in two well-received panels, moderating one of them. I was originally going to participate in a third panel until a certain British knight decided to pop by.

To the surprise of us all, Sir Terry Pratchett made a last-minute visit to the con, as the final appearance in his U.S. tour for Snuff. In fact, his appearance was so final I believe he and his assistant Rob Wilkins headed off to the airport (and the UK) immediately after their noon Q&A.

As far as I’m concerned, it was the highlight of the con. I’d give up any number of opportunities to pontificate in exchange for a chance to hear Pratchett. And as those of you who know me already know, without me having to say it—I was in the front row with my Flip balanced on one knee.

Here, for those who couldn’t make it to Capclave—and for those who could, but would like to relive the lovely hour—is video from the event.

I’ve been busy lately. How do I know I’ve been busy lately? Because here it is, two months after the Reno Worldcon, and I’m just getting around to uploading my photos to Flickr. I shared a few of them previously in a post after I got back from the con, but most of them remained on my laptop.

Not that there were many. I only took a couple of dozen, as opposed to the hundreds I shot at the Japanese Worldcon. That seems to have been the case for a number of conventions lately. I think I’ve taken to living my life cons with Twitter instead of my camera. But looking back over the past year, I don’t think I like that. I’m going to make sure I start snapping again at my next few cons. Tweets disappear, but photos last.

As proof, check out this self-portrait of me with a holy trinity hovering above me of the much younger visages of Harlan Ellison, Bob Eggleton and … a plumper me.

A couple of months ago, I announced a competition to blow the top of my head off by creating a short clip based on my Stoker-nominated zombie play “A Plague on Both Your Houses,” with three winners to be unveiled at World Fantasy Con at the end of this month. The clip of no less than three minutes in length can be in any format—live action, animation, marionettes, claymation, kinetic typography, sock puppets—and it’s not too late to submit yours.

So if you’ve been thinking of picking up a Flip cam and giving it a try, check out all the info here. You’ll note that I said entries had to be submitted by this Saturday the 15th, but as I’m the only judge, and it won’t be necessary to coordinate extensive debate, I’ve decided to extend that another 10 days to October 25th, the Tuesday before World Fantasy. So if you’ve been thinking of entering, there’s still time! What else do you have to do the next two weekends?

And just to give you an idea of your competition, check out this ambitious entry from Drake Tucker and his frightening friends.

What are you waiting for?

Arnold Gingrich would like you to subscribe to Esquire, Coronet, and Ken, but only if you’re “a responsible person with a proven credit standing in your community.”

If not … nothing to see here. Move along!

An ad for Acme Supermarkets (where I guess Wile E. Coyote used to buy all his hunting gear) in the February 10, 1955 issue of the Washington, D.C. Evening Star hints that the ducks the company sells are treated like veal.

According to the ad, “swimming (as well as flying) develops stringy muscles, and Acme wants none of that.”

No wonder that bathing suit is hanging on a tree branch. The duck isn’t allowed to wear it.

I suddenly feel very sad for that duck.

I think I found my dream car in the July 15, 1950 New York Times Magazine.

After all, as the ad says—it IS Hydra-Matic!

But if I can’t have the car … I at least want that rocket.

While researching Jim Mooney’s career to see whether it lined up with the advertising art I mentioned earlier, I fell down the rabbit hole of Google, and eventually ended up staring at the photo below of three architects dressed up as famous buildings each had designed.

That’s William Van Alen, architect of the Chrysler Building, in the center; Ely Jacques Kahn, who designed the Squibb Building, to the left; and Ralph Walker, designer of One Wall Street, to the right.

That’s right. A Wall Street architect was literally occupying Wall Street.

The reason they were decked out like that back in 1931 was to attend the Society of Beaux-Arts Architects annual ball, which I hope took place in a room with tall doors and high ceilings.

(I spotted this photo on multiple sites, but I smurched this one from Elevator View.)

The following ad appeared in the July 16, 1950 issue of The New York Times Sunday Magazine. My wife, whose discerning eyes I’d trust more than anyone’s when it comes to the styles of DC artists of the ’50s and ’60s, swears both images are by Jim Mooney.

Mooney, for those not familiar with the name, was best known for drawing Supergirl from 1959-1968, though I also loved him on Dial H for Hero. On top of that, I was lucky enough to have him draw my fill-in issue of Omega the Unknown in 1977.

Give the Clorox ad below a look and let me know wherther your discerning eyes agree.

It’s that time again! Another month is over, and so it’s time to gather all of September’s dream tweets and see whether they create any interesting friction rubbing up against each other.

Last month, I dreamt of Katherine Hepburn, Steve Carell, and Richard Pryor, as well as Ellen Datlow, Gardner Dozois, and F. Paul Wilson … and perhaps you.

September 2011

I dreamt I was on a grand jury investigating suspicious activity and said, hey, if this guy deserves to be arrested, I should be arrested. 30 Sep

I dreamt I was on a losing softball team and when it came time to shake hands, I saw one of my opponents had been a Waltons-era Ralph Waite. 30 Sep

I dreamt I was mowing our lawn with a mower made out of a old Mercedes-Benz, a very fancy lawn mower indeed. 30 Sep

I dreamt I looked outside and saw that to surprise me Irene had spread a carpet of Little Caesars pizza boxes stretching as far I could see. 30 Sep

I woke from a nightmare in which I was missing and Irene and her best friend couldn’t find me even though I repeatedly shouted, “Over here!” 28 Sep

I dreamt I was in a classroom with Adam-Troy Castro, who stunned me with his art by drawing a huge anti-bullying mural on the blackboard. 28 Sep

I dreamt I hired a taxi to take me to a casino 100 miles away, but my ride turned out to be just a bicycle with an exposed chair up front. 28 Sep

I dreamt I shared an office with my sister-in-law and an appraiser visited from Heritage Auctions to value our comics art collections. 28 Sep

I dreamt a courier’s briefcase, filled with coins, split open as he was crossing the street, spilling everywhere. So I helped scoop them up. 27 Sep

I dreamt I was a horribly inept waiter serving a young Richard Pryor and continually spilling food all over him in a slapstick kind of way. 27 Sep (more…)