Oh, you guys, I almost wish the October thing were starting tonight. But no, you have to wait until Wednesday! It’s funny and sad and there’s a buzzard Andrew Jackson and a lot of other weird, surprising things. There is a dog in peril, but he doesn’t know it and no one dies, well, except for a dragon, but he totally has it coming. I just couldn’t stand anything too scary or sad this year, so it’s an adventure instead.
I really enjoy reading my stories to people. That’s mainly what I came away from the book festival knowing. I don’t mind being on other kinds of panels but the truth is that no one knows anything about publishing right now. If you want to know who’s full of shit, just look for who’s making declarative statements about who’s the bad guys or who’s doing it right or what. So, I feel weird about saying anything in those kinds of panels other than that everyone here is trying to make their best, educated guess at a time when guesses fall short.
But standing up in front of a crowd and reading them something I wrote? Oh, with my whole heart, I love that. I love the silence and the feeling like we’re all experiencing something together.
It’s good to be reminded of that, since so much of being a published writer is being rejected. Which sucks. But being able to read to people? That is awesome.