World Fantasy Con!


There were wild dolphins playing off the pier at Pacific Beach, the weather was fully in character for San Diego, the booze was plentiful and free, and I was surrounded by writers for three days. I made amazing friends that I dearly hope I didn’t manage to alienate, supportive, wonderful people who tucked me into the feathery bosom of their community and took care of my awkward, clingy ass. Thank you, guys. If I did anything to be a twatblossom, please don’t hold it against me too much.


Did poorly at the reading, but that was fully expected. Hopefully it won’t put anyone off reading the short when it finally hits.


An individual henceforth known as the WFC Creeper, who wandered around groping, harassing, and awkwardly hitting on every woman at the function. He cornered an acquaintance of mine at one of the parties and gave him a thirty-minute spiel on how he could totally astrally project into the dreams of ‘uppity bitches’ and give them nightmares about centipedes in their vaginas or something, because bad hentai is the universal nightmare of everyone with a uterus. Also? Lemmy Kilmeister from Motorhead totally taught him the psychic secret to picking up strippers. It’s true. He’s a wizard who can apparently make any woman want to sleep with a pudgy, greasy roadie in a stained band t-shirt. Acquaintance stood gamely listening to the dude ramble on for a good thirty minutes before gently misdirecting him out of the party and down the hallway (he was looking for some blonde who had rejected him, apparently). If we had known what he was getting up to elsewhere, we would’ve locked him on the balcony and called the cops right then and there.

(My only actual interaction with the man outside this incident was him creepily telling me to have a good day as I passed him at a party. I have never been so glad to look perpetually pissed.)

While I can’t disagree with the fact that it would take a fair amount of dark magiks to make any vagina-bearing creature want to bang this dude, I have to call shenanigans on the rest of his story. You have to study under the Kilmeister for at least a good hundred years before he’ll teach you that trick. Also he was a giant piece of shit who made many, many women uncomfortable and it is my dearest wish that he have dreams of candiru fish violating his shriveled peen from here until the crack of doom. Don’t be this guy, folks. Men like him make me want to learn Krav Maga so I can politely re-arrange their reproductive organs without breaking a sweat.