The Journal of Michael Merriam

Originally published at Michael Merriam. Please leave any comments there.

Here is the video of my performance at the Minnesota Speculative Fiction Writers Word Brew event at Acadia Cafe on November 20th, 2016. Enjoy!

 

I will be a day performer at this years Tellabration! event. I will be part of the "Personal Stories" track and will be sharing the Saturday, November 26th 4pm - 5 pm slot with Lane McKiernan. I'll be doing a show called "No Gimps Allowed," about being disabled and becoming "invisible" in the able-bodied world.

http://northstarstorytelling.org/tellabration-2011/

Wow. I haven’t updated since the first of the month. Things have been busy around here, and I’ve been (unsuccessfully) fighting off the ick. Like I said, though, things have been busy, so here is a little catch up post.

MarsCon was a great success. I had a good time, the panels were smart and well attended, and the convention big enough to be interesting and have energy, but still small enough not to overwhelm me. My reading went well, even if it was sparsely attended. All the panels I sat on were good, solid panels, with “Ask a Writer” probably being my favorite, though it turned into “Ask an Editor” for a long stretch, since all the panelist had editing experience. I was able to manage the dealer’s room at MarsCon, and able to move around on my own pretty well. I call it a success.

We left the con on Saturday night for ladysea’s birthday, which was also a success. It was good to be around great friends, and there was good food and conversation. Also, we got to pitch MarsCon to most of them. They are almost all of them in fandom in one way or another, so I’m hoping to have a few more of my friends at MarsCon next year.

We went to Catherine Lundoff’s (catherineldf) reading at DreamHaven Books. She is an excellent reader and her material was quite enjoyable. Afterwards we went out to Merlins Rest for food and drinks. The food and drinks were good, and it was great hanging out with everyone after the reading, but Merlins was too crowded and noisy for my taste. I would be willing to try it again on weeknight, maybe.

The Stoll Baby Shower was also a great success. More good friends, good food and good times. The expectant parents seemed pleased with the gifts and the out pouring of friendship and love from their friends.

The City of Hopkins hosts “The World’s Shortest St. Patrick’s Day Parade” and they are not kidding. I think it took the whole parade about 5 minutes to pass. After, we went down to the VFW Post for free hotdogs and soda, but not before walking to the Elk’s Lodge by mistake. Luckily Hopkins is small and the two locations were only about four blocks from each other.

We bought new bedding. It is lovely.

Made a trip to Uncle Sven’s Comics Shoppe in St. Paul to spend a gift certificate I’ve had for years. Picked up two collections and one card game. The shop itself is small, cute, and well-stocked with friendly and knowledgeable staff.

This weekend I have Paganicon (http://tcpaganpride.org/paganicon/). I will be doing a reading/storytelling event on Sunday, where I plan to present “Four Minnesota Fantasy Tales.” Hopefully I am over my sick and my voice holds out.

Line edits on Last Car to Annwn Station are finished and returned to Editor Melissa at Carina Press. It should be a couple of weeks before the CEM arrives. I have a week to finish that, then the manuscript will be complete and delivered. There will be a final proof galley, then at last a book. I can’t wait.

My reading at DreamHaven Books was a success. I started off reading too fast, but got my footing and by the time I read from Last Car to Annwn Station I had settled in. Everyone seemed to enjoy the reading, and several folks said they are looking forward to the novel coming out this summer. We had a great crowd, 41 people by our count.

Super Bowl party was fun, with about 20 people at my house, some of whom cared about the game, many of whom did not, and everyone having fun. There was lots a good food and great company.

Had a nice night out with some other local writer folks. Good conversation, goods people, and a smashing beer and scotch selection at The Muddy Pig in St. Paul.

Speaking of food, we have a new Japanese restaurant in Hopkins, Aji. There is nice review here: http://www.weeklynews.com/main.asp?Search=1&ArticleID=8267&SectionID=49&SubSectionID=110&S=1

We went with some friends and found everything cooked to perfection and the sushi bar well presented, with a good selection of excellent and flavorful sushi.

We went to see Bill W. and Dr. Bob (http://www.illusiontheater.org/events/bill-w-dr-bob) at the Illusion Theatre in downtown Minneapolis. This show is well worth seeing, and the discussion after the show with the director and actors was great fun.

The MinnSpec meeting today was a presentation about giving presentations and being on panels. There was some really good stuff, though I feel like we focused a little too much on PowerPoint stuff. I know some people really dig the PowerPoint, but I don’t use it. There was also good discussion about what to do in difficult situations (a cellphone goes off, crying children, that one person in the audience who tries to hijack the panel, that one expert in the audience who asks you the one question you don’t know the answer to, that sort of thing). We talked about different things you can do the make your public speaking better, including joining Toastmaster and taking some basic acting and voice classes. Over all a very positive meeting, plus we figured out the topics for the next couple of meetings.

Getting gear up for Con of the North this weekend. I will be spending my birthday at the Con.

I sent in my panel picks for CONvergence. We shall see what happens.

Speaking of panels, I have my schedule for MarsCon:

Friday, March 4:
6:00-6:45 PM--Krushenko's/Concierge (Room 1332)
Fiction Reading: Michael Merriam

Saturday, March 5:
6:00-6:45 PM--Re(a)d Mars/Taylor (2nd Floor)
Panel: The Woods Are Lovely
How do we create modern fairytales and myths? How do we tap into the primal emotions of fairytales in a modern era?
Michael Merriam, mod.; PMF Johnson, Naomi Kritzer

Sunday, March 6:
11:00-11:45 AM--Re(a)d Mars
Panel: Ask a Writer
Always wanted to know how a novel is born? How does a writer structure their day? Is it all glittering parties and intelligent company? Come ask a panel of working writers anything!
Michael Merriam, mod.; Roy C. Booth, Catherine Lundoff, Anna Waltz

1:00-1:45 PM--Krushenko's
Panel: The Western as Fantasy
Myths about the Old West began before the West was old, making it one of the first shared worlds in American culture. We'll discuss the rise and fall of the Old West mythology, and how it has influenced and lent its energy to current genres including fantasy and science fiction.
David Christenson, mod.; Eric M. Heideman, Michael Merriam

2:00-2:45 PM--Krushenko's
Panel: Writing in a Series: Harmonies and Discords
Writers who have done multiple novels or stories about continuing characters and/or a linked world share their experiences, positive or negative, and their advice to aspiring series writers.
Michael Merriam, mod.; Lois McMaster Bujold, Naomi Kritzer

I’ve acquired shooting scripts from several televisions shows and one from a motion picture. I plan to read and study these, watch several episodes of Being Human, Eureka and Warehouse 13, and then create spec scripts. I am also outlining a feature movie script.

My counselor at State Services for the Blind has, in support of my quest for a part-time job, hooked me up with Lifetracks in St. Paul. My worker there has already sent out my resume to a potential employer that looks to be a good fit for me, except it might be too much travel by bus. Still, if they can find me a possible position before I’ve ever had a meeting with them, I’m impressed.

Tomorrow night I will cook Valentine dinner for my Bunnee. We stay in and avoid the crowds on Valentine's Day. There will be good food and small gifts.

Also, still sick. This is the start of week three. I suppose I should go see a doctor.

I pulled my other WiP novel out yesterday and looked at it again. Though it makes me nervous to say it, I feel like Dark Water Blues is some of my best work. I'm looking forward to working on it again once I've finished Rija's Tale.

I received my contributor's copies and a check from Fictitious Force yesterday. A quick glance showed that I am sharing a ToC with truepenny, and for the second time aliettedb.

Yesterday careswen took me out to the Mill City Museum for my belated birthday gift, where we, among other things, took a walking tour of the Washburn "A" Mill , including going down in the bowels of the ruined mill to places most visitors never get to see. It was damned interesting, and yes, I do plan on using some of this in fiction, eventually.

Gaming was afterward, and while it wasn't a total disaster, I'm starting to wonder if I'm losing my touch as a DM. I have to wonder if it is because my storytelling focus had shift away from gaming to writing. Or maybe I'm just getting old and can't react as quickly to my character's decisions.

One the way home careswen and I got behind a driver who was obviously impaired, weaving and swerving between lanes, speeding up and slowing down erratically, that sort of thing. We called the State Patrol and followed the guy. Over the next thirty minutes we tailed this driver or sat watching him as he sat park on city streets, all the while talking to police on the phone. Every time he got off the highway, the State Patrol switched me to the local city police, but then the guy would get back on the highway.

We followed him around for Thirty Freakin' Minutes as he swerved into other lanes and did other stupid shite, endangering people's lives, with me on the phone giving the police dispatcher a play-by-play of where we were. We followed him until he short down a dark residential street and then got behind us, at which point we decided it wasn't safe and broke off. Did I mention we did this for Thirty Freakin' Minutes? Guess how many cops we saw. Go on, guess.

Right, not a one, even though we were feeding dispatch exact information.

I was supposed to go to the monthly Twin Cities Speculative Fiction Writers Network meeting today, but I woke up sick to my stomach and dizzy, like I'd gone on a terrible bender last night and was reaping the rewards, except I didn't have anything alcoholic to drink yesterday.

I'm feeling a little better this afternoon, so I'm going to get some lunch now, fold some laundry, and work a bit on Rija's Tale.

The Number Six bus deposits me outside of the shiny, slightly unattractive, brand new downtown central library in Minneapolis. I step off the bus and gather my wits and bearings, spending a moment re-aligning myself to the world. I orient myself and turn left, heading for the intersection and my connection to yet another bus, this one destined for the U of M campus. I take a deep breath and start walking, sorting all the information being fed to me by my failing eyes, my ears, my nose, the air currents on my slightly sweaty skin. Downtown is always a bit of a challenge with its loud noises, interesting smells, winds whipping between tall buildings, and erratic traffic. I need to be alert.

She steps into my field of vision an instant latter, emerging from the grey-black nothing a dozen feet before me. I stop moving, surprised by her appearance.

She is small, little more than five feet tall would be my guess, and slender of build. She is dressed in full Victorian mourning garb. The dull black dress is unadorned, the weeping veil hung from her bonnet and pulled over her face. She carries a black parasol in gloved hands. As she slowly walks past me, her eyes and face downcast, I see through the veil that she is perhaps in her mid-twenties and blonde. Her pretty face is set in a grim frown and she seems unaware of the world around her.

She walks past, missing me by bare inches. She acknowledges neither me nor the white cane I bear. I, by turn, appear to be the only pedestrian in downtown Minneapolis interested in her appearance. I turn, following her progress with my fading eyesight. I wait to see if she goes into the library, thinking perhaps she is part of a presentation. She walks past the modern structure without a glance, never breaking her slow, stately stride. She continues toward the river and eventually passes out of my range of vision, fading from view as quickly as she appeared.

It is then I realize I heard no noise from her. There was no clicking of boots or shoes on the sidewalk, no rustle of crepe or other fabrics, no sounds of mourning. Nothing. No smell of perfume or soap came from her; no residual scent of her last meal reached my nose as she passed within inches of me. I am unsure if I noticed a change in air currents as she passed by: this is the hardest sensation for me to detect and interpret.

Had I not been pressed for time, had I not an appointment which could not be broken, I would have turned and followed. I would have let curiosity get the better of me, though you could say that to do so would be either a terrible breach of her privacy or, if you are inclined to such things, foolishness on my part, because we have all seen the horror movies and read the ghost stories.

But still, I'm left to wonder...

The universe reminds me that appearances can be deceiving, by way of the Metro Transit Bus System.

I'm on the #6 bus leaving heading into downtown proper. At 5th street this woman gets on, well-dressed, forties, leather briefcase, well groomed. She settles into a seat across and to my left (I'm riding up front in the seats that face the aisle of the bus) and promptly proceeds to begin nervously twirling her hair, and eventually chewing on it. And I mean really working it over. I wanted desperately to go over and slap her hand away before she started pulling it out in great big clumps. I can only wonder, why? What had her so upset? What could have happen to this woman to make her have such a violent hair twisting/eating habit?

At 8th street on Block E a young African-American male gets on, decked out in the bling, over-sized pants, the entire gansta look going on. He settles in the seat next to me and puts on these headphones the size of hubcaps, I mean like serious "it's your granddaddy's big old four-door Buick" hubcap size headphones and I'm just gritting my teeth because I'm tired and cross, and class was a big waste of time, and I'm not in the mood to listen to hip-hop spill out of those headphones for ten blocks. So he turns it on and starts groovin' to:

I am I, Don Quixote,
The Lord of La Mancha,
My destiny calls and I go,
And the wild winds of fortune
Will carry me onward,
Oh whithersoever they blow.
Whithersoever they blow,
Onward to glory I go!

And the universe reminds me not to judge a book (or person) by its cover.

In Peace,
Michael

My first on-campus class went fine, though two and a half hours in one class is a bit much. There will be a lot of papers to write (three major papers and about 8 minor one) for this class, on top of the ten medium sized papers for my Short Story class, but hey, am I a writer or what? We had a change of Prof, which was a little weird, but he seems like a nice enough guy.

After I finished class I needed to run errands in the city, so off I went. There were some interesting moments.

I went to the Fine Line Music Café to pick up tickets for Gaelic Storm. The ticket office is in the basement of the building, nestled among the narrow hallways and many turns. Found it. Bought tickets.

As I'm walking down 4th street heading for the bus stop on Hennepin Avenue, a too thin woman in a too small skirt and leopard print coat walks up to me and says, "Hey baby, need a date?"

Right in front of the police station.

"No. No thank you," says I, moving along.

Right in front of the downtown Minneapolis Police Station.

At two in the afternoon.

I rode the number 4 bus to Lyndale and Lake, and as I step off the bus, barely clearing the tangle of free newspaper boxes, trash cans, sign polls and other obstacles, a voice says directly to me, "Hey, can you spare some change."

So I turn toward the voice, white cane, Ray Charles glass and all. "Dude, do I look like someone with spare change?"

"Oh, sorry man, I didn't know. God bless you." And off he goes, soliciting from the next person.

So I'm walking down Lake Street toward Dreamhaven Books, and I can hear someone on a bull horn, pitching Liberty Tax services. As I close in on the street corner, I encounter this six foot five, three hundred or so pound man, dressed as the Statue of Liberty, shouting at passing motorist about Liberty Tax Service.

God, I love this town.

I wrapped up my Dragonlance Mini-campaign last night. We ran late. Really late. There was an epic battle, mass chaos, betrayal of the party by another character at a critical moment, a couple of character deaths, the complete destruction of a small mountain, and the saving of the day with time running out and no easy answers left.

It was good. Now I need to not run a game for a few months.

Tonight I have birthday party fun with some friends and tomorrow is Twin Cities Speculative Fiction Writers Meetup. I will be doing a short reading at the meeting.

In Peace
Michael