WHC Report, Part III: Saturday & Sunday
SATURDAY
I start the day off with a pair of readings by Tina Jens and Mike Arnzen. Tina's reading is so classy that you'd never suspect that her diseased mind wrote a story like the one that's going to appear in UNTIL SOMEBODY LOSES AN EYE. Mike's reading puts his diseased mind out in front of everybody for close inspection. Both are highly entertaining.
I hang out downstairs for a while, and then Adam Pepper and I head over to the nearby food court for lunch. We get Thai food. Adam orders his spicy, I order mine medium. We both quickly regret not getting lesser heat values.
I go to see EXQUISITE CORPSE, which is a collection of 11 very short films based on poems and flash fiction by Mike Arnzen. With only one exception, I don't much like it. The heavy-handed approach just doesn't fit Arnzen's work, which I'm certain that he writes with a twisted grin on his face and the occasional outcry of "Muahahahahaha!!!" Oh well.
My wife, Lynne Hansen, is on the "Are Zombies The New Vampire?" panel. She has been given strict instructions to somehow work THE SINISTER MR. CORPSE into the discussion, so I go to the panel to make sure she follows through. She does, and so martial harmony is retained.
Then...it's tux time! I get all dressed up and snazzy-lookin' for the Stokers banquet. We head downstairs, where lots of people ask me if I've prepared a speech (no) and if I'm nervous (no). I'm almost positive that PRESSURE will lose to Tom Piccirilli's HEADSTONE CITY, so I've been in "It's an honor just to be nominated" mode ever since the finalists were announced. I didn't write a speech because that's like writing a story with no market, and I figure that if by some freak voting irregularity I DO win, they're not going to take the trophy away if I fumble through an incoherent speech.
We take our seats. I'm at a table with Lynne, Long Fiction nominee Christopher Golden, Greg Lamberson, my agent Jenny Rappaport, Norman Prentiss, Short Fiction nominee Stephen Volk, Bill Carl (who is very happy that his first novel will be published in 2008, giving him a chance to compete for a Stoker in a year without HEART-SHAPED BOX), John McIlveen, and Mike Myers. There are little cards with the covers of Stoker nominees on the table, but no PRESSURE, so we steal one from another table.
The food is surprisingly good for awards banquet food, although it was $55 a person, so I question whether I should be comparing this to other awards banquets or other $55 meals.
And...the awards ceremony begins, hosted by Sephera Giron. Sephera introduces each presenter with a tarot reading, although she does not predict anybody's untimely death, which would've been cool. Superior Achievement in a Novel is last, but we finally get there, and the moment where HEADSTONE CITY will give PRESSURE a public wedgie arrives. The nominees are read. PRESSURE gets the loudest applause of the five, so for about 10 seconds I suddenly think that I could win...and then the ocean of reality sprays cold salty water in my face as the Stoker goes to Stephen King for LISEY'S STORY. Stephen King isn't there, and nobody is present to accept the award on his behalf, so there's a few entertaining moments of bumbling around, but eventually they get it all sorted out and we're released.
We head up to the Stoker Winners & Losers Party. For about 10 seconds. Then we retreat from the merciless waves of heat and head back downstairs, where the intelligent people are lurking. We hang out there until the wee hours of the night.
SUNDAY
It's time to pack up. Somehow our luggage has expanded by 150%.
We head downstairs and say our goodbyes. Nate Kenyon is in tears, sobbing "It CAN'T be over! Come back WHC! Come baaaaack!" His wife Nicole smacks him and tells him to be a man, but this only makes him cry harder. His behavior makes everybody uncomfortable, and several people back away and pretend to be distracted by items on the floor and/or ceiling. I'm not ready for it to be over either, but c'mon, show a little dignity. Nate Kenyon disgusts me.
And we drive back to Buffalo. Greg plays a Bob & Doug McKenzie tape for our listening pleasure, and Nick Kaufmann and I make lots and lots of comments about the complete lack of anything resembling actual comedy. Greg is clearly annoyed by our lack of appreciation for fine humor, but the suckage of this tape is so extreme that we can't restrain ourselves.
Home at last. Well, Greg's home. We have pizza subs for dinner and watch part of Peter Jackson's KING KONG. I loved this movie in the theatre, but I have to quickly concede that Greg and Nick's heckling has plenty of merit. There are some really, really, really bad scenes in that movie. I mean, jeez.
We take Nick to the airport. Nick's flight is delayed. We take Nick back home for a while. We take Nick back to the airport. Nick goes bye-bye.
We go to sleep, never suspecting the airlines nightmare that awaits in the morning...
I start the day off with a pair of readings by Tina Jens and Mike Arnzen. Tina's reading is so classy that you'd never suspect that her diseased mind wrote a story like the one that's going to appear in UNTIL SOMEBODY LOSES AN EYE. Mike's reading puts his diseased mind out in front of everybody for close inspection. Both are highly entertaining.
I hang out downstairs for a while, and then Adam Pepper and I head over to the nearby food court for lunch. We get Thai food. Adam orders his spicy, I order mine medium. We both quickly regret not getting lesser heat values.
I go to see EXQUISITE CORPSE, which is a collection of 11 very short films based on poems and flash fiction by Mike Arnzen. With only one exception, I don't much like it. The heavy-handed approach just doesn't fit Arnzen's work, which I'm certain that he writes with a twisted grin on his face and the occasional outcry of "Muahahahahaha!!!" Oh well.
My wife, Lynne Hansen, is on the "Are Zombies The New Vampire?" panel. She has been given strict instructions to somehow work THE SINISTER MR. CORPSE into the discussion, so I go to the panel to make sure she follows through. She does, and so martial harmony is retained.
Then...it's tux time! I get all dressed up and snazzy-lookin' for the Stokers banquet. We head downstairs, where lots of people ask me if I've prepared a speech (no) and if I'm nervous (no). I'm almost positive that PRESSURE will lose to Tom Piccirilli's HEADSTONE CITY, so I've been in "It's an honor just to be nominated" mode ever since the finalists were announced. I didn't write a speech because that's like writing a story with no market, and I figure that if by some freak voting irregularity I DO win, they're not going to take the trophy away if I fumble through an incoherent speech.
We take our seats. I'm at a table with Lynne, Long Fiction nominee Christopher Golden, Greg Lamberson, my agent Jenny Rappaport, Norman Prentiss, Short Fiction nominee Stephen Volk, Bill Carl (who is very happy that his first novel will be published in 2008, giving him a chance to compete for a Stoker in a year without HEART-SHAPED BOX), John McIlveen, and Mike Myers. There are little cards with the covers of Stoker nominees on the table, but no PRESSURE, so we steal one from another table.
The food is surprisingly good for awards banquet food, although it was $55 a person, so I question whether I should be comparing this to other awards banquets or other $55 meals.
And...the awards ceremony begins, hosted by Sephera Giron. Sephera introduces each presenter with a tarot reading, although she does not predict anybody's untimely death, which would've been cool. Superior Achievement in a Novel is last, but we finally get there, and the moment where HEADSTONE CITY will give PRESSURE a public wedgie arrives. The nominees are read. PRESSURE gets the loudest applause of the five, so for about 10 seconds I suddenly think that I could win...and then the ocean of reality sprays cold salty water in my face as the Stoker goes to Stephen King for LISEY'S STORY. Stephen King isn't there, and nobody is present to accept the award on his behalf, so there's a few entertaining moments of bumbling around, but eventually they get it all sorted out and we're released.
We head up to the Stoker Winners & Losers Party. For about 10 seconds. Then we retreat from the merciless waves of heat and head back downstairs, where the intelligent people are lurking. We hang out there until the wee hours of the night.
SUNDAY
It's time to pack up. Somehow our luggage has expanded by 150%.
We head downstairs and say our goodbyes. Nate Kenyon is in tears, sobbing "It CAN'T be over! Come back WHC! Come baaaaack!" His wife Nicole smacks him and tells him to be a man, but this only makes him cry harder. His behavior makes everybody uncomfortable, and several people back away and pretend to be distracted by items on the floor and/or ceiling. I'm not ready for it to be over either, but c'mon, show a little dignity. Nate Kenyon disgusts me.
And we drive back to Buffalo. Greg plays a Bob & Doug McKenzie tape for our listening pleasure, and Nick Kaufmann and I make lots and lots of comments about the complete lack of anything resembling actual comedy. Greg is clearly annoyed by our lack of appreciation for fine humor, but the suckage of this tape is so extreme that we can't restrain ourselves.
Home at last. Well, Greg's home. We have pizza subs for dinner and watch part of Peter Jackson's KING KONG. I loved this movie in the theatre, but I have to quickly concede that Greg and Nick's heckling has plenty of merit. There are some really, really, really bad scenes in that movie. I mean, jeez.
We take Nick to the airport. Nick's flight is delayed. We take Nick back home for a while. We take Nick back to the airport. Nick goes bye-bye.
We go to sleep, never suspecting the airlines nightmare that awaits in the morning...
posted by Jeff Strand at 4:01 PM
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