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I’m not a man that holds a grudge against someone for their opinion.  I don’t get upset if someone gets something out of Tome of the Undergates that I didn’t intend them to.  That’s part of the allure of writing.  I don’t get upset if someone doesn’t like the book, either; any piece of art is going to be subjective and not every piece is for everybody.  Criticism, too, can be useful to a writer.  Assuming it’s presented in a way that an author can actually look at without emotionally ripping himself apart, a lot of writers benefit from eloquent, exemplified discussions of where they can improve on.

This doesn’t apply exclusively to Tome of the Undergates, either.  A lot of writers improve greatly when their work is scrutinized.  When we have a problem is when the criticism is not helpful.  While browsing a few of my fellow authors’ critiques, I happened to notice a rather disturbing trend in the commentary.  Namely, that a lot of the criticism boiled down to the following statement:

“He’s not George R.R. Martin/Joe Abercrombie/Gene Wolfe/China Mieville.”

This sort of commentary got me thinking.  A standard complaint leveled against fantasy and its readers is that every book is the same: it’s the same story of good and evil, the same characters of hero and villain, the same format of questing for good times, the same result of saving the world.  This is a view I patently reject: as I discussed over at Pat’s Fantasy Hotlist last week, I think readers and authors alike have come to the point where we not only can accept different stories, we demand them.  As such, you’re quite unlike to read two fantasy stories that are like each other.  The genre has benefited from this.

At the same time, however, a different kind of demand has come up, and I think it’s not doing any of us a lick of good.

We compare authors all the time; hell, my publishers do it for me.  It’s the easiest way to summarize an author and to get another person interested in their book or to explain that said book just isn’t for them.  To say “Author A is like/similar/evokes feelings of Author B” is a fine and apt thing to say…so long as it stops there and is taken as no more than that: a suggestion that Author A might have a style similar to Author B.  Where the danger comes in is when this is taken too literally, when the major complaint becomes someone feeling betrayed because, no matter how alike they might seem, Author A is not Author B.

George R.R. Martin is a unique voice.  Mark Charan Newton is a unique voice.  Robin Hobb is a unique voice.  The same goes for Scott Lynch, Joe Abercrombie, Peter V. Brett, Brent Weeks and many, many more.  They can’t help but be unique voices; that’s why they’re authors.  If they weren’t unique, they’d be plagiarists.  And if their voices weren’t unique, they wouldn’t have found the success they have.  Sometimes, these voices don’t work for us.  That’s fine.  We should feel that the atmosphere of this particular readership is safe and accepting enough that we can say that freely.

What we shouldn’t be doing is treating the atmosphere like an episode of Highlander, in which there can be only one author and everyone who is not him is dirt.  Saying “this voice does not work for me” is fine.  Saying “this voice does not work for me because this is not Joe Abercrombie’s voice” is not.  That’s not a criticism.  That’s just unfair.  It’s unfair to an author because it’s basically saying that the only way he can succeed is if he’s someone entirely different.  It’s unfair to a curious reader because all it does is observe that said author is not someone he never claimed to be.  It’s unfair to the readership at large because it cultivates an air that is hostile to authors who are not as established and readers who are not following the established names.

And I’m not slamming the established authors or accusing their readers of being unfair.  George, Joe, Scott and China are established for a reason: they’re really, really good at what they do.  This is not a call to abandon one’s favorite authors and flock to unproven, untested authors out of fear of making someone else uncomfortable.  What this is is a reminder that these guys were also once unestablished, that these guys wouldn’t have gotten so far if they had “you’re not Gene Wolf/Raymond E. Feist/Glen Cook” crammed down their throats.

I’ve said before, and I steadfastly maintain, that fantasy is one of the most diverse genres out there.  We have reached a point where the only rule to the genre is “whatever the hell you feel.”  I don’t care what any literary critic or award panel says.  But while we might have come far enough that we encourage and demand new stories, I feel we’re not doing everything we can to encourage that which makes the stories actually work: the voices.

Again, this is not an attempt to declare the established authors as vile idols that must be toppled.  This is not an attempt to declare that new authors are without flaws and you should only say nice things about them.  If a voice doesn’t work, it doesn’t work.  That’s fine.

Sometimes a guy sucks.

But it’s a hell of a lot more handy if you can tell him he sucks on his own merits.

I make no secret about my relative inexperience in this industry.  Despite the fact that I grow a beard, which is usually indicative of experience or a guy who hauls off black garbage bags to the dump at 3:30 in the morning, conventions are kind of a new thing for me.  It’s always a little intimidating, going to speak at panels with authors who have no idea who you are and audiences who may not even care.  Thusly, I was a little nervous when I headed to Phoenix Comicon.

But I’m really glad I went.

To be fair, most of the authors there hadn’t heard of me (though I hadn’t heard of them, either, until just now), but I was really pleased to have made the acquaintances that I did.  Chief among these was one Leanna Renee Hieber, who was on absolutely every panel I was, from Subgenres to How to Make it as an Author.  Not only was she on them, she basically dominated them.  The woman positively oozes wisdom, experience and advice, as well as a strange, sticky substance that I was warned by the staff to never, ever inquire after (as far as all parties are concerned, it’s jam.  Delicious jam).  Foolishly, I stationed myself in a position where I would always answer a question before her and think I had basically summarized the subject quite succinctly.  This temporary high was relentlessly mutilated by Leanna’s answer, which invariably bent mine over and sodomized it with a really crucial point that I had never actually considered.  For all the sodomy and violence, though, Ms. Hieber was relentlessly nice and we wound up gabbing quite a bit and even exchanged books.  At a glance, Ms. Hieber has one of the most eloquent and lovely voices I’ve ever read and I wholeheartedly encourage you to give her stuff a try.

What?  That’s not enough for you?  Well, how about this lovely quote she gave me for my next book (ask her for the context):

Sam Sykes: One step behind a prostitute.

Someone who needs no encouragement from me, however, is John Scalzi (or “John FUCKING Scalzi”, as one of my friends said, upon hearing who I was paneling with).  This dude has been around for awhile, both online and in print, and he basically has set the tone for author online presences for years now.  I had the great misfortune of sitting next to him at the signing booth.  And let me tell you, friends…all those rumors about him being eloquent, charming and knowledgeable?  Well…yeah, those are true.  What no one tells you, though, that he is also quite aggressive and gluttonous.  Yes, it’s true.  He sat next to me on his lunch hour and, after leaning close to my ear and noisily devouring his sandwich (while making certain to show me the contents of his “See Food” at every opportunity), had the gall to eat his cool ranch Doritos and wipe his filthy, orange fingers upon my nice green shirt.  But Scalzi’s clout held no weight in the Court of Sykes (fact: “the Court of Sykes” counts as the immediate ten feet around me, fifteen if I’m wearing boots, and follows no law except the Law of Sykes and the Law of Bangkok) and I quickly retaliated.  In great, gracious defeat, Mr. Scalzi honorably chronicled the event here. You can also access his under-read and amateurish blog there.  In all honesty, though, he is a very cool guy and I was thrilled to have met him.

But probably the chief highlight of the Con, and probably my new favorite person in the world, was one James A. Owen, author of The Chronicles of the Imaginarium Geographica. Ever since having the distinct pleasure of serving on a panel with him at LepreCon, there has been no author who has done more for me than Mr. Owen.  He’s been a font of wisdom and experience to me, probably one of the friendliest and most welcoming people I’ve ever met.  But the best part about it?  I’m not that special in that regard.  He does this for everybody. Seriously, I was astonished at how willing he was to please the seemingly-endless flocks of people who came seeking him out (including Jonathan fucking Frakes).  No one else puts more time and energy into his fans and no one else seems more happy to do it, except for his equally awesome brother, Jeremy.  Just probably an all-around stand-up dude who does every single kindness for everybody.

Okay, maybe not everybody…

To those who are a little confused by my above gushing, please rest assured that James extended a particular kindness to me that is the main reason he was bumped up to the top of my will (he gets my truck and my vast collection of wax likenesses of politicians; except for Chester A. Arthur.  That dude gets buried with me).  You see, there was a Geek Prom at Comicon, a fun little dance party for all the good people at Comicon that went to benefit the very fine charity Kids Need to Read (I highly encourage you to check it out).  Regrettably, I wasn’t able to buy a ticket in time, but James, with a wave of his mighty, hairless hand, commanded the doors open for me.  This was pretty good in and of itself, but then James went one step beyond and, after judging a nerd costume contest with a lot of cool entries, came down from the stage with a tiny little creature following him and said unto me:

“Hey, Sam!  Have you met Felicia?”

Yes.

He introduced me to Felicia Day.

I can’t even fit the word “fucking” in there, it was so awesome.  She is an amazingly cool person who shot me a nice smile and said:

“So, you’re an author?”

And I shot back a wide, ugly grin and replied:

“Uh fuh buh buh uh duh flbbbbbbbbbttttt.”

Leanna assures me that this is a common reaction.

Anyway, we could talk about my awkward conversation all day (and I’m pretty sure Scalzi, upon hearing this, will, since he thinks he’s so goddamn cool), but the jist of it is that Ms. Day asked me for a copy of Tome and I eagerly obliged, with more than a few “uh buh buh”‘s to accompany it.  She, in exchange, gave me a signed picture of herself, which I will eagerly share with you once I figure out how to upload stuff from my blackberry.

So, anyway, James A. Owen has the distinct regard of not only being one of the coolest, nicest, most welcoming authors I’ve ever talked to, but also being the only guy who can say they introduced me to Felicia Day…and Wil Wheaton, too, but I think that dude hates me (it is rumored he can smell sin).

What?  Oh, yeah.  His first book, Here There Be Dragons, is also really good.  Seriously.  This guy may be the literary equivalent of Superman…except he wears his briefs on the inside…or so I’m told.

Anyway, it was a delightful con (probably moreso for me than a lot of others) and I wholeheartedly encourage you, you jerk, to go next year, when I’ll actually be published and be able to hold that over Scalzi’s head (fortunately, I’m taller than he is, so he can’t hold his many more and much better-selling books over mine, oh ho ho).

Other authors that I should mention as being amazingly cool, but having the misfortune of coming into a blog post that is already going on too long are J.S. Lewis, Kris Neri and Aprilynne Pike (who is the sole author kind enough to tell me she hates me to my face, in a very kind and loving way).

Yes, that’s right, friends.  Comicon is nearly upon us and–

What’s that?  No, this isn’t the San Diego one.  This is the one in–

What?  No, not the New York one, either.  It’s in Phoenix.

…well, of course Phoenix has a Comicon!  We’re a big state and–

Yes, Arizona is a real state!  Who told you otherwise?  Well, don’t you listen to that son of a bitch anymore.

Anyway, shut your fat face for a moment and let me tell you how it’s going to go down.

First of all, you should check the Phoenix Comicon Website and see who’s coming!  We’ve got a lot of good ones, such as Stan Lee, Felicia Day and James Marsters, famed for his role in the live action adaptation of Dragonball Z (people tell me I shouldn’t antagonize Buffy fans, but I live dangerously).  Anyway, you can see what they’re all doing on the site.  I can’t really tell you anything about that, since my attempts at stalking them have thus far ended in three different restraining orders (which is going to make this con a little difficult to navigate).

But, since this is the Sam Sykes Show, presumably you’re here to learn what I’ll be doing this whole time.  Now that I can tell you, since I have reached the point where someone thought I was important enough to be told what I’m doing (fun fact: the author is always the last to know what’s going on in his life).

But let me tell you.

Friday, 3:00-4:00 PM: Urban Fantasy, Steampunk, Mashups and More!

This will be a discussion of the various subgenres of fantasy, with myself reppin’ the oft-maligned “epic” version.  I’m not sure whose reppin’ what else, but if the covers of their books are any indication, I would expect whoever is wearing the tight pants and sporting the back tattoo is the Urban Fantasy spokesperson and the Steampunk expert will probably have gigantic goggles.  As for me and my epicness?  I’ll be wearing a hood.  Come see me, Leanna Renee Heiber, Aprilynne Pike, Kris Neri and J.S. Lewis!

Saturday, 3:00-4:00 PM: Beyond the Vampire and Werewolf

This is basically going to be a workshop on how we utilize various mythical creatures in our writing, giving them those subtle tweaks and ticks to make them our own.  This one I’m actually quite looking forward to, as I’ve been accused of finding inspiration for the Abysmyths in every source from Lovecraft to love of crack.  Hopefully, this will clear things up for a lot of people, including myself!  See it with me, Leanne Renee Heiber and Kris Neri.

Sunday, 10:30-11:30 AM: Sci-Fi Social Media

This one is going to be fucking huge, I can tell.  If you can’t make it, let me spoil something for you: there is no way to become a successful author without an internet presence to at least some degree.  The world has changed to the point where attention spans are short and the breadth of things to discover are long, hence making self-promotion more important than ever.  But we’ll go in depth with it with me, Jack Mangan, Michael Stackpole, Aprilynne Pike, Leanee Renee Heiber and John Motherfucking Scalzi.

Sunday, 12:00-1:00 PM: You’ve sold your first novel, now what?

I might actually have something to say on this one (I intend to put a very realistic wax figurine in my place at the other panels to disguise my natural quiescence), since I actually have a novel.  It’ll be neat talking about breaking into the industry, breaking into the reviews and breaking into the reviewers’ houses!  This one features me, Jeff Mariotte, Aprilynne Pike, Leanne Renee Heiber and my wax dummy.

There might be some signings.  If there is, I’ll be sure to tell you.  If not and you want something signed, just seek me right the fuck out!  You can recognize me because I will be the guy who is taller than Mark Newton.  I’ll sign all things: books, breasts, wives and maybe dead relatives!  You can still get stuff from The Poisoned Pen or wherever the fuck you want to!

Be sure to see me there or die!

It’s true.  I was just informed of this myself.  Frankly, I’m still a little doubtful, seeing as it snowed a few days ago in Flagstaff, where I am.  But, having had my face close enough to a keyboard that I have QWERTY emblazoned across my forehead like a particularly geeky Charles Manson, I am inclined to take peoples’ words for it.

Anyway, you know what this shit means, don’t you?  I bet you don’t.  But I’m here to tell you, because there’s a lot of stuff going down in Arizona!

Yes!  This state actually does do more than pass psychotic legislature!

May 11th: Sam Sykes Day.

What?  You’ve never heard of Sam Sykes day?  It’s a pretty important day.  Every May 11th, for the past three centuries, one of the many Sams in the Sykes clan has been responsible for a major atrocity.  You might remember some of these as the day when the Knights Templar were burned at the stake as heretics (this one, family records indicate, was a huge misunderstanding as the Sam Sykes of 1310 actually wanted some other people burned at the stake), or perhaps the day when the HMS Beagle would launch and take the Sam Sykes of 1820 on his scientific voyage that would eventually prove the theory of evolution (history books refuse to correct the unjust theory that his cabin boy, Charles Darwin, stole credit).

But here, in 2010, the modern Sam Sykes celebrates his birthday with ice cream cake, a new Macbook (which I am typing on now!) and participation in this year’s events, such as…

May 12th: Signing at the Poisoned Pen

I distinctly remember mentioning The Poisoned Pen bookstore in my last blog post as the only place you can currently buy Tome of the Undergates in America.  Well, I will, in fact, be doing a book signing there on May 12th, just a day after my birthday, at 7 PM.  Directions, locations, maps: here!  It’d mean a lot if you could come out.

“But Sam,” I can hear you say now, “I am not in Arizona out of protest for their crazy laws/because I don’t have the money or time to get there/because I am incapable of travel after losing both my legs and eyes in the great Secret War of 2002 in which we brave few fought off a wave of Neptunian Zombies that no one heard of because of the damn liberal media, so maybe you should have a little more sympathy for the man that saved your ass from becoming a buffet on Neptune, you goddamn ingrate.”

Rest assured, though, I have not forgotten my poor secret war veterans with social consciences.  You can still BUY a copy of Tome of the Undergates from the Poisoned Pen and I will sign and inscribe and personalize the HELL out of that book for you.

Did you see?  It comes warmly recommended by George R.R. Martin, apparently.  And that fellow might actually be there…or about there…because what happens next is…

May 14-16th: LEPRECON, BITCHES.

…it’s actually just “Leprecon,” organized by the phenomenal Lee Whiteside (who is also doing Phoenix ComicCon), but it promises to be a good time.  In addition to having several awesome authors, artists and assorted folk, it has me…also George R.R. Martin.  George “Motherfuckin'” R.R. Martin.

Facts about George R.R. Martin:

• He once had a headache so bad that he split his own skull open with a rock.  This is the accepted origins story for Joe Abercrombie.
• He has the power to reduce men to quivering blobs of jelly through the power of his headgear alone.
• The “R’s” stand for “revenge” and “radishes,” though the only men who know what order they go in are the ones who have been killed by his hands.

He’s also the guest of honor at Leprecon!  Not only will he be the guest of honor, he will be the guest of honor on a panel with Sam Sykes.  Sam “Motherfuckin'” Sykes…or maybe just Sam “Pie King” Sykes. We’ll be talking about the dangerous of writing a series as opposed to standalone books.  Given the speakers, it should be a subject rife with discussion and maybe a few death threats.

BUT.

I am also doing a few more panels!  Stick around to find out which!  Also, Tome of the Undergates will be on sale there, too!  JESUS CHRIST.

So, that’s May.  It looks pretty sexy, doesn’t it?  But don’t get too excited, sirs.  She is a harsh mistress and will probably burn your lips clean off.

Hope to see you all at Leprecon…or the Book Signing…or ComicCon!

And if I don’t.

I’ll find you.