The Eff Wyrd

It’s been a good couple of days for me, lately.

Just yesterday, I had a chat with my agent, Danny Baror, who said he had been talking with a Serbian book publisher who has apparently been tweeting with me.  “He says you are very funny,” said Danny, “very impressed by how many times you can use the f word in a single sentence.”

This is how authors roll, my friends.

You might want to read this here very excellent, very awesome review of Black Halo by Robert Berg.  Rob has been one of my favorite reviewers for awhile, and still would be even if The Aeons’ Gate books didn’t work for him.  He’s honest and thoughtful and has absolutely no problem admitting he straight-up likes something, which I note seems to be an issue for a lot of reviewers.  Of course, since he does like The Aeons’ Gate books, he’s even better.

That was just the start of exciting things, really.  Black Halo continues to be enjoyed by many.  I just found out that Jean-Sebastian Rossbach is doing the cover art for the French edition of Tome of the Undergates (which, according to my buddy/translator, Emmanuel Chastelliere, will involve Kataria and “some awful frogmen”).  I’m doing an event at the Poisoned Pen with John Scalzi on May 28th.  And, as a lovely little cherry on a sundae of sunshine served in a bowl marked ‘good times,’ I’ve been invited to be a guest at the 2012 Tucson Festival of Books!

As of right now?  I’m in Portland, Oregon, visiting my sister.  I just had dinner with the phenomenal Brent Weeks, who is both humble and affable and non-judgmental (I can’t stress this enough).

But, as of Wednesday, I will be in Seattle for Norwescon. I highly suggest you stop by and see me there if you’re thinking of coming.  I’ll be doing some panels on themes, worldbuilding and other fine things that people in fantasy talk about, as well as helping out with a presentation on Pyr Books.

So, yes.  It has been a good couple of days for me.  You may feel happy for me.

I don’t often share good news on the blog, of course.  I’m not sure why, but I tend to forget the occurrence of good news in a matter of days while bad news tends to linger over me like a cloud for a long-ass time.  Beyond that, though, I’m convinced that, in keeping with the idea that the divine has a cruel sense of humor, whenever I have good news, it means bad news for someone else.

And, as if to prove me right, this has been a pretty good week for internet trainwrecks.

Publisher’s Weekly runs a column addressing the Jessica Verday deal that we actually discussed awhile back and, upon hearing dissenting opinions to an article proclaiming an abhorrence to censorship, decided to delete a bunch of comments that suggested Run Press might not be authentic.  Is it just me, or is the phrase “in this age of the internet” basically code for “I said something stupid and now everyone knows about it?”

The New York Times successfully alienated women and fantasy fans in their review of the HBO adaptation of A Game of Thrones.

And, probably most embarrassingly, noted cartoonist/misogynist Scott Adams has been caught sockpuppeting his own internet defense.

I’m beginning to wonder if, like Forgotten Realms and Thundercats, watching people meltdown or screw up on the internet is something you can only enjoy for a certain number of years.  Ordinarily, I would be giggling like a madman at these particularly exciting disasters (particularly at Scott Adams, whom I’ve become somewhat less enchanted with since, you know, the horrifying anti-woman sentiment he’s become famous for spewing), but really, I find myself wondering how it came to this.

I’m fairly sure I’ve suggested before that the word “fuck” is the most important word in the English language today.  If I haven’t, then I am now, and I feel I’m pretty well-justified.  It’s a word of passion, a word of anger, a word of excitement, a word of humor and, as we’re going to discuss, a word of humility.

As in “I fucked up.  Sorry.”

My dad taught me a number of things before I moved out of his house, many of them revolving around reasons about why I should move out of his house, but one of the most important things I’ve ever learned from him is the concept that there is no shame in owning up to a fuck up and apologizing.  It’s tough as shit, I know, and more than a little awkward, but what’s the alternative?  Creating a dummy account to praise your own genius?

I guess there’s the concept of pride getting in the way, of course: admitting your wrong means admitting you’re wrong, after all, and people may call that into question when you ever argue anything again.  And if you actually do happen to believe that people shouldn’t be arguing with you over disputed facts about homosexual relations in anthologies, or that fantasy readers are nerds that need to grow up, or that women are screaming children and equal pay and dignity is the candy they wail over, you probably shouldn’t be apologizing for a fuck up, because at that point, the fuck up is no longer an incident and you are the fuck up and there’s not a tremendous amount to discuss nor a particularly great reason to pay attention to you.

But, for most of us, we don’t believe those things.  For most of us, though, there will be moments when we do fuck up.  Especially if you’re hoping to be a writer in the public eye.  You will almost definitely fuck up at some point.  And you will have that opportunity, fleeting as it may be, to cop to it.

Just remember that there’s no shame in doing so.

This all goes out the window, of course, if you’re me.

I’m basically perfect.

If you ever disagree with me, it’s you that has the problem.

OKAY, BUDDY?

Love,

Sam