Thank you, Michael Moorcock

If you're at all serious about SF, you know a little about and have read at least some of the work of Moorcock. If you don't know anything about him, an easy way to pick up a few pointers about him is to read this tribute to him by my pal, John Picacio, at the SFWA banquet at which Moorcock received his well-deserved Grand Master Award.

What I want to talk about here, however, is none of the many accomplishments for which Moorcock has received so much praise. I want to tell you about my few minutes with him on a panel at CoastCon.

Moorcock and his wife, Linda, arrived late, which was understandable because our panel was early on the first day of the con. Moorcock was in a wheelchair and then on crutches, and we encouraged him to do the panel from the floor. He would have none of it. He made his way up the stairs and sat at the end of the table, on my right.

David Weber, the top-selling space opera writer going, was on my left and was acting as de facto moderator.

With those two on either side of me, I figured my role was to pour water, offer to carry their pencil cases, and so on. (I did the first but never had the occasion to do the second.)

As events transpired, however, David asked me a question about the way I was constructing the Jon and Lobo series, and before I knew it I was spouting off to the extremely small audience about my never-before-revealed literary goals and structure for the series.

Moorcock's eyes lit up. He asked me questions. He took me seriously. He talked about his own goals in the Elric books and his challenges in meeting them. He critiqued himself for having gone too far in some directions and hurting his sales as a result. He treated me as a colleague, and he was excited talking about fiction and structure--with a writer with all of two novels out and someone completely unknown to him. (I must hasten to add that David Weber was also quite gracious and interested, but in this post I want to focus on Moorcock.)

This behavior may seem unremarkable, but if it does, you haven't been around enough artistic snobs. I've been snubbed by a great many fellow SF writers for a great many reasons, including my choice of publisher, my decision to write SF adventure, the mere fact that I am writing a series, and so on. I don't think I've ever been snubbed by anyone whose credentials even approached Moorcock's, and he treated me well.

We encountered each other again on the last day of the con. He stopped, shook my hand, apologized for not getting to spend more time with me, and expressed his hope that we would get to talk more in the future. Stunned at the genuine feelings this Grand Master expressed and at his kindness, I mumbled something I hope was appropriate.

Michael Moorcock reminded me of how we all ought to behave. He showed me that no matter your station in a field, you should still love it and discuss it with passion and exclude no one. I've spent precious little time with him, but already I owe him one, not for being nice to me but for showing me how it's done, for being a gracious man. Thank you, Michael Moorcock.

On the road again: CoastCon, day 2

A panel that starts at noon on day one of a convention is a bad idea indeed, yet that was my lot today. So, after walking along the Gulf of Mexico and diving deep into memories of my youth, I cleaned up and headed to my panel room in the convention center portion of the Biloxi Coliseum.

One person showed up, but she had made a very special effort to get there: After working all night at her hotel job, she had slept less than five hours and come to see me. So, rather than bagging entirely, as I would normally have done with an audience of one, we instead talked about the topic--finances and writing--and then about writing in general, until she had no more questions.

John and Traci Picacio then joined us on a ride to a local barbecue joint, The Shed. Before any of us had finished the third bites of our various orders, we had all agreed: The Shed rocks. The experience is interesting--in a good way--and the food is delicious. If time permits, I'll go back.

I attended and participated in multiple other panels today. A highlight was being the third (and by far the most junior) writer on a discussion of writing series; the other two authors were Michael Moorcock and David Weber. I learned a lot just listening to them, and though I talked more than I probably should have, I think the audience had a good time.

The evening was sufficiently crammed with activities that we had to wedge in dinner rather late, so we ended up grabbing a very unhealthy meal at a Whataburger, a local instantiation of a chain I'd frequented in college. Memories, memories; being so close to the Gulf really does take me back. I miss the beauty that once was the west coast of Florida, but she is gone, never to return.