Creepiest kid at Phoenix Comicon ’13

This past weekend was Phoenix Comicon ’13.

*insane cheering*

It was an incredible weekend. Much geeky fun was had by all. Even up to the point when we all had to evacuate the Phoenix Convention Center.

What?

Yep. That’s right. Evacuate.

I was sitting in room 132, listening to Michael Stackpole, James A. Owen, Peter Orullian, Terry Brooks, Brandon Sanderson, and Timothy Zahn talk about worldbuilding. My husband and children were on the other side of the building, learning how to build a dalek. And then, just as the worldbuilding panel was finished up, the  lights on the ceiling flashed and a siren (that sounded a bit like the alarm on the Enterprise) sounded. We all looked at each other. What do we do? Well, luckily, there also came an automated female voice instructing us to leave the building in an orderly fashion at once.

So we did.

Here’s a video fo how those sirens sounded:

Brandon Sanderson was still talking about writing as he left the worldbuilding panel, and I got to ask him a couple of questions. Very cool.

But the very not cool part was that my phone battery had died just moments before the sirens sounded.

Ugh.

I had no way of getting a hold of my husband and children. Sad me. (I wasn’t too worried, though. I knew they couldn’t be far.) I asked the man standing next to me (not Brandon Sanderson) if I could borrow his phone. He said yes and I made contact with my hubby. Awesome! I told him where I was (just outside the doors) and he said he’d come to me.

But then security said everyone  had to move across the street. And so the plan hubby and I made to meet was thwarted. Not awesome.

I asked a young woman passing me if I could borrow her phone to call my husband. She scowled at me (actually scowled) and said no. I was a bit shocked, really, because this was Comicon and people are Comicon are so cool. Except for her. She was not cool.

Then, I saw a woman in TARDIS socks and a Who shirt and I approached her with confidence. “May I please borrow your phone to call my husband?” I asked, and explained my phone battery was dead.

She said yes. She even dialed the number for me.

You know why?

Because Doctor Who fans RULE.

After I made contact with hubby and told him to stay where he was I was coming to get him, I thanked her profusely and pointed out my own Doctor Who shirt.

We smiled at each other, knowing inside how much better the world would be if everyone was a Doctor Who fan.

I was soon reunited with my husband and children, thanks to the kindness and generosity of the woman in TARDIS socks.

Dear Woman in TARDIS Socks who Let Me Use Your Blackberry to Contact My Family:

Thank you for being awesome.

-Amy

Or that Bram Stoker first considered The Dead Un-Dead as the title for Dracula?

Here’s a list of 10 famous books that underwent title changes. It’s weird to think about those classics by any other name.

But they’d still be the same books. And they’d still have ended up the classics we know and love.

What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. – W. Shakespeare

While my book is too young to be a classic (it’s not even born yet!), it has something in common with Gatsby, Dracula, and a slew of other books.

The title is changing!

A couple of months ago, it came to my editor’s attention that another author had a YA scifi book coming out in the spring of 2014 with a very similar title to my book, not due out until the fall. After much discussion, we decided it was best to change our title.

So, I’m excited to tell you, in a very officially official manner, that book one is now titled:

NOW THAT YOU’RE HERE

and book two, which mirrors book one and is due out in 2015, will be titled:

WHILE YOU WERE GONE

When we lock down release dates and other information, I’ll be sure to announce it here. In the meantime, I’m knee-deep in writing book two, revising book one, and right now I’m off to Phoenix Comicon, where I’ll have my first author appearance! So much excitement, I could just explode.

So stay tuned, have a wonderful Memorial Day and if you get a chance, come see me at Comicon!

Congratulations, Baylee! Enjoy your new Time Lord mug. May you drink many delicious beverages in good health.

Thanks to all who entered and shared theories about who Clara might be. Hooray for only one more day until we (hopefully?!) find out what The Moff has up his sleeve.

Happy Who everyone!

Then, inevitably, he blows everything up. Not literally. I mean, just when he’s starting to gain momentum and really make something happen, he trips himself up. Sabotages himself. Sets what he’s doing and what he’s done on fire and walks away. And all of us watching it happen shake our heads and sigh.

It’s like he’s programmed to self destruct.

Artists (writers included) are known to be a temperamental lot. You know the stereotype: the tortured artist. We find community in our angst and court our pain in search of inspiration.

Which is fine, I suppose, if that’s all you want to do. But I have to wonder if at some point that kind of drama becomes our work instead the art we were creating.

In The War of Art, Steven Pressfield refers to this kind of behavior as a form of resistance. Julia Cameron refers to it as “the twitch, the flu, the deadly disease” in her book Supplies: A Troubleshooting Guide for Creative Difficulties. It’s that thing you allow to get in your way so you don’t have to accomplish the thing you’re really meant to accomplish.

I used to be this way. I used to unravel my work so I never had to get where I wanted to be. Why? I’ve asked myself that a lot. The best answer I’ve found is that success means change and change can be scary.

Reminds me of that Marianne Williamson poem:

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.

 Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.

It is our light not our darkness that most frightens us.

Yeah. That.

I wish my artist friend would read The War of Art or Supplies, or Marianne’s poem. But, like a kind of depression, when you’re in a pattern of self-destruction, you don’t really want to hear the answer. You just want to keep being roiled up in the confusion and drama and somedays.

But the answer is pretty easy. (Okay, it’s hard, but also…easy.)

You do the thing you’re scared of doing. You go that extra step. You finish the work. You put away the matches and let the thing live and breathe and shine instead of burning it to the ground.

I think James A. Owen might say it best in his book Drawing Out the Dragons:

“If you really want to do something, no one can stop you. But if you really don’t want to do something, no one can help you.”

Are you programmed to self destruct? Whether you’re able to hear this now, or whether it just sits in your subconscious for a while until you are ready, the truth is this: you don’t have to burn what you’re building.

Just put the matches down.