This weekend, I launch into convention / book fair season with a fun gathering in Madison, Indiana. The Book Fair hosted by That Book Place is going on its fifth year (I hooked up in year two and haven’t missed it since). I can’t express enough how grateful I am for book stores in little communities like That Book Place in Madison, IN, and its owner Frank Hall, who goes far above and beyond with events like these to support us local authors.
But first, due to some recent political ugliness that has nothing to do with representing true Hoosier values, Frank offers the following to all guests:
“This store has been and always will be open to everyone. We are a safe haven for people to be themselves with out fear of harassment or ridicule. Everyone is welcome to their own opinion and we accept that, but Bigotry is something that is unacceptable.”
Frank speaks for myself and every author and book vendor I know that is likely to attending this event.
With “Virtual Blue” Nikki Howard!
Anyway, on to the cool stuff. The event has grown every year, and this year it is bursting at the seams, coming very close to 100 authors (if it hasn’t hit there by now) and will be off site from That Book Place for the first time ever. Also for the first time, food vending will be available onsite for authors and guests.
I am attending Saturday 10 am-6 pm only, but in the unlikely event you might want to see other authors as well (I suppose it’s possible) festivities begin Friday night with reader- and writer-related panels, and continue through Saturday. Author readings are also scheduled all day, with yours truly offering up a little something from Haunting Blue at 1:40 pm.
So join us for the fun! Check out the full schedule of events and driving directions at the official website and Facebook Event Page, and you can see my photo albums from previous years by clicking here and here .
Special Investigations agent Rebecca Burton took her usual spot within the Café Expresso coffee house, a corner booth, where she could face the door without being conspicuous. She removed her dark fedora from atop her head and shook loose her long hair. Several bright red strands fell in front of her eyes. She brushed them over with an impatient wave of her hand.
The café catered to college students attending Butler University. Though Rebecca was several years older, she loved the energy. The youthful creativity released itself into the room, auras that rejuvenated her without hampering or tampering with the energy of the people around her.
This was why she scheduled most of her more problematic appointments here. The Café Expresso proved itself a great place to meet new clients and size them up before taking on their cases. Meeting here put people off their guard. Much less formal, people tended to open up to her more quickly.
It was also a good place to meet when she didn’t trust someone not to try something stupid or dangerous if they were in private.
As if on cue, a dumpy, middle aged woman stepped through the door. Sparkle. Such a drama queen.
Sparkle’s tacky dyed blond hair–so blond as to look yellow–was outdone by the purple cloak. The upraised hood extended into a cape that flowed behind her when she walked. As she adjusted the cloak, Rebecca noticed a streak of purple in the dyed blonde. she wore beneath the cloak a tattered black dress that may have been quite formal a couple decades ago.
Rebecca shook her head. Such a disgrace. Hard to believe at one time they’d apprenticed together under the same master as young neophytes learning white magic within the Kelranian Order.
Sparkle’s gaze swept the room until she spotted Rebecca. Bright red-glossed lips parted into a smile to reveal crooked teeth. “Hello, honey!” Sparkle called from across the room and started toward her. “So good to see you again.” Rebecca cringed. Where did this witch go wrong, Rebecca mused, even as she figured Sparkle was probably thinking the exact same thing about her.
Sparkle sat herself in the booth across from Rebecca while Stella–a college-aged waitress–approached. “Hi, Rebecca,” said Stella. Rebecca counted Stella Templar as part of her inner circle. Besides serving a great cup of coffee, Stella kept her eyes and ears open for anything she thought Rebecca would want to know. Stella and Rebecca had developed an understanding. When Rebecca entertained a guest, Stella’s job was to make sure they remained undisturbed. “What can I get you and your,” Stella hesitated, “friend?”
“The usual for me,” said Rebecca, referring to a mocha espresso, extra hot.
“Hot tea for me, black, three sugars,” said Sparkle. At Stella’s startled look, Sparkle added, “I like devouring sweet things….you sweet thing.”
Stella turned to Rebecca, her confusion obvious.
“Just order a drink. Sparkle, don’t intimidate the help.”
“You’re no fun.”
Art Bonnie Wasson
Rebecca shrugged off the comment. “Actually, that’s why we’re meeting. In spite of my warning, you’re continuing to have way too much fun. You keep using your magic for personal profit and to cause mischief.”
“This again? What’s the matter? Don’t you like cheap gas?”
“I was referring to the North Korean internet crash.”
“Oh, honey,” Sparkle waved a hand. “No one paid me; I did that one for fun.”
“Sooner or later, your shenanigans could expose all of us, including those of us who are trying to actually do some real good.”
“Oh, give it a rest.’ Sparkle folded her hands in front of her, exposing knuckles covered in costume jewelry. “Don’t you have a demon to fight or something, Tesh Ke Ra?” She snarled Rebecca’s Kelranian title at her.
Stella returned and deposited the two steaming mugs. While Sparkle still ranted, Rebecca gripped hers by the handle without glancing Stella’s direction.
“Seriously, Rebecca, we’re on the same side here. I swore my allegiance to you years ago. Now mind your own business and let me get back to mine.”
“You’re allegiance is irrelevant if you continue to flaunt your powers.”
Sparkle scoffed. “I never figured you’d turn out to be such a coward.”
Sparkle leaned across the table and glared. “If you’d just take the fight to the real enemy and stop all this secret agent nonsense, you and I would be sitting here today drinking a toast to your victory.” Sparkle waved a hand over the lip of her mug as she steeped the teabag by its string. “Instead, you’re whining about actions I’ve taken while you continue to be too scared to do the same.”
“We can’t risk exposing ourselves, Sparkle. If you continue to use your magic in front of normals, they’ll hunt you down and expose you. And I don’t know if I can protect you if that happens.”
“Nonsense, honey. Didn’t you get the memo? Science is in, magic is out. I’m a charlatan. A fraud. And those comments are from my satisfied clients. I do something miraculous right in front of them, and I’m not a witch. I’m not a sorceress. I’m a ‘masterful entertainer with impenetrable slight-of-hand’.” She sighed. “I love my adoring public.”
“You can’t count on that.”
“Oh, no? Maybe you need a demonstration.”
Rebecca bristled. “Don’t even think about it.”
Sparkle chuckled and raised her mug. Again, she tugged on the tea bag. “Just as I said. You’re a coward.”
The retort Rebecca had prepared stopped short as a wave of dizziness overcame her. At the same time, a sickly cinnamon aroma permeated the air. Too late, she realized her mistake as Sparkle removed her teabag from her mug and set it on the saucer.
Rebecca found her voice. “Aero…magic? You’re using Aero-magic…on…me?”
“Oh, don’t fret, honey. I wouldn’t seriously hurt the Tesh Ka Ra. That would be disloyal, not to mention….unkind. But I’m not above some…what word did you use…shenanigans, to prove a point.”
Sparkle chuckled, reached out, and set Rebecca’s coffee to the side. “No spilling,” she chided. “That looks hot.” Rebecca fell forward and the room faded to black.
****
Stella took care of the other two occupied booths. She tore off the guest check from the printer. Rebecca’s entertaining a real whack job. I hope they finish up quick before she scares off the dinner rush.
She closed in on the table and stopped. The creepy bag lady sat in her spot, sipping her tea. Rebecca’s drink had been set off to the side, but Rebecca herself was gone. Odd. Rebecca would have had to walk past her to go to the restroom. She deposited the guest check. “Uh….I’ll just leave this.”
The creepy lady smiled. Stella wished she hadn’t. “That’s fine, sweet thing.” She didn’t want the creepy lady to call her “sweet thing.” either.
“Did she….leave something out in her car?” Something smelled funny, pungent. Was it the woman, or was that some strange tea flavor she’d never noticed before?
The creepy lady raised the cup to her lips. “I don’t know where she went, sweet thing.”
Hey, there’s an image on our mug. I never noticed that before. She looked at the rectangular art print. Looked like a red haired mermaid of some sort, like that cartoon. But….wait, the mermaid looked an awful lot like Rebecca Burton.
Without waiting for an invitation, Stella seated herself across from the creepy lady and squinted at the image. “What…the….that can’t be real.”
The mermaid image had Rebecca’s red hair and even wore Rebecca’s fedora. Mermaids don’t wear fedoras. Stella realized how particularly stupid that sounded, and so she chose not to say it. Instead, what came out was “How did you do that?” She pointed at the mug.
The creepy lady turned the mug around to look at the print, a frown on her face. “Wow, that look’s a lot like Agent Burton, doesn’t it?”
“Quit kidding with me.”
“But it can’t be, can it? That would be absurd.”
Stella shook her head, and the cloudiness cleared. What had they been saying? Rebecca a mermaid on a coffee mug? How ridiculous. What was she thinking? “That’s awesome, lady. What a great trick. Enjoy your tea.” Stella stood. Best not to waste this nice woman’s time.
****
Finally, she could move again!
Rebecca slumped in the booth, furious. Images filled her mind of what she would do to Sparkle as soon as she regained her senses, even as she cursed her own stupidity. She commanded her body to get up, grab that witch by the hair, and throw her out a window, but her legs and arms couldn’t obey.
She just laid there, spasming, as she waited for the toxin to wear off.
She’d been trapped, frozen, held in place behind a barrier, her body twisted into a bizarre still image, her eyes unable to close, unable to talk or move. Behind the barrier, Stella gawked at her, but Rebecca couldn’t respond. She realized through their dialog what must have happened, though she had no clear idea what she might have looked like.
She found her voice. “You dare…to mock…me?”
“Oh, don’t be that way, honey. We’re still friends, aren’t we?”
Sparkle was no longer sitting across from her. She’d come around to Rebecca’s side of the table and now sat next to her in the booth. Rough hands grabbed Rebecca by the collar and lifted her up. “Oooh, you are angry, aren’t you? You have your cranky face on.”
“I’m going to—”
“Watch yourself, Agent Burton. You don’t want to do anything conspicuous that will draw attention to yourself, now, do you?”
Rebecca slumped, but caught herself with her arms. She could feel strength return by the second.
“Look at you. Pathetic,” snarled Sparkle. “We’re gods among sheep. And yet you prostrate yourself to blend in. Why? You can walk above the clouds. No one would stop you. No one would even notice. There are ‘explanations’, honey.” She held her hands out to mimic quote marks. “I’m proof of that. I’m your best friend, and you don’t even know it.”
“You’re nothing of the sort. I want you out of my sight and out of the state by tonight. Or nothing will keep me from finding you, and then you don’t want to know what will happen.”
Sparkle shrugged. “Well, that’s gratitude for you. But remember what I said. One day, sooner than later, you’ll need my help. Because I’m willing to do what you’re not. And when that day comes, I’ll just have to try to forget all the indignities you’ve caused me.”
“That I’ve caused you?” Rebecca’s voice failed, but not because of any toxin.
Sparkle grabbed the receipt and called out, “Oh, Stella! Come here, you sweet thing.”
The waitress appeared. “Yes, ma’am?”
Sparkle handed Stella the receipt, along with a crisp green bill.
“Wow, thank you, ma’am.”
“Oh, you earned it, sweet thing.”
“Hey, that was a neat trick with the mug.”
Sparkle flashed a smile at the waitress even as she held Rebecca’s eyes with a gaze of her own. “You liked that? Oh, that’s an old trick, but it’s still a crowd pleaser, don’t you agree, Rebecca?” Sparkle exaggerated a frown. “Oh, Rebecca’s not feeling very well right now. I’ll leave her to you, Stella.” Sparkle rose to her feet and headed toward the door. “How about getting her a nice cup of tea?”
Rebecca Burton is a main character in the paranormal series.
Sparkle appears in the Rebecca Burton short story Backstage Pass.
So today is Cyber Monday and Seventh Star Press is putting two of my titles on sale (plus an anthology in which I can be found) for 99 cents each. Respectively, with page links, they are:
Haunting Blue, the first of the Paranormal Trilogy: Haunting Obsession, the standalone followup in the Paranormal Trilogy; Vampires Don’t Sparkle, a short story collection that includes my popular short story Robot Vampire.
If you have not read my books before, this is a great opportunity to jump in at a huge savings. If you have, please consider purchasing an ebook as a gift for a friend.
If you’re wondering how else you can support me, please email, tweet, or share on Facebook the link to this blog on your wall. Post the videos, If you feel inclined to praise the books when you do so, that might also help.
Thanks for your consideration. Whatever happens from this is every bit as much from the efforts of my readers as it is from me. Have a great Cyber Monday.
After months of preparation and weeks of teasing, I can finally share the big news about the NEW ORIGINAL collection of holiday stories co-edited with my good friends John F. Allen, E. Chris Garrison and me.
The anthology is called Gifts of the Magi: A Speculative Holiday Collection and features new tales by our friends and ourselves, most of whom have series’ in progress, and feature a story set in the world of that series. And yes, I have a new story in this collection.
That’s right, Blue Shaefer and Rebecca Burton are returning in a brand-new short story that takes place on Christmas Eve! In it, Rebecca gets word that someone is trying to cause trouble for Blue, so she crashes in on Blue and Chip’s celebration, and they’re off on another paranormal adventure. I think it strikes a great balance between addressing her past and setting her up for an exciting future. The title, of course, could only be Blue Christmas. I hope you all love it as much as I do.
Besides featuring a new story for Christmas, Gifts of the Magi offers a number of other firsts. It’s my first attempt at co-editing an anthology (a stressful endeavor that can test the strongest bonds and make them even more strong afterwards) and my first venture into indie publishing under a new brand, in a co-partnership between John, Chris and me, SFG Publishing. It’s our first attempt at supporting a local charity. In this case, every cent raised goes toward Indy Reads Books and the good work they do.
For those who follow me on Facebook and social media, you know that my R.J. Sullivan page features a sort of mascot with some regularity. It started off as a one-post joke that drew such positive attention that I made it a regular thing.
I am not a morning person, so paired with that, is the fairly standard need to write in the mornings which leads to the also standard need for morning coffee and lots of it. Among our eclectic collection of mugs is one of The Little Mermaid, with images of Ariel from the Disney movie. I believe it was a lark gift, but since I am a fan, I worked into the collection. So as social media allows, I took a photo and posted something along the lines of “real men aren’t afraid to drink from Little Mermaid mugs.” The string of comments that followed told me I was onto something, so I made a comment whenever the mug came up in the rotation.
Soon the mug developed a sort of cult following among my readers, with requests to bring the talisman to conventions, speculation of the magical powers it must have, and more.
Thus is the origin of the Legend of the Magical Mermaid Mug.
It was an honest accident. While I ran an errand outside the house, Mrs. RJ accidentally elbowed the mug, which resulted in a fatal fall. I came home to the bad news, took a photo of the remains, and posted them for the mourning to begin. Comparisons to a certain leg lamp in a certain holiday tale were inevitable and amusing. Posts of shock and horror echoed on the social media sphere for days (well, maybe only in my head).
Even as I was preparing a virtual funeral for the beloved mug. a miracle occurred. Well, okay, hardly a miracle, but kidding aside, a really cool thing happened.
A Facebook follower and fan of the Magical Mug by the name of Michael James Oetting took the time to examine the photos of the mythical Mermaid Mug, and search ebay until he found an exact duplicate (shiny white, without the wear and tear). He purchased the mug and had it shipped to my address.
I love my readers!
He can expect some very nice autographed things coming his way in the near future.
In any case, what started out as a wake has turned into a dedication ceremony, as this Friday, we put Magical Mermaid Mug II to full active duty, brewing the potent broth of magical muse-coffee that keeps me composing (or something). To make the most of it (like I haven’t already) we’re throwing a virtual party, and you’re all invited.
So Friday, noon to 6 pm, We’re giving away FREE ebooks all day, awesome titles donated by my talented author peeps. Unlike most contests, you can’t just raffle your way to a win, you need to know your Little Mermaid. We’re playing Little Mermaid Trivia all afternoon. All questions and answers will be pulled from the Disney classic. I rewatched the DVD last night and think I’ve come up with some stumpers, so KNOW YOUR LITTLE MERMAID.
I have already spoken to a great extent about what a terrific time I had at Imaginarium catching up with old friends and to meeting new ones. Some success stories are public and have been circulated around. Others are a bit more private. I have decided to share bits of this private story.
D.A. (Alex) Adams is a talented author of epic fantasy. He had been accepted at my publisher as one of the Seventh Star stable of authors before me. When we first met at Fandomfest in 2012, his was the only series of books out by the awesome Bonnie Wasson and he coveted having to share her with me. And who can blame him.
RJ, Alicia Justice and Alex Adams/, Fandomfest 2012.
Alex and I sat next to each other for several hours that weekend, and had lots of time getting to know each other. I watched a loving father engage with his child while on vendor duty (not an easy thing). We talked about writing and being part of a small press family. He shared his opinion–often bluntly–about being a teacher in a collegiate environment that was morphing into a system toxic for both students and teachers. He spoke of tremors in his hands, a lifelong affliction which seemed then to be under control. He had a mane of blond hair, matching beard and mustache, and a twinkle of optimism in the eyes.
In the years since, I have read his blog posts with interest, in which he speaks with the same blunt honesty about the devastating impact of divorce, the growing negative impact of social media, and the toxic college environment from which he eventually separated himself. He also spoke of a health condition that remains as mysterious as it is debilitating, which brings me to a few days ago.
Alex and RJ at Imaginarium 2014.
I say somewhat shamefaced that when Alex approached me, I had to look twice and finally reference his name badge to figure out who was addressing me. The blond mane was gone, the twinkle diminished, though I still see some fight in those eyes. We had several conversations that weekend, chatted about how his health has affected his everyday life, but also about old time rock n roll, the joy of writing, the unity of the writing community, and more. He said he’d just had some tests which would determine next steps with his condition. I was glad I had a chance to get caught up with this great guy.
Then a couple of days later, his next blog post went up. The test had revealed nothing–that there was no plan of treatment, and that he honestly didn’t know what to do.
Alex had no sooner posted this on his blog when something really cool happened.
Dave Mattingly of Blackwyrm Publishing (one of several small press publishers in the region who regard their competition as CINO–Competition in Name Only (I just made that up, feel free to steal it)) (and the sentence nominated for the most complicated series of parenthetical asides in a blog post ever–your welcome)–set up a fundraising page that lets the public help. Why? Because the publishing community just rocks that way, and Dave is one of the hardest rockers out there.
Before I go any further, I would be remiss not to mention what Alex himself is quick to point out. Alex writes very cool epic fantasy adventure, and you can support him in a very direct way by buying his books. Check them out here.
As of this writing, the Brotherhoopd has raised $930.00 of a proposed $1,000.00 in only four days. That in and of itself says much of the generosity of this community. I expect very soon, maybe by the time you read this, the “goal” will be raised. However, anyone who knows anything about the medical field knows that $1,000.00 doesn’t get you very far. So let’s keep going, blow that number away.
Please donate and boost the signal. Thanks for listening.
Here’s where I brag about what an awesome time I had, that you didn’t have, because you chose to do something other than go to Imaginarium in Louisville, KY, last weekend. Ready, here we go.
With perfect weather and essentially a one highway route, the drive from Indy to Louisville could not have gone better. John F. Allen and I made the drive in a tad over two hours. The hotel was easy access off the highway exit.
Speaking of easy access, I need to praise the layout of the Crowne Plaza Hotel. As someone restricted to walking short distances, the public accessible doors next to the showroom were terrific, and the elevator access to the rooms was great. Very compact and convenient all around. These things are a concern for me, and the floor plan was definitely created with convenience in mind.
Registration was fast and smooth. We were given immediate access to our tables to set up. Con buddy Eric Garrison (AKA E. Chris Garrison) joined us and we were set up before con start with time to mingle.
Fire drill posers.
At any convention, something has to go wrong, and at least this time it happened early with0ut serious consequences. I was never clear if what happened was a planned fire drill, a prank, or perhaps a lit cigarette, but whatever happened, the fire alarm went off, and the room full of vendors found themselves herded out the back doors into the parking lot for the next several minutes. I tucked up by the loading dock doors and waited it out.
I displayed my paranormal trilogy, plus my Lost Soles and Akira Lacquers‘ Virtual Blue nail polish. Everything received some love and attention, but the Lost Soles–the hand-stitched stuffed ghosts created by Mrs RJ and our three nerds in the making–were the big winner for my sales. How awesome is that?
Troll Under the Bridge tries to thumb-slap me.
Food, like other services, was easy and convenient. The hotel served an exceptionally large and yummy burger, dressed for a night out. Next to it was a nice grab-n-go kiosk. Friday night a group of us gathered at the local favorite Troll Under the Bridge Pub, and we even found a McDonald’s and Taco Bell for a convenient bite.
Ash Arceneaux, A.D. Roland, Ash Roland, Audra Steia, and me…wait, what?
I had two other special moments I need to mention: I was also reunited with Ms. Ash Roland, an author buddy who goes back early in my publishing journey. Ash was instrumental in securing my first publishing deal, created the first cover, the book trailer, and who I shadowed at Context in 2010 to learn the whole vending process. She’s a talented horror writer, artist, and friend, and it was terrific to see her again after a four year gap.
Also, through a happy coincidence, my brother and his wife traveled from Indy to Louisville to accompany my niece to visit a nearby college. They just happened to make reservations at the Crowne Plaza, and we had dinner together Saturday night.
I met a LOT LOT LOT of new people….so many, that if I attempted to name them, I would embarrass myself, so let’s just leave it at, you know who you are.
I did my best to impart whatever wisdom I could at my panels, and I know I learned a lot at the workshop.
What followed after was the masquerade dance, a room party, more at the dance, more at the room party, Otters were mentioned in inappropriate conversation, things got late, things got fuzzy. During the dance, Jordan Bell requested Cyndi Lauper (Goonies R Good Enough, whoop-whoop) on my behalf and several people chanted “Oh Awjay.”
Bottom Line: Imaginarium was a blast!! For a first year event, organization and efficiency far above expectations–perhaps the most well-run con I’ve been to. Kudos to Stephen Zimmer and Susan Roddey for that. Imaginarium was well worth the trip. It was an amazing networking and educational experience. They threw a great party. Sales were low, but that’s normal with any first year event. Make your plans now. This is the place to be next year.
This weekend is the first-ever Imaginarium Convention in Louisville, KY, a new reader- and writer-centric convention (in which Seventh Star Press is playing a starring role) darn well determined to be a mind-blowing experience or die trying.
I’ll be in the Seventh Star Press section with my Indy author peeps John F. Allen and Eric Garrison, selling my paranormal trilogy, the new Virtual Blue Nail Polish, and my Lost Soles. During vendor’s hours, you’ll find me at the booth most of the time, or I’m on panel duty at one of the following discussions:
Friday 5 PM Critique Groups: Positives & Negatives: Some people call them a blessing, others a curse. Here’s your chance to get the lowdown from published authors on critique groups and how they both help and harm writers. Moderator: Marian AllenOther Panelists: Matthew Barron, David Blalock, Andrea Judy, Kristen Kindoll
Saturday 10 AM Don’t Let Genre Get in Your Way: When you sit down to write do you find yourself trying to force your plot into a specific mold? It’s far past time you let your writing take flight without parameters. Come ask questions from our cross-genre panelists and learn the best way to write what you want to write on your own terms. Moderator: Robert KrogOther Panelists: A. Christopher Drown, Jackie Gamber, Georgia L. Jones,Terri-Lynne Smiles
11 AM Plotters vs. Pantsers: The age-old war rages on: are you a plotter or a pantser? Or are you something in between? Come hear our panelists talk about their storytelling prep work. Moderator: Denise VerricoOther Panelists: Cam Crowder, Mandi M. Lynch, Pamela Turner, M.B. Weston
Each batch is hand-mixed and completely non-toxic, created and offered exclusively by Akira Lacquer.
Virtual Blue Nail Polish: kickass color for punkgeeks and geekpunks everywhere, and the answer to the burning question: what does R.J. Sullivan offer that Stephen King doesn’t? Come by and grab your bottle this weekend!
Tomorrow: I’m posting all the details on how to stalk R.J. during Imaginarium weekend!
R.J. Sullivan Fiction 