The bar scene at ArmadilloCon: Not quite as odd as the bar scene in "Star Wars," but still full of strange characters. Among them (left to right), SF Signal's John DeNardo, author Joe McKinney, Adventures in SciFi Publishing's Brent Bowen, and author/scholar Matt Cardin.

I attended my first ArmadilloCon three years ago, after decades of staying clear of the SF convention circuit. My memories of cons past were of people in badly fitting Star Trek costumes haggling over toys and packing into hotel rooms to watch sixth-generation copies of anime shows.

If that’s also your memory of SF cons, listen up: ArmadilloCon is not that. Not by a long shot. It’s a con for writers, aspiring writers and people who love SF, fantasy and horror literature and art. Sure, there are a handful of people walking around in steampunk duds and few toys on sale in the dealer’s room, but mostly it’s about the books.

ArmadilloCon 32 was last weekend, and I spent a good portion of it hanging with author and Missions contributor Joe McKinney, podcaster and whisky expert Brent Bowen and the brilliant horror scholar and writer Matt Cardin (who also records eerily beautiful music, it turns out). The three of us put down unhealthy amounts of booze and spent quite a bit of time talking about our favorite obscure horror films. I also enjoyed hooking up with old friends Nicole Duson, an up-and-coming Austin writer, and John DeNardo of the brilliant SF Signal website.

This was the first year I participated in panel discussions, and they turned out to be a blast. During a panel on the New Weird, Neal Barrett Jr. and I agreed that there probably isn’t a New Weird, per se, since many writers — including Neal — have been weird for a long, long time. I also enjoyed my panel on the challenge of writing short stories, where I ended up between luminary authors Michael Bishop and Howard Waldrop (how the hell did I end up so lucky?). Finally, I ended up on a panel about H.P. Lovecraft’s enduring legacy with Matt Cardin and Don Webb, who displayed amazing knowledge of the author’s work. The always witty Joe R. Lansdale made a great case (and one I agreed with) that horror authors can learn far more from writers like Ray Bradbury, Robert Bloch and Flannery O’Connor.

Between all the panelizing, socializing and drinking, I managed to fit in a few readings. Stina Leicht read from her upcoming novel, which mixes Celtic mythology and the complicated politics of Northern Ireland. Can’t wait for that one to hit the stands. Joe McKinney’s Sunday afternoon reading of his story “Survivors” proved a great capper to the con.

This are more than 100 participants at this year’s Armadillocon, including guests Rachel Caine, Cat Conrad, Anne Sowards, Elspeth Bloodgood, Nancy Kress, Ilona Andrews and Michael Bishop. San Antonio will be well represented with myself, Scott Cupp and Joe McKinney in attendance.

Of course, the difference between Armadillocon and so many other cons is that the focus is on books rather than movies, TV shows and toys. In other words, there are a ton of creative panels covering all kinds of speculative fiction and (generally) no people walking around in wookie costumes.

I will be participating in the panels New Weird: Has the Old Normal Taken Over (5 p.m. on Friday), Trials and Tribulations of the Short Story (noon on Saturday) and Is Lovecraft Hurting Horror (11 a.m. on Sunday). I’ll also be doing a reading at 8:30 p.m. on Friday and 4 p.m. on Saturday and a 1 p.m. autograph session Saturday.

The con runs Aug. 27–29 at the Renaissance Hotel Austin, 9721 Arboretum Blvd. A three day membership is $50. Individual daily passes are available for $25 (Friday and Sunday) and $35 (Saturday).

Drop on by. If you haven’t been before, it’s quite a show. Even if no one is walking around in a wookie costume.

The first issue of Amazing Stories is just one of the items in Texas A&M's speculative fiction collection.

Don’t feel bad. Until a couple days ago, I hadn’t either.

I discovered their existence virtually via the online site for Texas A&M’s Science Fiction and Fantasy Research Collection. Seems the Aggies have amassed a 54,000-piece collection of speculative fiction plus related history and criticism, much of it Texas-related. The collection houses the papers and manuscripts of Chad Oliver, Michael Moorcock and George R. R. Martin. What’s more, it contains over 90 percent of the American science fiction pulp magazines published prior to 1980, including the 1923 debut issue of Weird Tales.

Perhaps even cooler, it’s all searchable by author, title, imprint, and subject terms via an online database.

As an added perk, the A&M site also includes Bill Page’s 1991 essay “Horny Toads and Ugly Chickens: A Bibliography on Texas in Speculative Fiction,” which draws the “Ugly Chickens” part of its title from Austin writer Howard Waldrop’s wildly imaginative short story of the same name.

“The mystique of the old west has long been an alluring subject for authors; even Jules Verne and Bram Stoker used Texans in stories,” Page writes. “As one reads science fiction and fantasy novels set in Texas, certain themes repeat themselves. There are, of course, numerous works about ghosts, vampires, and werewolves. Authors often write about invasions of the state, not only by creatures from outer space, but also by foreigners, including the Russians, the Mexicans, and even the Israelis.” (There he goes with another Howard Waldrop reference. This time, Waldrop and Jake Saunders’ novel “The Texas Israeli War.”)

The essay gives an exhaustive listing of Texas sf/fantasy/horror authors, both known (Robert E. Howard and Joe R. Lansdale) and not-so-known (Leonard M. Sanders and Joan Johnston), and a list of stories and books by non-Texans set in the Lone Star State. Bummer it’s almost 20 years old, though.

And while you’re there, you might as well peruse other features, including extensive bibliographies of Robert Heinlein, Judith Merril and Sam Moskowitz.

All told, the A&M site is an impressive resource for those of us who just can’t get enough Lone Star lore in our speculative fiction.

What a hatemongering dunce looks like.

I’m saddened and disturbed that the debate whether to build an Islamic community center two blocks from the former World Trade Center has gone on this long and with such ferocity.

Maybe it shouldn’t be a surprise, though.

People are pissed off about the economy, they’re fearful about the direction our country is headed, and I’m sure for many New Yorkers, the 9/11 attacks have left a painful wound that may never fully heal.

And once again, the cynical leaders of the American Right have stepped up to capitalize on all of this uncertainty and anger, fanning the flames of intolerance for their own political gain.

First it was a few New York politicians declaring Ground Zero “sacred ground” (as if there weren’t plenty of Muslims who died in the 9/11 attacks). Then it was Sarah Palin, who called the idea of a mosque near Ground Zero, “a stab in the heart” to families who lost loved ones there. Then Newt Gingrich, in a characteristically bizarre application of ass-backward logic, declared that the democratic United States shouldn’t permit a mosque near the World Trade Center site, “so long as there are no churches or synagogues in Saudi Arabia.”

I have no idea whether boneheads like Palin and Gingrich actually believe the shit they spew or whether it’s all just part of their effort to pander to the angry masses. Either way, their proclamations are in complete opposition to our nation’s core beliefs of tolerance and religious freedom, not  mention they play right into the hands of extremists who seek to paint the United States as the foremost threat to the Muslim world.

Give it a fucking rest.

Seems that grad school, on top of working a full-time job with a lengthy commute, writing, playing music and attempting to have a normal life takes a lot out of a guy. So much that it didn’t leave much time for blogging.

I now have a new job with a much shorter commute and more flexible schedule. Theoretically, that means I now have more time for writing and blogging. And hopefully I can get back on track with regular updates.

See you tomorrow.

Hawkwind's "Hall of the Mountain Grill": It doesn't get spacier than this.

Heard a fun story on NPR on the commute home last night.

Reporter Chris Boros used NASA’s recent discovery of water on the moon as an opportunity to delve into an exploration of science fiction in popular song. Just so you know, it dates back to a 1905 ditty called “Come Take a Trip in My Airship” (the first steampunk song, perhaps?). He also takes a look at flying saucers popping up in hillbilly music and in ’50s novelty records and briefly mentions the filk phenomenon and S.F. themes in ’70s prog rock.

Sadly, he missed an opportunity to mention Hawkwind, the penultimate space rock band, and to explore some of the trippier musical excursions into the stars (Gong, anyone?). Still, I can’t complain when NPR does a pretty good job mashup of two of my favorite subjects.

Necrotic Tissue: It's a contender

A few days ago, I received a comp copy of Necrotic Tissue No. 9 which contains my story “The Circus.”

Loved it. And not just because it contains one of my pieces. The digest-sized magazine clocks in at around 120 pages, contains a diversity of high-quality horror prose and one of the best interviews I’ve read with Texas scribe Joe R. Lansdale. Not to mention, the colorfully grotesque cover looks pretty sharp. This mag has turned into a real contender.

It’s nice to see NT evolve from an online publication into a print pub of such high quality. Lord knows, with fewer and fewer paying outlets for short horror fiction, we need it.

Telling it like it was: Howard Zinn

Author, teacher and activist Howard Zinn has died at age 87.

Zinn’s “A People’s History of the United States” remains an influential leftist overview of American history, calling Christopher Columbus out for genocide and trumpeting the contributions of labor, minorities and women. And to think the book, which has been through myriad reprints, initially hit the stands when Reagan was in the White House.

“I can’t think of anyone who had such a powerful and benign influence,” linguist Noam Chomsky, a close friend of Zinn’s, told the AP. “His historical work changed the way millions of people saw the past.”

I agree completely.

As a writer toiling in obscurity, I was also heartened to learn that “A People’s History” was initially published with next to no publicity and a run of 5,000 copies. Didn’t stop the book from selling millions, mainly through word of mouth.

First, a sinkhole begins swallowing up a cookie-cutter suburban neighborhood in San Antonio. Then a man in Mission guns down his brother in argument over who gets to use the crapper first. 

And now we’re back to the Alamo City, where animal-welfare folks are up in arms about teen-lycanthrope Wolfie Blackheart cutting the head off a dead dog during her adventures in home taxidermy.

It just doesn’t get any better.

If luck holds out, it will be raining centipedes by Saturday.