Cut Me Off When I Can’t Feel My Feet – Seton Hill Retreat Day 2

Thursday was a somewhat calm day. Started off with going the previously mentioned monster module. Since two people were running the class, it was two hours long and when over the various archetypes of monsters that have been used and are still used today in all fiction. It was a solid class. It was sort of like getting the cheat sheet version of those “Encyclopedia of [insert monster]” books. It was kind of weird at times during the Zombie, Vampire, and Werewolf sections I was called on to talk about ways to modernize and reinvent those creatures, because they deal with my thesis and the books after. And I’m one of those people who are super paranoid about people taking my ideas, so I always had a copyright preamble before I spoke. Silly? You bet, but I never said I was the sanest kid on the block.

The rest of the day was pretty dull until dinner. That was when I got to talk shop with Gary Braunbeck, Tim Waggoner, and Scott A. Johnson. I got as a lot of questions that I, as a aspiring horror writer, have been wondering about with what I have noticed in just the past year since venturing out into the publishing world and trying to start making a name for myself. And I got a lot of great advice from all three, a lot that put me at ease.

But everything picked up at the infamous WPF Wine Social. I have to say, writers love their spirits and not the ones they call muses (well, I take that back, some do). Most of the night was going around and talking to other students I hadn’t seen yet since getting there, but I was lucky enough to get introduced to both Jeff Strand for the first time and actually get to meet Gary Frank for more that just a few moments like the last time I met him last year. It was the start of a beautiful friendship. A lot of that time was spent with Mike Arnzen and I trading comic jabs (is clown fetish is an endless resource) at some point I was given a task of impersonating Gimli from the Lord of the Rings movies. I know have 17th nickname, Lil’ Gim (“It still only counts as one!”). I also got to talk some with Lawrence Connolly and persuaded him to tray to grab people to the “after wine social” wine social back at the dorm. By doing that, though, Larry went on a mini rant on how much he loved the name of it, Farrel Hall, or in his mind I think, Feral Hall.

Alas, no one that wasn’t a student or staying in the dorms made it, lost of excuses of “planning to and went to change and ended up falling asleep.” Old Fogies! I jest…really…no, seriously, I do…I didn’t say I was jesting now, or then rather, just a blanket “I jest.”

So the booze came out, people imbibed, and truths starts flying. Lots of them in fact. So many that I started getting a headache. But my good friend Jared, really stole the night with he recounting of his mentor meeting and how he was able to even take Mike Arnzen back with what he wrote (and if anyone has even spent a modicum of time with him or read any of his books, nows that is a pretty tall order) and said to everyone that he wasn’t to be cut of from the alcohol until he could feel his feet. I left where he was only at his toes.

Gradually I found my way to a smaller, and quieter, gathering of alum and retreat guests, where I unwound and got to know many people I knew of, but never really met, including Sally Bosco. It was a good day, over all. Lots of introductions, lots of fun and hilarity. All of which no one would let me get on camera (grrs around to the extroverted introverts). And it didn’t do anything at all to prepare me for the next day. Signing Day!

Dun Dun Dun

~ by wdprescott on July 6, 2009.