Musings

Gen Con Revocation of Welcome

Today, I received my first email from Gen Con:

On Dec 11, 2024, at 3:11 PM, Mike Boozer [email address removed] wrote:

E.D.E. Bell,

This email is being sent to inform you that, effective immediately, you are no longer welcome to attend Gen Con conventions and/or events.  This includes attending Gen Con Indy 2025, as well as any virtual Gen Con events, and any other Gen Con-branded events or conventions that should occur going forward. This decision is final, and not appealable. 

This action is being taken based on your online behavior which is inconsistent with that expected of a Gen Con attendee in good standing. 

image001.pngPolicy Team | Gen Con, LLCwww.gencon.com

Confidential and Proprietary: The information contained herein is only intended for the designated recipient and is not to be forwarded, copied, or otherwise disclosed without express written permission from Gen Con LLC.

I responded as honestly as I could, and would like to share that response with you.

Mike Boozer,

This is a hearbreakingly sad decision as I have never once been allowed to speak to anyone about Gen Con about what occurred, despite my years of volunteer work, inlcuding helping write guidelines and resolving issues for the Author’s Avenue and three years volunteering tremendous time with my whole heart for the Writer’s Symposium.

Again, I spoke online because Gen Con refused to speak to me in private. And now, you’re doing the same thing a second time, as I will need to put this publicly on the record, so that people know that attending or assisting, even quietly, is not a choice offered to Maurice.

Gen Con was an event that was part of my heart and soul, and to take it away from me based on doing exactly what I was brought in to do as a mentally disabled person asked to create a more inclusive space, and at the direct request of BIPOC participants and leadership, is particularly cruel. And shortsighted. Marginalized writing communities saw exactly what my “behavior” was and will find your calling it inconsistent with Gen Con’s policies quite awkwardly…honest. And revealing.

I would very much like an invitation back at the point when it is seen that I did right by our communities and was, in no way, the problem here.

Also, I stand by that Derek Guder behaved abusively (and possibly illegally), and is most likely, well, almost certainly, lying to you about what happened. There are others out there who have reached out with similar stories, thanking me for my bravery, but still terrified to speak about them. So you’ve done that. For now.

I don’t know if you’re issuing a similar ban to Erik Scott de Bie, who quoted Gen Con sources admitting to systemic racism online, or if the primary factor is who is friends with Derek rather than who is telling the truth (meaning truth in context, not skewed fragments of fact).

There are people, many of whom have depression and disabilities, who look forward to seeing me every year at Gen Con. Right now, there is a mostly non-verbal young person who is preparing for my micro fiction workshop because it’s the one place all year he feels safe to speak. If I knew how to contact his parents so that he is not devastated, I would. If you have a heart, perhaps you can look into the records and try.

I will maintain the documentation that you’ve never seen because you’ve not allowed me to speak to anyone, but not release them because my priority now is ensuring Maurice’s success in continuing the same work.

With regret and with hope,

Emily.

Final Thoughts

My heart is broken over all of this. I did my best. And it’s cost me more than you know, and more than I’m going to say, because that was never the point.

I am grateful to all those who have continued to offer their support. (Emotionally, most of all.)

My chin stays up, and I’ll continue. I love playing games, I love talking about craft, I love being with our people, and I hope there will be places that welcome me to do so.

It is important to note that this was never about me. It was about a committee, who as a whole, refused to be forced to disinvite a Black woman Special Guest. (Even in their alternate narrative that we could balance her by adding more “appealing” white people, that would have forced us to reduce funds already promised to BIPOC, which they refused to let us explain.) All this while Gen Con itself did not provide their own Author Guest of Honor, as had been done historically. That’s the truth; that’s the “interpersonal issue” Derek Guder pinned on me to deflect from what he did. I tried to do this quietly. I said nothing for nine months. I asked for help. I put my best into the event. So any suggestion that I shouldn’t have spoken out must take those previous nine months of my silence and good faith efforts into account, as well as Gen Con’s refusal to even now, ever once, talk to me in private.

I need to repeat one last time: I was never the issue here. Derek Guder, who we’d never interacted with in any manner, came at us hard the second that he heard one of our Special Guests switched from a white man to Mikki Kendall. There were emails, calls, messages, all urging us to reconsider this. Specifically about this one person, who clearly went too far for someone. Documentation. Multiple witnesses. Which Derek probably has no idea about. All before his calling of the “emergency” meeting.

All of this happened before he, by his own words, even knew who I was. My role was, during that meeting, as Programming Lead whose specific job managing Guest invitations was, I got in the way of him forcing our committee, all of whom were asked to be at this meeting, to disinvite her. Marian told us at the time, she’d never seen him so mad. Consider that? Never so mad? It’s quite telling.

His priority then shifted to three calls, 8 hours total, of demanding that Chris remove me or there would be consequences. Discussions about the guests, about our inclusion plan, about working better together, about a way ahead – were all disallowed; the only focus was removing me. Chris refused; he finally just said he couldn’t keep going in circles on the same topic – I was maybe the best programming lead out there, and he stood by me. So their claims of why I am banned are simply nonsense by the facts. I would have resolved it quietly; I tried repeatedly and over the course of months. Derek Guder wanted my blood the minute I said we were not going to change our Special Guests after they’d been invited, and he added Chris to the list the moment he refused to remove me. Everything since then is concocted.

Let’s not lose the focus here. This spring, not long after our brief but terrible interaction with Derek Guder, Larry Correia said on Twitter that Gen Con Writers’ Symposium used to be good but a “woke” committee had taken over. (Per my memory! If someone has the tweet, I can add it.) Within minutes of Gen Con dismissing our whole committee (yes, that included Maurice, but by their email yesterday it’s not clear they…knew that?) that same language with a picture of my face was featured on well-known right-wing sites, with thousands of views within minutes.

I can’t stand talking about this again, but I think people need to know, as Gen Con has quite a lot of power in this community and credibility and safety are critical, especially going into these next few years. And they had a choice and still have a choice. Any suggestion that my speaking out has taken options away from them, when they’ve refused to interact with me in any capacity, is not taking into account the aspects and dynamics here. They could change their mind any time. They could want to do right. To do the work. We could resolve it and move on. They are the ones putting on the record that my honest account of our attempts at inclusion work is “inconsistent” with their policy, too frightened to even allow me in the building with them. I hope you will also remember power dynamics in this. I am a fully mentally disabled volunteer, who was brought onto the committee because of that, and this is a powerful corporation.

So it comes down to this. Disinviting a Black activist who was a stellar choice for Special Guest, because someone out of nowhere had an issue with her and specifically her is inconsistent with my policy.

I hope you will understand that people with some privilege need to take the punch sometimes. I hope you will understand that taking the punch only works if marginalized people do not have to be in its line. If we aren’t willing to take any hits, to give up any sliver of our privilege, what are we here for?

I despise everything about this. The people it’s hurt. I wish with all my heart someone with more influence than me had been willing to resolve it. I want you to know, if this has hurt you, I’m so deeply, truly, sorry. I did my best. I still am trying to.

I made two mistakes, both of which I have learned from, for the future: 1) Not being certain in advance that people of privilege would stand with me and allow a quiet resolution (though that would have had to be in advance, and we just had no idea something like this would happen). 2) Reaching out to Peter Adkison because so many people told me he was a good guy.

My plan was to lie low and let the Symposium continue and succeed. But if Gen Con is going to double-down that standing up for inclusion work is against their policy, I feel, again, forced to speak. I am not saying any more on the details of this. If people want to let Gen Con know that my treatment and now eternal banishment, all after repeatedly refusing to even have a fully confidential private conversation before, then, or now, maybe isn’t the good look for them they think it is, that’s up to them. Or perhaps this is the look they are going for, and then, well, people have the right to know that too. But the priority right now has to be uplifting writers and storytelling.

As for me? I was quietly doing my job, well, even by their account, and they came at us, for the one specific reason I’ve already stated. That’s the facts. It hurts, but I will continue, I will be ok, and I will keep promoting art in these scary times.

As for Gen Con? Yeah, they “won” this, I guess, if they consider this winning. I hope they stop acting obsessed with me and instead put that energy into supporting Maurice, who has now lost a significant chunk of the volunteer labor he had the last three years, as he and I and many others worked together.

I hope you will all support Maurice Broaddus and his work. The Writers’ Symposium changes lives, and under Maurice’s guidance, I am so glad, so grateful, that it will continue to.

Last edited (for clarity, not substance) 16 December 2024.

A Primal Scream of Love

Sitting here in America on 07 November 2024, the world is on my mind.

Again and again, I have seen and processed the harm caused by love-starved humans who believe the whispered lies about an “enemy” from the greedy lips of someone they want to like them. This becomes especially lethal when that listener also operates primarily from a sense of self.

Meaning, there are few things more powerful than a person craving love. But for whom is the difference: For themself or for those they already touch? Or for true love – a connection across this planet, the sort of love that warms in exchanging a smile with a stranger you’ll never see again.

I crave that second kind of love. As I have as I’ve spent the last many hours adrift. In the waves. Not away from anchors, but without the ability to steady. Reaching for those I could, and yearning, silently but without apology, for those I could not.

Then, today, I saw that Chytomo has featured The Factory by Ihor Mysiak, translated by Yevheniia Dubrova and Hanna Leliv as their Book of the Month. And the primal scream inside me just raised its hand. A tension I didn’t know how to resolve.

Now I know how to let it out.

Let’s talk about Love.

I am going to use the term “crazy” understanding that it can be hurtful. Yet, I am a mentally disabled, neurodivergent person who has suffered from both anxiety and complex post-traumatic stress disorders since I was very, very young, and have lived a life of being warned, even scolded, not to be crazy. Not to be weird. Not to be too much. Not to make people uncomfortable.

In almost all cases, what these terms meant were:

  • To show vulnerability.
  • To show emotion.
  • To express love.

In other words, to be authentic.

I’ve talked in other places about oppression (and will continue to do so) but oppression is really just greed. Some people want more than others. This requires false hierarchies, which requires a dampening of any empathy or expression that might lead to the dissolution of those falsely drawn lines.

So – waves hands around for this time – authenticity, the pure acceptance and expression of love for our true self and that of others, is the antithesis of oppression.

And no, that doesn’t mean being yourself or telling your stories prevents oppression on its own. It means that the societal normalization of authenticity does, eventually, do that, because it fosters empathy and communication while debunking the false rules manufactured to hold people down. And we have more power, so much more power now to do that, in a world that’s connected. They know that. So, so must we.

Now, what does this have to do with a Book of the Month?

Back to crazy. Марина (Maryna), the wife of the late author Ihor Mysiak (he was killed at age 29 by Russia), and I connected online. We don’t speak each other’s languages, so we were cautious regarding translations by “the robots” as I call them. Because of the need for directness, I’ve tried to speak directly and without idioms, and so it came about that Maryna said that she can see that I am crazy, and that Ihor was crazy too. Good crazy.

I was … thrilled to hear this, because I had sensed it. I think it was why I connected so much to this author, this poet, this story. If I am too much? Ihor was very much too much.

I think poets tend to be. And all my life, I’ve also been a poet. I’ve just not shared those poems. That, soon, will change.

As for Ihor, the writing of his novel is subtle. Clever. He weaves concepts of joy and family and purpose through this quirky tale of a dilapidated factory.

I am in love with his work. His words. His vision he saw in them. His radiance and pure belief in people. In Love.

It’s why I adore this novel so deeply. It is many things. It is highly a metaphor for military life, through the lens of a volunteer defending one’s home. But it is an absolute reflection on life, death, happiness, joy, authority, and rebellion.

Putting all this eloquently is this review by Anastasia Herasymova of Chytomo.

I love this line:

“The English translation of The Factory, accomplished by translators Yevheniia Dubrova and Hanna Leliv and published by Atthis Arts with the support of the Ukrainian Book Institute, is not just a literary work. It is a tribute to Mysiak, and a reminder that, although creative work does immortalize its author, it does not reduce the pain and bitterness of losing them.”

Yes, joy. Yes, pain. Our grappling between them, between what we can’t change and what we could.

Ihor himself was saying this within the pages of The Factory. It is an exploration of the layers that make us alive, even in the presence of death, without toxicity: positive or negative.

That he wrote such an exploration, with hope and reflection, and then saw his friend Dage killed in the siege of Azovstal (yes, a factory) and then was killed himself, tries to break my heart, but it cannot. It wounds it, bleeds it, pulls it, weights it, lifts it, fuels it. Because Ihor was crazy. And I am crazy. Good crazy.

And I will scream for every day I have left alive, the same scream I know that he would join in with me – that we believe in Love. We believe in people. We believe in humanity. In authenticity. We will not hide our poetry. We will not hide our Love.

We will fight for Love, this time and every time. Whatever the consequence.

I do not have a conclusion for you. I am mindful of safety and the difference in each of our situations. I do have that conclusion for me. And I will scream it again, and again. Love.

Love. Love. Love.

Messy love. Fierce love. Love we might survive, and might not.

But our love. Our connection. Our world.

This is what I will do – this is what our press, Atthis Arts, will continue to do.

Both of our book releases this month deal with these themes of grief and life, at a time I think many of us will need these reflections. And both from very different cultural perspectives, both through the genre-blending art of the fantastic, and neither through the eyes of North American or Western European fantasy. These books found me when I needed them.

Perhaps you will need them too. I hope that you enjoy them.

With my love – my deep, unapologetic love –
Emily.
07 November 2024
Ferndale, Michigan.

Here is what we have to offer you this November. I hope you will give these stories and creations a look. And if you appreciate what our press is doing, please follow us where you follow things, and please let people know!

November 2024 – Events

Please also give a look to and consider supporting the work of:

And if you have any extra resources, a few dollars is wonderful, we hope you’ll support our friends around the neighborhood:

Gen Con Writers’ Symposium Dismissal

This post was last edited on 12 September 2024.

I am only speaking for myself, but this is my account.

On 10 September, our leadership met with Gen Con to present our report including requests and improvements for next year. Gen Con listened to the report and asked questions for the full hour, and then said quickly, right before ending the call, that the show went “really well” and all our work was appreciated, and also no one on the current committee will be invited back next year.

This is extremely distressing to me. The loss to the community is significant but there are also huge emotional, practical, and financial losses for my family. We were investing, a whole community was investing in a long-term plan for inclusion. You don’t turn these things fully around in a couple years. It also sends the message that a pro-inclusion committee can be mistreated and then dismissed without consequence.

I posted this that evening: The GCWS committee was informed tonight by Gen Con, with no reason given, that our show went “really well” but no people on the committee will be invited back next year. I will be requesting a meeting with Mr. Adkison. At a minimum, I would like a reason given for our dismissal, because without a reason I will only have my own documentation to show, regarding how Gen Con addressed issues of both race and disability.

Many people were upset that I spoke publicly and also used the terms “race” and “disability”.

I spoke publicly, because I’d stayed silent all year, and this was the result. Based on that treatment, I had no confidence anything I said internally would make its way to Mr. Adkison. I used the terms not as a threat, but to convey why this is serious and why I want to talk to him personally.

I am also hearing from many people that my removal from Origins Game Fair also over issues related to inclusion (they write “race” as if they aren’t ready to believe me) is evidence that I must be a problem. I do not have energy to defend my integrity or the existence of documentation. And no, it means that cons are working very hard to discredit someone who is in and doing the work. Origins Game Fair has a reputation for being a con very comfortable in whiteness. Gen Con Writers’ Symposium used to have a reputation for being unfriendly to BIPOC and many other writing communities. The last two years, that changed. I’m discouraged but not surprised that in 2024, the reaction is still – two places can’t be fighting inclusion – you must be the issue.

I am also hearing that my tone is defensive. I’m exhausted, mentally disabled, and heartbroken. Care more about what happened than my tone.

I am requesting to talk to Mr. Adkison. If he will talk to me, privately, candidly, and openly, then perhaps all the people affected by this can at least have some peace.

I do not want to tell the story until I know if Mr. Adkison will speak to me. It would be better for him to hear it directly. Perhaps some of the elements of this can still be handled privately.

People are asking me to consider staying quiet until he speaks to me. I do not have confidence that my going silent will have that effect. I’d like to talk to him.

Update: A writer who has asked to remain anonymous has reached out to Mr. Adkison of Gen Con and he says he will not meet with me. So I will tell the story. I was hoping to try and resolve it privately but I am told this is not possible.

—

Everything started when we invited Mikki Kendall as a Special Guest. Marian McBride reached out and said her boss (Derek Guder) had “concerns” about Mikki, that she did not have draw or broad appeal. I heard the dogwhistles, but still explained why she was a good fit. The entire committee agreed disinviting her at this late point after she’d already accepted and for this reason would be inappropriate and harmful on multiple levels. We were told not to announce the guests, and were asked to an “emergency meeting” whose title was something like “Concerns regarding Special Guest Mikki Kendall”. Specifically, the whole committee was asked to be there.

I thought, oh good, we can explain our inclusion plans and why Mikki is an awesome choice.

The summary of that meeting was:

  • It was an ambush, stated to be a necessary dressing-down of the committee by someone who had no knowledge of what we did.
  • I was looked at in the eye and told, “I need you to realize that what you did was bad.” and also “You invited two Special Guests with no draw and no broad appeal. Isn’t that correct?”
  • We were repeatedly accused of funneling GCWS money for personal use.
  • At no point was I actually allowed to explain anything to Derek; he would not let me speak.

It is critical to note that a stated goal of this meeting (once we got into it) was that we would delay the announcement of Guests. This had real impact to real writers, who were already booking travel and being required to buy badges. We also didn’t want to ask writers to submit to the anthology without a contract and time was running out for that process, which was also central to our long-term inclusion plans. We were protecting the writers by refusing to let the issue be slow-rolled until we agreed to disinvite Mikki.

Here is my contemporaneous documentation of that meeting, finished on 31 January and signed off on by three people at the time as accurate:

—

An emergency meeting was called by Marian for 30 January 2024, to address concerns about our invited guests, specifically Mikki Kendall’s lack of “broad appeal”. She requested that as much of the full committee be present.

Chris started the meeting by introducing the committee. He said, as the subject was questions on programming invitations, I would be taking his questions. So I asked what questions he had.

Derek said his question was on the committee roles. He kept pressing Chris for answers on committee structure, and then Derek still stated he was not getting the roles of the committee. When I began to explain exactly the roles of the committee, he cut me off, and said he didn’t want to discuss that, he had things he wanted to say to us and we needed to listen.

About twenty minutes into the meeting, I stated that I had not been asked any questions, and wanted to ensure that time didn’t run out before resolving that we would be announcing the Special and Invited Guests on February 1st. Derek stated we had a full hour “unless we had somewhere we needed to go” and said I needed to let him continue. I insisted on first telling Derek I needed him to hear that if we could not resolve the announcement of Guests, this would cause problems for Gen Con, and I was happy to explain why. He asked to continue talking, and resumed his comments. After another twenty minutes, I again noted the time and repeated my concern.

At this point, Marian told me I was no longer permitted to speak, closed her hand like lips, and made an down and up motion onto the desk or table to emphasize the point.

I repeated that I was speaking because I needed Derek to understand that delaying the announcement would cause difficulties for Gen Con and I was happy to explain why, and that I was concerned the meeting would end, he’d need to go, and that this time-critical issue would not be resolved. I repeated I had not been asked any questions.

At some point, he said that we had a different understanding of this meeting. I said we had clear documentation that the specific concern raised to us was Mikki Kendall. I asked if Mikki Kendall was a concern and Derek responded, he didn’t know Mikki Kendall, he hadn’t looked her up, and she was not the subject of this meeting or any concern. Chris said that all the emails to himself and also Seth were specifically about Mikki Kendall.

I again repeated that especially in that context, a delay of the announcement would cause problems for Gen Con as well, and I was happy to answer any questions about programming, but I’d not been asked any questions.

Derek repeated until the very end that he had “not yet made the decision” on our announcement. Almost at the very end, he said we should not delay it, he agreed that would cause problems, and again conveyed his disapproval of our committee.

From Derek:

  • Derek said he was not here to “lecture” us but his intent of the meeting was to tell us that he was displeased with our committee and things were going to have to change.
  • Derek repeatedly stated our committee was “bloated” and “top heavy”. When I began to explain what each member did instead of Chris, he cut me off, and said he was here to talk to us.
  • Derek stated that it was “self-evident” that we could not make any public statement about our event, nor could we invite panelists, without Gen Con’s review and approval. I said it might be reasonable but it was not self-evident to me after 20 years of never having had that request. He said it “should” be self-evident and it was concerning it was not.
  • Derek stated that perhaps we will go forward with the announcements, but “I need you to know that what you did was bad.” This was directed at me and in the context of my work putting together the Guest list. He also said he was “seeing” the complaints about the committee he had received, and that the committee had repeatedly been unresponsive to Marian’s requests. I suggested that he was referring to Ed Greenwood, and I’d be happy to tell him exactly what happened. He said not just Ed Greenwood but “other things” but would not say what they were. He said he would not stand for such things, and I said but they need to be true.
  • Derek repeatedly said that the two additional hotel rooms we were allocated in 2023 were no longer going to Guests. I told him this was not true, they were going to Guests, and explained (again over Marian’s demands that I not speak) why the decision was made to give them to committee Guests to ensure representation and inclusion in the ways communicated to us by the BIPOC communities rather than featuring four Guests as “Special”
  • Derek said it was clear our organizations were not “meshing” and the purpose of the meeting was to tell us that. This again, was the first time he had ever reached out to us, and his facts were broadly and specifically inaccurate.
  • Derek mentioned that we are not going to “sue each other” and so his direction must be followed, or he implied the Symposium could be cut and/or taken over by Gen Con proper.
  • Derek implied that my intent with the Guest list was to invite people I “wanted autographs” from, and suggested that we could consider someone who might be a first time author, but has valuable things to say. I said our program was designed the way that he was asking for, and if he had questions for me, I could answer them. He again said he did not have questions, he wanted us to hear that what we had done was bad and inappropriate.
  • Other false statements and inappropriate judgments were made toward me and the committee as a whole (including a lack of understanding of our volunteer role and financial and emotional investment), but typing this has already been triggering enough and I think it documents the essence of the meeting.

From Emily:

  • I repeatedly said that process issues for 2025 would best be handled in a non-emergency context.
  • I repeatedly asked if he had specific questions, and stated I had not been asked any questions.
  • I repeatedly said that delaying the announcement would have a negative impact to Gen Con and I would be happy to explain why.
  • I disclosed that I was brought onto the committee in the first place because I am fully mentally disabled and started to say why that was relevant. Derek cut me off and continued talking.
  • I insisted on saying the names of the two Special Guests, despite multiple attempts to prevent me from even saying their names. He said we agree they do not have “broad appeal” – I said no, they do have broad appeal.
  • Everything I said had to be in the form of an interruption because it was clearly Derek’s intent to talk until he had to go. He used this to say that he was “seeing” what Marian had been telling him. I said that I had not talked to Marian in a long time, and said the information he had been given should be true before making statements against me or our committee. He continued that we had not been responsive to her needs. I asked if this was about Ed Greenwood, and repeated that the information should be true, and I would be happy to answer any questions, but he had not asked me any questions.
  • I felt forced to choose between staying silent and causing our announcement to be indefinitely delayed without any stated cause, or to be set up as “unprofessional” – this was ableist, sexist, harmful, and wrong.
  • At the hour, Marian said Derek had to leave right then, and tried to cut off any further exchange. Derek stayed on for another 7-10 minutes.

—

Again, the goal was to delay the announcement of Guests until we disinvited Mikki or the committee disinvited me for refusing to do that. Derek said he didn’t know who Mikki or Linda were, he would not look them up, and he and didn’t care. (And he refused to let me tell him, then didn’t read our report he asked for.) Further delays would have put an inappropriate burden and risk on writers. If I had not spoken up in this meeting, the announcement would have been delayed. If I had been removed, much of the committee would have left. All the progress this community had been making would be very much endangered.

My standing up to Derek is the reason the event happened. But Derek clearly decided, by the feedback given, he would have my blood for it.

During that meeting, Derek had asked for extensive information immediately in order for us to make our announcement, and again, I have explained the impacts that would have had. Several members of our team, and even volunteers from outside of it, worked all day and stayed up all night answering his direct requests for information – I was concerned about the level of information he was out of the blue demanding, but the team said, no, let’s work with him, let’s operate in good faith.

The document we sent addressed all Derek’s questions and accusations. He refused to read it. Any of it. Still hasn’t, to my knowledge.

After this, as a legally fully mentally disabled person with PTSD, I was physically distressed for days. My arms and eyes kept twitching and I was waking up screaming. I talked to Chris, and said – I can’t do this again. Can we ask Gen Con to accommodate my disability? I’m happy to work with them, but I can’t handle being personally attacked like that physically. (Also, Chris has asked me not to speak to the health effects he was having.)

So Chris sent an email to Derek asking for a disability accommodation. He said that I was fully legally disabled with PTSD, and to please not give me personal feedback like “What you did was bad” as opposed to needs from Gen Con. Marian responded to this by saying if I have a disability I could go to the Kiosk at the event next to Will Call.

In the follow-up to this, Chris had three lengthy conversations (8 hours total) with Derek and then Marian. Derek used techniques familiar to DARVO, such as repeating “Chris…Chris… I am being calm here.” and accusing Chris of refusing to explain things that he’d just explained. Chris somehow managed to stay collected during these conversations. (I think like 3-4 total times in the three calls I heard him sort of breathe out, “Ok but that’s not true” / “I’ll explain that if you’ll let me”.) He also repeated over and over that oversight was not an issue, it was that we were very late in the process and writers were being hurt by these delays. The end result was Marian asking straight-out for me to be silenced or removed. When Chris said he would not do that, Marian said that she … just didn’t know, then, what would happen.

By this point, writers were really feeling the impacts of the delays against our long-posted schedule. People were spending travel money, making plans, and we were getting an increasing vibe that the intent was to cancel the event entirely. A lot of writers were telling me they couldn’t afford refundable tickets, or their work schedule requests were due – could I please confirm this was happening.

Derek requested more information at that point, after already telling us he didn’t read anything we would send him. He asked for a list of Featured Speakers and their compensation and qualifications. We said we would provide a budgeted list and also that the website already had the authors and their bios.

He said, no, he wanted a custom paragraph for each person. It was clear to the committee at this point that he was going to slow-roll us until we broke. In that context, Chris sent this co-signed email:

—

Derek,

After giving our last meeting some thought, I decided to consult with the committee before sending you the full list of invited speaker qualifications and compensation (among the other items, most of which I have already provided). I have coordinated this with the committee without disagreement.

It has become clear that Gen Con is demanding a fundamental change to the underlying relationship with the Writers’ Symposium team, 7 months into our planning and execution for 2024—a relationship that for the past many years has worked well. Any relationship where we are being micromanaged and belittled is not going to work for us. We are busy professionals with exceptional qualifications putting our personal time and resources into this event with only partial reimbursement of our costs, and no payment for our labor.

This will not be turned into any statement that we are unwilling to report to you or work with you. In response to the contentious meeting on 30 January 2024, our team worked overnight putting together the information you requested, providing it within 24 hours of the meeting. Yesterday you told me you haven’t read it, and you are again asking our team to provide many of the same answers that have already been provided. We have operated in good faith, and we cannot continue to repeat the same information with the same accusations.

Please see for reference on information provided:

2023 Final Report, sent 04 September 2023, 28 Pages
Response to Derek Guder requests, 31 January 2024, 7 Pages
We would like the 2024 GCWS to proceed. It is good for writers, good for the community, good for Gen Con, good for Indianapolis, and it is an event that we have all seen directly change lives year after year. However, this sudden and drastic change to our relationship that you are expecting has made this no longer possible. As such, I am no longer willing to sign the contract in any form, and our committee is not willing to continue operating without one.

If Gen Con would like to reconsider its decision on our relationship for 2024, I am willing to postpone making any announcement regarding our “inability to reach an agreement” on our contract. For this to be salvaged, Gen Con would need to agree to issue us a contract with terms similar to 2023 as previously communicated, and with the Symposium’s full ability to expend the resources provided to us as we best see fit, within the same reasonable guidelines that we have operated under for many years.

Unfortunately, we are at a critical point in our schedule with authors making travel plans, purchasing badges (required for them to seek lottery housing), etc. I will need any offer from GenCon to be made by Close of Business (COB) tomorrow, 16 February 2024. No response will be considered as a rejection of this offer.

As we’ve repeatedly stated, we are willing to discuss a changed relationship for 2025 in September, but plans for 2024 cannot be changed at this late point, after people have spent hundreds of hours donating their labor, after travel plans have been made, after Featured Speakers have bought badges to prepare for the housing lottery, after announcements have been made.

I understand that this might result in a very public and open response by the invited authors, volunteers, and fans of the Symposium. The reputation of the Symposium leadership team is well-known and respected, as are our recent efforts toward inclusion, and this sudden change of plans will have significant impact to many.

Please let me know.

Chris Bell

Co-Signed:
Alex Bevier
Ava Kelly
Emily D.E. Bell
Seth Lindberg
Toiya Kristen Finley

—

His response was:

Chris,

It is very unfortunate that we have reached this point.

Gen Con has not attempted to fundamentally change the structure of the Writers’ Symposium nor micromanage its operation. We are not objecting to the selected guests or who they are. In fact, it was the confusion about our expectation that there would be four special guests this year and not only two that made it clear the root issues were communication and coordination.

The continued escalation of this situation has been reviewed internally (I have copied my boss on this reply) and Gen Con remains committed to finding a way to host the Writers’ Symposium in 2024 – it is valuable to us, our attendees, and attending authors. However, just over 24 hours is not a suitable timeline to make such a significant decision. We would like to continue negotiations in the hope we can still reach a compromise that satisfies both parties.

Knowing you are going on vacation now, is there someone we can work with in your stead to attempt to resolve this?

—

Again, and this is important – We did not refuse oversight. We offered it over and over and over. Yet Peter Adkison’s anonymous proxy keeps highlighting “full ability to expend the resources provided to us as we best see fit” as evidence that we refused oversight. I’ve explained here why that’s not true. Read the rest of the email and view it in context. Anyone reading only that sentence and saying “see” is clearly acting with bias, including perhaps a desire to stay in Derek’s and Peter’s inner circle. We were being slow-rolled (DoS?) because of a stated issue with Mikki Kendall. These delays were hurting writers. They did hurt writers.

So, after this, the contract was signed. Yet – because of these delays, I worked programming on my first vacation in 9+ years. I worked on spreadsheets, uncomfortably, bumping down the highway. I had to put off working with a distressed young author, who ended up DYING during this time.

I put my heart and soul into this program. It’s a good program.

We did tell Gen Con that we were investing significant personal resources for the long-term plan, and please to let us know if there was intent for us not to continue.

—

As we moved forward:

  • No complaints were provided, despite Gen Con’s agreement they would raise any issues to Chris.
  • Gen Con refused to promote a single GCWS event, including from our Special Guests, or the Anthology.
  • Despite all of this, all statistics regarding GCWS were improved.

It was also told to me that Gen Con does not intend to disinvite the entire committee – this was a lie and they only refuse to work with “The Bells” – which again, is clearly me, since Chris refused to shut me up.

Bottom line is, a mentally disabled person who was brought into GCWS in the first place to make the event welcoming to more writers including disabled people, was abused and mocked regarding her disability, and is now being personally targeted because I stood in the way of a last-minute effort by one person who had no knowledge of our inclusion plan (and still doesn’t, to my knowledge, he’s refused to this day to let me speak to it) overruling a committee-wide decision not to disinvite Mikki Kendall, a NYT best-selling expert on the #1 issue in gamewriting who is also a graphic novelist, and brilliant, community-minded person, in the presence of known dogwhistles.

I will not defend my integrity, and I hope that people will stand with us. But if not, the work continues.

The final response (sent by proxy who wishes to remain anonymous) is:

“Derek has directly expressed to me that GenCon [sic] is open to working with the rest of this last year’s leadership committee, excepting Chris and Emily Bell, whom they specifically will not work with again. Even those who signed what I call the Ultimatum email, which I understand caused a lot of consternation.”

I am asking Gen Con and/or the 2025 GCWS Committee for a specific reason why they will not work with “Chris and Emily Bell” and I think I deserve that answer. Hopefully I’ll get at least that much respect from the community.

And one final thought: you really don’t have to have the argument about me in any way. Derek Guder is on the record saying that neither Linda D. Addison nor Mikki Kendall have draw or broad appeal at the same time he said he did not know them and refused to find out. He is also using this “four not two” Guests thing like it’s a gotcha, but he wouldn’t allow anyone on the committee to explain verbally why we did that, why it was coordinated with Marian in August and January, or why it did not violate their intent in any way, or why changing it at that point would be directly harmful – and he refused to read anything submitted in writing. Please evaluate those actions on their own.

Emily.

Cool people you should follow:

Some friends to support:

Three Weeks in 2024: Reflections

I’m back at home, and after three+ weeks of experiencing, absorbing, and processing, I want to share some of that with you. The main reason is that I think a lot about our craft, our industry, and our communities. We’re often hesitant to talk about our work, yet even more so to talk about our work together. I think these conversations are essential to change. So here’s my little contribution to that – both the discussions and the encouragement to have them.

What Did I Do?

For context to the rest: Ava Kelly came to Ferndale Michigan from Bergen Norway on 25 July. We did a book event with Matthew Spencer in Detroit Michigan, then saw some of the city, then took a short trip to Windsor Ontario. Next we went to Indianapolis Indiana for Gen Con Writers’ Symposium (GCWS), after which Chris and I went to Glasgow Scotland for Worldcon, and then down to London England for a live D&D event, and now, 20 August, we are home. Phew!

In this time, I interacted in some fashion with many people in person including: Alex Pierce, Amal El-Mohtar, Ava Kelly, Brad Beaulieu, Brandon Crilly, Brandon O’Brien, the By the Dice Roll team, Carlos Hernandez, Cat Rambo, Celia Neri, Cheryl Morgan, Chris McCartney, Claire Cooney, Clara Ward, Dedren Snead, Ed Greenwood, Erin Evans, Greg Wilson, Karen Menzel, Kat Kourbeti, Kwame Mbalia, Jen Crispin, Jordan Kurella, LaShawn Wanak, Linda Addison, Marie Bilodeau, Maurice Broaddus, Matt Spencer, Mikki Kendall, Mikko Rauhala, Minerva Cerridwen, Muna Khogali, Neil Clarke, James Farner, Jason Ray Carney, Jesse Holland, P.L. Stuart, Paul Weimer, Rhonda (R.S.A.) Garcia, Richard Lee Byers, Seth Lindberg, Stephen Embleton, Tanya DePass, Tari Toons, Toiya Kristen Finley, Tony Eichenlaub, Victor Raymond, Wole Talabi, Wolf (Joyce) Chng, plus insightful friends like Aaron, Christofer, Core, Didi, Josh, and Rita and Joe – plus co-panelists, fan societies, volunteers, booksellers, readers, event attendees – I see you all.

Is this to name drop? No, not even. Memories, friendships, and interactions are dear and personal to me, never points. But. I do want to make clear that these reflections are not simply one writer/editor with words to say, but a thoughtful person who cares deeply about the craft spending weeks around some seriously talented and insightful people absorbing, asking, and observing (and sometimes getting the advice that doesn’t go out in public or in writing, including here) to figure out in what ways I should and should not go.

Community

So over these last few years, I’ve heard a lot of: “Are you sure you want to be so open on main? Is that good for your image? Good for the image of your press? Its authors?” Same thing I heard with my writing for so long: If you’re the real you, people won’t like you. If you’re the real you, people will leave you.

No. Done with it. Leave, then.

My people stay.

Our people stay. We stand up for each other. We steady each other. We lift each other.

Sure, I’m going to keep working on how I present myself. But openness? That’s part of the deal. First, I am community. Embracing this has saved me. Also, I don’t have enough years left in my life to untangle appropriate cautions from the stigmas, silences, and shames of the system in private, so I’ll keep untangling them in public.

Living on a Planet

I do need to shout-out to the people who shared all these little treats with me over the past weeks. Just in case you don’t know what a little squirrel I am, no they are absolutely not done. Even the chocolates from Chris’ birthday celebration were just finished today. So, I have hidden in my metaphorical tree treats gifted directly from Canada, Romania, Trinidad, Norway, Belgium, England, Scotland, Germany, and a huge fruit and nut platter that just (literally, as I was typing this) showed up from the United States, and just know what a happy little squirrel I am.

But seriously, living on a planet is cool. If you haven’t thought about that lately, I encourage you to. Like, what a story to end up in. People of all different views and customs and meanings for “lemonade” spinning around a cloudy little planet together, and offering comfort when things are hard.

There was one thing I did notice at Worldcon that I hadn’t seen in my localish travels, which was Americans prominently discussing how intolerable America is. I’m used to the “Canada is so much better” version (a romanticism the Canadians I know find dangerous) but it jarred me more in this context. I get it. Rejecting exceptionalism, recognizing the harm of conservatism, colonialism, capitalism. But then – do that. Popping out on how bad America is feels like another form of centering, especially from a wealthy country, especially in an industry where being in America comes with quite a bit of privilege, and especially as the global fight against fascism continues. Be for art. Be for health care and basic income. Be for human rights. But I think we’re better off in this together.

Anyway, I’m back in my office, remembering that my little space here is also on this very cool planet, and loving the rush and feelings of it. I do owe many people many things, and I know that. I feel a bit like a broken in-ground sprinkler right now, sending out so many “I know I need to do this” / “When do you actually need this” notes – but please know, I’m doing my best and I’ll get there.

I Feel the Wind

At first, some things felt the same. Sitting alone. Being the one person at a table somehow not invited to the next thing. People not caring.

But then I felt little changes. People wanted hugs. People tried to find me because they suspected I was off crying. People smiled because I was there. People reached out. Held me. Said – I understand. People who hadn’t yet met me had really stunning compliments. There was a line waiting to get into my GCWS Micro Fiction Party. The Atthis Arts books were among the first to disappear from the Worldcon freebie area. Industry drama talked about us for a couple full days (sure, the drama piece, not the work, but still). A Worldcon Special Guest called out my name, knew who I was, offering to hang. And I’m returning home with two non-fiction commissions from highly reputable venues.

And I feel … shored up. Stable. Still in the wind, but with techniques to hold on, to smile into its face.

Thoughts on Surety

I got a lot of advice this trip. Some asked for, a lot not, but all welcome – and all very insightful and valuable, and well… Consistent. Some of it, on issues of publishing and conventions, gives me new angles to take, or helps me move forward with confidence – knowing I can hold my ground because enough people who are global experts on these topics (and/or v affected by them irl) are reassuring me.

I have “mused on the internet” about many things, but not very often on something I’ve thought about more and more this year – why, lately, have people offered me forgiveness when I don’t offer them forgiveness? Of course I forgive. I’ve forgiven more than my share, I think. But I love and forgive as my heart and soul tell me; it’s not a thing I need to be asked for? I’ll leave all the layers of that as an ellipsis here, except to say that several people said the same thing to me these weeks. Almost never in response, but like, pulling me aside – I need to tell you something. Know who you are / Know what you mean / You are killing yourself every day for people / People need to cut you slack / People need to give you grace …

“You apologize all the time.”

I admit when I’m wrong, and when I’ve hurt someone, I will surely apologize. But the rest of this has to stop. Thank you, every person who told me some version of this. I’ve heard you.

I left with determination.

I returned with surety.

I will take that surety – along with, always, joy and grace – to the next section of this.

What We Talk About

I am asking people to think more about what we discuss. Sure, jokes can be good. Viral jokes can be good. Nonsense can be good. Snark can be good. Doge lived. Doge died. We remember.

But overall – where are your efforts going? What are you amplifying? To what are you responding? When you talk about a person, a place, an organization – what is your focus? Are you choosing that focus, or are you flowing with the discourse? If you are not choosing it, who is? No, not the person you saw discussing it. Where did it originate? What cultural elements is it promoting?

Are we being vigilant against generative manipulation in all its forms? It’s not just our words on page. It’s our words online. Our actions. Our focus.

Maybe you’re too tired to come up with something today. I get that. Then – What will you amplify?

I think we’re quite too easy to influence and a full-up community shake and blink would do a lot. My friend’s mother used to wake us up in the morning singing “Rawhide”. Maybe not quite that energy, but whatever works.

A few examples, for now:

Mind your Pokes. If you have enough energy to poke at SFWA over the grant, then you have enough energy to (additionally or instead):

  • Support writers
  • Support small presses
  • Support literary coverage like Chytomo

Beep the Couch. I used this example a few times at Gen Con, and with the uncomfortable faces I got, I’m going to say it again until people are listening. Again, jokes and release are necessary. But where is the JDV beeped the couch energy for supporting the work? From now on, every time someone tells me some version of I’m asking too much, #SupportBoldIndies is too much, the community is too tired, the forces of power are too strong, we can’t do it…

Hi, we can do it. Beeping the couch was a full-up thing. The energy. The creativity. The interaction. The joy. Find things to support and get down into those cushions.

Watch the Watchers. I’d like to ask you to watch something. The voices discussing our industry, our genre. Do they cover issues equally? What causes one issue to be covered but not another? Is it tied to their own potential gain? Which bridges might be needed? Consider focusing your support accordingly.

I’ve been saying this a while, but the SFWA example makes it even easier to explain without getting into some touchy things. Meaning, that’s my point. People are comfortable going at SFWA, as they have been with other groups that they feel can’t / won’t come at them, or big corporations that they don’t think will see them.

But who covered the disinvitation of Atthis Arts from Origins Game Fair? (Can you name anyone?) Who is covering Publisher’s Marketplace selective gatekeeping of small presses? Who is asking tough questions of … well, see that’s it. There are things that I, still in the middle of, am not the right person to air. But other people know.

Why is our shredding of a check that would have covered 15% of the book’s expenses even after loads of donated time and material the most coverage Atthis Arts has had?

We are not powerless.

Deflating Capitalism

I’ve finally realized what I’ve been trying to say for a while:

I believe we must stop framing things in gold.

Of course, money / currency / resource is essential in this system. Cash money love over exposure, right? The bills don’t care. So I’m not saying don’t discuss it – that discussion remains vital. I’m saying that framing everything with money is causing a lot of harm. I don’t have the energy to go through all the iterations this has gone through in my mind (and examples!), but let me offer a few notes for your consideration.

Yes, I’ve seen the talk of “the publisher who shredded the check” this past week. On the fora, the chat, the blog. Yes, that was my little family here. But even as I’ve tried to steer the understanding toward sharing Ukrainian stories, even when the focus shifts to the war zone, the focus is the check. To the writers, the editors in Ukraine, it was clear to me the sharing the stories – the empathy, the connection, their hearts and souls, and as they said, what kept them going as bombs landed outside their windows – was more important than money. It wasn’t as much that SFWA didn’t at least note they weren’t paying authors in the war zone, it was that they weren’t helping share their stories (and also paying them). I am really starting to see how essential that shift in framing is.

Consider two headlines:

  • Check Issued to Charity Antho; Then SFWA Told Antho to Destroy Check
  • Ukrainian Authors told their Stories would be Translated; Then SFWA Rescinded the Grant

Only one is real. Both are true.

Along those lines. We speak so often in tax status, in business terms, in profits. Please, I urge you to prioritize impact. Is it not so much whether an organization is legally “not for profit” or “for profit” but is it “driven by profit” or “driven by impact”? That really needs to be the measure, especially given that in the current system, NFPs are less independent.

We do have to talk about resources. Urgently. But I think, when it’s the framing, we lose.

Let’s stop doing the capitalism’s work for it. My rough solution, as I continue to consider this: Frame the goals. Frame the impact. Then clarify how to support them.

Most urgently: Speak plainly.

What’s Next?

Now. We move forward. With love, joy, and a shank if we need it.

I’m out of energy for the moment to go through all of what’s ahead, but here are the upcoming releases. Don’t worry; I’ll power up soon and we’ll celebrate these and more through the atmosphere.

  • October: Storm Tree by E.D.E. Bell (third Alyssia novel)
  • November: Songs for the Shadows by Cheryl S. Ntumy (a Sauútiverse story)
  • November: The Factory by Ihor Mysiak, translated by Hanna Leliv and Zhenia Dubrova
  • March: Wolf’s Path by Joyce Chng
  • April: Wishing Well, Wishing Well by Jubilee Cho
  • October: Citadel by Brandon Crilly (second Aspects of Aelda novel)
  • (Audiobooks… much more ahead)

I hope to have many more years with Atthis Arts. With our community. With stories to share.

Thank you, thank you, for being here, for being part of all these overlapping communities. Together is how we do this.

Coping

There are things I want and do not have. I cope by closing my eyes and thinking of those who love me. I let gratitude fill me.

Gratitude

Thanks to each of you who have touched me, in life, or these past few weeks.

We often speak of love, and soul, as things they cannot take from us.

But gratitude – it also cannot be taken.

My very best to you all. With Love – Emily.

Postscript: AMA

None of us have the answers. But our communities are thoughtful and strong.

As for me, ask away. What do I think of something? What resources do I know? Hard mode. Go for it. Here, or on Bluesky. I welcome the discussion.

A Stone of Luck

Written collaboratively at Gen Con 2024 in 40 minutes by Aubrey Dee Sweeney, Mary Emma Heaps, I like birds, Orchid Lily, Amanda Lynne, Kathy L. Brown, Jim Knipp, Zak Federer, and RJ McGuire. Edited by E.D.E. Bell.

Cicada sat on the old castle wall, staring down at the moat below. His parents, who had left the world of science to open a traveler’s pub in this old, abandoned castle, had told him he could never go in the moat, not even listening when he’d tried to tell them of his stone.

They had bought him more paints, delicate brushes, to decorate others rocks. He wanted his rock.

“You must not go in the moat,” they’d repeated.

But they had never told him why.

Aunt Plural, she had told him. It sounded unreal, like a story told to little children. Cicada was eight now, too old for magical tales. Yet Aunt Plural had always been someone he could trust. So. He wondered.

“They don’t want you disturbing the sea folk,” she’d said. “Tiny, tiny, merfolk, that crawl on the skin. Bad luck to disturb them.”

But Aunt Plural didn’t understand. The last time they’d crossed the moat after a trip to the village, Cicada had been so entranced by the waves, wondering if there really was a King’s treasure beneath them, that his grip on his lucky stone – the one he’d painted with a happy, smiling, seal, had slipped into the water with a soft plunk, immediately lost into the murky green.

His lucky stone was his luck. He only wanted it back.

It began to rain. Perhaps it was a sign. The adults were inside, the tavern busy, they hadn’t seen him slip out. If he waited too long, they would notice. The rain somehow, emboldened him.

He walked to the edge, wondering if somewhere in the moat, tiny, tiny hands played with his painted stone. Did they play? Did they appreciate it? Or did it sink into the muck at the bottom, soon to disappear.

Cicada knew about children’s stories. In fact, now he was wondering if they were stories at all, if Aunt Plural believed in them. Yet in the stories, one always offered trade. Treasure for treasure.

He reached into his pocket. No lucky stone. He did have a piece of candy that Aunt Plural had given him. Perhaps it would do.

It was very good candy.

Feeling a bit silly, not entirely convinced he wasn’t following a child’s tale but wanting to believe, he called out toward the moat. “Hello. I’d like to trade for my lucky rock. I have here a piece of very good candy that I can offer you.”

He thought that was how you did it.

Nothing happened. A chill from the rain set on his skin. Just as hope began to leave him, he saw a ripple in the water. The same type of ripple that had caught his eye when he’d dropped the stone.

“Don’t be silly,” a tiny voice said. “That’ll dissolve in the water! But if your rock is precious we can help you find it. Perhaps another rock to trade? A nice round one, rolled by the sands, to play with.”

“We would like the candy,” another voice said, it seemed in disagreement. “If there’s a way to offer it.” He knew the tone of that voice. A voice that loved candy, loved it, like he did. Perhaps, like him, that merperson was not supposed to cross the boundary of air and water, not even to eat the candy.

“I can do both!” he said, feeling sure that he would try in his excitement. He searched, finding a smooth tumbled, rock. And in a moment of inspiration he pulled his paints, and painted the candy on the rock as well, waving it to dry.

He set them both – the rock-shaped candy and the candy-painted rock, just again the edge of the moat. He stepped back. “I will not come closer,” he called. “Here, you can eat the candy now, still at the edge, and also have the rock to enjoy how pretty it is, and think of the memory forever!” He smiled, feeling very proud of this solution.

Surely with a trade like this, the tiny merfolk would return his lucky rock.

Something tickled at his ankles! What was it?

A movement, on his legs, then against his side. Before he could understand, a tiny being had crawled to his face, and pressed a tiny mouth against his. Instantly, a bubble formed. A bubble of breathing! Like in the stories!

And the candy, surrounded by a trio of merfolk, was nearly eaten, and the painted rock being carried into the moat.

“Come in,” they called. “It’s safe to breathe!”

As he lowered himself into the murky water, he heard clearly, “Welcome to our forest.”

A kelp forest! Huge waving stalks of seaweed, tiny merfolk sleeping in its nooks, or climbing between. How could he ever find his lucky rock in all of this?

“This way,” the one who’d made the bubble said. He followed, his body surprisingly light and easy to move in the direction he was pointed. They wound around the bend.

What he saw, was…the treasure. The treasure of the King. A pile of coins of all values, from copper to tin. But around it, wilted kelp, and a few discarded trinkets, that here felt like trash untended.

“The landfolk toss them through the well,” his new friend lamented. “But the copper poisons the life. The fingerprints bring disease. Both create rot. It seeps from here, and what is left livable of our only home grows crowded and more crowded. And we fear for where it may end.”

“Or not end,” a sullen voice called from behind.

The wishing well, he realized. Travelers tossed coins and trinkets, in ratio to their means, for the luck of the moat. The luck, he realized, then, they must believe – of the seafolk.

If he took the treasure, it would help the seafolk. And he would be rich, like the Kings of old! And so, he began stuffing his pockets, every last one, every mended tear, with all the coins he could find. He grew heavy, no longer able to move. His breathing grew difficult, and the bubble around his lips started to shrink.

“We can’t lift you,” they called. He wanted to remove the coins from his pockets, but he was growing dizzy.

This, maybe this, was why his parents warned him away from the moat.

A soft, sleek body pressed against his, and what he knew to be a selkie carried him to land, setting him so, so gently onto the boards of the walk.

“You saved me,” Cicada gasped out, the bubble now entirely gone. “What could I possibly trade for this?”

“All I want,” the selkie said, “is for the landfolk who returned to this castle, where we’d finally been living in peace, to respect our home alongside theirs.” Then, she chuckled. “And perhaps, I’d love a cooked meal for once! I remember the days where every meal did not have to match the temperature of the water. And with the spices of land.” The selkie licked her lips. “But I cannot ask. We will not risk contact. And you, you will keep this secret?” The selkie looked at him with a recognizable face of when a teacher said a thing like it was a thing of fact, but then, repeated to make sure the class understood. Not really a question, but the answer as important.

“Of course, of course.” He sprang to stand. “I will return!”

He realized he should thank the selkie, but he was already running, his feet slipping on the wet ground. He knew the person he needed to find, and he ran toward the castle, barreling forward until he saw his Aunt, pulling on her boots. As if she’d already known he was looking for her.

“Cicada!” She sighed in relief. “I saw you were gone, and I worried that what I’d said… That your parents were right. That you were too…”

“What do I do?” he said, waving his hands and starting right in on the story until it was done.

She tapped her chin. “Making a friend of a selkie is a special thing indeed. You will return to her, and make her this offer. If you agree,” she added, sounding thoughtful. “With her help, we will bring up all the coins. We will keep them secret. With some, we will build a new well, on land, and with the others, we will buy food from the pub, wonderful cooked dishes that the selkie would love. The new wishing well will not travel to the moat, it will land in a bucket we can use to bring the selkie more cooked food, and also to preserve the moat. To help keep it clean. To add nice baubles inside, for shelter and play.

“What do you think?” she asked.

#

“How long did it take to get back your rock?” his nibling asked, bouncing with excitement.

Cicada laughed. “I think they found it right away. But they waited, and gave it to me as a gift, when the last of the metals had been removed.” He turned the painted rock in his hands, the little seal smiling back at him. He had painted many rocks since then, but this, this one was his luck.

“I’m as old as you were, then, Uncle Cicada,” they said. “Do you think I could meet the seafolk? I would help keep the moat clean! And help bring the cooked food, with all the best spices! Could I?”

Cicada smiled.

###

A Strange Hill to Die On

Festival marks the peak of summer. And no one asks which festival, because if another were meant, it would be called by name.

Zeta looked forward to Festival every year. The sounds and smells and electricity of connection, the anticipation of future joy, fueled her forward on the hardest of days, like a light kept in her pocket, with charge for the year. But especially this year, ever since she had learned that Rin Talen would be there, speaking, performing. As a volunteer for the committee, she might even meet them. They could sign her spellbook, the old spellbook, she thought with a grin.

And, Zeta thought further, such a celebratory year might be a chance to finally ease the one weight Festival always held. For many, but also for her. The quiet weight.

She resolved to try.

The fairies of Hela Hill had not largely attended Festival in some years. Without them, the songs were thinner. The air less vibrant. The joy less free. When Zeta had raised the question to the committee, they’d thrown up their hands. “They are always welcome,” The Deputy had said. “We also wish they would go.”

So Zeta had asked a trusted friend over a cup of glitter tea. The friend’s response had chilled Zeta to her bones. Such small things, yet such deep misunderstanding. No, mistrust. And the friend had offered other names, fairies whose words did not feel valued, and so, they no longer spoke them.

They focused efforts elsewhere.

The committee, Zeta learned, had misspoken. The fairies of Hela Hill were not welcome. They were invited. And, Zeta learned, these were not the same.

Zeta changed her plan.

“Zeta,” The Mayor said, “we need to talk about the lights.” She casually waved the submitted plan, her report attached behind it, still in its clips.

“Yes,” Zeta answered, excitedly. “I’ve got the schematics all worked out, and I’ve submitted the plan for review. Well, you have it right there. I’ve already talked to the magicians, and they can—”

The Mayor tapped the table. “You changed the colors.”

“Oh,” Zeta smiled. “The notes are on page three. I’ve asked people in town from Hela Hill what might make them feel welcome at festival, and while the other items are in the report, one is the shade of violet used. Fairies are sensitive to violet and all the shades beyond, and so if we just change that one to mauve, then—”

The Mayor chuckled. “We’re not changing the rainbow.”

“That’s absurd,” she heard another voice say.

Taken aback, Zeta found her own responses slipping. “I’m not…changing the rainbow. I’m adjusting the lights for Festival, to make the celebration more welcoming to all. And if you look in the report, there are other—”

“This?” The Mayor waved the stack of sheets. “We don’t have time for it. But changing the rainbow? The heart of Festival? How you could think to do this without even asking…” The Mayor shook her head.

The rainbow was the heart of Festival. It represented the gathering of all in celebration of darkness and light, in the strength of shared joy. Somewhere, she had a point to make. A way to express the difference. But there was no space to think, and around her, people chattered, louder and now, some with laughter. Zeta spoke louder to be heard. “I’ve never had to ask before. And I submitted it for review, and—”

“Hello?” The Mayor called out. “Is Roy G. Bim in attendance?”

The Deputy laughed.

“It’s not a joke,” Zeta said, now feeling angry. “We’re using fairy songs, fairy wisps, it’s part of how we got Rin Talen to attend. The least we can do is adjust the lights to help more fairies feel welcome.”

The Mayor was no longer laughing. “It should be apparent,” she said, “that we are not changing the rainbow.” She sighed. “I’m delaying the casting of the lights until we can submit a reasonable plan.”

“No,” Zeta said, her face flushing. “We can’t delay. The spells take weeks to calibrate, and—”

“You will stop interrupting,” The Deputy said, voice firm. “Now, on to pastries.”

The laughter had stopped, and the air felt heavy. Zeta glanced around for a nod of support, but the others stared down at their papers, some reading, some making notes.

The next day, she walked to Hela Hill.

#

Zeta raised her hand.

“Yes, Zeta?” The Deputy’s face wrinkled in anticipatory defense.

“I’d like to raise the issue of the lights.”

“We’ve talked about the lights,” The Mayor snapped. “We’re past it, and we are moving on.”

She shook her head, grasping for calmish words. “We’re not past it; the casts are still unordered, and unless you wish to remove me, I am still—”

“Do you wish to be removed?” The Deputy asked, eyes glinting.

“No. I wish to be respected.” Zeta stood from her chair, willing her legs to steady. “The modification of the violet lights to mauve is something that several fairies have communicated as an issue in their attendance.”

“You are not a fairy, nor do you speak for them. We are not going to lose precious meeting time discussing the opportunity to showcase Rin Talen because of your continued interruptions. Now, that’s enough.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, louder. “It’s not enough. I’ve not been given any opportunity to—”

“You do it again, you’ll force us to replace you.”

Flustered now, she peered around for support, but faces were turned away. “What have I done wrong, but put forward a thoughtful plan that you will not discuss? That you refuse to—”

The air snapped around her. A spell, cast by someone at the table. Her voice was blocked from leaving the bubble around her as long as she stayed in this place. Her eyes twitching and face burning, she left the room and walked out into the cool evening air to let the pressure subside, hoping perhaps, that someone might join her.

Zeta sat outside on the bench. Alone.

#

Cherry rapped at Zeta’s door.

Zeta smiled. She was glad to see her friend.

“I’m sorry about what happened at the meeting,” Cherry said, over a freshly offered cup of tea. “They were looking for someone to wrap up the lights for the committee, and I figured at least I could honor the work you’ve done. Could you give me your spell schematics?”

Zeta’s fingers turned cold against the warm cup. “I…need to think about that.” The Mayor had threatened to remove her, but there’d been no discussion. She’d thought, perhaps, Cherry was here to help.

“Sorry?” Cherry scrunched her face. “I told them you were on the right side of this, that you cared about Festival, even if you get wrapped in minutiae at times. But you understand the burden more than anyone. If we can’t use the updated schematics, we’ll have to start over from last year’s, retune the entire solar resonance. Like you said, that takes weeks.”

It took Zeta weeks; the others did not do it as well. She kept that piece to herself. “You don’t have last year’s,” Zeta said instead, looking down at her cup. “I have those also.”

The silence was long and unbroken, until Zeta looked up. Cherry was staring at her, her expression blank. Meeting Zeta’s eyes, Cherry’s softened.

“I get it. A lot of us know how The Mayor is, but there are issues here of more importance. Don’t you see? It’s finally happening. We’re getting Rin Talen. You know what that means to our island. People will travel here, from all over, just to see them. It will be the grandest celebration in years.”

Her own voice felt low, unsure. “But, Cherry, what does it mean to have people from all over when we are not inclusive of our own?”

Cherry nearly sputtered. “The fairies love Rin Talen; surely they’ll come out just for that. Any issue will be solved.”

Zeta shook her head. “But what if they don’t? Or even—what if they do? What if they go, but feel unhappy? Shouldn’t we welcome people with what they’ve asked for, not only with things we think they’ll also like? That’s not welcome, that’s…erasure.”

“I can’t do this,” Cherry said with a sigh. “I came by to try and help, and if you’re going to keep repeating fashions and flutters, it’s just, well it’s uncomfortable.”

The word ticked at Zeta’s mind, but she couldn’t quite place why. “What is it,” she asked, a simple question but all that she could think to ask right now, “that makes you so uncomfortable?”

Cherry stood, disappointment in her eyes. “I just think this is a strange hill to die on.”

“Die on?” Now Zeta’s face scrunched in incredulity. “I think that’s a strange thing to say. This is living. It isn’t even about us, but it’s like…” She had so much more to say, but the words felt twisted into her own anxieties, her own doubts.

With a sigh, Cherry took her bag back up and headed for the door. “Clearly you need time to think.”

“I don’t,” Zeta said, staying seated to hide the wobble in her legs. “I don’t, actually. I want to be heard out by the full committee on the issue of the violet lights. If they don’t like the term ‘mauve’ that’s fine, but we need to discuss adjusting the hue and why it’s such a big deal before I support any transition.”

Placing her hand across her chest, Cherry shook her head. “Can’t, Zeta. You’re banned. They…said you wanted that. That you were making the big deal out of petty things. That you could not control yourself. And, frankly, I am seeing here what they meant.” Waiting for a reply from Zeta and not getting one, she turned and left.

#

The narrator resents the ending, because there are several, and all of them as true as any. In every version, Zeta won’t hand over her plans without a discussion; she feels sick for the stand and the others sick for it.

In some stories, she celebrates the night alone. She finds her friends, she finds new friends, and creates art and joy in other spaces.

In some stories, the next meeting grows heated. Another speaks.

In some, an ending by delays.

In some stories, Festival is celebrated at Hela Hill. In some stories, it always was.

In the most fantastical version, Rin Talen asks what occurred and demands a full review before they will participate, offering their own funds, if needed, to assist. Yet, even then, no one invites Zeta back, for her name, now, is trouble.

In a version of fire and flame, there is no such name, for those who would block are bricks to be tossed, those who would hush are whispers unheard, and those who would mirror are turned from our view. But that is another tale. That is a story of dragons.

Perhaps, then, a fictional ending. A triumphant one? A comfortable one?

No, the narrator resists.

The real ending is tomorrow. And the days beyond. The real ending is long. The real ending is hope.

As for Zeta? She didn’t want to be in words. She didn’t want to be a character. She didn’t want to be alone.

She wanted the rainbow to mean all.

She reminds the reader, it does.

#

Festival marks the peak of summer. And no one asks which festival, because if another were meant, it would be called by name.

A rainbow of lights hover and sway over the calm, cool night, as the sounds of music flow across the jasmine-scented breeze and flutes of bubbling juices offer to tickle the tongue while streams of water could wiggle the toes.

All the people of the island gather. Many mingle and talk, others lounge and watch. Dancers dance, and singers sing. The furry folk eat, prance, and cuddle in nooks. The gnomes bounce from ledge to ledge, on networks of platforms and sheltered views winding through the taller crowds. A group of fairies flap their wings in raucous laughter while others coast through the aisles and squares—talking, dancing, joining in a game of tales or a telling of dice. Elves chuckle and ogres grunt. Merfolk leap and swim through the sparkling channels and into the center pond, their fins shaking glitter into the wind.

These pulses of joy, these spectra of love, the choices of safety, adventure, or rest.

At Festival, everyone is home.

###

2023 Awards Eligibility – E.D.E. Bell

Hugo Award for Best Related Work

I am asking you to consider “The Embroidered Worlds Funding Campaign” by Valya Dudycz Lupescu and E.D.E. Bell for Best Related Work. This includes our work securing an international grant after the already received grant was rescinded, and our community and culture celebrating crowdfunding camapign at https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/atthisarts/embroidered-worlds/ featuring guest writers from around the world. Because of the grant requirements, the entire process from the start of crowdfunding through translation, editing, sensitivity reading, typesetting, and production, to full publication was done within eleven weeks starting 01 September 2023.

Novel

  • May 2023: Inkbloom by E.D.E. Bell, Quiet Fantasy, Bi+, Queer, Neurodivergent, Self-Published (via Atthis Arts) (SFWA Member Download, Recommend)

Short Stories

  • February 2023: “The Last Julia” by E.D.E. Bell from The Librarian Reshelved by Air and Nothingness Press, Quiet Fantasy, Queer (SFWA Member Download, Recommend)
  • November 2023: “Invisible Dee” by E.D.E. Bell from Mighty: An Anthology of Disabled Superheroes, edited by Emily Gillespie and Jennifer Lee Rossman by Renaissance Press, Fantasy, Queer, Neurodivergent, Disability

Audio Narration

  • October 2023: Night Ivy by E.D.E. Bell, narrated by E.D.E. Bell, Quiet Fantasy, Bi+, Queer, Neurodivergent, Self-Published (via Atthis Arts)
  • November 2023: Inkbloom by E.D.E. Bell, narrated by E.D.E. Bell, Quiet Fantasy, Bi+, Queer, Neurodivergent, Self-Published (via Atthis Arts)

Editorial, Long-Form

  • June 2023: Renegade by Gregory A. Wilson, Dark Fantasy (Atthis Arts) (SFWA Member Download)
  • October 2023: Pluralities by Avi Silver, Slipstream Space Adventure, Trans, Nonbinary (Atthis Arts) (SFWA Member Download)

Also see Atthis Arts eligibility list.

2021 Awards Eligibility – E.D.E. Bell

Hello! I have two stories eligible for 2021 awards. Thanks so much for giving them a look. : )

“Hetta, who is plain” by E.D.E. Bell – Short Story, ~4K words, quiet high fantasy


Just Bart by E.D.E. Bell – Episodic Serial, ~60K words, fantasy, humor, slipstream

  • Published by Atthis Arts (self-published by editor), April 2021
  • Eligible as: fantasy, quiet fantasy, humor, self-published, novel, serial, episodic fiction, vegan, queer, nonbinary storyline, bi+
  • Available for sale: https://www.atthisarts.com/product/just-bart
  • To request a review copy, print or digital: atthis@atthisarts.com

Gift-Buying Guide: Support Indie Fiction!

I thought I’d put together a list of ways you can support our small press, Atthis Arts, by buying our books for gifts. Remember: this doesn’t just apply for the end-of-year holidays, but also for birthdays, mothers/fathers/parents day, valentine’s day, teacher gifts – or anyone that deserves a special thank you! (That can include gifts for you, too. You do deserve it.)

Hard to shop for – or just loves reading!

Not sure what someone reads? We have three short story collections with all different types of stories! Each is very short, not much commitment. So if they don’t like one story, the next will be different. These are really fun and are just perfect for gifts! Stories from all over the world; they are so fun.

As Told By Things – 25 stories told from the perspective of inanimate objects. A quirky collection for sure.
https://www.atthisarts.com/dd-product/as-told-by-things/

Five Minutes at Hotel Stormcove – 59 stories taking place over the course of five minutes, past, present, or future, all at the same, legendary hotel.
https://www.atthisarts.com/dd-product/five-minutes-at-hotel-stormcove/

Community of Magic Pens (2020, pre-order now) – Stories evoking the idea of magic pens – and if you pre-order a print copy for a gift, you’ll get included an ebook for yourself. Limited-edition hardcovers also still available!
https://magicpens.backerkit.com/hosted_preorders

Would enjoy a sweet page-turner about life, friendships, and each other
The last president of the SFWA, Cat Rambo, referred to this book as “one of the best fantasy books of 2019” and blogger Maria Haskins listed it on her 12 recommended novels of 2019 list. I really can’t emphasize enough how good we think this book is. A really solid, wonderful gift, and you don’t need to be a fantasy reader – it’s really a contemporary, literary book with a backdrop that includes ghosts. Sweet, funny, serious, all at once. See the page for more, including a summary and reviews from Andrea Hairston, the San Francisco Book Review, and more. The Traveling Triple-C Incorporeal Circus by Alanna McFall –
https://www.atthisarts.com/dd-product/the-traveling-triple-c-incorporeal-circus/

Would enjoy an easy-reading, ghostly feud
Our best-selling titles, readers have loved the story of Dr. Anna Roberts, a free clinic doctor who realizes she can interact with ghosts. Set in Kansas City, we think the juxtaposition of a doctor’s clinical mind with the paranormal elements of an ancient ghost feud is pretty awesome. And there is a full three-book series for you to give all at once, or be set for the next three gifts. : ) The series is called Anna’s Nightmare and the three books (in order) are When They Come Calling, When They Come True, and When They Come Alive by Sarah Fleming Mountford –
https://www.atthisarts.com/dd-product/when-they-come-calling/

Loves graphic novels, art, and awesome storytelling
Have you seen the stunning art of our upcoming graphic novels? The art speaks for itself (it really does) and I will tell you that the author is a wonderful, immersive storyteller as well. I am so excited for these. Available in 2020, these will make amazing gifts, and original art and limited-editions are still available! Remember with our pre-orders, you can order a print copy for someone and get a digital copy for you! Icarus and Jellinek by Gregory A. Wilson with art by Áthila Fabbio –
https://icarus.backerkit.com/hosted_preorders

For kids! (or for anyone; they are really charming)

We love our middle-grade titles. The exact age depends greatly on the reader (these would be perfect for many adults), but usually 9-12ish.

This first book, a short, sci-fi novella that’s short and thus really great to read together, is a fun, hopeful space adventure – written by a 12 year old! I love this book so much. A Spatial Surprise by Symthasree Sarojini Koganti – https://www.atthisarts.com/dd-product/a-spatial-surprise/

The next, a trilogy that will complete in 2020, is a classic, fantasy with modern twists and a “big kid” feel. Not overly violent and without romance, the trilogy (which keeps getting better as it goes along, by the way) features young Anna Lieay as she battles the wicked wraiths, along with her close-knit army unit, and tries to save humanity. When my nephew was 13, he called the first book the best book he’d ever read! Descent of Shadows Trilogy by Ryanne Glenn –
https://www.atthisarts.com/dd-product/descent-of-shadows/

What about a really just fun, weird, quirky adventure? This adventure fantasy is full of big imagery, big imagination, and two of the most fun children’s characters I’ve ever read. The book is available as three chapter books or one omnibus – and we’re working on having the whole trilogy in audiobook as well! (Part 01 is available in audio now.) Foreverafter: An Odd Adventure by K.J. Quint –
https://www.atthisarts.com/dd-product/foreverafter-an-odd-adventure/

What about you, Emily? Don’t you write too? Isn’t this your page?

Aww, I do have a thing I’m working on. Ten unique little novellas – finishing up this October. They look super cute on a shelf and you could buy them in two sets: 01-05 now and 06-10 next year. My books are experimental fantasy, with themes of connectedness, non-violence, identity, friendship, and freedom. The readers for this serial are very devoted; I get private messages frequently from people telling me how much the serial has meant to them. Buying them for yourself or for gifts would make me very happy. And since it’s a serial, you can try it in parts. (By the end of Part 02 you will know if you’re going to enjoy it.) Diamondsong by E.D.E. Bell –
edebell.com/diamondsong

And you can order signed copies of Diamondsong or my first four novels at http://store.edebell.com/. (A few numbered copies are still available of each!)

What about other presses?

Yes, great question! Our books have a definite vibe to them (https://www.atthisarts.com/about-atthis-arts/ describes this more) – if you’re looking for something different, send us a note at atthis@atthisarts.com and we can see what we can come up with. A few quick ideas: (There are just so many, I’ll try and add more over time.)

For top-quality horror, science fiction, and fantasy, check out Apex Publications at https://www.apexbookcompany.com/ – I really enjoyed Pimp My Airship, a witty afrofuturistic steampunk taking place in alternate Indianapolis. And for exciting tales and awesome collections, check out DefCon One Publishing at http://www.defconone.com/ – did you know I have a story in I Didn’t Break the Lamp? (And I’m really proud of it.)

Love sexy romance with rock stars and glam? Check out Rock Star’s Heart by Kella Campbell –
http://kellacampbell.com/rockstarsheart/

Prefer urban fantasy? Author T.J. Lockwood has three gray morality books for you –
http://mechapandapublishing.com/catalogue/

What about YA? Oh, good point! Turns out my main Diamondsong editor also writes hopeful, beautiful young adult fantasy –
http://catherinejonespayne.com/

And more middle-grade, this lovely series features child angels and a whole world of wonder, and is suitable for both religious and secular readers! The Rafe Ryder Series by L.L. Reynolds –
https://llreynolds.com/rafe-ryder-and-the-well-of-wisdom/

I hope this was helpful! Thanks so much for supporting indie fiction!

♥ Emily.

P.S. Contact us at sales@atthisarts.com if you’d like a price break on multiple copies.

The Bells at Penguicon 2019

We had a really fun time at Penguicon this weekend, and I thought I’d provide a rundown, both for fun and also in case anyone out there is curious what it’s all about.

First: the premise. Penguicon is a community-run convention for a wide range of storytelling, gaming, and other open-thought activities. Here are my overall thoughts and surprises:

  1. It’s everything. I mean, not the millennial “it’s everything” but like it’s all over the place. People provide and share their own events, which range from readings, gaming, costumes, discussions, crafts, tech, burlesque, food, I mean… it’s a lot.
  2. Everyone there seems really happy. I’ve been to cons where people are engaged or excited, but I’ve never been to one where everyone is walking around looking so darn happy. The vibe was really great—very community feeling.
  3. The vendors were top-notch. I’m used to seeing many of the local vendors at a variety of events, cons, and street fairs, but in this case I really noticed that some of the best craftspeople were there. The crafts, jewelry, art, and other items were all really fun. You really could just go there and gift shop.

So what did we do?

Well, first, I confess that I caught the funk, and not that good Dayton funk, coming back from Gem City Comic Con last weekend. Despite my best allegiance to hand-sanitizer, sometimes it happens. However, the few hours where I pretty much completely lost my voice also coincided with two first Penguicon panels. So I apologize to those of you who had to listen to me straining to channel my inner stressed-out-frog. I know it was disturbing.

First, Chris did a workshop on formatting a manuscript for indie publishing. The questions were great, and I hope people learned a few tips. (Note: Chris offers publication services.)

Chris Discussing Formatting

Then, my friend Marsalis and I led a discussion on socially conscious fiction. Of course we didn’t claim to have the answers, but we discussed things we’ve seen as well as general advice for what to look for and where to seek (and not seek) help. We emphasized the point: it’s all about being thoughtful, about listening, and about considering how what you write may convey to other people.

If you like really big, bold always-exciting writing, check out Marsalis on Twitter, Instagram, and Amazon.

Then, Chris and I went to a reading by Saladin Ahmed, where, even knowing he is a skilled and varied writer, I blurted out that I was a Kamala Khan fangirl in my froggy voice. Look, I love her.

And after that, I was co-leading a panel on advice on short fiction submissions. As I started to say the few things I wanted to say, the other editor abruptly took ill and left, leaving me and my now 2% battery voice up there alone. Which made this really the coolest place to be at 8 PM Friday night. Luckily, Chris stepped in and helped discuss anthologies in general, as well as some of the red flags on contracting and terms. And…what a great audience. I sort of can’t believe you stayed! I hope it was worth the time!

And if you want to hear more on our upcoming anthology Five Minutes at Hotel Stormcove, (it releases this week!) I was excited to be on another episode of Pondo’s Playground discussing it: I hope you’ll give it a listen!

We went back Saturday to hang out, and of course being May the Fourth and Free Comic Book Day, we had to swing by and catch the atmosphere (and update from the pull file) at Comics & More in Madison Heights, which is a super cool store.

Making our way to Penguicon, we enjoyed listening to horror author Stefani Manard talk about her own experiences with indie publishing, along with a team member from Podcast Detroit. She had a lot of great advice to offer!

Now, you’ll notice these have all been literary events. (Marsalis and I joked that all our events were marked with “Lit” like yeah, obvs.) Not feeling great still, I didn’t want to push it, but I wanted to try at least something different. So we went to a meditation overview with a Zen Priest. It was…calming. And…it took them about ten seconds to tell me I needed to stop worrying about what other people think of me. I’m trying! Anyway, they recommended a specific book so I’m totally going to try that.

After we left, we went to the other side of Southfield to try a place I’ve wanted to go for so long: Taste of Ethiopia. So good. If you’re in the area, stop by! (Very vegan-friendly, for my peeps. They make their own cheesecake, mmm.)

Ethiopian Food Cameo

And then Sunday, Chris and I ran a panel called “Meet Atthis Arts,” where we talked about our small press – really just to let people know who we are, what we believe, and about all our great titles. Afterward, we had such a nice time talking to Marv, we joined him in the bar for a Penguicon wrap-up. (Hey, Marv!)

Then we went back to the Penguicon bookstore (“Writers’ Block”) and were excited to see that all six pre-release copies of Five Minutes at Hotel Stormcove had sold, along with some of my own titles. If you bought one, thank you, and I hope you enjoy it!

Hotel Stormcove Debut

Anyway, we’d like to thank the Penguicon organizers and attendees for making this such a pleasant experience. We’ll definitely be back in 2020 – and maybe we’ll see you there?