Where I'll Be This Year (Or, Come Meet A Weasel!)
You know what I love? Making new friends at conventions. This is why I go to them.
So if you wanna meet me, generally, go to a convention I’m at. I’ll hug you. I’ll buy you a drink. I’ll talk too much about Rock Band 4. And I’ll sign my book, oh God, I will be so happy if you want me to sign my book.
Anyway, here’s the cons I’ll be at in 2015. These are all awesome cons, and I would highly recommend going to them if you are interested in what these cons do.
WorldCon, in Spokane, Washington! (August 20th-23rd)
This is the biggest sci-fi convention in the world, and it is hellaciously fun. I’ll be mostly barconning it with Gini, but I’m told Angry Robot will have a booth, and as such I’ll be sitting at their table, signing. And when I’m not, I’ll occasionally be Twittering my location and inviting y’all to join me.
SINergy, in Lansing, Michigan! (August 28th-30th)
This is a kink con where I’ll be presenting on fireplay. I’ve never done this particular convention before, but two of my favorite online kink writers are there – Graydancer and Alice Skary – so I anticipate it’ll be a good time.
COPE, in Columbus, Ohio! (September 11-13th)
Yet another kink con I’ll be attending. I won’t be doing any presenting here, just hanging out with my sweetie and yakking a lot.
The Geeky Kink Event in Piscataway, New Jersey! (November 6th-8th)
Huh. A third kink con. This gives the impression that the only events I attend are kinky ones, whereas the truth is that all my lit-cons (ConFusion, Penguicon) fall at the beginning of the year, whereas the kinky stuff is at the end.
If you’ve never been to a kink con before, this is the one I’d advise you to start at – because the focus is not on the kink, but the geeky stuff. There’s a lot of sexy things happening here, but realistically this is one of the more wholesome cons because it’s a celebration of Doctor Who, and My Little Pony, and cosplay, and friendship.
With some kink thrown in. In a strong consent culture. It’s hella-fun, but tickets go fast, so you need to reserve now.
And Maybe Chicago And Denver.
In addition, I may be doing some extra signings for when the sequel to my book Flex (called The Flux, which features Ferguson-style showdowns and the most unlikely ‘mancer you’ve ever seen) hits in October, depending on whether I can arrange the time off and the appropriate bookstore to host me.
(Remember, I get paid no money to go do a book signing. In most cases, I lose money. So I’m thrilled that you want me to sign at your town, and I’d love to, but I have limited vacation time and travel expenditures to run at. Want me to come to your town? Convince a local convention to invite me and pay my way, because holy God, you do not wanna know how much I’ve spent on gas and plane fares this year.)
So How Stable WERE Calvin And Hobbes' Parents, Anyway?
Right now, before reading the rest of this essay, I want you to formulate an opinion:
Calvin’s parents (of Calvin and Hobbes) were:
a) A loving relationship;
b) A troubled, but ultimately stable, relationship;
c) On the brink of divorce.
Okay. Got an opinion? Remember it. I want you to tell me at the end of this post.
Thing is, it’s hard to tell in Calvin and Hobbes, because Watterson purposely hid the details of what the parents did. You’ll never hear them called by name: they are only “mom” and “dad.” We only know what Calvin’s Dad does for a living if we’re paying very close attention (for the record, he’s a patent attorney). What you see in Calvin’s parents’ relationship most likely reflects your reality.
But I have a theory:
I think if you came from a dysfunctional family, where bickering and dissension only takes place as part of a hostile environment, you see Calvin’s parents as on the brink of divorce, because in the strip they frequently have conflict over Calvin (who is, to be honest, a kid who any good set of parents would have some conflict about).
And in a dysfunctional family, where everything’s so soaked in anger that the slightest tinder could set everything irreparably on fire, open conflict is the sign of danger. You spend so much time trying to avoid setting anyone off, being nice, eating your emotions, redirecting conversations, that when two people actually do uncork something that vexes them, that means they’re about to fucking kill each other.
So when you see Calvin’s parents angry at each other about Calvin, you think God, they’re close to losing it. This family’s going South.
Whereas if you came from a non-dysfunctional family, conflict is just part of normal, everyday working out problems. You come to someone with an issue, you yell, you figure out how to deal with it, it goes away. Sometimes you yell and it’s over like a summer storm, this three-sentence “WELL FINE!” that leaves you both laughing, and you don’t think that telling someone you’re angry is a big thing because, well, it isn’t.
For these people, Calvin’s parents are a strong relationship because they do occasionally express conflict over Calvin.
Because frankly, the answer to “Are Calvin’s parents happy?” is “We don’t know.” It’s a purposely myopic view, from Calvin’s rather self-centered perspective, and that’s the charm of the strip. But the glimpses we get?
They tell us far more about you than about Calvin’s family, most likely.
Now. Please. Tell me how stable you thought Calvin’s parents were, and why, and debate in the comments, because I find this fascinating.
Be The Air Guitarist.
I learned a vital lesson about life when I went to the Air Guitar tryouts, and watched pudgy men blaze out solos on imaginary guitars.
Now, Air Guitaring is a serious business, as the world championships are a highly prestigious event. There are camps you can go to that will improve your technique, prevent the “wobbly-neck” syndrome common among amateur air-guitar-wranglers. And of course, there are the various schools of air guitar approaches…
…but mostly, it’s about being willing to flail about like a complete idiot in front of large crowds.
Now, the air-guitar tryouts had some impressive stunts – backflips, magician’s fire, surprise confetti – but the best thing about it was the lineup of former air guitar champions who graded and critiqued everyone’s performance.
And after one particularly enthusiastic-but-technique-free attempt, one of the judges said what is perhaps the most interesting thing I’d ever heard:
“As world-famous air guitar heros, one of the questions we get asked all the time is, ‘Do you get groupies, playing imaginary guitar?’ And I am ashamed to admit this, but…
“Yes. All the time. Tons of them.
“As it turns out, if you do something with all your heart before a crowd full of people, they will react to that thing, no matter what it is.”
This is, to a large extent, the driving factor behind my whole blogging career. Who the fuck wants to hear about a pudgy neurotic from Cleveland? But I’m unashamed in what I do, and I put a full-throated passion into writing about such ludicrous topics as, say, playing air guitar – and so people react to that.
Which is why it drives me nuts when I keep hearing that “women like bad boys” over and over again. And not just because it assumes women are some homogenous compound, where one woman can be profitably replaced by any other woman because they all tumbled out of the same mold down at The Woman Factory, where women have been identically manufactured since the Neolithic era.
Now, some women do like bad boys, because some segment of women are guaranteed to like almost anything. But I suspect what most women are drawn to is what people are drawn to:
Passion.
And for all the talk about bad boys being a Venus flytrap for women, I’ve seen dudes who are super-passionate about the stupidest things manage to date, and date well (as long as they were interested in dating well, which – because men are not homogenous either – some of them were not). I’ve seen dudes super into Magic: the Gathering – one of the nerdiest fucking games in existence – manage to date with wild success, simply because they loved what they loved unapologetically, and people liked being around that.
Because folks are hardly ever passionate about one thing. I find that people with passions are so brimming over with enthusiasm that they’re not just into hacking, they’re into lockpicking too, and fencing on the side. That firebrand liberal activist isn’t just into getting her candidate elected, she’s into woodworking and going to Burning Man and learning fire poi.
Yet passion is a sadly lacking quality. Nice guys don’t have it: they’re too eager to get along with people, and passion involves occasionally coming into conflict.
Passion involves not just doing the thing, but being so into the thing that you become an advocate for it, thundering “WHAT? YOU’VE NEVER SEEN ‘THE ROOM’? OH MY GOD, DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH FUN YOU COULD BE HAVING RIGHT NOW?” and then hauling ’em off elsewhere.
And I think what women – what people – want is not someone who shrugs and goes, “That’s all right, I guess,” but someone to swoop into their life like The Doctor and cry, “ADVENTURES ARE AHOY!” and take you out somewhere to try to share all of their zest for life with you. (And, in turn, to find the new things to get passionate about, which they can often find through you.)
Bad boys want things, and aren’t afraid to ask for it. But so are good boys, and bad women, and good women. The passion’s the piece that locks all of them together.
And a lot of folks aren’t passionate because they’re afraid that if they did really go for this thing they want with all their heart, people would think they were foolish. And some people will. Because people are not a homogenous entity, either. Someone’s going to think you’re foolish no matter what you do, and you can’t escape that.
But if something as inherently silly as air guitarists can have women longing for their loins, then whatever you do with fearless passion will also acquire fans. You just have to have that bravery to do it, loudly, unapologetically, and with all the mistakes you’ll make when you’re doing something at the edge of your abilities.
Maybe you don’t have the talent to play the guitar. But still – you could be the air guitarist.
Be the air guitarist.
People will follow.
Why The Fuck Should Anyone Treat A Secondary Well?
The biggest sin a primary couple can perpetrate upon a quote-unquote “secondary” is to treat the secondary like an ablative meat-shield. “Hey, you’re fun to fuck, but – oh, whoops, did you actually have needs of your own? You want us to do something? AWOOGAH AWOOGAH ABORT ABORT!”
Basically, if you’re dating someone as a couple, you need to care – *both* of you – for the well-being and happiness of the “secondary.”
This applies even if you’re not dating the other person.
“But that’s crazy!” you say. “I’m not fucking him, she is! Why should I care if she’s upset?”
There’s two answers here: there’s the “because you’re a compassionate human being” answer, and the “You’re a selfish jerk, but need reminders as to cause and effect.”
The “Compassionate human being answer” is simple: Because even every human being is due respect. You’ve generously allowed your partner to have a relationship with someone, and that person has their own needs and desires that also need to be fulfilled.
If you treat your combined relationship as a closed ecosystem – as in, “The two of us make the rules, and to hell with anyone who thinks they can ask anything of us” – then you’re going to have a lot of hurt partners who feel powerless, because they are powerless.
Secondaries should have the right to negotiate for better terms. They should have the right to open up uncomfortable questions in the “main” relationship, such as “Is this restriction placed upon me fair?”
Which is not to say secondaries should always get what they want – but then again, nobody gets what they want entirely in any healthy relationship. But if the rule is “No sleepovers, my man sleeps in my bed,” then after some time a secondary should have the right to open up a dialogue saying, “Okay, why no sleepovers? Why can’t we go away on a two-day weekend?” And to have their questions answered honestly with the possibility of change, not just shunted away with BECAUSE I’M THE BOSS HERE, SEE?
Ah, but wait: You’re kind of a selfish git, and you don’t believe you should have to care about the feelings of these secondaries. Fuck those people. They’re getting enough already.
Yeah, that’s gonna backfire.
Because while we talk about the horrors that primaries enact upon secondaries all the time, we often don’t talk about the depravities of the shitty secondaries. They’re the inverse of this “I don’t give a shit as long as I get mine” rule – hey, I’m dating this guy here, who gives a crap about his wife? He’s a big boy. He can settle those differences on his own time.
And those shitty secondaries are just as awful as the shitty primaries, causing all sorts of havoc because fuck it, I didn’t make these rules, I’m not gonna obey them, let her handle it with him.
When you become a dictator, you tend to drift towards other dictators as partners. Because compassionate folks won’t stay in a relationship where the primary can change the terms at any moment on a whim, for no good reason. Why should they? You’re not offering anything except heartache and loss.
So if you don’t give a shit about your partners’ secondaries, the ugly truth is that your partners’ secondaries won’t give a shit about you.
And that might work well for months, even years, as long as your partner’s okay with losing whoever she’s dating. But what often happens in the long run is that your partner runs into someone he does value, and you’ve trained that person to dismiss your needs because you dismissed theirs, and now they’re wondering why they shouldn’t just take everything they can get…
…well, you see a lot of broken-up primary relationships where one partner Tarzan-swings to their new lover, and the former dictator is left alone and broken.
Look. As a primary couple, what you want in a secondary is someone who respects your dynamic. Someone who is, in fact, invested in your combined happiness, who wants you to thrive as a couple. Someone who, when you guys run into the inevitable bumps that any primary relationship encounters, will work to put you two back together rather than trying to tear you apart.
But you won’t find those people dictating terms from on high. If you want the best kind of secondary partners, you have to provide the best kind of secondary relationship – one where their needs are respected if not always met perfectly, one that changes depending on the situation to accommodate the shifting needs within.
In relationships, I find, you often get what you give. It’s scary, giving. It’s weird, negotiating with people you have no romantic attachment to, may not even necessarily care for, and yet still treating them like their desires aren’t invalid merely because they conflict with yours.
But damn, man, it’s really the only way to build lasting relationships for everyone.
How To Win A Signed Copy Of FLEX On National Donut Day!
So my book FLEX features donuts.
And bureaucromancy, and magical drugs, and epic battles with brainwashed government squads of magicians, and kinky videogamemancers…
…but mostly, a lot of donuts. Because I love donuts.
So in honor of National Donut Day, I will be giving away three free copies of FLEX to people who honor donuts! And probably donut-related swag, depending on where you live! (Hint: You on the West Coast do not know the glory that is Dunkin’ Donuts.)
So how do you get in on this action?
1) TAKE A PHOTO OF YOURSELF WITH A DONUT. That’s easy!
2a) IF YOU ARE ON TWITTER (easiest): Post a picture of yourself with your amazing donut and the hashtag #donutmancy (a running gag in the book), and I’ll find you. You may also get a surprise.
2b) IF YOU ARE ON THE INTERNETS: Post a picture of yourself with a donut on your blog or Facebook, then email me a link to your photo at theferrett@theferrett.com so I know about it. (Major style points if you post a picture of yourself with a donut and a copy of Flex.)
3) DO THIS BY NOON EST TOMORROW. I shall draw three winners for the contest, and then ship them out!
But have we celebrated National Donut Today? Oh, you betcha:
