Canadian National Steampunk Exhibition: A Review
This past weekend I had the privilege of attending the inaugural Canadian National Steampunk Exhibition (Twitter) which occurred just outside of Toronto.
(Steampunk in a nutshell is a revival of Victorian-era sensibilities, often with a rebellious ("punk") edge. It manifests itself in fashion, music, and machinery, as well as in fiction.)
Unfortunately, I was only able to go on Sunday, so this is not a comprehensive review. From what I was able to see, the convention was well attended, the programming excellent, the dealers many and varied, the guests well dressed and very friendly.
Lines Are For the Restroom
I've always preferred to color outside the lines. No matter how awesome the box, I'm not good at staying inside it. I can't march to anyone else's drum. (Can't really march at all, but anyway.) Perhaps it's no surprise I'm awful at cramming my writing into a genre.
As a reader, I find genre highly useful. I know what I'm getting when I grab a space opera, a military SF, a cozy mystery, a Big Fat Fantasy. I want some surprises, of course, but I also want to know what I'm getting into. That what I'm picking up is the sort of book I'm going to enjoy.
That's as a reader. As a writer...I have a serious genre-problem. I can't help it—I like to cross lines. At the Alamo, I'd have been doomed for certain.
Evoking Memory
I play a game with myself at work. My bosses play a classic rock station on the radio, and I try to identify as many songs and artists as I can. What's scary is that I've been able to identify almost all of them.
What's interesting is that they evoke so many memories for me.
For instance, any song by Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons brings up memories of my childhood at our old house. It's summer. Dad's working on one of his cars. Mom's in the kitchen cooking. My sister and I are in the living room dancing to Dad's Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons tape (yes, this was before CDs and DVDs). I remember vividly “Big Girls Don't Cry,” “Walk Like A Man,” “Rag Doll,” and “Sherry.” There are many more.
To Save Your Craft, You Must Vacation Separately
Sometimes, in order for my writing craft to excel, I have to take a break from it. Which is why, at least once a year, I break out the assless chaps and hit a writing conference.
Writing conferences are great. While the free-love atmosphere and mind-boggling variety of mind-blowing drugs are not to be dismissed, I have to admit my favorite aspect of writing conferences are the booth babes.
