So I just found out that I won two admission tickets to this year’s Penned Con in St. Louis!
Huge shout-out of gratitude both to Bridget Blackwood, who organized the giveaway, and Laurie Bowen, who could not make it, but who graciously gave me her winning ticket so that I could bring a guest to push my wheelchair!
Oh…I just made myself happy-sad.
Anyway, I will be in St. Louis, Missouri, at the St. Louis City Center Hotel on Friday, September 29th, and Saturday, September 30th, if that interests anyone at all. I don’t have a table, since obviously I didn’t know I’ d be going, but I’ll be happy to sign books, napkins, boobs, or whatever you want signed.
In other news, it’s upload night, and a new chapter of my FNAFiction, Everything Is All Right, Part Three: Children of Mammon has just gone up at fanfiction.net and archiveofourown.org, so if you’re reading along, this is your cue to drop whatever you’re doing and click over to get your weekly FNAFiction fix. Or FNAFix, as I just decided I like to call it.
I also received a review on Fanfiction.net, which is great, especially since their review system tends to ‘lose’ a lot of reviews between the reader sending it and the site receiving it. I have got dozens, literally dozens, of notifications for reviews that have yet to actually appear where people can read them. But this one is an extra scoop of great and I wanted very much to reply, except that it is a ‘guest’ review and not, I’m assuming, that of a member, so I can’t reply to it over there. I can, however, reply here in the unlikely event that Cool Reviews is following my blog.
Here is his/her/its review:
I must ask, How does it feel to be able to sit down and type and know that what you are writing down is better quality than most published novels? Because as a writer myself I have to imagine that that would feel pretty good and I hope to find out myself someday. Congratulations on already being there! This whole series is fantastic and full of amazing use of foreshadowing and red-herrings. It was never predictable and every single reveal and event has felt fully and completely set up by the time of introduction, without ever feeling like the writing is too verbose. That is a difficult balance to pull off yet you have done it. You are a – literal – inspiration that has kicked my passion to write in the butt like only a few before, and you have renewed my interest in the FNAF world again. Bravo and thank you.
Some of you may be saying to yourselves, ‘Holy shit, R. Lee, egomaniac much? Are you seriously brag-blogging now?,’ while others may be saying, ‘Okay, R. Lee, sure that’s a nice thing for someone to say, but what’s the extra scoop of great?’ and still others are saying, ‘Did I turn the stove off? I’m sure I did. Maybe I should check, though.’
The answer my friends, stems not from the first sentence, but from the second-to-last (and also, no, you did not turn the stove off, you just turned off the oven light). There is no greater compliment I can think of than to be told I encouraged someone to write or renewed their passion for writing. That is, bar none, the greatest feeling in the world for me. And renewing interest in a game I love is the metaphorical cherry on top.
Cool Reviews, if you’re reading this, reader response like that is the reason I am posting this fanfiction out on a public forum instead of just passing it around to my friends, and I would love to read your stories in the future. And to all my readers, your continued support as I take this time to play around in an abandoned pizzeria instead of writing a ‘real’ book means a lot to me. So once again, thank you one and all.
Now let us celebrate our mutual friendship by all joining hands and hearts and reading this excerpt of this week’s uploaded chapter. (I’m running out of ways to segue to the excerpt…)
As the sun began its final descent on the first day of July, Ana sat on the loading dock of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria, enjoying the feel of the breeze if not the smell of it, and suffering the oppressive heat even as she basked in the inner warmth of a day’s work done well. There were a few hours of daylight left and she supposed she had work enough to fill them, but she was comfortable with the progress she’d made. Yes, she’d have to make up tomorrow everything she’d put off today, but life was about learning to compromise and sometimes a girl needed a cold beer and some dank weed more than she needed to check off all her little boxes. Her only regret was that she hadn’t thought to go get dinner first, but there was nothing she could do about it now. Once the cap came off and the lighter came out, the keys went away. Ana Stark had done a lot of stupid things in her life and had no doubt she’d go on to do a lot more, but she always flew responsibly.
So she was done for the day, but as ready as she was to relax, she found it difficult to switch off her brain. Again and again, it took her through a speed-build of the roof, looping through the stages, playing out alternate paths should various obstacles arise, bringing her triumphantly to the conclusion only to queue itself up again. She had a feeling the problem would resolve itself by the end of this joint, but in the meantime, it was damned annoying. She just wanted to relax and yet, here she was again, skipping through tomorrow to wake up predawn on the 3rd, climbing up to the roof and laying down the deck, building outward from the storeroom-corner so she never had her back to the road. Get the underlayment down, even if it meant working through the night, and up again at five on the 4th, tar and overlay in sections, should be done well before midnight. A good night’s sleep and up at five on Sunday to finish off with the top-coat and all the booting around the HVAC system.
The real HVAC system, she amended, glancing back and up through the exposed beams at what she could see of the mystery ductwork that had been hidden in the old roof.
It still bothered her. What were they? They weren’t anything to do with the air conditioning system; the effort of believing that, even half-heartedly, was too exhausting to keep up. But they weren’t anything like the ducts she and Mike had crawled through at the Toybox, either. They were big enough, sure, but at the Toybox, the ducts had been on the ground and had openings in all the rooms where…someone…might want to spy on their prey. Here, the ducts were on the ceiling and the vents, what few there were, were set inaccessibly high, in places that Ana could not imagine gave anyone a good view of the guests below. If it wasn’t for a practical purpose and wasn’t part of Mike Schmidt’s killer-animatronic nonsense, what was it for?
Easy enough to see for herself.
“Oh come on,” Ana murmured, even as her heart leapt with excitement. “You can’t really be thinking about climbing in there.”