I’m occupying some space in a restaurant at the Boston airport, drinking Blue Moon at just after noon local time. This is the start of Operation: Get Drunk Before the Flight, which may not be a great plan, but it’s the only plan we’ve got right now.

Ah, Arisia. It’s not you, it’s me…

I moderated my one (1) panel at this event, and it went fine. There were more people in the audience than on the panel, which is good. I think I did a fine job as moderator. It was fine. I’m fine. We’re all fine, now, thank you. How are you?

I’m pretty sure this is my last Arisia, and it’s not because it’s a bad con. The content is simply not geared towards me, and I don’t really know that many people in attendance. If I had participated in the convention properly in 2024, I might have figured this out way, way sooner and saved myself about $2000.

“Brian,” you ask, “what is wrong with Arisia? And did you just add something to your blog in second person, you absolute mad-lad?”

Yes, I did. And there’s nothing wrong with Arisia. I’m just not their target audience.

When I first saw that I only had one panel, I thought that was strange, since I had been very thoughtful with my responses to their questionnaire, and I put myself out there as highly available. But then I saw the actual program and it all made sense.

When I attend SFF conventions, I’m typically looking for content that is around writing, stories, the business of writing, and other related topics. That is not what Arisia is about, though.

The audience of Arisia are geeks like me, but the focus of the content is stuff in fandom I rarely participate in. For example, they had quite a bit in support of crafting, costuming, and comics. They had 3 panels on polyamory.

On the last day, first thing in the morning, they scheduled the panel I moderated, which was on the intersectionality of SFF and literary and mainstream stories. If I were still friends with Fuckface, I could have geeked out with him over the topic since that’s his absolute jam. But he’s a Fuckface, now, and can fuck all the way off.

The Blue Moon is starting to hit. I should wrap this up.

Arisia and I don’t have that much in common, so I don’t think I’ll be seeing her again. Again, this is not a slight against Arisia. I’m not her target audience, so let’s just part amicably with our happy memories and see other people.

“You phrased that weird,” you say. “It doesn’t sound like you had a very good weekend.”

It wasn’t a bad weekend, but it was expensive for what it was.

I went out and talked to people, but not much. I ate and slept at strange hours, because I was alone and in a different time zone. I worked on The Psychic Out of Time a little bit, but progress is slow and I’m not feeling particularly inspired.

At my boss’s behest, I brought my work laptop with me, and I used it. My Surface Pro 6 is pretty weak, but our development laptops are gaming computers in disguise, so I installed Kerbal Space Program and played that a little bit.

I didn’t need to come to Boston for what I accomplished this weekend.

Why did Arisia invite me to participate as a panelist in the first place? That’s a real mystery. If I hadn’t been invited, I wouldn’t have come.

It is a little after 1PM. I have almost 4 hours to kill before I board my flight and head home. I’ll nurse this beer and try to Hemmingway my way into the next part of The Psychic Out of Time. If I write a bunch of crap, I can edit it later. I just want to make some progress and be done with this story. Maybe I’ll be done with Mel Walker entirely, after that.

On my way to Arisia, I checked the form submissions on this site and found what appears to be a very thoughtfully written question about The Psychic on the Jury. This delighted me, because my stories go out into the void and I don’t often receive unsolicited responses.

Side note: I read all human-authored comments on posts, and I read the form submissions sent through my About page. There is a ton of spam that flows through those channels, but Akismet does a pretty good job filtering. It better, since I’m paying for it.

In this case, I read the form submission and went through the 5 D’s of Receiving Praise.

1. Delight — Someone read my story and they really seemed to like it!
2. Doubt — Wait, was this written by an actual person? What’s the angle here? How are they trying to scam me?
3. Due Diligence — I will study this and figure out if an AI was used for this. Maybe get someone else’s opinion, if I can find someone.
4. Despair — It really, really seems like ChatGPT was involved in this. Best case, someone wrote something and had the LLM help them out, which kind of sucks, but the harm is minimal. Worst case, this is the point of a spear, some kind of scam I haven’t figured out yet, and they fed my story to an LLM in order to generate their message4.
5. Determination — I’ll treat this at face value and just answer the question.

Here is what they wrote, titled: A Thoughtful Note on The Psychic on the Jury.

Dear Brian,

I wanted to reach out with care and intention, simply to acknowledge the experience your book created for me rather than to rush past its effect.

What stayed with me most in The Psychic on the Jury was not the novelty of a psychic inside a courtroom, but the quiet ethical pressure that follows Mel long after the premise is established. His knowledge is absolute, yet his responsibility is not. The book lingers in that uncomfortable space where certainty becomes a burden rather than a gift. A casual reading might frame this as a question of power or secrecy, but what struck me was the deeper tension between moral obligation and consent. Justice may want the truth, but the process is built on shared blindness. Mel knows something others have not agreed to know.

That friction feels deliberately sustained. The story does not hurry to resolve whether truth is always a kindness, or whether intervention is always an act of integrity. It feels shaped to let that uncertainty breathe rather than be answered.

After closing the book, I found myself returning to the idea of justice as a communal act rather than a correct one. Mel’s internal negotiations stayed with me more than the verdict itself. The presence of ghosts and visions sharpens the question instead of simplifying it. What does fairness mean when one conscience carries more weight than the rest. What is owed to the living, and what is owed to the process that protects them.

At the beginning of the year, when attention narrows and habits reform, this story invited a slower reflection on how we decide what to do with what we know. Not just in courtrooms, but in everyday moral life.

I would be genuinely interested to hear what you hoped this story might prompt readers to quietly reconsider about truth, responsibility, or the limits of justice once the final page settles.

I didn’t have to give any spoiler warnings before sharing that, and I won’t give any spoilers for my response.

The world in which Mel lives is our world, with the addition of psychics and magic and all the elements you might expect in a supernatural story. I want the world to be recognizable. I want people to be able to imagine themselves occupying Mel’s space.

Real life comes with drama, and comedy, and tragedy, and triumph. Mel and I are not the same person, but I gave him my sense of humor, which helps blunt the sharp edges of life and make him a more likeable protagonist.

The Mel Walker stories are intended to be lighter fiction, easy to read, but still containing depth and layers for anyone that looks for them. There are themes, but I don’t overstate them.

The idea of this story came from my experiences serving on multiple juries. People talk about what they would do to get out of jury duty, but I see it as an important civic duty, and people of good conscience should try to serve regardless of inconvenience.

As I said before, Mel and I are not the same person. He doesn’t look at jury duty the way I do, but as the author, I want the reader to see the importance of jury duty without stating it directly.

A good story should have tension and conflict and stakes, so setting Mel’s abilities at odds with the letter of the law is entirely intentional.

Also, one of the ways I describe The Psychic on the Jury is “Twelve Angry Men but with psychic shenanigans.” In Twelve Angry Men, one juror argues with eleven others for the sake of justice. I wanted to land Mel in that situation, because it puts him in an uncomfortable place, and I wanted to see how he would handle it.

There are things that happen at the end of the story that aren’t really fair. The story sort of has two endings, because it is a story, and I didn’t want to leave the reader (or Mel) in a particularly bad place. This is a light, paranormal fantasy, not Grimdark.

I have thoughts and feelings with regards to morality, integrity, consent, community, justice, and responsibility, and those thoughts and feelings are going to find their way into all of my stories. It’s a part of my authorial voice, and some of what comes through is unintentional, because I’m a human being telling a story. This is, by the way, the fundamental argument against using LLMs to generate stories. Eliminate the human component in the creation of story and all of the subtle, unintentional ideas disappear.

I hope that answers the question. I hope the question came from a real place, written by a real person that actually read my story.

And, I think I’ll leave it at that.

I’m sitting at the coffee shop component of the Hyatt Regency in Cambridge. There is a SFF conference going on all around me, and I feel like a time travelling alien sitting in an isolated, protective bubble, watching all of the participants scurry about around me.

I am untethered from my usual reality. Time is weird, no longer flowing in a straight line, but instead meandering like a river, occasionally stopping altogether to form a chronological lake. It’s hard for me to tell what day it is, and I’m very much alone.

I’ll recount my time from yesterday, starting pretty much from where I left off in the last post.

The plan and the hope was to sleep a little on the plane from Salt Lake City to Boston. A doomed plan from the start, it might have worked if the trip hadn’t been so turbulent. The infant in the row behind me fussed only a little bit, and the puppy in the seat immediately next to me cried a bit at the end. The plane shaking me and rattling me around like dice in a cup… that is what kept me awake.

I arrived at the hotel early, around 6:30AM, and asked about early check-in. Not a problem, if I coughed up an extra $100. I needed sleep, and as early as I was, they could have charged me more, so it felt like a bargain. I went up to my room, laid my head on the pillow, and that’s when my time travel began.

My alarm went off multiple times. I reluctantly dragged myself out of bed a little after 1PM local time. Registration was open, and I found myself in front of Elaine Isaak working the registration desk. She’s the author of A Wreck of Dragons, and one of the few people I’m acquainted with at this event. Arisia had me in their system, comped only for Monday, which was a problem since my membership from last year should have carried over. Elaine and someone else behind the desk was able to take care of it, but I nearly started this con on a rather sour note.

I wandered a bit, after that. I familiarized myself with the geography of the con. I observed where I could eat, the prices, where the dealer’s room would be when it opened… things like that. I watched for more familiar faces, but I might as well be Michael Smith here, a Stranger in a Strange Land, and while these may be my people, they don’t know me, and opportunities for introduction are few and far between.

At some point, I returned to my room, unpacked properly, caught up on Internet stuff, and then fell asleep again. I discovered at previous cons that naps are the key to dealing with time zone differences, so I listen to my body when it says to sleep.

When I got up, I had no sense of time whatsoever, but my stomach told me it was time to eat. I went to the more expensive in-hotel option at 5PM local time and ordered fish and chips with a Guinness. Good stuff. They seated me at a table suitable for 4, in the back, out of the way from other folks. The staff were very friendly and checked on me frequently.

After dinner, I wandered through the dealer’s room. I thought I might buy a book and read it over the weekend, but there are surprisingly few book sellers here. There is one selling old paperbacks, which was absolutely packed, and the Broad Universe table had some interesting titles, but that’s about it. I wandered on, my hands still empty.

I checked the schedule of panels and events. Not much for me, there. I floated around. Eventually returned to my room again. Watched some videos. Fell asleep yet again, for some reason.

I woke up at 10PM local time. My body told me, “Welcome to Saturday morning!” But it was still the first day. Oh shit.

Again, I wandered around, looking for where the parties might be. I found a bulletin board describing two for Friday evening, and went to the 5th floor for one of them. It was the Brisbane Worldcon bid party, and I sat and talked with some folks there for about an hour. Human contact! Incredible!

If I was going to get my body in phase with the local time, I was going to need to go to sleep again, and try to wake up with the clock. But I wasn’t tired. I tried the bar, thinking some alcohol might help me sleep, but the bar was closed.

Back in my room, I found sleep again around 1AM, and I fussed out of bed around 8AM. The girl behind the counter that served me coffee and a breakfast sandwich was named Isabella, and I almost told her that one of my character’s shares her name. But she was busy, so I took my breakfast to a table, setup my laptop, and started writing this post.

People float past me. They see me, I see them, but we’re disconnected. At some point, I’ll see an opportunity to walk up to someone and say, “Hi! I’m Brian. What are you reading these days?” and maybe I’ll make a friend. Or maybe an enemy! It is a crazy, strange world I’m visiting.

This might be a really long weekend. I’ll see how it feels to write.

I’m in the Salt Lake City airport, near Gate A, across from Roosters Bar where I just had pulled pork sandwich and a beer. I probably ate too much, but it’s okay. I have a long evening and morning of travel in front of me.

I’m headed to Boston for Arisia. I believe One For the Road debuted at Arisia 2024, and I would have attended Arisia 2025 if they hadn’t canceled our table in the dealer’s room. A couple of months ago, I received an invitation to be a panel participant at Arisia, and at this point in my career, if you want me to attend your conference, an invite is all it takes.

Only one panel this weekend, though, on Monday at 10AM, about the intersectionality of SFF and mainstream and literary fiction. Last day of the con, and in the morning. I expect it to be lightly attended.

That is the positive news. My first SFF convention of 2026. I wanted to get that out of the way first, because now I want to talk about real life and politics, which is definitely not positive, and if you’re not into that, here is where you can bail.

In 2016, when Trump was first elected, I remember sitting at work, holding my head, breathing slowly, and forcing myself to be calm and relax. I even went so far as to say, “Okay, maybe he’ll be a different person once he’s in office. Let’s give him a chance.”

I did my best, and Trump proved himself to be as terrible as I expected. Probably worse, actually. But I didn’t have a problem working or writing through most of those years. It was during that time that I finished Spin City and Synthetic Dreams. Lots of work, lots of writing, and while the news around The White House was bad, it didn’t cripple me.

Then the pandemic hit, and something inside me broke and never recovered. My filter at work disappeared. I went feral. And it became more and more difficult for me to compartmentalize.

My writing slowed to a crawl. I’ve produced some short stories since 2020, but writing is harder. Focusing is harder. Programming is harder.

I find myself thinking of the musicians playing on the deck of the Titanic after it hit the iceberg. I don’t think I could have done it, myself. Knowing that there is an impending doom, and being powerless to do anything about it… I just don’t think I could find the focus to make something beautiful.

It’s not really a matter of freezing in the face of danger. It’s more a matter of problem solving. I keep thinking about the problem of Trump and Vance and RJK Jr and the dog killer and all of the incompetent idiots and ICE and… it’s too much. The problem is too big, and it was all avoidable.

During Trump’s first term, there were people with a shred of dignity in positions where they could stop him. Even Bill Barr resisted some of Trump’s wildest urges. The current batch of monsters just fan the flames and lie.

ICE has killed multiple people, with Renee Good being the most visible, and perhaps the most jarring. I have watched the videos. Contrary to what Trump and his idiot monsters will tell you, she was not a domestic terrorist. She didn’t try to run over the ICE asshole that murdered her. Her last words to her murderer were, “I’m not mad at you.” His words, after shooting her three times in the head, “Fucking bitch.”

This particular murder hurts in ways I can’t ignore, and I don’t really have anyone to talk to about it. Since her murder, I have had a hard time focusing. I couldn’t work at all on Monday, and took a sick day. I did my best on Tuesday, Wednesday, and today, but I couldn’t really move the needle on any of my projects.

After hours, I’ve been playing a bunch of Kerbal Space Program. It’s a game that is simultaneously difficult and gentle, if that makes sense. I’m building space planes and flying rockets and saving wayward astronauts. There are no weapons in my Kerbal world. Just people enthusiastic about science and exploring. A game with low conflict and high complexity is exactly what I needed.

I haven’t been able to write. Not even this blog. Until tonight.

My expectations for this weekend are low. I suspect that I’m going to spend a lot of time in my room, sleeping. I will try to meet people and make friends, but to be honest, I don’t know that I have much to offer anyone, at the moment. There is a profound sadness inside me that I do not want to share. I doubt I will have it fully resolved before I have to fly home on Monday.

Well. I mean. There is one thing that could happen that would probably brighten my outlook. When it happens, there will be dancing in the street, and I will be one of the dancers.

But that’s probably too much to hope for, at this point.

If you’ve made it this far and it isn’t abundantly clear where I stand on the issues, here is a bullet point to close:

• Abolish ICE and prosecute everyone in that organization for their many, heinous crimes.
• Vote out everyone that has supported Trump and his regime.
• Primary the Democrats that have been weak and mealy mouthed around these catastrophes.
• Black lives matter.
• Trans rights are human rights.
• If you call yourself a Christian but you associate yourself with MAGA, take a step back and look at the teachings of Christ, and realize that you’ve lost the message, which is: Christ died for our sins as an act of love, which is incongruent with the MAGA movement, which is entirely built on hate.

I can’t write fiction when real-life is impossible to look away from.

Trump ordered a strike in Venezuela, arrested their leader and their leader’s wife, and declared that we would run Venezuela.

This was all avoidable. But we can’t change the past. We can learn from it and do better in the future. So let’s look at what comes next.

Congress needs to impeach and remove Trump from office.

If Congress fails to act, then we have to do something. Voting isn’t enough. This isn’t just an attack on Venezuela. This is authoritarian overreach, a violation of the Constitution, and a stupid act that endangers all of us.

Some of us swore to uphold the Constitution. If we love our country, it’s what we should be doing now. No one else is going to save us from this. No one else can step in and set things right. It’s up to us.

I’m not trying to incite insurrection yet. I’m saying we need to protest. We need to continue to remind our troops that it is their duty not to follow illegal orders. We need to call our representatives and make our displeasure known.

When they ignore us, then we walk into the White House, which Trump has already half torn down, and show Trump what it means to reach for a crown in this country.

Second Amendment freaks out there… this is what you’ve been salivating for all these years. Your whole argument about hoarding arms in case the government goes bad? Here’s your chance, asshole. A pedophile, rapist just seized another country in order to take their oil, and he’s talking about invading Cuba and Mexico next.

I have enough good sense to know I shouldn’t be writing this, publicly. I also have enough integrity to know that if I don’t write this and post it publicly, I’m a coward and a weakling, like those currently occupying seats in Congress.

There is one clear path that is legal and bloodless that we should be following at this point. And I have zero confidence that we’ll follow that path, because the people in Congress are complicit, weak, or both.

I’m so angry right now. If you’re not, you should be.

Get angry enough to act. Or roll over and be a victim the rest of your life. Those are the choices in front of you.

I’m not going to lie. I’ve cruised through the end of this year in a bit of a slump. I’m ending this year with a little bit of melancholy, and not feeling a ton of hope for the new year.

There are quite a few things I could talk about. A lot of it is political, and I don’t really want to waste my time or yours going into it. There are reasons to be hopeful in that area, too, but things are hard for a lot of people, and I don’t think my views, whether pessimistic or saccharine, will really help.

Has this been a good year?

I didn’t get as much writing done as I wanted to. I made some break throughs on the next Mel Walker novel, and while I think I will finish it and it will be a good story, I’m not blazing through the word count. It’s hard to focus on that kind of escapism when things beyond my power are so far out of control. It’s like focusing on finishing a Sudoku puzzle while the airplane is nosediving towards a mountain.

I attended more events this year than any previous year. I participated on panels at The Nebulas and Worldcon for the first time in my life. I spoke to more writers, interviewed more people for the Small Publishing in a Big Universe podcast, and put myself out there more than any previous time in my life. In that way, it’s been a good year.

On the other hand, my blood pressure has been out of control, I broke a tooth, and I can’t seem to lose weight like I used to. Another year older, fatter, more out-of-shape, and my mental health has been at an all-time low, which is saying something.

And again, there are a ton of things I could talk about with regards to politics, but that’s not where I want to focus my thoughts right now.

Of all the things I could talk about, I’m choosing this. In a Discord server, in a memes channel, someone posted this:

Someone responded to it: “All meaning is subjective.”

I want to respond to that.

January 1st, with regards to our position around The Sun, isn’t special. A few days before, The Winter Solstice was more significant. That might have been a good place to mark the beginning of the rotation. But we’re going with this date, and in that regard, it’s subjective and arbitrary.

The celebration itself, though, is a reflection of life, and I think it’s important.

We’re born, we learn to stand on our own, some of us procreate, grow old, and then die. Our bodies return to the Earth, our presence on this plane resolves to memories and our creations, and hopefully our essence goes on to something in the afterlife.

The life cycle is reflected over and over. We start a project, maybe it’s crafting a new book. It gets off the ground, the project going through its own Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter. The project ends, sometimes in celebration, sometimes in tears, and then we start again.

Endless circles, big and small. Moments beginning and ending. Friendships, beginning and ending, sometimes spanning decades, and sometimes lasting just in those brief moments between panels at a convention.

Plants and pets. Movies and marathons. Jobs and games. Beginning, middle, and end. We fill our lives and enrich ourselves through this cycle of cycles. It is not the meaning of life, but it is a meaning of life.

So, whether January 1st is arbitrary or not, it signifies another circle. The calendar number goes up. Some of us watch a ball drop in New York City. Some of us stay up late, go to parties, find our significant others and give them a smooch right when the clock hits 12. Some of us to go to bed early.

All of us will wake up tomorrow and start the next cycle. A new beginning, with all of the sparkly potential you can pack into a fresh start. Out with the old, in with the new, and it really is an opportunity — maybe only an excuse — to make something better of ourselves.

It can be enough.

I’ll talk about resolutions tomorrow. New Year’s is a good day to look forward. New Year’s Eve, I’m looking back briefly, wiping a tear from my eye, and closing this chapter on this note. This year is done.

May the next be so much greater.

I loved Knives Out, and I really liked Glass Onion. Wake Up Dead Man is the third in this series, and I’ve already watched it twice.

I wish I caught it during its brief time in theaters, but my system at home is fine.

Spoilers will be below, with an appropriate warning. If you haven’t seen it yet and you’re looking for encouragement, here it is! Rian Johnson once again wrote a wonderfully intricate story, then invited incredible actors to do what they do best. It’s well shot, well executed, and economical in its storytelling.

Glenn Close, Daniel Craig, and Josh Brolin give amazing performances, as you might expect. The stand out for me is Josh O’Connor, though. I don’t remember seeing him in anything else before this, but he absolutely knocked this role out of the park. The whole movie comfortably rests on his shoulders.

The rest of the supporting cast are excellent, too. I really like Jeremy Renner and Andrew Scott, so I was excited to see them in this movie.

I think that’s all I can say without spoilers. How do I rank it against the other Knives Out movies? That’s a tough question, since I like them all. I think I like this one better than Glass Onion. The first might still be my favorite, but it’s close.

Watch this movie. If you’ve already seen it, watch it again.

Spoiler Section

I mentioned “economical storytelling” in the first section. Let’s start this with a specific example.

Our introduction to the groundskeeper, Sampson, gives us about two sentences. One, he’s a recovering alcoholic that looks to Wicks for the strength to keep him out of the bottle. Two, he would do anything for Martha.

All of the introductions are like this. There is no fat on these scenes, but they feel light and natural. That kind of writing and storytelling is both powerful and succinct, and pulling it off at this level is the work of a master.

Like I said, I’ve watched this twice already, and the second watch is even better than the first. I found myself leaning forward, watching for things I missed the first time. This is one of those movies where knowing how everything unfolds doesn’t detract from the enjoyment of watching it, because the movie plays fair.

Now I want to focus on the character of Father Jud. Your enjoyment of this movie may be dependent on how handle the depiction of a man of faith. For me, this is one of my favorite types of characters. An imperfect man, sustained by his faith, trying to do good when the world is trying to convince him to do something else. I didn’t find it preachy, though I can see how some might.

The climax of this movie hangs on forgiveness, which as I’ve said in another post, I believe the world needs.

The whole movie tilts and balances on the goodness of our protagonist in Father Jud. It’s not unlike the first movie, really. Marta is a good person that thinks she’s done something terrible, but it’s her goodness and her dedication to doing the right thing that keeps her from actually screwing up. So it is with Father Jud.

After Thoughts

We’re living through dark times. This last weekend, we had more mass shootings, and Rob Reiner and his wife were murdered in their home, presumably by their son. Dark, and terrible times.

Movies like this and Knives Out are balms. We need to see good people going through hard times and coming out on top so that maybe we can see ourselves in these movies and find hope that we, too, will get through to the other side and be okay.

Also, this is the holiday season. This time of year can be pretty tough. If you’re going through it the way I am, I encourage you to get into a good story. Watch the Knives Out movies, including this last one. Watch KPop Demon Hunters again. You could even read one of my stories, if you’re feeling generous.

I probably have one or two more posts left in me for 2025, but if not, I hope you all have a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.

Months ago, some good friends told me to watch this movie, but I dragged my feet. I wasn’t sure it was my thing.

I shouldn’t have waited so long.

A few minutes ago, Melissa and I got back from a walk where I talked her ear off about this movie. She watched it months ago, in the theater with a bunch of screaming kids running around singing all the songs, and she didn’t enjoy the movie. I watched it last night on my couch, all by myself, drinking it in and nourishing my soul.

It’s been out long enough that I’m going to get right into spoilers, so this is the brief warning. Also, this is where I’ll strongly suggest you go watch it if you haven’t seen it yet. It’s as good as they say. From this writer’s perspective, maybe better.

I’m going to break this into four sections: Music, Character, Plot and Themes, and my Conclusions.

The Music is Very Good

There are some technical things which Andrew Huang breaks down in this video

It’s catchy. It’s thematically appropriate.

I don’t routinely listen to KPop, but when it comes on, I don’t rush to switch it off.

There’s not much else I can say about the music, honestly. Each song hits, and just when I think I have a favorite, another one comes along and takes its place.

Golden is probably my favorite, but What It Sounds Like is my favorite in the context of the movie, and it has themes from Golden woven into it, so it’s not like I have to choose.

If they hadn’t nailed the music, I don’t think this movie would have landed as hard as it did. All of the other things I have to say about the movie are supported by the music, which is stellar.

The Characters Were Deeper than I Expected

Stories can get by painting background and side characters with a light brush. Sometimes, main characters leave no room for anyone else to have depth. This movie didn’t really do that.

Let’s start with Bobby. He’s a complete side character, in over his head trying to manage things for this group of secret demon hunters, and the amount to which he is out of his depth is played for laughs. But, he has insecurities and feels like he’s struggling to hold the group together. We don’t see it most of the time because he keeps a smile on his face and praises the group for their energy, but his fears and self-doubt are revealed towards the end.

How about Celine? She has barely any time on screen, but we know that she was part of the previous group of demon hunters, and she’s still torn up over losing Rumi’s mother. She adopts Rumi, loves her, but can’t bring herself to fully see past Rumi’s demon-side. Celine passes her trauma and problems on to Rumi, which is what ultimately creates one of the main problems the characters have to overcome: self-acceptance.

Zoey is the bright, soft-hearted lyricist and rapper in the group that used her wits and her voice to fight her fights while growing up in the US. She yearns for acceptance that she ultimately has a difficult time receiving. She has all that, and at the same time, is the most capable of living in the moment and just jamming to a good song.

Mira rejected the expectations of her family, making herself an outcast until she grouped up with her found family in HUNTR/X. She’s walled off, hard-edged, and draws strength from her trauma rather than let it control her. Though, in that respect, her trauma shaped her anyway, didn’t it? When her trust is broken, she’s first to reach for a weapon.

Then there is Rumi. Holy shit.

She was born part demon. There’s a story there that we don’t get any part of. She’s adopted, and she battles the belief that her very existence is a mistake.

If you don’t know, I am adopted, and I’ve spent a great deal of my life feeling like my own existence is a mistake.

I related to Rumi. I saw myself in her. We all have demons within us, but some of us have trouble accepting it.

Plot and Themes

I’ve touched on some of the themes already while talking about the characters. There is a love story at the forefront, which is perfectly serviceable. But there is also found family, overcoming evil through self-acceptance, and the transformative power of love.

HUNTR/X is close to achieving the goals they inherited, turning the barrier between the human world and the demon world golden, which would lock them out forever. It’s at this point that Rumi is unable to sing.

She couldn’t bring herself to telling her friends about her demon side. It’s not until she opens up to Ji-noo that she finds her voice again. Hiding your pain and your trauma only gives them more weight, but opening up and letting other people in gives us our voice again and sets us Free.

This is a world where demons are… us. When we become enslaved to our shame, that shame marks us, twists us into something else, and we allow the intrusive thoughts to win. Even if we resist going that far, our souls can still be consumed, taking our light away and leaving us in darkness. That sure sounds like depression, to me.

We see all of that through Ji-noo and his backstory. But more than that, we see that, as far gone as we might think we are, all is not lost. It just takes a little bit of hope, a moment of trust, and love. That’s when we can become our true selves once again. Even if only for a moment.

Okay, Brian, But How Do You Really Feel?

The stories I love telling involve the same themes I saw in this movie.

It hit just right. It wasn’t too heavy-handed. It gave us characters we can relate to and cheer for, painted in bright colors and beautiful music, and it masterfully delivered a good story with powerful themes.

It moved me.

I don’t cry very often. There are lots of times I want to cry, but I’m not entirely well, and I should probably talk to someone about that. Art, especially music, closes that gap and gives me access to my tears. Sometimes.

I’ve talked before about how Les Mis cracks me like a coconut, mostly because of two lyrics. They’re both towards the end, and the first is Fantine singing to Valjean: “Come with me where chains will never bind you.” Such a description of heaven breaks my heart, every time.

If that didn’t release my tears, then this lyric will: “To love another person is to see the face of God.”

There wasn’t anything in KPop Demon Hunters that hit me quite the same, and yet, I found myself tearing up throughout the movie. Maybe it’s because of how much I related to Rumi. Maybe I’ve just been going through it lately, and the music gave me permission to feel something. I don’t know.

I wish I’d watched this movie months ago. It’s very, very good. I’ll watch it again soon.

Loscon 51 ended about 6 days ago, so I’ve had most of a week to get back to my normal routine and process.

It was a good time! I’m glad I went, and I want to go again next year.

I feel like my energy was a bit off the whole weekend, though. I probably came across as awkward and distant, and there were a few reasons for that, some of which I’ll talk about in a moment. I had a good time, but if you hung out with me this weekend, I’m sure I was a bit off.

The convention was great, but the hotel sucked. I’ll talk about that in a moment, too.

Getting to LA was a breeze this year. Bryanna traveled with us, and we took the train, which meant train from Sacramento to Bakersfield, bus from Bakersfield down to Union Station in LA, and then Uber to the Hilton near LAX. The train was great! Melissa and I didn’t have a crazy person sitting with us, trying to start a fight with me. My family sat together, and we talked, read, or played on our phones. It was sublime.

I finished Building Baby Brother by Steven Radecki while on the train. I’ll post a review for that book soon®.

The train and the bus were fine, but that Uber trip was insane. I told people that we made it from Union Station to the LAX Hilton in 20 minutes, and people kept saying, “But that’s a 30 minute trip.” It may be a 30 minute trip for mere mortals, but our Uber driver does not drive by the same rules you or I may honor. They made their own lane when they had to. They blatantly, flagrantly, ran a red light. They got us to the hotel safe, which is all that should matter I suppose, but if I didn’t have gray hair before, the time in that man’s car would have done it.

Now let’s talk about the hotel. The Uber driver tried to scare me (and succeeded multiple times) but the hotel tried to kill me.

It begins with some basic inconveniences. Bryanna is nearly 30 years old, so I knew she should have her own room. That meant when I set up the reservation, I reserved 2 rooms. The convention ended on the 30th, though, and we were flying out on the 1st, so the hotel wouldn’t let me reserve for the entire time we were staying there. I had to set up 4 reservations, 2 for each room, and they took an eye-watering $300 deposit on each reservation.

Fortunately, they didn’t make us change rooms between the 30th and the 1st. They win a very small point there.

The first night, Melissa and I tried to sleep while the mini-fridge growled and churned all night. I described it to someone at the con and they said we didn’t have an appliance, we had a mimic. I would have unplugged it and been done with it, but Melissa is taking her newly diagnosed diabetes seriously, so we had things in the fridge that needed to stay cool.

Bleary eyed and choking down Tylenol to deal with my burgeoning headache, I went to the front desk and told them about the monster in our room. They sent someone to replace the fridge, and sure enough, it was silent as a grave. It also didn’t work, and all of the things Melissa needed to remain refrigerated were ruined by the next morning. Yuck.

Replacing the growling refrigerator for a dead one didn’t help our sleep situation, by the way. We removed the excessive sounds from within our room, but that didn’t stop the incessant banging coming from the walls. I think there was something going on with the water pipes, and anytime someone flushed a toilet or turned on their sink, we’d hear knocking.

Why do I think it was the plumbing? Because by the last night, water (we hope it was water) gushed up in the sink. It pushed out the stopper and flooded the counter. Black, ashen flecks soiled the bowl of the sink. The extra towels were soaked. A roll of toilet paper bloated on the shelf with waste water. The sink flood filled Melissa’s bathroom tote and ruined some of her stuff. Not ideal.

We flew back relatively early on Monday and I took the day to recover. It mostly worked, but I felt sluggish all week. I’m still behind on a lot of things, and I wonder if I’ll catch up before the year is out.

Those were a lot of words spent complaining about the accommodations, but I haven’t really talked much about the convention itself.

The first day, I helped set up the Water Dragon and Small Publishing in a Big Universe tables. I spent the whole time in the dealer’s room that day, and I helped drum up sales, making our first day this year much more profitable than our first day last year. If we kept up that kind of pace, it would have been a very good event for the publisher.

The next two days, I was booked for panels and interviews. It started with an autograph session, which was just some time for me to sit aside and relax. I think I sold and signed one book during that session. I met a couple of cool folks. It wasn’t a bad time at all.

After that, I participated on a couple of panels, and I interviewed people for the SPBU podcast’s “Live From Loscon 51” episode. Lots of fun, but it kept me away from the table the entire day. By the end of the weekend, the table did just a little bit more than break even. There just weren’t as many customers this year as there were last year.

One of the panels I attended on Saturday was not tightly moderated, so the panel went off the rails a bit. The panelists had a good time, and the people attending did as well, but we definitely veered off topic within the first 30 minutes and never returned.

The next day went much the same. I had interviews to start the day, then panels. I moderated the first, which was pretty heady. I’m not sure if this was the name or the description: “How Science Fiction themes of AI, near-future dystopias, and the intersection of technology and humanity affect plot lines.” Woof. But I came in prepared, and I think everyone had a good time with it. We wound up ending about 15 minutes early, and I didn’t drag it out unnecessarily.

The next panel I participated on was as fascinating as a train wreck. It was on post-scarcity, and we stayed on topic most of the time, but it was another one where the moderator let things get away from him, and by the end, the audience was talking more than the panelists. Brandon Case was on that panel with me, and we both kind of laughed our way through it.

I got to meet up with and hang out with some really cool people during the convention. Again, I felt a bit off. I was tired, often fighting a headache, and I had a hard time opening up.

Bryanna had a great time. It was a full vacation for her, and her first real con-going experience. I tried to spoil her as much as I could. I think she’ll be interested in attending more conventions in the future.

Melissa had a good time, but like me, came out of the experience tired. She’s got her blood sugar well under control, and she did great all weekend. I did my best to keep her from spending all her time at the table, because she shouldn’t stand for that long, and we really need to get her healthy.

There is one other thing that bothered me the whole weekend, which I don’t really want to talk about specifically. It’s dumb, and personal, and it didn’t need to be a thing.

I’ll put it this way. I, a frog, befriended a scorpion a long time ago. It was only a matter of time before he would sting me, and I should have remained vigilant in order to keep from getting hurt. But after enough time, I somehow became convinced that he was a different person than he is. When the sting finally came, I wasn’t ready for it.

It hurt in a way that it has affected my sleep. The noise in the hotel room wasn’t the only thing keeping me awake.

I’m not going to make it a big, public beef, even though he has earned it. I’ll just say the same thing I said in the last message I sent to him: I loved him unconditionally and was loyal to a fault. If he keeps throwing away people that truly love him, he will end up alone, and it will be well deserved.

With that said, we’re already a fifth of the way through December, and I have a lot of writing to do if I’m going to get The Psychic Out of Time finished for next year.

Wish me luck!

It’s Sunday, just before Thanksgiving and the start of the 51st Loscon!

Loscon is a science fiction and fantasy convention taking place in Los Angels, starting on Black Friday and going through to Sunday. This year, the theme is “Tell Me a Story” and the guests of honor are:

• Writer — Ursula Vernon/T. Kingfisher
• Arts — Benton Jew
• Music — Lynn Gold
• Fan — Tadao Tomomatsu

This will be the second year I’ve attended. Melissa and I had a really great time last year. This year, our daughter Bryanna will be joining us.

Here is my schedule:

Name	Date	Time	Location
Autograph Session	29 November	11:30AM – 12:45PM	Dealer’s Room
Sci-Fi Crime Stories	29 November	1:00PM – 2:15PM	Newport C
Time Travel	29 November	4:00PM – 5:15PM	Newport C
AI & Science Fiction (M)	30 November	11:30AM – 12:45PM	Newport A
The Post-Scarcity Society	30 November	1:00PM – 2:15PM	Carmel
Spirituality in SFF	30 November	2:30PM – 3:45PM	Catalina B

Like last year, we’ll be taking the train down, traveling during Thanksgiving. The train doesn’t go all the way to LA, so it’s bus from Bakersfield, then Uber to the hotel.

When I’m not on panels, I’ll be in the Dealer’s Room, attending the Water Dragon and Small Publishing in a Big Universe tables.

We fly back on December 1st, and hopefully I’ll be able to spend part of that Monday recovering at home.

If you’re in LA, stop by! The event is held at the Hilton Los Angeles Airport.