The road to Las Vegas KillerCon Convention was a strange one. It started just outside of my home town in a place that might’ve been a Twilight Zone episode called Willoughby. I took one wrong turn and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get out of this town and back on the road to Vegas. I ended up here-

Finally I found my way and stopped for gas somewhere in the middle of scary redneck Amerika and found this quaint little gas station where they sell car parts, children’s toys, rope, chains, and cleavers! I was standing next to a lady waiting for the bathroom and asked, “Are you seeing this?” She said, “Yes, you could do a lot of damage to someone with the things on this wall. Let’s get out of here quick.” Fortunately I was on the way to KillerCon so the weirdness was superseded and somewhat laughable by the anticipation of Vegas; it was like I was a character in my own novel. There’s no place like KillerCon, there’s no place like KillerCon, there’s no place like KillerCon.

I arrived in Las Vegas on Wednesday evening excited but exhausted; it was to be the running theme of the event. I had just enough time to get something to eat and sleep for about four hours before I had to wake up. My convention started with picking up people from the airport. This may have seemed like a total bummer to some, but to me it was a sheer pleasure to be of service. No rest for the wicked, it was time to party.

The party started with Sinister Grin Press in the Hospitality Suite and I drank way too many red bulls. It was a killer party but I was tired before I got to Vegas so I left early. I went to the gym to workout but I forgot about the red bulls so I didn’t workout long. I went to bed relatively early hoping to catch up on my sleep but the buzz of red bull, excitement and people wandering around in the hallways kept me awake; I got another four hours before I woke up too excited to sleep anymore.

Now it was friday. The opening ceremonies and the dealers room opened. This weekend was filled with so many great books and artists. I got an Edgar Allan Poe that Allen Koszowski did; what an amazing illustrator. I got to see old friends like Roy Robbins of Bad Moon Books and meet Jack Ketchum (and Dallas) for the first time! He is such an amazing writer and it was such a pleasure to know that the man behind the words is a very cool and kind person.

I also got to sit in on a panel called Writing Adaptations (Film to Novel/ Novel to Film) Jeff Mariotte, Jack Ketchum, Jonathan Maberry, William Nolan, David-Mathew Barnes-moderated by Richard Dean Starr. I’ve been learning a bit about the ways of Hollywood over the years but this was a really great panel that opened my eyes even more to the truth. I’m paraphrasing William F. Nolan who explained: “You write a book. Hollywood wants to make it into a movie. You ask to write the screenplay for the movie. They say no, you’re a horrible choice for the screenplay. You ask but why, I wrote the book! They say, exactly you’re too close to the material.” And that’s why the book is usually better.

I was running around quite a bit making sure things got done and people were happy but by the time 9pm rolled around I planned my own disappearing act. I rested in my hotel room with dinner and the season premier of Supernatural. I make no apologies for loving it; the show has amazing writers!

I have no idea how Friday night ended. It’s amazing how I can be completely sober and still not remember what happened. All I know is that Deadite Press threw a fantastic party in the Hospitality Suite, I drank a lot of red bull and there was pizza!!!! Saturday I was still really tired but I got to play a lot. I got to sit in on a panel called The Seven Deadly Sins of Writing Extreme Horror and then, while most were in the dealers room for the mass signing, I got to go to The Forensics Seminar and Blood Spatter Demo. Pat MacEwen taught me things that that most people would kill to know. Also I learned that most cop/forensic shows are pretty poor at getting the facts straight, except Dexter seems to be spot on! Yes!

I went into the dealers room to ask Jonathan Maberry and Jeff Mariotte something and then snuck into William F. Nolan’s reading of Coincidence in the anthology Like Water for Quarks-sorry I was late Bill. After that I got to catch Nate Southard’s reading and Jack Ketchum’s Q&A. He urged us to think about how we want our audience to feel at the end of a piece of prose. He said the two most important things in a story are the first sentence and the first paragraph. He also read portions from his book The Girl Next Door.

After that I had to run away for a while and eat dinner but later I got to sit in on a panel discussion called The Root of All Evil. I was late getting to it but I got to talk a bit about what it means as a reader, writer and human being in a land where everything is becoming impersonal. We talked about how book selling is becoming a lost art and many, like me  and Jonathan Maberry crave that individual recommendation from a person who knows us and our tastes in books versus the zombified version of a helping hand that electronic media might try to give us.

Well then I got suckered into The Creative Fiction Contest. Fifteen minutes, one guiding phrase, five words and go! My hands were shaking, my heart was racing. The judges were: Jonathan Maberry, Ray Garton, Jack Ketchum, Wrath James White, Wes Ochse, John Skipp and was Jeff Marriotte on this one?  I think I was literally going into shock I was so nervous. But, despite my fear I managed to write a story. I mean it sucked, and I forgot to include the guiding phrase but at least I did it. If I could write a story in fifteen minutes, read it to the literary illuminati how can I ever complain about deadline or have fear about showing my work to anyone ever again? Here’s what my paper looked like–

After that contest came the gross out contest-Pat MacEwen told true tales and got second place, the story about the lolly pop by Monica O’Rourke got third! Gross! But Shane McKenzie was the winner, winner chicken dinner. By the end of that, I was ready to party but went back to my room for a while. When I came back to the Cutting Block Press party, everyone was in full swing. And once again I got wasted on red bull. I knew I’d be leaving the next afternoon so I tried not to stay too long but I did party. So many kind and talented writers. I’m so honored to be a part of this family. It was a wonderful weekend and as I said before, you all have a piece of my bloody heart. It sucked to say goodbye but I’m so happy to be home. I’ve got lots of work to do and about a dozen fantastic books to read. I can’t wait until we all meet again.

Special thanks to Wrath James White, R.J Cavender, Bailey Hunter-you are all amazing and kind hearted despite some of the creepiest tales I have ever read (yes Wrath I’m talking about your writing) but I adore you three, and without you the convention would not have been born. Jonathan Maberry who spent a lot of time talking about the business of writing with me-this is one smart man! And very kind. All writers should pay it forward if not before, then definitely after talking with him. Jeff Mariotte who is a fantastic human being, and a wonderful writer who, I could go on and on about but won’t right now except to say that he gave me his copy of Jonathan Maberry’s new book Rot & Ruin and it made me smile. Christopher Boyle for always being himself. Tim Marquitz for the amazing friendship and his book Skulls. Laura, Mercedes, Rena, and Mason I didn’t get to spend enough time with you but thank you. Jason, Sunni, and Bill I love you. And everyone else, thank you! You all rocked my soul!