This was fun, though they sort of got the thing wrong.
It wasn’t about me.
It was about a whole bunch of new talented writers.

It was about scratch.

contributors, see their bios

We’ve only been around online since February of 2008 and debuted the annual anthology this past June.

be in the next one: scratchcontest.net

We had a really fun night, and pretty good crowd for a bunch of unknowns. We never expected to get rich or famous- I think I’m speaking for all the contributors, but the idea of small press journals of short fiction is to get your author publication credits, to get your name out there, to build a following and to pump up the solitary writer’s ego- at least a little bit.

Compared to this VERY big festival, I realized two things. More planning, emails, marketing, begging and wine is needed when selling a virtually unknown book.
We came up with a lot of great promotion ideas, fueled by Belgium beer and Margaritas and will kick some serious butt next year. Watch out Hotlanta!

Besides being there to promote scratch. I had fun talking some of my favorite writers and meeting some new ones, like Sara Gruen.

Michael Malone and Robert Olen Butler on a panel that was so hot, someone fainted.

Unlike prior festivals, this post will not be peppered with pictures of me with authors signing my books. Of course, I bought books, and of course went to panels and stood in line and got my books signed- some for my sister Patti’s Birthday gifts! But, I guess I’ve finally reached that Literary Groupie status where everyone who was there that I was interested in, I’d already met. Man, that sounds like I get around.

There was a little lull time on Sunday afternoon to take the Marta over to Dragon*Con.

There is never a dull moment there. From architecture that blew away a Brooklynite

to potent Margaritas served with the creatures of Alice in Wonderland. We had our glass elevator ride and shot some film

before hurrying back to the other side of town, where the lit set were winding down with a picnic.

A few days of this kind of living, and I was almost ready to go home. Almost.

Certainly could have done without the false fire alarm at the hotel after 3 bottles of wine and a very large Belgium beer… but the rest of it?

The rest of is something to write about, until next year that is.