WorldCon!

As I posted about a few weeks ago, I'm in WorldCon in Chicago right now. No real time to post or update the blog. I left my laptop at home, and posting on the iPad just isn't as much fun. I hope you have a wonderful weekend, and I'll see you all on Tuesday! (Unless you're here in Chicago, in which case, why not come by and say hello? My schedule's in that earlier post I just linked to.)

Movie Reviews: Sherlock Holmes and Barefoot in the Park

Two very different movies up for review today, and I honestly was crazy about either of them. First, the one most of you probably know and many of you have likely seen: Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows. I saw and really enjoyed the first one of these. I found the fresh take on Holmes to be fun (though nowhere nearly as good as the current BBC production of modern-day Holmes). So I had high hopes for this movie.

Hopes were not met.

It was still fun. Downey, Jr. keeps the character . . . sporadic. There are funny parts, and parts that are certainly unexpected now and then, but as far as the main plot goes, the only way it kept it unpredictable was by withholding information. When a key part of the climax rests on obscure information that we never had a clue existed . . . that's a bad thing. (And it makes me think that somewhere on a cutting room floor, there's a three hour version of this movie that might make more sense. But I really don't think this movie warrants three hours, which then makes me think that somebody should have revised the plot a fair bit before pressing the "Go" button on this one.)

I'll try to avoid spoilers, but I also really didn't appreciate the fact that they dispatched a certain character without so much as a "How do you do?" Of course, we see no body, so my bets are on the fact that the character could return for a sequel, but still . . . it was quite a blow of disrespect. Better to leave the character out entirely.

The last critique I'll give it is that somehow, by having a protagonist who's always one step ahead of the bad guys, and a villain who's always one step ahead of the good guys, you end up with a plot that's pretty much like the old hand game--the one where you put your right hand on top of the other person's hand, they top it with their other hand, you top it with your left hand, they top by slipping out their first hand, and you do the same with your right hand--on and on and on. Is Sherlock losing, or letting Moriarty think he's winning? And vice versa, ad infinitum. It didn't have the feel of cat and mouse so much as cat and cat, and not in a good way. Characters need flaws and limitations, and neither of these guys really had them in any meaningful way. Two and a half stars, but diverting at least.

Barefoot in the Park . . . I had high hopes for again. I'd heard of the movie. Robert Redford, Jane Fonda, based on a Neil Simon play. Should be great, right? But it was a movie that really failed to come together for me. It's about a newlywed couple who are just beginning to learn how to really live with each other. Fonda is an absolute spaz. Does every little thing that comes into her head. Redford is a stuffy young lawyer. And you really wonder what in the world these two people saw in each other to begin with. I think that's where the movie starts to come unglued for me. We're told by other characters how in love Fonda and Redford are, but I don't really see anything there to make me believe it. They lust after each other, sure. That makes sense. But more than that? You got me.

And Fonda is so much of a spaz. Her character drove me crazy the entire movie. She overreacts to everything, doesn't think at all of consequences, and is pretty much focused on herself the whole time. Yes, she gives lip service to wanting to make her husband happy, but she takes no real note of him or what he wants. Redford . . . looks like he has no clue how he got saddled with this woman, and I'm inclined to agree.

The plot is rambly, the music failed to impress me--and yet there are pieces of the movie that work extremely well. There's a run-on gag about how high up their apartment is that I really enjoyed. There are some lines that are just flat out great. But they're too few and far between, and it all fails to come together in the end. Two stars.

Third Grade--and Pre-K

It's that time of year again. The time when your Facebook feeds get crammed with the requisite "First Day of School" pictures. And who am I to scoff in the face of tradition? TRC headed off to third grade this morning, and DC is going to be going to full day Pre-K starting next week (twice per week).

DC is especially excited. She sat TRC off this morning, and she'll be riding a "real bus" and everything.

I talked to TRC some, asking him what he thought about third grade, and if he was worried at all about it, or bummed that summer vacation was over. "You don't get it, Dad," he said. "I actually kind of like school."

I get it more than he realizes--I remember feeling the same way.

Another cute aside--at my reading on Monday evening, TRC's favorite part was seeing his school librarian there in the audience. He also confided in me that "When you were talking this time, it was actually fun to listen to you. Even better than playing with Transformers."

High praise, indeed.

Anyway--life goes back to normal. Summer's over. For some reason, I always have an easier time going to work when my kids are going to school. Life seems much more fair. :-)

Here's another couple of pics of the kids, for good measure:

Library Visit Report--and Another Vodnik Giveaway!

(Sorry for the pic. Sometimes I just feel a bit like I'm shilling my book a little too heavily. I hope that's not the case.)

I went to the New Vineyard Public Library last night, and I was blown away by what an awesome crowd they had. Realize this is a town of about 600 people or so. The public library isn't exactly NYPL proportions. But I'm all for supporting the local libraries, and I was excited for the visit, no matter how many people showed up.

I got there and the parking lot was full, and so was the room. Standing room only, pretty much. (Unless you wanted to get really snug with your neighbor.) It was a great group. with ages ranging from teens to . . . much older. (I didn't ask for ages.) Tons of questions after I read the first chapter of Vodnik, and I'd brought a box of books (thinking it never hurts to be prepared, but not realistically believing I'd actually sell any) and came home with only three (books, not boxes). Really, it was just a fantastic experience, and I'm very grateful to the library for having me out.

(And remember--if you'd like me to visit or "visit" (via Skype) your library or school, let me know!)

In other news, Readnowsleeplater is running a giveaway, courtesy of Goodreads. So if you're interested in winning a free copy of Vodnik, head on over and enter. (You can also enter via the link in the widget on the right side of my blog.) It closes on September 15th. Tell all your friends! It's open to people in the US, Canada, Great Britain, and Australia. Shiny!

When Memory Deceives: Vodnik Chapter Eighteen

This was a chapter that I wrote fairly early on in the first draft. I can't remember exactly why now. Typically when I write, I do so chronologically. I start at the beginning and then keep writing until I'm at the end. For some reason (maybe I was stuck at an earlier plot point), I jumped ahead to get this scene down. It might be that I just thought it would be an easy scene to write. Tomas going down the well.

I'd found out that they cleaned out the well regularly from my brother-in-law, and as soon as I heard that, I knew it would be a logical place for Tomas to go looking for vodniks. (The other main part of the chapter--the last water vision of Lesana--was also a bit of tee-ball, creatively speaking. It's a real legend from Trencin. (At least . . . I thought it was. I had a website from Trencin where I came across it, but that website has disappeared on me, now that I tried to link to it. Bother. Anyway. I made changes to what I'd read about, in any case.)

So I summoned up everything I remembered about the Well of Love and wrote the chapter. Here's a pic of the well, for reference.

I had pics of the well, I'd been there numerous times--it was all straightforward. I was very happy with how the chapter turned out. The tension that builds as Tomas gets closer and closer to going down the well, the actual experience of descending, and then seeing the Vodnik at the bottom.

Then I went to Slovakia in the final drafting stages of the book, and I discovered . . . the well isn't round. Not inside, at any rate. It's square. (And it's not nearly as wet and slimy around the side as I'd remembered.) This made no sense at all. I remembered the well being round inside. Not like it was a huge pain to fix, but it was a shocking experience to me. (Sort of like being sure there was a web page that listed the legend of Lesana, then going to that web page and finding no mention of it.)

This was something that happened quite a few times on that trip, actually. I found fountains had moved in my memory. Memorials had shifted. Scenery had changed. Bridges had gotten taller. Drives had gotten shorter (or longer). Not that they really had, of course--but my iron-clad memory of all of these things turned out to be cardboard-clad.

Which makes sense, in a way. Through all the drafts for this book, I've now spent much more time in Trencin in my imagination than I've spent there in person. By the time you're on your fifth or sixth draft of a scene, that scene is pretty set in your mind. Most other fantasy authors don't have the chance to then visit the site of that scene in person and discover how much has changed from what you'd imagined. (I read this article in Wired the other month, about how fragile our memories really are. Absolutely fascinating read, which explains what happened to me perfectly, and will make you doubt your memory more than ever. Mind. Blown.)

That said, it's still a lot of fun to be able to go to Trencin and see all the places I'd written about. In many ways, the memories I have of being there are about the same as the experiences I had Tomas undergo in the book, in my mind. I can look at the town square and "remember" Tomas and his father waiting there until it was dusk, so they could break into the electronics store, just as much as I can remember being there with my son while he scared pigeons.

This is all just to say that memory is a strange beast. But then again, I suppose we all knew that anyway.

Movie Review: The Artist

It took me long enough, but I finally got around to watching The Artist--this year's winner of Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actor, and a whole slew of other awards. I'd intended to see it for a long time, but it didn't all come together until this week.

It's a fine movie. A good movie, even. Three stars out of four. Best picture of the year? Not in my book. Of the other nominees that I've seen so far, The Artist is beaten by Moneyball and The Help, and it's slaughtered by Midnight in Paris. It might duke it out with War Horse some and eventually emerge victorious, but winning the whole thing?

It mainly doesn't work for me at that level because the whole film feels like a gimmick. In Mel Brooks's Silent Movie, that's fine--because it is a gimmick. In this film? It felt like they were trying to make art with one arm tied behind their back. Put false constraints on themselves in some kind of "I wonder if we can make a great movie without sound" sort of way.

This is most noticeable in the first third of the movie. It took a long time for me to really fully engage with the characters, and by the time I started caring, they had a lot of ground to make up. Don't get me wrong--it's well acted, and for what it is, it's certainly well directed. But if you take the gimmick away, you don't have the level of movie that people were claiming this was.

You've got a three star movie. I don't give bonus points for gimmicks, just like I wouldn't expect someone to review one of my books higher because I successfully managed to avoid using the letter "v" for the entire novel. (The Artist wasn't helped by the fact that it's essentially going up against Singing in the Rain in terms of subject matter, and that movie just can't be beat.)

Finally, I think what held the movie back from achieving its full potential was the fact that it never really knew what it wanted to be. It dabbled a bit in comedy, sauntered over to drama for a while, meandered into romance, and then drunkenly wove its way to a sort of bildungsroman fusion of I-don't-know-what. Like the main character, you certainly couldn't accuse the movie of not thinking too much of itself.

Did I enjoy it? Somewhat. It got better, like I said. But it wasn't a wholly pleasurable experience, and so maybe me giving it three stars is already me giving it some bonus points for the gimmick. (Curses!) I found myself wanting to check my email several times in the film, and I wasn't even expecting any important emails, if that says anything.

If you want to check the movie out for the gimmick, go for it. If you want to watch an awesome film, rewatch Midnight in Paris, instead.

Come on Out and See Me at the Library

This coming Monday (the 27th), I'll be heading over to the New Vineyard Public Library here in Maine to visit their book group. (You can also check out their Facebook page.) What can you expect, if you come? The chance to hear me read--audience's choice! Something from Vodnik or Tarnhelm. I'd put out Get Cupid as an option, but I'm not really sure people want to hear some of a first draft.

I'll also be answering any questions people might have and--the real reason to go--refreshments will be served. For many many years, I had a strict DTDFF policy. (Don't Turn Down Free Food.) I still try to follow the spirit of that policy, even if there have been times when I've been forced to not magically appear wherever food is presented for free. (Although if there were such a thing as a Bryce Summoning Spell, it would likely involve ice cream, brownies, dark chocolate, or all of the above, placed on a buffet table. Hot fudge is optional. Do all this, and send me an email about said buffet table, and I'm likely to appear just about anywhere (within driving distance, at least).

I'd actually like to be doing some more library or school visits. In person is always great (especially with food), but I'm perfectly willing to "attend" via Skype. I have a web cam and a mic--there's no need to bribe me with consumables. I've really enjoyed the visits I've done so far--both in person and on Skype. So if you know of a library or a school class that would be interested in hearing from me, just drop me a line.

In the meantime, come by this Monday and say hello. Rumor has it there will even be prizes . . .

August 27th, 6:30pm at the New Vineyard Public Library

I Don't Want to Be Your Friend: CD Review

Yeah. I know. A CD review? When's the last time I did one of those? (Answer: never.) However, I just bought my first CD in a very long time, and I listened to it with the fam on the whole drive home to Maine yesterday. (That's a lot of drive, in case you were wondering.) And when you get your paws on something you like, you pay it forward. Share the love.

Even if the love is called "I Don't Want to Be Your Friend."

First off, you need to know a bit about me and my musical tastes. I'm pretty eclectic, when you get right down to it. I like things that are different. Quirky. And Neon and Shy's CD features songs played on the accordion, tuba, and toy piano. Ya don't get much quirkier than that. However, there's such a thing as too quirky (or so I've been told), and I'm thinking some of you are wondering right now if accordion/tuba/toy piano CDs cross that line.

No, my friends. It doesn't.

The album is just flat out fun to listen to. I'd heard some of the songs before, but after listening to the whole thing several times, let me pick out a few of my favorites:

• The Dairyland Trilogy--This is something I never "got" until I listened to the album. Neon and Shy's been talking about Dairyland for a long time. Extolling its virtues. Mourning its departure. From what I'd gathered, it was an ice cream place somewhere in Philadelphia, and it was popular with accordion players. So popular that songs were written in its honor. And then, tragically, in its memory. I wasn't prepared to see just how much an ice cream place could mean to a man. The first song (O Dairyland) is a hymn to the store. It was recorded in the store, and you can hear all the store's patrons singing along. In the second (Dairyland So Sweet), we hear all about the store's move, and how great it is. It's peppy, fun, and extremely catchy. In the final song (Nothing Ties Me Anymore to Main Street), we hear of the store's passing. This last song is one of the best ones on the album. It's contemplative, it's got great lyrics and a wonderful melody, and I find myself laughing and feeling sad at the same time. I never thought a song about an ice cream store could be so moving, and I mean that sincerely.
• Geriatric Grave Robbers--This is a song that took me a bit to get used to. It's discordant, and kind of disturbing. Based on a single quote overheard in the park, "The whole thing is getting the skull size big enough for the brain to expand." I just didn't "get it." Then TRC and DC listened to it, and they just love the song. I can't wait for the next baby sitter to come over and hear TRC mumbling to himself, "The whole thing is getting the skull size big enough for the brain to expand."
• Wedding Day--Synth, moody, with great lyrics and a fantastic duet at the end. This is another song that I find myself singing in my head, days after I last listened to it. I've always been a fan of synth (I grew up in the 80s, after all), and this captures that blend of quirky and accessible I really like.
• Ladies--I'd really like to see George Costanza singing this one in a musical Seinfeld episode. In the meantime, I'm perfectly happy to hear it on accordion. An autobiographical song about all the singer's ex-girlfriends, and how they've all switched sides, so to speak. It's really funny, and very catchy. If the CD had a single that would be released for a wide audience, this would likely be it.

I don't want to give away the whole thing. The entire album is available to purchase (or listen to in its entirety) right here. Full disclosure: I'm not just a fan of Neon and Shy, I'm a friend, too. I've known him since high school, but anyone who knows me also knows I wouldn't just plug someone because we were friends. My musical reputation's on the line here, folks. I stand by this one. It's a great album, and I'm really happy to have my own copy. Give it a shot, and pass it on. It's just as hard to get noticed in the music scene as it is to get seen in the publishing industry. As always, word of mouth is king. So if you hear/read/see something you like--make sure to tell other people about it.

Off to Sesame Place

Denisa and I went with the kids (and their cousins and other extended family) to Sesame Place on Friday. They'd been before, but it's been a few years. The park's a lot of fun, though it was crowded (which makes sense, it being a sunny summer day and all that).

The first ride we went on was the Vapor Trail--a small steel roller coaster that DC looked intimidated by. TRC really wanted to go on it, though, so we convinced DC that she wanted to go to. (She didn't need that much convincing--all her cousins were going on it, and it's surprising how much influence that has on a little girl.) Still, I wondered what she'd think about it. Getting in line is one thing, standing in line for thirty minutes, watching the roller coaster is another. (No real steep drops--it's more of a twisty turny ride.) Still, she got on with no complaining.

And loved it.

Her smile was a mile wide the whole time, and she wanted to go on it again right after. It looks like we have a little daredevil on our hands. There wasn't a ride she wouldn't go on. She might only be four, but she's very tall for her age--tall enough to go on any ride in the park by herself. And she did. It was fun to see how much she enjoyed them all, even the ones I thought she'd be scared of.

We went from the Vapor Trail over to the Count's Fount--a gigantic splash zone with a huge bucket that dumps water on everybody every five minutes or so. It . . . wasn't as much fun. We waited in line for one of the small water slides. The thing is, they have all these water fountains set up to spray everywhere. It was a slow line, and for most of it, I was getting sprayed right in the face with water. Not exactly enjoyable. TRC didn't like it one bit. Enough that he was then convinced he didn't like water slides at all.

It took some coaxing, but he eventually changed his mind, and we went on many fun water slides together. (Having cousins going on the slides helped, once again.)

We all ate lunch with the characters (Cookie Monster, Count, Abby, Big Bird, and Elmo). The kids really enjoyed that. (Though I think they might have enjoyed the all you can eat ice cream even more). The only drawback to the day was all the lines. No one got sun burned, and there were only a few bouts of crying here and there.

One of the biggest pluses for me this time was that I didn't have to go on the giant nets. The park has this huge net area, where kids can go and climb all over the place. Last time, I went with TRC, because he was too small to really think he'd be okay in there on his own. It was one of the least enjoyable experiences I've ever had. The nets cut into my skin, it was small and cramped (have I mentioned I'm slightly claustrophobic?) and it was impossible to keep up with him. This time? I sat on the ground and waved. Much easier.

I'll leave off with a pic of TRC, DC, and their cousins. Sorry about the streakiness. It was a tad humid, and I'd just wiped the lens of my iPad.

Rasputins and Kung Fu Fighting: Vodnik Chapter Seventeen

Well, maybe not kung fu fighting exactly, but it sounded snappier. Two main pieces to this chapter--one of them came into the book in the first or second draft, the other didn't show up until almost the end.

I found out that Tomas was immune to fire and water about the same time Tomas did in the book. As I recall, the idea came to me in the shower (where most of my ideas come from, if I'm being honest). I'd known Tomas had been injured in the burning/drowning incident when he was little, of course. But then I started wondering what sort of an effect that incident had on him. It was magical--could it have had some ramifications? What would they be like?

I didn't find out exactly what they were until I was writing this chapter. The story of Rasputin came to mind, and everything clicked all at once--the name, the abilities. Everything. I love it when that happens. It makes everything so much tidier.

Of course, the name--as proud as I was of it--wasn't an exact fit. It's a piece of Russian history, not Slovak, and while we Americans may just sort of jumble all of those stories together into one big "Eastern European" category, believe you me when I say that Slovaks do not. When Denisa read the story over in its draft form, this was one of the spots she really wanted changed. The name of the ability. It didn't make any sense to her, to have it named after Rasputin.

And I tried. Really, I did. I tried using various Slovak words, but none of them had the same ring. I tried other combinations of English. (I have notes . . . somewhere.) But nothing really worked and felt as cool to me as Rasputin, so in the end I just went with that. (Sorry, Denisa.) (Side note--Slovaks do *not* like Russians. It all comes from being forced to do a whole bunch of Communist things for so long. Denisa has story about all of them, from having to participate in Communist parades to taking field trips out to Communist memorials. Add to that the persistent fear the populace had of being turned over to the secret police. and . . . that sort of bad memory just doesn't poof away when Communism falls. Enough that Denisa also recommended against naming Tomas's cousin Katarina. It's got a very Russian feel to it, and she didn't think any Slovak at the time Katka was born would have named her Katka. But I really liked the name . . .)

In any case, the Rasputin ability is one of my favorites from the book, and I'm still very pleased with how it turned out, even if I couldn't get the name exactly right. We see a bit of it in action later in the novel, but I've got these ideas of how much it could be used in a sequel . . .

The second point--the element that came in the final draft--is the fighting technique Lubos shows to Tomas. Once the Bigot Gang started being so physically abusive, I needed Tomas to be able to fight back. My first instinct was to have Lubos start straight with sword fighting techniques, but there were some speed bumps with that. First off, it wasn't like Tomas could just start sporting a sword around town. Roma, armed and dangerous? Not going to fly. And even if it could, I didn't really want him dealing with the fallout (emotional and legal) that would happen if he ended up killing a kid in the book. This isn't that kind of novel.

So sword fighting was out.

I talked to my brother-in-law, and we discussed various approaches Tomas might learn. I wanted him to dive straight into real fighting, Karate-Kid style. But my brother in law assured me that the first thing to learn would be how to fall the right way. So . . . that's what I went with. I tried to keep the training sequences as realistic as I could. Tomas doesn't have any special abilities that let him learn how to fight more easily. He has to go the normal route. (And I think it's important--in a fantasy novel--to keep as much "normal" in the book as you can. You can't go running to magic every time you need a solution to something.)

I've always loved training sequences in movies and books--seeing how a character goes from a novice to a full-fledged expert. Of course, having seen a fair number, I've got very strict ideas about how they need to roll out. It really bugs me when a character has two or three lessons, and suddenly they're an expert. I wanted to avoid that in this novel. Even by the end, Tomas isn't particularly good at fighting. Just good enough to surprise bullies who are expecting an easy target. (Give Tomas a few more months  or years of lessons, though . . . )

Still, it was fun writing these training sequences, and I was happy for the opportunity to do it. I think they turned out well, and fit the book.

Night Market Philly

A week or two ago, my friend Neon and Shy (aka Tubadan, aka Dan--because unless you have at least two aliases, you ain't cool) post about a cool street vendor festival that was going to be happening down in Philly, asking who all wanted to go. I read the post with envy, since (as much as I love the nook of Maine I call home) every now and then I wish there were more cool things to do where I live. Or maybe just more cool things to eat. In any case, I reread the post, and then realized that I was actually going to be down in the area at that time. I could go!

So Denisa and I did. Last night. We'd thought about taking the kids, but they ended up staying with their cousins, instead. Probably for the best. Not that it wasn't safe, but I had no idea how many people would show up.

Tons of people. Oodles of people.

Night Market Philly was the name of the game. Probably fifty or so food trucks lined up on the road, representing all sorts of cuisines. Yeah, you had your Italian, your Mexican, your Indian, your . . . vegetarian hoagies? Trinidadian? Korean Tacos? There were lots and lots of choices to be had, that's for sure.

I had gourmet pizza, Indian wraps, spicy taco with pineapple, frozen lemonade, gelato, creme brulee, and a macaroon. It was taste-a-rific.

Did it make me decide to move to the city? No. I think that at heart, I really am more of a country person. I don't like throngs of people. They make me uncomfortable. It's fun to have something different now and then, but I really like being able to go back to my little corner of the world where there's only 5,000 people in town. The city isn't going anywhere, and I'd rather the baseline be quiet and peaceful (and yes, sometimes boring) than non-stop excitement.

Anyway--thanks, Neon, for letting us tag along. 'Twas an awesome night.

And now, I'm off to Sesame Place with the kidlets. Wish me luck. :-)

My First Podcast--Win a Copy of Vodnik!

Last week, I had the chance to take part in my first podcast interview. I know--auspicious occasion, right? I've never done a podcast, period. And I suppose I still haven't. I've just talked into a phone and had someone else take care of the rest. Go check it out--a half hour of me talking. It's over at readnowsleeplater.com.

It was a strange experience, all told. I tend to ramble when I talk, and it gets worse when I know that I'm not supposed to ramble. So I'd be answering the questions, then start thinking about how I was supposed to stay focused, and that would distract me from what I was talking about, which would make me ramble more. A vicious cycle.

Alethea (the interviewer) was nice enough to email the questions ahead of time, which helped a lot. I had time to write down some ideas of what I'd say. I was also happy to see that she'd asked me questions I hadn't gotten before. Not that I've had a ton of experience with interviews (written, at least), but even in the small experience I've had, I've noticed that it's easy to start feeling like you're rehashing your answers all the time. (I don't recycle my old answers for a new interview--I write them fresh each time. But sometimes I forget what I've already said and where.) Not so in this interview.

Also, they're doing a giveaway for Vodnik that runs with the podcast. So if you'd like to win a copy, head over to the podcast, scroll to the bottom, and find out how to enter.

http://www.readnowsleeplater.com/2012/08/interview-with-author-bryce-moore.html

Oh--and I think it goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway. If any of you (you meaning, the entire world) would like to do an interview with me (podcast, written, guest blog post on a topic of your choice, or a topic of my choice, etc.), you have but to say the word. :-)

Rocksmith Bass DLC Review

It's been a while since I raved about it, but I've still been playing Rocksmith steadily. (Honestly, the biggest problem I have with the game is that when I'm playing it, I don't want to stop. It has a tendency to eat up all my time. I still just adore it.) If you weren't aware, yesterday they released a huge update to the game--for $30, you can add bass to your options for everything. New challenges, new versions of all the songs--everything. You can use a guitar to emulate a bass, or (if you own a bass, like I do) you can hook up your bass to the game.

Since I'd been feeling somewhat guilty that my electric guitar was seeing all the action for the past 8 months, leaving my bass to gather dust, I jumped at the opportunity, slapped $30 down, and dove right in last night.

What did I think?

Well, I got blisters on three of my fingers from all the playing yesterday. I didn't pack for my trip like I was supposed to--and I had an awesome time. :-)

Of course, I've always been kind of a bass guy. Bassoon in high school--and bari sax. I love me some bass parts. Rocksmith fills that itch tremendously well. I also discovered that I've gotten tons better at bass in the time since I've been playing Rocksmith. Some of the parts are just plain easier--I was sight reading songs and scoring 115,000 points or more on my first time through. I got double encores with ease. It was really nice to see how far I've come, since when I got Rocksmith back at Christmas, I had to really struggle just to make it through the basic version of "Satisfaction".

Without doubt, Rocksmith has turned me in from a guy who dabbles on the guitar into a guy who can actually play the guitar. I'm by no means a pro yet--I'd still classify me in the novice stage, although maybe I'm getting close to moving up to intermediate. For example, I can play most of "Sunshine of Your Love," but I get lost in the solo still. (Lots of bends.) But when I first got the game, all I could do on the guitar was strum chords--slowly. The game has been a huge boost to my playing skills, and it's hands down the most fun way I've seen of learning the guitar.

I tried out some of the more complex songs, and I'm happy to say that the bass parts are well done in them, too. It's not all just quarter notes, if you know what I mean.

Now I just need to get an extra cable, so I can hook up the guitar and the bass at the same time, and either rope Denisa into playing with me some (she took guitar along with me back in college) or getting TRC in on the action. (Probably in a year or two)

In short, if you've already bought Rocksmith and want to have more fun with the game, you need to buy this downloadable pack. I can't vouch for the guitar emulator, but I know I'm going to be playing both guitar and bass for a long time to come.

Into the Woods is One of the Best Musicals of All Time

You heard me. I don't know if Into the Woods is the best musical of all time--I don't like to get into debates like that--but I have to say that as far as accessibility, entertainment, layered meaning, musical score--all those things go, Into the Woods ranks right up there with the best of them. The fact that it got aced out by Phantom for the Tony for Best Musical in 1988 is just ridiculous. Don't get me wrong. Phantom of the Opera is all fine and good, but let's face it. If there were a musical cage match with Sondheim in one corner, and Weber in the other, Sondheim would take about 3 seconds before he smashed a chair over Weber's head. (I would pay money to see this.)

Denisa and the kids and I watched this Sunday evening, and I was again reminded of just how great this musical is. Some of it is that I've got some sentimental attachment to it, obviously. It was the first musical I ever saw on Broadway, and I saw it in its original run back in '88, with Bernadette Peters and the gang. It was fantastic then, and I'm really happy that version was filmed so I could rewatch it whenever I want to these days. (And it's on Netflix Instantwatch right now? Awesomeness!)

But when I was nine watching it live, it was a fun and funny musical that mashed all sorts of fairy tales together in a bunch of exciting ways. TRC and DC thought the same thing when we were watching it the other night. They enjoyed it (although at 2.5 hours, it was a bit long for them--was I that squirmy when I was eight?)

Watching it now as a parent, I saw all sorts of other subtexts that completely passed over my head when I was nine. It's a really adult musical, but it works perfectly well on both levels.

Then again, I realize that I'm not necessarily the end all be all critic when it comes to musicals. I've seen my fair share, but that share is by no means exhaustive. So my question to you, O readers, would be what your top five musicals would be. Only stage musicals. No film versions, though I realizes this trims down the candidates by quite a bit.

For me personally? (Emphasis on the personal) In no order:

• Into the Woods
• Les Mis
• Sweeney Todd

After those three, you get into a lot of tie breakers in my book. Maybe I'm forgetting some. I'm sure some of you will correct me.

What are my requirements for a musical? It's got to have a great story. It's got to have great music. The production I saw of it has to be fantastic. Characters high up there. I don't know--the same requirements I have for a great anything, I guess.

What do you think?

The Birth of Death in the Modern Day: Vodnik Chapter Sixteen

Ah, Death in the Modern Day at last. The appearance of Death's handy guide to killing in Vodnik came as a surprise to me. I hadn't started writing the book with a plan for it to ever come into play. I didn't even know it existed. So why did it appear?

For a couple of reasons. First off, Tomas and Katka were dealing with things they had absolutely no idea how to really handle. In the original draft, Katka and Tomas consult a whole bunch of different fairy tale books looking for ideas--that's all they could think of to do. So I had them go to a library to look for more information. Once there, Tomas comes across a reference to a book that's held in a branch he doesn't recognize. He asks the librarian about it, and she has no clue what he's talking about.

Long story short, there's a magical library beneath the city center, and Tomas has to find a way in to get the book. And then he has to deal with a dwarf librarian (who has his beard in a bun) . . . As I recall, that's about as far as I took that storyline. I was having to make too much new material up, just so that I could get Tomas in contact with a book that would help him.

So I just had him get the book ex nihilo.

Which of course meant I had to figure out where that book had come from, but that led to other, better answers.

Once I'd decided that what he got was the handbook for death, I had to decide what exactly the handbook for death looked like. One of my favorite musicals is "How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying." If you haven't seen it (and you should--I love the Robert Morse version), it's about a window washer who comes across a copy of a book that teaches him how to . . . do what the title of the musical says. The books is authoritative and direct, with a simple tone that implies any nincompoop could handle what it's saying. (And wouldn't you know it? The musical turns out to be based on an actual book--I love research! Just found that out.)

I wanted to capture that feeling, but contrast it with a book that's so convoluted and hard to understand that the tone just becomes infuriating to a new reader. I actually rewatched the musical a few times to get the feel down, and I'd rewatch it whenever I started to lose it. The opening paragraph of DitMD is very much a direct parody of the opening paragraph of HtSiBwRT, but the two books obviously diverge a lot from there.

Another interesting (to me) note: the illustrations of the reaper dude in the book were very much a last minute addition. As Isaac Stewart was designing the book, he came up with the idea to have a little critter as the mascot (so to speak) of the novel. He put the reaper dude in at the front of each chapter and on the t-shirt of Tomas on the cover.

This was a great idea, but I had one problem with it: the reaper guy was nowhere in the novel, so it felt forced to me. However, because I liked the idea, I came up with a simple solution: write him in. And he  was a perfect fit for the illustrations in DitMD (which originally had no illustrations). Win win.

In the end, I'm very pleased with how the book within a book turned out, and it's been fun to see how many people have really liked it, too. It went from being a simple plot device to being one of the main elements of the novel (especially once quotes from it were incorporated as chapter bumps for each chapter).

(This is also one of the reasons why I try to never compare my first drafts of a new book with the last drafts of a book I just completed. So much gets added in during the revision process--at least the way I write. Comparing one to another is like comparing a lump of clay to a finished pot. You just can't do it.)

NOTE--The Karate Kid image at the top was for a piece of medieval fighting I was going to discuss in this chapter's commentary, as well. I ran out of time and space, though. Sorry for getting your hopes up . . . )

WorldCon Panels--Come See Me in Chicago!

At the end of this month, I'll be trekking out to Worldcon in Chicago. What is Worldcon? The World Science Fiction Convention. Tons of sci-fi/fantasy fans from all walks of life. Movies, television, writing--you name it. It's not quite at the Comic Con level, but it's up there.

I've been to it once before, when it was in LA a few years ago. (Has it really been six years? I think it might have . . . ) Back then, I carpooled out from Utah in a caravan. My car had Brandon Sanderson, Dan Wells, Janci Patterson, and . . . Isaac Stewart? (If that's the case, the car at the time had a 1 in 5 record for published authors. It's now at a 5 for 5 stat, which is pretty darned encouraging, if I do say so myself. It's great to take a step back and think about where we all were back then and where we are now. Dan was talking about a serial killer book on the ride down, as I recall. Brandon just had Mistborn books coming out. What a difference six years can make.)

In any event, this time, I won't be carpooling. I'm flying. And where last time I was just trying to make some connections to get an "in" in publishing, this time I'm looking forward to being on some panels, eating with friends, and doing my best not to have Myke Cole snore me to death. (He's been threatening. I'm loading up on ear plugs before I go, though.) I'll be catching a Cubs game, even.

But wait--did you see that bit about being on panels? That's right! I'm presenting on three, actually. Which is two more than I thought I'd hoped to be on. So that's exciting. If you're going to be in Chicago on Labor Day weekend and would like to see me, here's my schedule:

Fri Aug 31 9:00:am	Fri Aug 31 10:30:am	Acquiring an Agent
Columbus KL		Aspiring authors talk about landing an agent for their manuscript.
Bryce Moore Courtney Schafer J. Kathleen Cheney Joshua Bilmes R.T. Kaelin

Fri Aug 31 1:30:pm	Fri Aug 31 3:00:pm	Young Adult Trends
McCormick		A look at the various current trends in the Young Adult book market, from the dystopias to paranormal romance.
Aurora Celeste Bryce Moore Emily Jiang Gwenda Bond Leigh Bardugo

Sun Sep 2 10:30:am	Sun Sep 2 12:00:pm	SF in Libraries Focus on Schools
Comiskey		Science fiction is an area of increasing interest and activity for library collections. Discover what types of materials are being collected, how they are being used, and how they are exposing a new generation to science fiction.
Bryce Moore Greg Prickman James Bryant Maurine Starkey Peadar O Guilin

Sun Sep 2 12:30:pm	Sun Sep 2 1:00:pm	Reading: Bryce Moore
Dusable
Bryce Moore

I'm excited for all of them. Joshua (my agent) is (fittingly) on the panel with me that's about acquiring an agent. He's absolutely terrific, and chock full of wisdom when it comes to the industry. I'll be moderating the other two in addition to presenting. The reading? I'm kind of not sure how that will go . . . Let's keep it real here. People aren't coming to Chicago to find out what the next Bryce Moore books is going to be about. But I'll try to read some from VODNIK or TARNHELM or even GET CUPID (tentative title of my YA Ocean's Eleven book), depending on who's in the audience (assuming anyone's in the audience.)

Anyway--I'm really looking forward to the experience. Any of you out there planning on going? Let me know!

Dueling, Rope Climbing, and Sailor Swimming: Crazy Olympic Sports from Days of Yore

So there I am, perusing the Olympics, and what do I see? Some girl dancing with bowling balls. I'm not making this up. She had two balls, and she was dancing with them. She followed this up by dancing with a hula hoop. That's when I had to hit Google. What was this woman doing, and why in the world was it considered an Olympic sport? I mean, I think I'd be disappointed if I were at a basketball game and she came on as the halftime show, even.

Just keeping it real here, folks.

And as half of you are no doubt telling your computer screen even as you read this, she was doing Rhythmic Gymnastics, and I really shouldn't knock it just because the one I happened to catch wasn't particularly good. I mean, check this girl out:

Yeah. That's pretty darn awesome, I think. And it got me--librarian that I am--curious. What other strange Olympic events are out there? What odd ones have their been throughout the history of the modern Olympics?

There have been some doozies, people. And I'm not just talking about the ribbon dancing that's also part of rhythmic gymnastics. No--to get to the really funky stuff, you gotta dig a bit. And I have. And so without further ado, I present to you my list of crazy sports that were actually, literally, Olympic medal-winning contests in the past hundred years or so. (There were so many that I had to ignore demonstration sports to keep things under control. Otherwise, I would have had to talk about ski ballet, skijoring (dog racing on skis), ballooning, and surf lifesaving. But because I love you--and couldn't resist--here's some ski ballet for you. I want this guy's hair. Why was this not a medal sport when some of the others were? You got me.)



Anyway. Back to the real events.

• Croquet--That's right. Back in 1900 in Paris, there were three croquet events. Single ball, doubles, and double ball. Ten athletes competed. Nine of them were French. The French swept every single medal. And you wonder why croquet didn't make another appearance. Then again, before we Americans decide to get hoity toity about it, let me point out that in 1904 in St. Louis, croquet was replaced by roque, the American variant of croquet, apparently. (Who knew?) Four players competed--all of them American. America swept the medals.
• Tug of War--This actually had a long, storied history at the Olympics, being played from 1900-1920. 6 Olympics in a row. Team sport--no individual competitions. Men's Tug of War, people. Just think how awesome that would be.
• Dueling Pistol--1912. Shooting at targets dressed in frock coats, from what I've gathered. Bull's Eye on the target's throat. Pure awesome.
• Rope Climbing--Held in four Olympics during the span of 1896-1932, it consisted of timed rope climbing. Climb the rope, ring the bell. The world record for the 20' climb was 2.8 seconds, in case you were wondering.
• Club Swinging--One man. Two clubs. Swinging them around. If this involved ninjas, this could be epic. Unfortunately, to the best of my research, it does not involve ninjas.
• Underwater Swimming--1900. Competitors got points for the amount of time they were underwater, and the distance they had swum. It apparently wasn't a very good spectator sport at the time, so got dropped.
• Men's Sailor Swimming--Perhaps the best example of exclusionary sports, this one had a strange entry requirement. Only members of the Greek Royal Navy could compete. In 1896. In Greece. Eleven men entered, but only three actually swam.

There have been other sports. Less outlandish, perhaps. Golf. Polo. Cricket. But I guess next time I see a woman and her bowling balls making beautiful art on a gym floor, I should just keep my mouth shut. Also, maybe my dream--that sports like competitive eating, or pizza dough tossing, or arm wrestling will one day become Olympic events--isn't too far off, after all.

A Brief Travel Guide to Western Slovakia

Sorry about the late post today. I was waiting for the second half of a guest post I wrote to get published. What guest post, you ask? Well, let me tell you.

My publisher (Tu Books) asked me to write a brief travel guide to Slovakia a few weeks ago. I was more than happy to comply, although there was too much material to cover in a brief post. I mean, this is Slovakia here. A paragraph or two wasn't going to cut it.

So it turned into a two parter, and I restricted it to just Western Slovakia. Check it out here:

• Part One--Castles
• Part Two--Everything Else

And really--if you haven't been to Slovakia, you're totally missing out. I've been to France, England, Germany, Austria, Ireland, the Czech Republic--Slovakia can compete with any of them, and it's less-well known. If you want to get in on the cool before it becomes cool, now is your chance to go. And did I mention it's less expensive than the rest of Europe?

Internet Security

Over on my library blog today, I link to an article in Wired, focused on internet security. It scared me no end--enough that I wanted to blog about it. Here's the beginning of my post--click on over at the end to read the rest of it.

I just came across this absolutely frightening account on Wired of a man--a techie--who lost access to his email, his Amazon account, his Apple ID, the entire contents of his laptop and Apple devices--all due to some hackers who were bored. What scares me the most about this is that it happened to a guy who is "with it" when it comes to technology. He writes about it for Gizmodo, for crying out loud. I immediately started looking at my own security setup to see if the same thing could happen to me. It couldn't--mine's a bit different--but it's not out of the realm of possibility that there's another, easy way to get past the security I have set up.

When you get down to it, I'm tech-savvy, but not nearly as tech-savvy as some of the other people out there. Most of the time, I just take an approach of security in anonymity. There are billions of people out there--what are the odds that a hacker is going to take interest in me? I realize this is a really bad approach to take, but at the same time, there are so many ways for hackers to get access to my information, that it's just easier for me not to worry about it.

Read the rest of the post. 

Doing Awful Things to Your Main Characters: Vodnik Chapter Fifteen

Hmm. Chapter fifteen. This was a chapter that changed drastically in one of the last rounds of revisions, and I'm honestly still a bit up in the air about how it all ended up. I'm talking, of course, about the beating Tomas gets from the Bigot Gang. This was not a fun scene to write. It's the worst thing I've ever done to one of my characters. Yes, I've killed them before, but I haven't totally humiliated them. I tend to be a pretty optimistic guy. I like the believe people are inherently good, and having any of my characters--even my villains--do what Gollum, Draco, and Jabba do to Tomas in this scene . . . I needed to go wash my hands after I'd typed it.

And after I was done with it--after I'd read the scene over again--I still wondered if all that happens in it should happen. The kids pee on Tomas? Did that really happen? Would someone do that to another person? But then I read the news about what's going on in Europe with the Roma--what they face and have to endure--and if anything, I wonder if I went far enough.

When I first was working on the Roma revisions to the storyline in Vodnik, I kept trying to shy away from any real pain and suffering. Violence to Tomas was limited to gruff looks and general suspicion. Of course, this wasn't enough to adequately portray the Roma plight. And a big part of me wonders how any outsider could portray it. I'm not Roma, after all.

But then again, I'm not a magic user, either. I don't speak to fairies. I've never had to witness a murder--but these are things I drop in and out of stories whenever I feel like it. A big part of being a fiction writer is putting yourself into different "what if" situations and thinking through how they'd play out.

And yet even as I write that paragraph, I know there's no way to compare living as a minority with coming up with "what if" scenarios in my head. The difference is night and day.

The chapter--the bullying scene--stayed in as written. It provides a good contrast to the later scene, where the bullies try to up the ante, and Tomas turns the tables on them. It's vicious, yes--but so is racism. Go read Mississippi Trial, 1955 (linked to at the top of this post). The world is an awful place sometimes. Much more awful than what happens to Tomas here in this chapter.

That said, I'm really interested to hear what readers thought of this chapter--this scene in particular. Was it too much for you? What did you think when you read it? How did you respond? Please take a moment to answer, if you could. I can't be an objective reader in this case, and it was such a difficult scene to write--it would help me tremendously to see how actual readers engaged with it.

Special Order a Vodnik T-Shirt!

I've sold out of my first order of T-shirts, so I'm going to be ordering some more. I was really happy with how they turned out (been wearing the heck out of mine), and TRC has been dying to have his own since I got them. (He needs an XS, and I had only ordered S, M, L, & XL). I know last time there had been some people who were interested, but I didn't have their size (or I'd run out of it)--so if you want a t-shirt, let me know. I'll take special orders for any specific sizes this time around.

I plan to run the order sometime in the next week or two. Comment below, on Facebook, Twitter, or shoot me an email. The shirts cost me $13 each. If you write a review and promise to promo the book online or with your friends, I'll sell them to you at cost. Otherwise, they're $20 each. Shipping is $5.

Don't miss your chance for fun glow-in-the-dark reaper goodness!

Wisdom Tooth: The Reckoning

I never got my wisdom teeth taken out. I have a really big mouth. (No snide remarks, please.) At the time, I was really happy that I didn't have to have them out, since this meant an avoidance of . . . you know . . . having them out. Which I imagine isn't the best feeling in the world. And since I'm all for avoiding pain when possible, that was a plus.

Of course. which great power mouths comes great responsibility. My dentists always warned me I'd have to watch out for those wisdom teeth--taking great care to brush all the way heck back there. And I'd usually do as they asked. For the first few weeks after every appointment. But in the end, I'd return to my wicked lazy brushing ways.

For three decades, that wasn't a problem.

This week, the time had come for a reckoning. Not a huge, wisdom-teeth-getting-yanked sort of a reckoning. No--my wisdom teeth have decided to take the slow but steady root route to inflicting pain. Step one was get some cavities. I knew I had to have a couple filled on Tuesday. They were supposed to be minor, but it turns out, my wisdom teeth are much sneakier than that. They'd made a small impact on the outside of the tooth, but had let decay burrow its way much deeper into the inside of the tooth than any dentist could expect.

If you've read the blog for a long time, then you'll recall that I'm a complete wuss when it comes to dentists. Pretty much scared stiff of them drills and shots. In the end, did the actual drilling cause much pain? Maybe not, though I needed three shots of Novocaine to get through it, but the fear of possible pain was more than enough to keep me occupied throughout the ordeal.

The good news is that it's over. I still have the teeth. (Which will no doubt seem like bad news, come the day when they have to be yanked for good.) My mouth is still pretty achy. (Drilling a wisdom tooth means you have to have your mouth really wide open for a long time. Less than fun.

My dentist is a really nice guy, but I still hate going to see him. :-)

And for those of you who have stuck with this post for this long, here's my favorite dentist scene from film. (Hey--any of you BYU Film/Lit students notice that Steve Martin with dark hair looks a lot like Dennis Cutchins? Ot is it just me?)

In Defense of Losing

(Bonus points to anyone who can get the connection between the title of the post and the picture I used to lead this off--without clicking through to the source material. No peeking!)

I've been watching the Olympics over the last few days (naturally), and I've been as disappointed as many people have been over the poor quality of NBC's coverage. I never really noticed this before, so either I'm being more critical these days, or I've changed over the last few years, or . . . their coverage has gotten crummier. Probably a combination of both, plus the fact that I resent how hard they hold on to their coverage. CBS does a fantastic job with March Madness each year, letting anyone download an app and watch on their device of their choice for a small charge, plus ads. That seems more than reasonable. NBC seems to want to defend their coverage from any possible onslaught.

Me no likey.

But that's not what I wanted to post about today. No--what I've really been thinking about is how important it is to learn how to lose. In many ways, life's all about losing. You're going to lose, and you're going to lose often. I've always liked this quote by Michael Jordan:

I've missed more than 9000 shots in my career. I've lost almost 300 games. 26 times, I've been trusted to take the game winning shot and missed. I've failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed.

Sure, it's from a Nike commercial, but it's still a great point. The only way to be able to win is to be able to lose.

NBC was hyping up the Phelps/Lochte showdown so much, a part of me was more than a little happy when both of them failed to live up to expectations. Because I think it's important to see that dreams don't always come true. That you can work really hard for something, but just because you worked hard for it, doesn't mean you're going to do the best or have everything you wanted. That's a life lesson, folks.

I was reminded this during Jordyn Wieber's failure to make the all-around finals in women's gymnastics, as well. Everyone was talking about what an outrage it was, and how she should be allowed to compete anyway, and how she should have gone last in the order. All of that talk, but no one really focusing on why she didn't make it to the finals.

She lost.

She wasn't as good as the other two girls on the team. Despite NBC promo'ing the heck out of her. Despite all the commercials with her smiling face. She didn't come through when she needed to, and she lost. (The cameramen shoving their lenses into her face while she was sobbing was a bit much, though.)

I was really happy to see her bounce back. To get over her loss and come together with the rest of her team to win the gold last night. That's how you lose. You accept it, and you move on.

(Long aside: This same principle goes for other areas, too. In the same vein (but not a complete match) is the importance of being able to admit you were wrong about something. The other day, I posted on Facebook a minor rant against junk lawsuits--how disgusted I was that people kept using our legal system as a giant slot machine, everyone trying to cash in for a big settlement.

Then a friend posted a response, essentially telling me I was falling for a storyline that was based on hype and not facts. He even included some links to back his point up.

My initial response was to prove I was right. To find contradicting evidence that showed why I had been justified saying what I had. So I put on my librarian hat, did some research, and . . . discovered I had been wrong. I went back to the conversation, admitted I was wrong, and thanked him for correcting me. It was essentially good news, after all. I'd been upset that people were flooding our law system with junk lawsuits, and that wasn't the case.

I'm not trying to pat myself on the back, but I do wish this sort of mentality would be shared by others these days. Everyone seems so set on proving when they're right all the time. Looking for ways to slice numbers and shave statistics until they find something that confirms their gut reactions. All it takes is one study, and they sit back and point to it and say, "See?" When an argument becomes focused on who is right and who is wrong, any hope of having a productive exchange of ideas has long since evaporated.)

Anyway. Back on topic. When I look at my kids, I want them to play games, and I want them to lose. Not all the time, of course. Winning's fun, too. But I never got too good at losing when I was little. I'm still not great at it. I'm intensely competitive, and that does me no real good in the long run. I love playing board games, and I enjoy learning the rules and twisting them to my advantage. That should be enough--enjoying the process. But I sometimes get so hung up on winning that I lose enjoyment of the game.

I play Magic: the Gathering with a friend over lunch a few times a week. It's a game I've really come to enjoy the more I play it. Full of strategy and replayability. I have a great time playing. The last few times we've played, I've gotten mowed over, however. My friend is a much more experienced player than I am. He's been doing this for years and years. I've been playing for maybe one. I enjoy the process of learning--but I know I'd enjoy it more if I'd stop worrying so much about winning.

The temptation is there, of course, to tell my friend to lighten up, just as many youth sports have started focusing on "participating is the same thing as winning." I'm not a fan of that, clearly. You get better by playing against better competition. You get stronger by working against resistance. And getting better is important--much more important than the simple "I won."

I'm getting a bit rambly at this point. My thoughts are all over the place. Let me bring this back to the Olympics. The first night during the Opening Ceremonies, they interviewed Michael Phelps, who was asked if--if/when he won more medals than anyone else--he would have earned the right to be called the greatest Olympian of all time. To me, the answer to this was a no-brainer. You laugh, you say that's a bit much, and you point to all the other great Olympians out there. Did he do this? No. He sat there and thought about the question some, then eventually pretty much agreed, as I recall.

I thought it was outrageous.

So I was really happy to see him come in fourth in his first race. But I was even happier to see him actually show some humility in his interview after the men's relay victory last night.

Maybe losing had done something for him, too.