Category Archives: fanmail

Fanmail and Hummus

I have just now managed to get through the last of my e-mail backlog that built up while I was on tour. Who ever knew that it would take so long to work my way through a mere 2000 messages.

Next on my list is going through the 600 or so pieces of fanmail that have built up while I was gone. These are mostly e-mail too, though I do have a couple dozen old-fashioned envelopey messages too.

I used to respond personally to every message. But those days are long gone. I just don’t have the time anymore. But I do read them all. I don’t have anyone filter or pre-sort them for me.

On the home front, I’m having a good time hanging out with my baby. Little Oot is 18 months now, and he’s picking up words like crazy. When I came home on the 7th, after a week of touring, I found out that he had learned how to say “Monkey.” I was impressed, but also kinda sad that I hadn’t been the one to teach him this word. Because… y’know… monkey.

I’d been home for about 10 minutes when Sarah said, “What did we eat for the first time today?”

Oot gave her a look that wasn’t exactly blank, but let her know that he needed a little more help.

Did we eat hummus?” Sarah prompted.

“Hummus,” Oot said. He said the word with a particular intensity. It wasn’t: “Hummus!” Not an exclamation. But it really wasn’t just “hummus,” either. It said it with emphasis. “Hummus.

He pronounced it “haahmis.” With a tiny bit of a lisp on the s. It was, quite possibly, the cutest thing I’d ever heard.

“Haahmis….” he said again. “Haahmis.” A two-second pause. “Haahmis.” Another pause. “Hummus nummus,” he said. Expressing the opinion that hummus was, in fact, delicious. (Yummy = Nummy. Nummy ~ Nummus.)

I quickly had to revise my cuteness scale. “Hummus Nummus” was now top of the cuteness chart.

He then proceeded to say nothing but “hummus” for the next ten minutes.

And you know what? It never stopped being cute. Why? Because my baby is fucking adorable.

(Click to encutenate.)

In other news, (for those of you who have been asking) I’ve made my first tentative steps into playing Dragon Age II. I’ve only played 6-7 hours or so, and thus far my feelings are mixed.

More soon, including news of a few more signings, and stories from the tour.

pat

|posted by Pat 72 Comments

“And beside her came Andan…”

Back back in March, I got the following E-mail:

Dear Pat

I’m having my first baby boy with my wife (due date April 13). The only boy name I have found that we both like is “Andan”, found on page 188 of The Name Of The Wind.

I just really wanted to know if you remember where or how you came up with that name, and what you had in mind using it. I mean, the story reads that his name meant anger, but if you had any more information it would without a doubt be the single kindest thing anyone has done for me for a long time (in other words much appreciation:)

Although I have searched endlessly, I just can’t seem to find any good information on the name… which I really like for my baby… but am apprehensive using it as I really don”t know where it came from.

Anyway, if you got to read this I thank you so much for your valuable time. Here’s to Kvothe and his story… let more people find his tale and experience wonder. Seriously, though — Thank You.

-Jordan & Melissa

I was flattered, of course. And I dropped them the following note in return:

Jordan,

I wish I could help you more, but it’s hard for me to remember with that particular name.

You see, sometimes I make up a name and say it means something. And other times I take an old word and twist it a little and turn it into a name. And sometimes I take an old name and use it…

Unfortunately, that part of the book was written so long ago that I can’t rightly remember which it was. But I expect that I might have made the name up entirely….

Best of luck with the new baby, and if you do decide to name him Andan, drop me a picture of him. That’ll be a first for me, someone named out of the book…

Fondly,

pat

And that was that. I knew it wasn’t really a satisfying answer, but it was the only one I had. I didn’t hear anything back from them, which isn’t particularly odd. And I assumed that using the name had pretty much been a passing fancy on their part.

Then, just a couple days ago, I got the following message:

(Slightly edited for privacy’s sake)

Pat,

I emailed you awhile back about the name Andan in your book. You were gracious enough to provide with a prompt response, and I feel horrible that it’s taken so long to get back to you…. but we did have a BOY!

His name is Andan. I’m so glad that you wrote that name in your book one time b/c we simply love it for our boy, and it is just perfect.

Anyway, I wanted to get a few pictures of our son Andan to you as I said I would… and I’m a man of my word, pretty much, mostly, yeah… we’ll go with man of my word.

-Jordan

So, with no further ado, I would like to introduce everyone to Andan.

You have to admit, this is one seriously cute baby. He looks like one of the podlings from the Dark Crystal. I mean that in the best possible way.


At this point I’m tempted to say something witty, or pithy, or glib. But honestly, I can’t think of a thing. All I can do is think about how very strange my life has become in the last couple years.

My best to you, little Andan. Your face doesn’t look like a mask with burning eyes at all. It’s my sincerest wish that you someday meet a sweet girl named Ordal and form a good relationship built on the common experience of having some seriously cool geeky parents.

Jealous of little Andan? Wish your name was in one of my books? Well wish no longer…

You! That’s right, YOU have a chance to donate to a great charity AND get your name in my next book. Wow. I know. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. But remember, the raffle only lasts until November 15th.

Details, as always, are over here.

Later space cowboys,

pat

|posted by Pat 64 Comments

Everyone Hates Their Job Sometimes…

Here’s the truth. Sometimes I hate writing this fucking book.

I know this isn’t something most of you want to hear. You want to hear that it’s going well. (Which is it.) You also want to hear that I love every moment of writing it. It’s my baby, right? You have to love your baby…

Well, yes. But technically I’ve been working on this trilogy since 1994. The book is more like a teenager in some ways. You love a teenager too, but you can also be angry with a teenager. And sick of its endless shit.

The problem is this. People want to believe that being a published writer is a beautiful, happily-ever-after, candy mountain place where all your dreams come true.

Unfortunately, that’s bullshit.

This is a part of something I’ve come to think of as The Myth of the Author. I’m not going to get into the details right now. That’s a blog for a whole different day. But the gist of my theory is that, in general, people think of writers as a different sort of person. And by extension, writing is a different sort of work. It’s strange and wonderful. It’s a mystic process. It can’t be quantified. It’s not chemistry, it’s alchemy.

While some of that is true, this belief makes it really difficult for me to bitch about my job.

For example, if a doctor wrote a blog saying. “Fuck! sometimes I hate being a doctor…” People would read it and say, “Yeah man. I can see where you’re coming from. Long hours. Tons of responsibility. People expect a lot out of you. That’s a rough gig.”

On the other hand, if I come on here and bitch about my job. People will be disappointed. Irritated even.

Why would people be irritated? For several reasons.

Reason #1: It’s irritating when people complain about having a simple job.


Of course, writing a novel isn’t simple. Anyone that’s ever tried writing one knows this. The problem is, a lot of people haven’t tried. They assume writing is easy because, technically, anyone can do it.

To illustrate my point: Just as I was getting published, I met one of the big, A-list fantasy authors. (Who will remain nameless here.)

He told me the story of the time he’d met a doctor at a party. When the author mentioned that he wrote for a living, the doctor said: “Yeah, I was going to write a novel. But I just don’t seem to have the time.”

The author got a irritated just telling me this story. “When you say something like that,” he said. “It’s like saying being a writer doesn’t take any skill. It’s something anyone can do. But only a very slim percentage of the population can write well enough to make a living at it. It’s like going up to a doctor and saying, ‘yeah. My appendix was inflamed. I was going to take it out myself, but I didn’t really have the time.’”

Newbie writer that I was, I simply enjoyed the story, privately thinking that surely *my* readers would never be so foolish to assume that. And even if they did, I wouldn’t mind that much…

Fast forward to earlier this year, when I got the following e-mail:

Hi Patrick,

I’m a librarian, former teacher. I just read your book, very good. But, boy do you have a problem. Finishing tasks?? Why isn’t your editor doing a better job of guiding you? Here’s my quick recommendation: stop going to conventions. Your first book is a great hit, you don’t need any more marketing there. Sit down and decide where to END the second part. You don’t need to write any more. If book two is anything like book one, it is basically chronological. You’re done with book two!! Stop in a logical place, smooth out the transitions, and begin obsessing about book three. Good luck.

For those of you who have been reading the blog for a while, this is the letter I was thinking about mocking Waaaay back in May.

Re-reading it now, most of my irritation has faded. But my profound sensation of *What the Fuck* is still as strong as ever.

Let’s not even deal with the first half of the letter. Let’s ignore the fact that this woman isn’t a publicist, an editor, or my personal life-coach. Let’s jump straight to how she explains how I should write my book:

Oh. I need to sit down. I see. I need to know where to END it. I hadn’t thought of that.

And chronological order? Brilliant! Up until this point I’d been arranging all the chapters by length.

I mean seriously. You people do know that I have to make the entire book up, right? I’m not just cribbing it out of Kvothe’s biography, right?

Right?

And I lack the words to express my stupification at the offhand advice that I should just “smooth out the transitions.”

That’s not true. I do have the words. They go like this: “If this is the sort of advice you used to give your students when you were a teacher, thank you for not being a teacher any more.”

I counted yesterday. Do you know book two has eighteen fucking plotlines? Six entirely distinct settings, each with their own casts of characters? How exactly to I smooth that out? Do you think I just go down to the writing store, buy some fucking transition putty, and slather it on?

Okay. I lied. I guess I’m still irritated.

Truth is, I know that this letter comes from a place of love. This person is genuinely trying to help me. Deep in her heart of hearts, this woman believes she knows how to write a novel. The answers are so obvious. It seems simple to her…

This is why some folks will get irritated if I complain about my job. Because they think writing is simple.

But it isn’t. Nobody’s job is as simple as it looks from the outside.

Reason #2: It’s not cool to complain about your dream job.

I’m well aware of the fact that, I’m living the dream. A lot of people want to be published. They want it so bad they can taste it. They’d give anything…

I know this because that’s how I used to feel.

I’m lucky: I got published. What’s more, I’m one of the few writers that gets to write full time. Even better, I’ve gone international, and people all over the world are waiting for the next book.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t hate my job sometimes.

It doesn’t matter what you do for a living. Ron Jeremy probably calls in sick some days because he just can’t stand the thought of getting another blowjob. I don’t doubt that Mike and Jerry over at Penny Arcade occasionally wake up in the morning and think, “Fuck, I’ve got to play more fucking video games today.”

That’s just the way of the world. Everyone hates their own job sometimes. It’s an inalienable right, like life, liberty, and the pursuit of property.

Reason #3: The Myth of the Author.

People want to believe that the act of creation is a magical thing. When I write, I am like some beardy old-word god, hewing the book from some raw piece of literary firmament. When I write, the muse is like a lithe, naked woman, sitting on my lap with her tongue in my ear.

(This would make a great bookjacket photo.)

And you want to know the truth? Sometimes it’s exactly like that. Sometimes when I write, I’m so full of adrenaline that I could lift up a truck. I can feel my my tripartite soul burning in my chest like molten gold.

But sometimes it sucks. Just like any job. I get bored revising the same chapters over and over. My back hurts from hunching over the keyboard. I am so tired of fucking spellcheck. Do you know how long it takes to run spellcheck on 350,000 words?

I’m tired of trying to juggle everything: the plotlines, the character arcs, the realistic depiction of a fantastic world, the pacing, the word choice, the tension, the tone, the stories-within-stories. Half of it would be easy, but getting everything right at once? It’s like trying to play cat’s cradle in n-dimensional space.

The truth is, sometimes I’m so sick of sitting in front of this computer I could shit bile.

There. That’s all. I’m not quitting. I’m not even taking the night off. I just needed to vent.

Thanks for being here. Remember to tip your waitress. I’ll be here all week.

pat

|posted by Pat 285 Comments

Concerning Fanmail: Part One

So while I wasn’t paying attention, I apparently received my 1500th piece of fanmail.

Rather, I should probably say I recently received mail from my 1500th fan. There’s been more mail than that, because sometimes I end up e-mailing back and forth with people who drop me a line. Interviews. Witty banter. Coy flirtation. Geek talk. That sort of thing.

But yeah. 1500, people have sent me messages. And that’s just through the contact form on my webpage. That doesn’t count the people who have dropped me a line through Myspace, or Facebook, or sent me a physical letter. I’m guessing that if I counted those, the number would rise up over two thousand.

It’s a little stupefying now that I’m stopping to think of it.

I won’t lie to you, fanmail is great. There have been occasional exceptions to this, like the guy who sent me a message saying that he hoped a dog would bite me on the nuts. But even that made me laugh.

I’ll even go so far as to say that over the last year or so, fanmail has significantly improved the quality of my life. I’ve had some real emotional low points since the book came out. But many’s the time when I’d get a little note from someone and it would salvage what was shaping up to be a real turd of a day.

Like today, for example. Today someone sent me a pair of fucking nunchucks. I’m not even kidding. Look:

Okay. This picture is crap. But the nunchucks are cool. They’re heavy, solid. Not toys at all. And the only thing keeping me from swinging them around as an idiot is the thought of showing up as Guest of Honor at V-Con having broken my own nose.

They were sent to me as the “something cool” part of the package so I’d sign someone’s book. I was understandably delighted.

Then, later, I was out running errands and found out my favorite restaurant had just shut down. This place made sandwiches so good that they were sexual. Not just regular sexual either. These sandwiches were transcendent. They were the sandwich equivalent of a three-way. It was like you, the sandwich, and a sexy god made entirely of bacon got together for a friendly yiff.

Anyway, my point is that my favorite restaurant closed. Depressing. I was ready to be really bummed out. Then I thought to myself, “Someone sent me nunchucks today. I have nunchucks at home right now that I can go and play with.” And my day was saved.

Of course, not all fanmail is physical. But that doesn’t mean that it isn’t lovely. Take this excerpt, for example.

I want to thank you so very much. Your book brought me and my girlfriend closer together. Life is tough, my girlfriend and I have a 15 month old son (named after me!) and it seems all we do is work and work and occasionally work some more. Money is always tight and stress is always high, but your book brought a respite from our monotonous routine. J—- loved it (as I hope you guessed already). I had so much fun discussing the book with her I can not even put it to words.

Needless to say, reading something like that is every bit as good as getting nunchucks in the mail. What’s more, that e-mail has the added bonus of having absolutely no chance of breaking my girlfriend’s coffee mug. Which I just did.

In part two of this post, I’ll share more of my favorite fanmail excerpts. Y’all have said some crazy stuff over the last year.

Stay tuned.

pat

|posted by Pat 31 Comments

Concerning the Hugos

Since the Hugo nominations for this year were announced, I’ve received a surprising amount of mail on the subject. So far it has ranged from friendly consolation to frothy outrage over the fact that I’m not one of the contenders for the “best novel” category.

I won’t lie. I was hoping for a nomination. It would have been extremely cool. What’s more, it would have given me an excuse to wear a tuxedo at Worldcon. I like wearing a tux.

Alas, it was not meant to be. But I did want to thank everyone for their kind words, the messages y’all have sent have been very sweet, and they have eased the sting.

But what I realized just today is that each of these e-mails I’ve received shows people at different stages of the grieving process. Take a look. (All items in quotes are from actual letters or comments left on the blog.)

1. Denial. “I can’t believe you weren’t nominated.”

I can. The truth is, I’m really, really new to the scene. I’ve been a published author for almost exactly one year. And while it’s been a great year, most people don’t even know I exist. That makes it hard to win an award that’s based on a popular vote.

2. Anger. That’s bullshit that you’re not on there…seriously.”Dude, you were totally fucking robbed on the Hugo nods.” “I feel like punching someone in the neck about this!”

There were a lot of these. However, please do not punch anyone in the neck on my behalf. Remember: Anger, fear, aggression… the dark side of the Hugos are they.

3. Bargaining. “Is there a write-in option for the Hugos? I would have voted, but I was sur [sic] that you were a shoe in.”

Thank you, but there’s nothing to be done at this point. The nominations themselves are exclusively write-in, but voting for the the award itself is not. Even then, only people who are attending Worldcon get to vote in the Hugos.

4. Depression. “The more I learn how these things work, the more I realize I have no respect for awards that are given out by popular vote.”

Well, you know what they say about Democracy. It’s the worst form of government except for every other one that’s been tried….

5. Acceptance. “Let’s hope that The Wise Man’s Fear will be of the same quality and that it’ll receive the nomination TNOTW clearly deserved.”

I hope so too.

For those of you who are still stuck in the anger or bargaining stages, you could burn off a little of that energy in a productive way if you want. Namely, by casting your ballot in the Locus awards over here.

The Locus awards are a little different in that anyone can vote, not just a specific group of people, like the Nebulas or the Hugos. Plus they’ve been around for over thirty years, and are fairly prestigious in their own right.

Just make sure you follow the directions on the page before you cast your ballot. Anyone can vote, but anonymous votes are tossed out. And while there are pull-down menus, you can also write in your own votes in each category.

My book is eligible for both the “Best Fantasy Novel” AND “Best First Novel.” Just in case you’re interested.

Later all,

pat

Edit 9:45 PM: I’ve noticed a pleasant, but slightly unnerving trend in the comments on this note. While I’m flattered that people would vote for my book, I really hope that people aren’t just hopping over the Locus Ballot just to vote for me.

I tend to assume that the vast majority of the people that read this blog tend to enjoy a lot of fantasy and sci-fi. So what I’m really hoping is that you hop over to the Locus Ballot and vote for ALL your favorite books and stories of the last year. All of them. And if it turns out you like five other books better than mine… well… then tough shit for The Name of the Wind.

I know this probably goes without saying, and that most of you understood what I meant the first time around. But I’d rather make sure of it than come off as a dirty vote-grubbing whore.

pat

|posted by Pat 21 Comments

What Should I do #6: The Guild.

In recent news, I got my first piece of hatemail the other day. The author, enraged by the fact that the second book wasn’t going to be published on time, told me he wished a dog would bite me on the balls.

There was more to the letter, of course, but that was pretty much the gist of it.

For those of you looking to occupy yourselves in a more productive way while waiting for book two to come out, allow me to make a friendly suggestion: The Guild.

I stumbled onto the Guild about half a year ago and laughed my ass off. If you play computer games, or know anyone who does, odds say you’ll laugh your ass off too…

Then, months later, one of my friends forwarded THIS LINK to me.

For those of you too lazy to click, it was a blog post someone made about my book. They liked the book, but they had some pointed comments about the sort of covers they put on fantasy novels these days….

Then I looked more closely, and I realized that the person writing the blog was actress Felicia Day. You’ve probably seen her in a bunch of things, but my personal geekery stems from the fact that she played Vi on season seven of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

I know I should be cooler than this, but the truth is, I was overwhelmed with geeky joy at the thought of her reading my book and liking it.

It was only after looking over Felicia’s blog, that I realized she was in The Guild too. Not only does she play Codex, but she actually writes the script for it too….

Anyway, here’s the first episode of the guild to get you started.

Share and Enjoy.

pat

|posted by Pat 18 Comments

On the Perils of Translation

For those of you who may not know, over this last year we’ve sold the foreign rights to The Name of the Wind in, at my last count, 20 countries. So many countries that when I just tried to make a list of them all on a piece of paper, I was unable to remember them all.

When we first sold the Dutch rights, my giddy thought was that I would learn Dutch well enough to read my own book. Later, when a few more sales started to pile up, I realized a more realistic goal might be to learn enough so that I could read, perhaps, the first page of the book. Or the first few lines.

But now, with 20 countries, I’m thinking that if I work at it I can learn how to say the title of my book using the appropriate accent. I’d still just be saying, “The Name of the Wind,” but it would sound French, or German, or whatever they speak in Holland…. Hollandaise.

But on to the heart of the matter. When I first heard we’d sold the Dutch rights, my main thought was, “Wow, a quarter million word translation… that poor bastard.”

And that was about it.

A few weeks later, my translator contacted me and started asking questions about my book. It was only then that I started to get an idea of how complicated the process is. How many ways there are to go wrong in a translation….

For example, how can you translate the nicknames for all the buildings in the University? They’re slang. Artificery becomes Fishery…. But you can’t just translate that, because it really doesn’t have anything to do with fish…

Even worse are the names in Auri has given the places in the Underthing, they’re not even slang, they’re puns. Imagine trying to translate the belows/bellows/blows/billows conversation into another language? It just can’t be done….

Then there’s the plot points. Some subtle things are mentioned in the first book that will prove to be very important later. If they’re accidentally left out or changed, the series as a whole will suffer.

Luckily, my first translator, Lia Belt, was wonderful. She walked me through it carefully, asked a lot of questions, and helped me understand some of the potential pitfalls.

So over the last couple of weeks I’ve been putting together a comprehensive FAQ for the translators. It clarifies things that are potentially murky, and brings up some of the potential difficulties that I’ve become aware of.

In a way it’s fun, it forces me to examine my language and word use from a different angle than I’m used to. But at the same time putting together this FAQ has been like some sort of fractal magician’s trick. Where every time I answer a question it unfolds into four other important issues I need to address.

Anyway, that’s what’s going on in my life lately. Just thought I’d share…

And lastly, an interesting piece of fanmail someone sent me….

Pat!

Dude. I was looking around on E-bay, and I found THIS. Is it really yours? I thought Name of the Wind was your first book….

Let me know because if it is yours, I’m totally buying it…

J-

As always, I will protect the privacy of my fan by using a fake name: Susan.

Well Susan, The Name of The Wind was my first book in a lot of ways. It was my first novel. It was also my first professionally edited and published book.

But I did have a few other things printed before that, and Your Illustrated, Annotated College Survival Guide was one of them.

It is a collection of humor columns that I wrote over the space of four years for the local college paper, illustrated by a friend of mine, and with interesting annotations from yours truly. If you’re wondering what the columns were like…. well, odds are you’ve already read one of them here in my blog. Namely: The Great Zombie Debate.

Other helpful columns were written along the lines of, “How Not to be a Goddamn Mooch.” “On the Impotence of Proofreading.” and “How to Deal with the Unbearable Shittyness of Your Life…”

So yeah, in a nutshell, it’s me.

Later all,

pat

|posted by Pat 39 Comments
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