Category Archives: BJ Hiorns Art

Published: April 8, 2009

Upcoming appearances, and the woes of biography

I have trouble with simple things sometimes.

For example: I’m going to be Guest of Honor at Gencon this year.

That isn’t the hard part. Truth is, being Guest of Honor is a pretty sweet gig. I had my first taste of it up in V-Con last year.

When you’re GOH, the convention typically does lovely things for you, like pay for your hotel room and your flight out to the convention. Usually an author has to pay for all that out of their own pocket, which means it’s really expensive to hit two or three cons in a year. Let alone the five or six I usually try to attend.

This year, through a weird confluence of events, I’m going to be Guest-of-Honoring at four different conventions. Details are over on the Tour Page, if you’re interested.

One of these conventions is only a couple of weeks away, down in Madison. I’m sorry I haven’t posted up the info about Oddcon sooner, but I’ve been busy writing, and I was called in as a last minute pinch-hitter GOH to replace Tobias Buckell. He had to bow out on account of his wife being super-pregnant. If you’re interested, they’ve extended pre-registration until Friday because of the change of plans.

Anyway, in exchange for having our expenses paid, the GOH has certain responsibilities. The main one of these is to do stuff for the convention. We do more than the usual number of readings, signings, panels. Etc.

I don’t have a problem with this. This is why I go to conventions. I like talking about stories. That’s what I’m all about.

My problem was with something much simpler. As I mentioned above, I’m going to be the author GOH at Gencon this year. So they asked me to write a bio they can put in the program book….

This should be easy. It’s short. 150 words. When I was born. Where I’m from. What I’ve done. Stuff like that.

But I overthink these things. It’s a problem I have.

So I write a regular bio. Names. Dates. The Name of the Wind. Sold in 27 countries. Simple.

But then when I’m finished, I read that bio and it seems really dry and boring.

So I write a new bio. I want it to be better. Different. A little funny. I want it to be cool. Sexy even.

But then I read that one and it seems desperate, whorish. It’s stupid and corny.

So I write a new bio. I tone it down, try to be subtle, understated, professional.

But then I read that one and it seems boring again, plus stiff and awkward. Plus fakey.

So, finally, I get fed up and write something like this:

Patrick Rothfuss sprung fully formed from Marge Rothfuss, his mother, in Madison Wisconsin. In a mere three months, Pat grew to the height of a man while teaching himself to read and write using only a shovel and a dead cat.

When the voices told him to, Pat left home to attend college in at University Wisconsin Stevens Point where he joined Slytherin house and had many wonderful adventures. After graduating, Pat evolved into a being of pure light and energy. Then he went to grad school and evolved even further into being composed entirely of bile, anger, binder twine, and sweet, sweet, methadone. After grad school Pat joined forces with five plucky Japanese schoolgirls to form a giant robot that fights crime.

Through all of this Pat has read fantasy, watched fantasy, and written fantasy. Some academics have suggested that Pat eats, sleeps, and breathes fantasy, but this is simply untrue. The truth is that Pat eats burritos, sleeps like a drooly baby, and breathes a white-hot plasma composed of molten gold and rage.

And you know what? I like this bio the best. If I’m going to spew out bullshit, I’d rather have it be pure, unadulterated bullshit.

By the way, a lot of you have been asking who’s been doing my illustrations for the blog. It’s not me. I can’t draw worth a tinker’s damn. My illustrator’s name is Brett Hiorns, and he is awesome. You can say howdy to him in the comments, if you like.

That’s all I’ve got for now. More news soon. Cool news. Stay tuned.

pat

Also posted in appearances, conventions, my dumbness | By Pat93 Responses
Published: February 17, 2009

My Trip to LA: Part Two

Just a reminder folks. This is part two of a longer blog. Part one is over here.

[…]

I’ve had the chance to hang out with some pretty cool people over the last year: Peter S. Beagle, Tad Williams, Neil Gaiman. Folks I’ve idolized for a long time. But I never had this strange vertigo with any of them.

I’ve thought about it a lot since then, and right now my best guess is this.

I think talking to someone you’ve seen on TV is like meeting someone you already know. Your brain has become familiar with the image of this person, you know the texture of their voice, their body posture. For all intents and purposes, you know them.

Except you don’t. You’re just familiarized to the sensation of them. What’s more disorienting is that if they’re an actor, the personality you’ve attached to their image isn’t really their own. Or at least it’s not *entirely* their own.

I don’t think it’s the same with writers. When you’re experiencing our work, you don’t see our faces. You might get a peek inside our heads (or think you get a peek) but that doesn’t lead to the same visual imprinting that you get from watching someone on screen.

I’m not ashamed to admit that I’ve probably watched Dr. Horrible over a hundred times since it came out. I haven’t watched The Guild *quite* as much as that, but if you count the times I’ve re-watched each of the individual episodes, I’ve probably moved into the triple digits by now.

This means that in the last year, I’ve seen Felicia Day’s face more than I’ve seen the face of my own sister. More than I’ve seen the faces of any of my friends who all live out of town. More than any real-world face except Sarah’s, and honestly, during the week when Dr. Horrible was first released, that particular race might have been too close to call.

I think that’s what where this strange vertigo came from. It was some rational part of me hitting my the degauss button in my brain again and again. Helping me realize that the person in front of me was fundamentally different from the person I had been watching on the screen of my computer.

And eventually it worked. I was able to settle down and talk with her and the moments of odd vertigo grew farther and farther apart. Unfortunately one of those moments happened when I was signing a book for her. A signing that I screwed up to a degree that still embarrasses me.

I also have to say that I was really impressed with everyone else at the signing. I know a lot of people must have recognized her, but from what I saw, nobody freaked out on her or hassled her.

Part of this I’m guessing has to do with the fact that we were in LA, but I’m willing to lay a lot of it on the fact that my readership seems to be composed of very cool, intelligent people.

For example, when I was signing books after the reading, a couple folks came up to the front of the line, and thanked me for introducing them to Dr. Horrible on my blog.

I motioned them a little closer and they leaned in. “Be cool about it,” I said quietly, excited to get the chance to tell someone who could appreciate the news. “But Felicia Day is here. She’s behind you, standing in line!” I grinned, vibrating with geeky joy. Probably looking like a garden gnome who has recently stumbled onto the a particularly interesting patch of mushrooms.

“We know!” They grinned too, just as excited as me.

After the signing, the lot of us went out to dinner: me, my gracious hosts, a few of their friends, and Felicia day.

We ended up at a small restaurant, where I had the best Thai food of my life. And I must say, sitting there, surrounded by rocket scientists, librarians, and other persons of eclectic occupation. Chatting and trading stories with Felicia day. It was my own personal Valhalla.

Lastly, since we’re talking about public appearances, I’m going to be having a little reading up here in Hayward in a week or so.

So if you live up here in the north woods of Wisconsin and are not an elk, feel free to swing by. It should be a nice cozy event with just a few of us, so I’ll have plenty of time to chat with everyone who comes. Plus, I hear there will be cookies.

February 26th, Thursday, 6:00-8:00

Hayward Public Library
10788 HWY 27/77
Hayward, WI 54843

For more info call 715-634-2161

And back to work for me,

pat

Also posted in appearances, fan coolness, Felicia Day, meeting famous people | By Pat68 Responses
Published: February 14, 2009

My Trip to LA: Part One

So, it’s been about a month since my trip to LA.

Now some folk will quibble and say that I was in *Pasadena,* not LA. But that is a distinction that matters primarily to folks who live in the LA area. To the rest of us, that entire gob of city there in Southern California is all LA.

It’s best not to split hairs about these sorts of things. If we’re going to get technical, I would have to explain to people that I’m not originally from Madison proper. I’m actually from the Town of Burke, right next to Madison. And right now I’m not in Hayward, hiding from the world and writing, I’m in the nearby township of Lenroot, or something like that.

These are pointless little truths that don’t do anyone any good.

This is the art of storytelling, you see. Telling small lies in pursuit of a larger truth. The art of being a reader is being willing to work a little to get at the meat of the story, while at the same time accepting the occasional bent technicality and comma splice.

Anyway. LA was awesome. I was flown out by the lovely folks responsible for one of the winning pictures in the photo contest. Not only are these ladies lovely and willing to get naked for my book, but they are also rocket scientists. Seriously. So while I was out there, I got to take a tour of JPL and look at cool spaceship stuff.

I got to see oranges growing on trees. Which might not seem like a big deal for most of you, but for me it was pretty cool. I also saw lizards running around wild, and can now identify a eucalyptus tree. I got to play some new board games and walk around outside without wearing a coat or hat or anything.

The book signing itself turned out to be a marvelous success. We had a surprising number of people show up, I’m guessing 100 or 120. They had to bring out a bunch of extra chairs, and even then people were standing in the isles and sitting on the floor.

It was a good crowd. I read a few Survival Guides, a poem, and a snippet of book two. I told some stories, answered questions, and got a few laughs. Afterwards, I signed a buttload of books and got to chat one-on-one with folks. Someone brought me wine, someone else brought me an entire care package including memory sticks and tickets to Disneyland.

Though I love the swag, I feel obliged to remind folks that the “Something Cool” rule only applies to books you’re mailing in for me to sign.

That said, if you have something you’d *really* like to give me, far be it from me to stop you….

Of particular interest was something that happened halfway through the reading. I was answering some question or another, and I looked out and saw Felicia Day sitting at the back of the crowd.

Now this is the point in the story where I don’t exactly know what I should say. Normally when I’m telling a story out of my real life, I go with the truth, even when it’s embarrassing or unflattering. I don’t know exactly why I feel obliged to do this, but I do.

But for some reason, as I tell this story, I want to lie. I want to pretend I was laid-back about it. Pleased, of course, but also nonchalant. I’d like to portray myself as relaxed… cool. Like the Fonz from Happy Days. Or like the modern-day fantasy author version of the Fonz: Neil Gaiman.

I’ve seen Neil Gaiman a couple times. He’s a great public speaker, funny, insightful. He knows how to work a crowd, and he’s irritatingly good at reading his own work out loud.

Even better, he’s terribly gracious in person. I once watched him get ambushed by a fan who was desperate to have Gaiman read his manuscript. The guy clung to Gaiman and wouldn’t take no for an answer. I found it irritating from a distance of fifteen feet, but Gaiman was unfailingly polite through the whole exchange.

I’m not graceful in that way. I honestly don’t know how I come across in public, but sometimes I expect that it’s something like the way my old dog, Pup, used to behave.

He was a big liony mutt that I grew up with as a kid. An outside dog who never knew a fence, as we lived out in the country and let him run wild. He a smart dog, and a vicious hunter. He patrolled our house, protecting us from pretty much anything.

Despite the fact that he was a great hunter and defender, he was also very friendly. Unfortunately, it was like he never figured out that he wasn’t a puppy anymore. When someone came over for a visit, Pup would jump up on them, putting his paws up on your chest (or your shoulders, if you were shorter) and lick your face.

This is fine behavior if you’re a fluffy puppy with milk-breath, or if you’re an adult dog hanging out with your family. But Pup treated everyone that way, even when he was full grown, shaggy, and smelling of whatever interesting he had found to roll in.

I suspect that’s what I must be like when I’m in public most of the time. I’m this great shaggy beast who gets excited about meeting new people, and does the conversational equivalent of jumping up on people and licking them in the face.

This means that when I want to be socially graceful, I need some sort of internal touchstone about how I should act. So when I see Felicia Day sitting in the back of the room, I think to myself: WWNGD?

I’m guessing he would not, for example, stand up at his own reading and say: “Holy shit everybody! Felicia Day is here!”

So I didn’t either. But I tell you, it was a near thing. I’m pretty sure I kept my game face on, and kept answering whatever question I was in the middle of. But the truth is, inside I was standing up and pointing, shouting: “Holy shit! Everybody! Felicia Day!” with all the enthusiasm of a four-year-old who has just seen his first real firetruck drive by on the street.

(Re-reading this, I think I need to add another item to my ever-growing list of Things You Should Never Compare a Woman to Under Any Circumstances. Number Seven: Firetruck. Perhaps any type of truck.

For the record, please note that this particular use of firetruck is being used to describe my reaction to Felicia, not Felicia herself.)

Anyway, after the reading, I managed to grab Felicia and chat for a bit before I started signing books. By this point I’d settled down a bit and was able to behave like a regular human being.

But still, every once in a while, my head would spin around a bit and I would think, “Wha? Who is this? Holy shit. I’m talking with Felicia Day!”

*****

Well folks, due to my tangential nature, this particular blog has ended up being WAY longer than I’d intended. I’ll post the rest of it in a day or two, how’s that?

In the mean time, if you don’t know what the big deal is, you can go check out Dr. Horrible, where Felicia plays Penny. Or The Guild, which Felicia writes and produces in addition to playing the part of Codex.

Later,

pat

Also posted in a billion links, Felicia Day, meeting famous people, my rockstar life, Neil Gaiman, tangentality | By Pat24 Responses
Published: February 11, 2009

My Funny Valentine

One of the side effects of working on the book intensively is that everything else tends to fade from my awareness. I fall behind on e-mail, miss scheduled appointments, ignore Sarah, and tend to let the blog slide.

So yesterday, as I hauled firewood into the cabin, I thought, “Is it February? Isn’t Valentines Day coming up?”

Then I thought, “Won’t I be up here in Hayward, shackled to The Wise Man’s Fear over Valentine’s day?”

I realized it was true and went inside to call Sarah. I asked if she was cool with that.

She was cool with that.

I went back to carrying firewood and found that I couldn’t remember when I’d last posted a blog, or what it had been about.

Then I thought, “I’m pretty sure I’ve written a Valentine’s day column at some point in the past. If I could find it, that would save me some time.”

So, after I was done schlepping in the wood. I dug through my files and found I was correct. I had written a Valentine’s Day column. In fact, I had written several of them over the years.

Then I found this one. A column I had written several years ago and forgotten about until now.

This, my friends, is what we writers refer to as serendipity.

[Editor’s note. For a few of the references in this column to make sense, you have to understand that by the time I did this column, I had been writing it in the local paper for over seven years and actually had a sponsor who underwrote the column. This provided me some much-needed ad revenue, and let me offer prizes to people who wrote in letters. Usually a gift certificate from a local coffeeshop.] [Editor’s note – This isn’t really an editor, by the way. It’s just me. But “Pat’s note” doesn’t sound nearly as official.]

Dear Pat,

A friend gave me a copy of your College Survival Guide Collection for Christmas and I spent all break reading it. It was awesome getting to read all the columns from back before I came to School here.

After reading those old columns, I realized your newer columns are a little… angry. Compared to those earlier ones. They’re still funny, but they’re also kinda grim.

I was just hoping we could occasionally see the kinder, gentler Pat. The Pat that gave advice to the girl with all the scars back when I was a freshman, or wrote the Christmas column in your book. Focus on the positive.

Kaitlin

*****

Pat,

My girlfriend keeps talking about you. All the time. She’s all like, “Pat Rothfuss is the funniest guy! OMG! I can’t believe the things he says!” Honestly, I’m pretty sick of it.

It’s gotten worse since you put up that Myspace page. She read more of your stuff and found some pictures of you and thinks you’re “the cutest.” So now I’m officially pissed. I’m her boyfriend, I’M supposed to be CUTEST!

So I was thinking I only have two ways to solve this problem.

You could go out on a date with my girlfriend. It would be like a Valentine’s day present to her. AND I’m guessing after she meets you she’ll realize you’re not all that.

We could trade girlfriends. Mine is obsessed. And I’m guessing yours is probably pretty sick of you.

Sad About My Inappropriately Excited Girlfriend

Well SAMIEL, flattered as I am by your proposal, I find myself skeptical. Lately, people have been writing in fake problems just to get free coffee from the Mission. So I suspect that this letter is pure bullshit. Well, maybe not *pure* bullshit, but at least three-nines fine.

First off, there are no photos of me up at myspace, only illustrations. Secondly, nobody says: “OMG!” And lastly, I have a hard time believing anyone would offer their girlfriend a date with someone else as a V-day present.

I expect it’s much more likely that this is a blatant attempt to get close to my girlfriend.

While my cynical nature inclines me toward the first possibility, I’m going to take Kaitlyn’s politely-phrased suggestion and focus on the positive in this column. I’m going to assume that you’re smitten with my ladyfriend, and, with V-Day coming up, you decided to make your move.

No offense to your girlfriend SAM. She’s obviously a woman of impeccable taste. But she can’t hold a candle to my girlfriend.

My girlfriend’s name is Sarah. She is, to put it plainly, the best of all possible girlfriends.

Some of you might remember the V-day column from a couple years back when I bitched about how girls get to cash in on Valentine’s day, while guys got screwed in the deal? Well, last Valentine’s day, Sarah bought me flowers and candy, took me out to dinner, and gave me a backrub. How’s that for cool?

But that’s only the tip of the iceberg. She’s hella smart, a great writer, and better at math than me. She does community service, keeps up on current events, and makes awesome banana bread. Her hair smells really, really, good.

Sarah is also hot. Beyond hot. I’m not even kidding here. You know when you see a geeky guy walking around an absolute bombshell and you think, “The hell? How did he end up with her? She’s a thousand times hotter than him!” Well Sarah and I are like that, with the main difference that I’m pretty damn sexy too.

It’s like a story problem: if Sarah is a thousand times sexier than Pat, and Pat is fifty times sexier than you… Do the math: (Damn sexy x 1000 + boobs = Sarah.)

Shes so sexy that Homeland Security is worried about her falling into the hands of the terrorists. Fema has passed a special set of laws requiring her to always wear at least three layers of clothing whenever she’s in public. If she wears only one layer, she causes car wrecks. If she wears a tank top, men without protective eyewear have grand-mal seizures and passing women become suddenly bi-curious.

When she gets naked, the sexiness she throws off is like the radiation from a nuclear bomb. If we hadn’t lined the walls of her bedroom and bathroom with three inches of lead, no man in Stevens Point could wear tight fitting pants, and every woman in Central Wisconsin would be gay.

I’m running low on space here, so I can’t go into details about the sex. So let me just say this: Damn.

Perhaps most importantly, Sarah is sweet. I have a tendency, as Kaitlyn pointed out, to get a little grim. I tend to waver back and forth between a raging inferno of furious anger, and a chilly pillar of bitter cynicism. But being around Sarah is like a drink of cool water. When she’s nearby, you realize that the world is a pretty nice place after all. Sometimes her influence is all that keeps me from turning into a cussed, crotchety old bastard.

Love ya sweetie, happy Valentine’s Day.

*****

Awww…. Isn’t that sweet?

If you’d like to leave a comment for Sarah telling her how lovely she is, feel free.

That said, don’t get too fresh. She is, after all, My Girl.

Unless you are lady-types, of course. Then you can get as fresh as you want. Be my guest.

Later all,

pat

Also posted in College Survival Guide, Sarah, sexy | By Pat41 Responses
Published: January 5, 2009

Fromage a Trois.

Hello there everyone. I’ve retreated to my man cave for a while to work on book two. To entertain you in the meantime, here’s one of the College Survival Guide columns I used to write for the local paper.

Dear Pat,

I recently had a rough relationship with a friend.

Actually, I was punch-drunk in love with the guy. We were on the verge of dating and did typical things like talking for hours on the phone, hanging out together, flirting, and beyond.

Everything was going great, but no one was making the first move even though we had talked about dating. When he finally asked me out, I later found out that he already had a girlfriend and was playing me the whole time. As you can imagine, I was angry with the fiery passion of a thousand burning suns.

Anyway, the next time we hung out I desperately wanted to ask if the rumors were true, but I never did. As the day went on, I kept thinking about all the lies this guy had told me and couldn’t imagine how anyone could be so heartless. Well, he kept making fun of me about one thing or another and I finally snapped. At the time, I was holding a one pound block of Colby cheese and this guy wasn’t quick enough to take cover. I had no intention of severely hurting him, but I’ve never seen someone go down that hard! I nailed him right in the kidney so it took him a few minutes to recover. I felt pretty bad afterwards, but he was feeling better the next day.

So now that the story is out of the way, I can ask you my question. Should I feel bad now that this guy has a giant bruise and will probably be peeing blood for the next month?

Sincerely,
Kristin

Only in Wisconsin could we have a problem like this: cheese-related domestic
abuse.

Come to think of it, I wouldn’t be surprised if there were a few Wisconsin laws on the books relating to cheese-specific crime. Wouldn’t that make a great CSI spin-off? “This week on CSI – Dairyland: our heroes struggle to unravel a baffling second-degree lacticide….”

First, I have to say that this letter cracked me up, Kristin. The funniest one I’ve gotten in a long while. This is because it contains the two fundamental elements necessary for comedy:

1) Something horrible happening to someone else.

Mel Brooks said it best, “Tragedy is when I cut my finger. Comedy is when you fall into an open sewer and die.” There’s something buried deep in our brains that makes us enjoy the traumatic suffering of strangers.

It’s not a pleasant thing to think about, but it’s true. Think of every joke you’ve ever laughed at. 99% of the time what makes you laugh is something horrible. If a joke begins “An American, a German, and a Norwegian go fishing….” You already know the end. We end up laughing at the Norwegian because of his stupidity, or because something horrible happens to him. Or both.
Don’t believe me? Think about every Loony Tunes cartoon you’ve ever watched, or any episode of America’s Funniest Home Videos.

Still, don’t believe me? Check this out.

Case closed.

2) An element of the ridiculous.

Ridiculous things are funny. Like a monkey wearing a dress, or a clown having sex, or an English major with a job. In this letter, the ridiculous element is a girl is kicking a guy’s ass with a chunk of cheese: pure comedy gold.

I mention all of this because the humor of this letter really obscures the issue. So let me present a different, humor-free scenario:

There’s a guy and a girl. They hang out, flirt, “and beyond” doing the relationship dance. Later, the guy finds out that the girl already has a boyfriend. She’s been lying to him and leading him on, and generally taking advantage of his trusting nature.

So the next time they’re together, the guy is seething mad. He keeps it under control for a while, but eventually a comment makes him lose his cool. So he takes whatever is in his hand: a coffee mug, a wrench… whatever. Then he hits her with it. Hits her so hard that she falls down and can’t get up for several minutes.

Now the question: should the guy feel bad? Seems pretty straightforward to me.

So yeah, Kristin, you should feel bad. Because, when all’s said and done, you took something non-violent and made it violent. Someone hurt your feelings and you hurt their body. And ultimately, it doesn’t matter that he’s a guy and you’re a girl. It doesn’t matter if you use a wedge of gouda or a baseball bat. It doesn’t matter that he seems to be, on all accounts, a total prick. That’s just not a good thing. Feel bad. Apologize.

Now I’m not saying that what he did was any better. He abused your trust, and, in my opinion, that warrants him a severe, figurative, ass-kicking of some sort.

Unfortunately, you’ve forfeited your right to creative revenge by opening up the can of whoop-ass on him. Too bad, I could have written a great how-to get revenge column for all the jaded lovers out there. Oh well.

Oh Survival Guide, how I miss you….

What do you think, folks. If I offered to write new advice columns here on the blog, would anyone be interested? Let me know in the comments below.

Be good,

pat

Also posted in College Survival Guide | By Pat65 Responses
Published: November 24, 2008

For Whom the Bell Tolls

The blog has been a little overwhelmed lately with the Heifer Fundraiser. And while that’s a good thing, I thought I’d take a day’s break and post up something funny. Expect more news and prizes in a day or so….

This is a column I wrote for the College Survival Guide. I thought I’d re-post it now because it seems timely for several reasons….

I wrote this back when I was going to grad school in Washington State. When the end of that semester rolled around, I was overwhelmed. I ended up staying in Washington four extra days so I could finish a paper, and that meant that I missed my family Christmas. I felt awful about it. I still do.

But what’s funny is that my sister cut the column out of the Pointer (the college paper that originally printed the Survival Guide) and took it home for Christmas. Then, when everyone was gathered at home on Christmas eve, Jamie read the column for the family.

General agreement was that it was just as good as having me there. Probably even better in a lot of ways.

*****

Dear Pat,

Well. I see in the Pointer that if we have something to piss and moan about, we are supposed to let you know. So here we go.

The other day I was walking past the University Center. I was cold, but I knew I had to get to the next building for my next class. I was tired, but I knew I had to keep going and make it through the day. I was hungry, but I knew I would have to wait until I got home because I had no money.

While I was approaching the UC building (dreaming about what kind of food I wish I could go and buy) I hear a bell ringing and thought to myself, “No way, they don’t have a Salvation Army guy here at the college.” But sure enough, I got a little closer and I saw that friendly old guy waving his bell in front of his cute little collection pole.

I couldn’t help but glare at him in the way that said “I hate you” and I did, at that moment, hate that man, whoever he was. I glared at him the whole time until I was passed him. I made damn sure he saw me glaring too, I don’t care what he thought.

I am broke. Isn’t everyone here at the college????

I am a full time college student (who happens to live alone) and I work close to 40 hours per week at some cheesy restaurant trying to pay my bills and get an education. Rent, car payment, bills, you know what I mean. No matter what, I never can get ahead enough to even feel like I can treat myself to a nice hot meal.

All the money we students are spending here at college, not to mention the (expensive) parking meters, and yet the college has enough balls to set up a collection for more money. I don’t even have enough money to support myself. You stand here wanting us to help out the less fortunate when we are the less fortunate. We have nothing.

Well. If ya like my piss and moan story-that’s great. I feel confident that you know what I mean here and I hope you help in writing something up on this in your paper, maybe the bell guy would then go away.

Marie

Well Marie, I had a strong response to your letter. Actually, I had two responses, each of them utterly irreconcilable with the other. Luckily, due to an end-of-the-semester psychotic break, I have two fully formed personalities willing to give their opinions on the matter.

Nice Pat’s Response

I know for a fact that the Salvation Army guy isn’t a new thing. I used to see him there in front of the UC every year, and I’ll admit my reaction was somewhat similar to yours. I felt put-upon.

As my dad always said, you can’t get blood from a stone, or pity from a freshman during finals week. Why were they trying to milk me when I was already dry?

Truth is, even well-intentioned college students are usually strapped for cash, especially at the end of the semester. Because of that I always felt the bell ringer could have been put to better use somewhere else. In the mall. Outside Wal-Mart. On the square at bar-time. Onstage, next to that big pole at the New Yorker….

[editor’s note: The New Yorker is a local strip club. Or at least, that’s what I’ve heard.]

(This column’s illustration from the anthology)
Evil Pat’s Response

Marie, it’s not that you’re poor. It’s that you’ve has been trained to drool when the bell rings. What do I mean by that? I mean this: You’ve bought into the system, and the system has made you its bitch. Sure I feel sorry for you, but the fact remains that it’s your own damn fault.

I understand that you work 40 hours a week in addition to school. Fine, but don’t expect pity from me just because you follow some outmoded protestant work ethic.

“But I need the money!” I hear you cry.

Bullshit. You think you need the money. The truth is you spend your money on non-essential items. Just like everyone else who’s been inculcated into the three-step easy-bake American dream.

1) Work hard to get money.
2) Use money to buy things.
3) Use things to achieve happiness.

“But I don’t have things! I’m barely making it from bill to bill!”

Bullshit. I know that you’re living in some manner of extravagance because as an undergrad I made on average of 6000 dollars a year. And with that colossal sum I paid my tuition, had my share of hot meals, bought presents for my girlfriend, and still had enough to drop a couple of bucks in the bellringer’s bucket come Christmas time.

How did I achieve this miracle? Well, I never had a car for one thing. I survived nearly a decade in Stevens Point without one, walking to my various jobs and carrying my groceries home.

I never had the luxury of living alone either. Well….that’s not really true. For a year I lived in a one-room apartment with a bathroom down the hallway. It cost me $140 per month, everything included. My friends called it ‘The Pit.’ I stayed there because it was cheap, and that freed up my money for other things, like nudie magazines, leather pants, and grain alcohol.

Here is the unvarnished truth. If you’re poor and in college, you’re not really poor. You’re just indulging in certain luxuries beyond your means. However, there are people in the country that are genuinely poor. People who don’t have cars, or even nasty little one-room ‘pit’ apartments.

Most importantly, those people don’t have a support network of friends and family who are willing to help them out if something bad happens. What those people do have is The Salvation Army. They buy toys for poor-kids and shut-ins for chrissake. You can’t find any fault with an organization like that.

So pony up, pig-licker, and give some jingle to the bucketman.

*****

Years later, I know more than when I wrote this column, and because of that I can, actually find fault with an organization like th
e Salvation Army because I know they actively discriminate against gays. It’s sad, but I just can’t feel good about cheering them on anymore.

To an extent, any charity is better than no charity. But I believe that smart charity is the best charity of all….

More soon,

pat

Also posted in College Survival Guide, Fanmail Q + A, My checkered past | By Pat19 Responses
Published: November 10, 2008

Heifer International: Part Two – The Details

What’s that you say? You’d like to make the world a better place while simultaneously winning fabulous prizes?

Well today is your lucky day.

Heifer International is my favorite charity. It helps people raise themselves up out of poverty and starvation. All over the world Heifer promotes education, sustainable agriculture, local industry, and clean water.

They don’t just keep kids from starving, they make it so families can take care of themselves. They give goats, sheep, and chickens to families so their children have milk to drink, warm clothes to wear, and eggs to eat.

I think this is something we can all get behind.

If you’re wondering *why* I’m doing this, that information is OVER HERE. This blog gives details on *how* the donation drive will work.

You’ve got two options for donating. Please read things all the way through before making your choice.

Option One: The Lottery.

I’ve created a webpage OVER HERE on Heifer’s website. For every dollar you donate there, I’ll donate a dollar too.

It works like this:

Elegant in its simplicity, no?

After a month’s time, on December 11th, we’ll have a drawing for prizes. I’ll use the information from the Heifer site to get the donation totals. For every 10 bucks you’ve kicked in, your name will get entered into the drawing once.

So if you’ve donated thirty bucks, your name would go in three times. Think of it as buying tickets, if you like.

When I started this fundraiser, I thought it was mostly going to be for my readers and people on my blog. So most of the prizes centered around my book (as you can see below.) But the fundraiser has grown since then, and we’re getting new stuff from generous donors all over the world. Stay tuned for new stuff.

Added Nov 18th – We have a bunch of signed books and ARCs OVER HERE.

Added Nov 20th – More signed books and ARCs OVER HERE.

Added Nov 24th – Signed manuscript of Enemies and Allies OVER HERE.

Added Nov 26th – More signed books and collectibles OVER HERE.

Added Dec 1st – Signed books from Bad Moon Press OVER HERE.

Added Dec 2nd – Signed books and prints from Peter S. Beagle OVER HERE.

Added Dec 3rd – $8000 of signed, limited-edition books from Subterranean Press OVER HERE.

Added Dec 9th – More signed books, ARC’s, DVD’s, and other cool swag OVER HERE.

  • 40 color maps of the Four Corners. Signed by me.

Drawn by my friend, Nathan Taylor. Nate is also the illustrator who drew the black and white map that ended up in the book. This is the color version, so you can see some of the detail that’s not available in the book, including some of the political borders.

  • 40 Copies of The Name of the Wind Movie Poster. Signed by me.

Also drawn by Nathan Taylor. He was fantasising about them making a movie out of the book, and drew this as a mock-up of what the movie poster might look like. I love Kvothe’s expression. It really captures a key piece of his personality.

Nate and I are also working on a not-for-children children’s book together. So here’s your chance to get hold of some of his art before he gets super famous….

  • 90 Copies of the DAW sampler. Signed by me.

DAW put this out earlier this year as a promotional item. It’s got teaser pieces from all sorts of upcoming DAW books, from authors like Tad Williams and Mercedes Lackey.

It also has a chapter from The Wise Man’s Fear.

  • 25 signed hardcover copies of the Name of the Wind.

The 5th printing with the sexy new cover.

  • 5 copies of the College Survival Guide. Signed by me and the illustrator.

My first publication. The first four years of the humor column I wrote for the local paper, along with illustrations and annotations. Only 500 copies of this were printed, so they’re hard to come by these days. Perfect for reading on the toilet.

  • 5 First edition copies of the Name of the Wind. Signed by me.

With the old out-of-print cover. You wouldn’t believe what some people are charging for these things out there.

  • 6 Copies of Tales of Dark Fantasy. Signed by me.

This is the Subterranean Press anthology that printed my short story, “The Road to Levinshir,” which is an excerpt from The Wise Man’s Fear.

It also has some great stories by folks like Tim Powers and Kage Baker. It’s a beautiful hardcover book, and the cover price was $40, and that was back before it sold out.

  • A signed copy of the first printing UK hardcover.

There aren’t many of these in existence the simple reason that I don’t live in England. Plus, you know how everything sounds way cooler when it’s pronounced in an English accent? Well this book is WRITTEN in an English accent. How cool is that?

  • 2 Copies of the original galley proofs of The Name of the Wind. Signed by me.

A galley is an early version of a book that publishers occasionally print in order to promote a book. There weren’t that many of these printed, and the last one of them I saw on e-bay was going for over a hundred dollars. The few signed ones out there are going for more than that…

  • A copy of the UK galley proof. Signed by me.

I’ve only seen about ten of these, so a signed one is probably a bit of a collectible item.

  • Two advance reading copies of The Wise Man’s Fear.

I need to stress that this book is not ready to read yet. Not. Ready. To Read. Yet. That means you can’t have it right now. (This picture is a cruel lie.) But here’s the deal, if you win this, I’ll make sure you get a copy as soon as it’s ready to show around, before it officially hits the shelves.

  • An early editorial manuscript of book one.

A proto-version of The Name of the Wind, printed out on my trusty HP printer, and marked up as part of my ongoing editorial process. Includes the now absent first chapter of the book, as well as a hundred other small differences. A similar item sold for 1000 bucks over in England a while back, and the one they have now is going for more than that. So odds are, if you don’t want it, you can sell it to someone else who does….

Two things:

  • Make sure you donate on MY PAGE. Otherwise I won’t know you donated, won’t have access to your e-mail, and won’t be able to include you in the fun.
Option Two: The Sure Thing.

Or, as I like to think of it, the Christmas Present Option.

Over the last couple months, people have been contacting me, asking if I’m still signing books like I mentioned in my blog from long ago.

The simple answer is, “yes.” You mail me the book, something cool, and a check to cover return shipping, and I’ll sign your book.

But right now, in honor of the Heifer fundraiser, I’m willing to streamline the process. Rather than you buying a book, finding something cool, packaging it up, and paying for shipping both ways, you can just mail me a check and I’ll send you a book signed however you like. Then I’ll ship it right back to you, carefully packaged and in time for Christmas.

Here’s a list of the books I’ve got stockpiled here in my house. (For more detailed descriptions, look above.)

  • New – Signed color version of the Four Corners map. $40
  • Signed hardcover (5th edition with the new bluish cover) – $45
  • SOLD OUT Signed copy of Your College Survival Guide – $65
  • SOLD OUT Signed copy of Tales of Dark Fantasy – $75
  • SOLD OUT First Edition Hardcover – $85
  • SOLD OUT Signed galley proof – $250
  • SOLD OUT  – An ARC of book two – $1000 (Not now. When it’s finished. Details HERE)
  • SOLD OUT – I will give you feedback on your manuscript – (Details HERE.)

For the most part, these prices are double what these things cost me, plus a little to cover shipping. I can get a 5th edition hardcover for 20 bucks, so they’re up there for 45. The anthology I can get for 35, so they’re going for 75….

The reason for this is that it’s in keeping with me matching donations. If someone buys a book from me for 20 dollars and then I donate the money. They really haven’t
donated. They just bought a book. Follow me?

If you’re going with option two, please follow these directions.

1. Write the following information on a 3 x 5 note card:

A) Which item you want.

B) EXACTLY what you’d like me to write in the book.

I have no problem personalizing books, but please be specific about what you’d like. Asking for a quote from Bast is fine. Asking me to wish someone luck in their own writing is fine. “Happy Birthday Schmendrick.” “To the best lover I’ve ever had.” It’s all good.

But if your card says, “write whatever you want.” I will write, “Whatever you want” in the book. Seriously.

C) Your return address.

D) Contact information. Either a phone number or an e-mail address where you can be reached.

2. Include a check. Make it out to me because I’ll be using a couple bucks from each one to cover postage.

3. Mail the note card and the check to:

Pat Rothfuss
P.O. Box 186
Stevens Point, WI 54481

If you live outside the US and want to buy a book, follow the instructions I’ve laid out in THIS BLOG. International shipping is expensive, and you need to fill out your check a certain way or my bank won’t cash it.

  • If you’d want to buy something AND do the lottery, that’s fine. So if you send in a check for 85 dollars, and specify that you’d like a copy of the College Survival Guide, I’d mail you that book, then match the extra twenty dollars and throw your name in the hat twice when we did the drawing.
  • If you’re an author or some other interested party who would like to donate something other than money to the cause, feel free to drop me an e-mail at Paperback.contest (squiggly at sign) gmail.com

Additional questions? I might have answered them HERE or HERE or HERE. Please read through those FAQ’s before you e-mail me.

That’s all for now. If you have any other ideas for things that might make good prizes, feel free to leave them in a comment below.

And one more time, here’s the link to MY TEAM PAGE.

Hopefully yours,

pat

Also posted in baby ducks, being awesome, Nathan Taylor Art, Worldbuilders 2008 | By Pat66 Responses

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