The previous post got me thinking about writing,

and authors, which made me think about the first time I met some authors. And about how someone's work gets fiddled with over time.

That time was the Fourth World Fantasy Convention in Fort Worth, 1978. First Con I'd ever been to, and my first real trip without parents involved. The big thing that caused a friend and I to buy tickets and save up for the trip was that the Guest of Honor was a gentleman named Fritz Leiber, who wrote(among other things) the Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser stories, just about my favorite sword & sorcery fiction pieces then and now. So the chance to meet him, and maybe chase girls(shut up) sent us south.

Very nice weekend in a number of ways, though finding the hotel was not one of them(note: do NOT trust directions the con staff send you) Met Leiber(not for long, he was rather in demand as you can imagine), met Andrew Offutt and a few other writers. In the dealers room found all the Fafhrd and Mouser books(all but one collections of short stories) I didn't have and got them all, and the drawing of them in the schedule, signed by Leiber. Met the wife-to-be. And was introduced to the works of Robert E. Howard.

Yes, the creator of Conan, and Bran Mak Morn, and Kull the Conqueror and Solomon Kane and others. My previous acquaintance with his work had been glancing through those godawful comic books: no matter the weather, enemy or place Conan was always in a breechclout and boots, etc. The Con was actually dedicated to Howard and his writing, and I'd wondered why. No, I didn't take the time to dig up one of his books and read it before the Con. The introduction to the actual Howard stories came through hearing them.

Saturday night the main event was a couple of readings. Harlan Ellison read two of his shorts, one funny as hell and the other equally creepy, and then Leiber walked to the podium. Leiber was about 6'4" or so, slim, with a mane of white hair and a deep, resonant voice. He'd been an actor at one time and it showed, with the hall quiet he could be heard fairly well even without the amp. Then all the lights in the hall went down except for the candelabra on the wall behind him and the small reading lamp, and he began to read.

The story was The Phoenix on the Sword, the first of the Conan stories and one Howard said he wrote 'as if Conan were standing behind me telling the story'. And Leiber had the gift of reading so that you felt you were in the story, watching and hearing instead of just sitting and listening. It was bloody awesome. And it started me reading Howard.

His Conan was very much a wandering barbarian mercenary, pirate, thief, whatever filled his purse. When it was cold he wore furs, when it was hot and sunny he wore pants and a shirt, or a robe, whatever was found where he was. And he wore armor. Not the character I'd expected from those comics. I've still got the books I picked up after that.

That was some weekend. Meet authors, buy books and get them- and that drawing- signed by Leiber, meet wife. Definitely interesting, and with long-term consequences in a variety of ways.

(I'll throw in something about the books: Karl Edward Wagner edited some of them, and did it the right way: corrected obvious spelling errors, set it up properly for paperback format as opposed to the original pulp magazine columns, and otherwise left the stories the hell alone. Read one as originally written, and compare it to the same after it had been 'edited to make it better'; you can really tell the difference. Which is why I'm still ticked at L. Sprague de Camp)