This video of Michael Masnick’s presentation at NARM 2009 was especially interesting to me at this juncture because I have recently started a business called Hospice Media that does just what he spoke of. We are working to get artists online, get connected with their fans, generate new fans, and release creative and interesting physical products.

The most interesting part of the video for me was how he broke down the best strategy into two different important parts CwF (Connect with Fans) and RtB (Reason to Buy). These are both things I’ve been thinking about with Hospice, but never specifically thought about them.

It is incredibly important for artists to have a meaningful and direct relationship with their fans. That could be through a website/blog, twitter, youtube videos, or even postcards sent through snail mail. And the Reason to Buy is what we actually founded the company on. My partner and I realized that CDs were a dead format and were now only used to transfer music from the store to the computer. It’s better to remove that step by having music downloadable, but then you lose that physical connection with the music. With every release with Hospice, there will be some sort of physical object to go along with it. It could be simply a poster or t-shirt, or something as elaborate as a sculpture or custom painted underwear (something we’re actually doing for one release).

It was a good video, and useful information. Please follow the site, and enjoy the music and other art!

iTV

Apple’s AppleTV is the long neglected set top box that people usually just bought to install Boxee on. This could be the potential update that gets the layman and the nerd alike interested.

Rumor has it, it will be much smaller, run the same OS as the iPhone (iOS), and have its own app store. Price point is rumored at a mere $100. If all this is true, and there is the possibility of playback of non-Apple video codecs (either through sanctioned or nefarious means), then you can count me in.

[You can find more info on this at Engadget]

VeriPhone

The long and arduous trek of iPhonelessness for us Verizoneers has been a difficult one. But there is hope that we will see the light of day soon enough. Not long ago, Apple ordered a large amount of chipsets that would be needed to make a CDMA version of its iPhone. There really is no other reason why it would need to order these. I’d say this is pretty likely, and I will be first in line to get one if it’s announced.

[John Gruber does a really great writeup on this over at his blog, Daring Fireball]

New iPod Touch/Nano/Shuffle

The September Apple event is traditionally an iPod event, so these are the most likely to happen.

The Touch is rumored to get the faster A4 processor already in the iPhone 4, as well as front and back facing cameras. This will also allow facetime phone calls.

The Nano and Shuffle rumors actually collide as the little bit of information we do have does not clearly spell out what will happen. Here’s the main image we have to go on:

The image is purportedly new cases for the upcoming iPod Touch, as well as a new device with a square form factor. It could be a new iPod Nano, a new Shuffle, or even a new device altogether. My money is on this being the new Shuffle, with a touch interface, and minimal app store functionality. Here’s a designer’s mockup of the possibility:

So what do you think of all this? Let me know in the comments!

So what is hypertext you ask? Well, have you ever used the internet? If so, then you’ve encountered hypertext. All web pages are made up of the stuff, and most people don’t even realize it.

Hypertext is text that references – or hyperlinks – other text or data. Any link you see on a webpage is an example of hypertext. (Go ahead, click all of those.) Images, youtube videos, flash games, even that wonderful email from your mom informing you about your aunt’s gout, they all utilize hypertext to get data from one place to another.

But Ted Nelson’s hypertextual world was much different than the one we live in today. Ted dreamed of a system that allowed both content creators and content consumers to utilize and enjoy information seamlessly, and to be able to track changes, and attribute credit where credit is due.

The system was far ahead of its time, and paved the way for what we now call the internet, but sadly, Nelson’s original idea has still yet to come to fruition.

Nelson’s life is so full of unfinished projects that it might fairly be said to be built from them, much as lace is built from holes or Philip Johnson’s glass house from windows. He has written an unfinished autobiography and produced an unfinished film. His houseboat in the San Francisco Bay is full of incomplete notes and unsigned letters. He founded a video-editing business, but has not yet seen it through to profitability. He has been at work on an overarching philosophy of everything called General Schematics, but the text remains in thousands of pieces, scattered on sheets of paper, file cards, and sticky notes. [via Wired]

So it is only natural that this, his greatest project, remains unfinished.

But, there is still hope. Through the versatility of our current hypertext system – the World Wide Web – companies have begun to see the light that Nelson ignited more than 50 years ago. Google, a champion of new and creative internet technologies (or at least a champion of buying companies that have new and creative ideas), has been experimenting with similar systems for the same purposes. Google Docs was their first foray into the docuverse (Nelson’s term, not mine), which allowed users to share any documents made within the browser based software, and then collaborate together to create the document, all the while tracking any changes made and attributing them to their authors. And even more recently, Google released Wave, an even more direct realization of Nelson’s dream. Due to an overcomplicated user interface and lack of instructions, it has since been announced that Wave will soon cease to be, but the takedown is not without its opponents. There was a very low adoption rate from the general public, but the scientific and technology community utilized it heavily. To them, the usefulness of collaboration and tracking of edits was indispensable.

While Wave’s future is yet to be determined, perhaps with the interest in a collaborative system like it, this would be a perfect time for Ted Nelson to once again innovate. And hopefully he will finish it this time.

I leave you with a video of Nelson explaining his philosophy on computing. If you’ve got eight minutes, I highly recommend it.

Growing up in a small town has an eerie way of keeping your dreams subdued to the point of monotony. Once I graduated High School, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. But, it was expected of me that I attend college, so I applied at the local state college and was accepted. I went through 5 different majors in my 3 years there. In chronological order: Computer Science, Information Systems, Marketing, Entrepreneurship, and Art/Music.

I spent my longest time in the Entrepreneurship program, but that’s when I finally realized that my real dream was to pursue something in music. I’d somehow managed to keep those thoughts in my subconscious for so long, that I’d almost forgot about it. I quit school and began looking elsewhere.

I had no idea where to go with music, but I knew my future was there somewhere. I ran across a band called Black Eyes (that has ever since been my favorite band), and a YouTube video of them in the studio.

I’d never seen what went on inside a recording studio, and I immediately fell in love. Just the thought of messing around with a bunch of cool people and helping them to make cool music enticed me to no end.

So, I did my research, toured IPR, and the rest is history. Until attending IPR, I’d never in my life enjoyed learning anything. IPR and the people here have changed my life. Thanks ya’ll.

According to our delightfully smug friends at Pitchfork, Sufjan Stevens has begun work on a forthcoming LP. In the blurb, they cite an interview with Bryce Dessner – a member of the National – who is playing on the record:

…when asked if the new material sounded like Stevens’s older records, Dessner offered a resounding “no.”

So that got me thinking. Just where could Sufjan be headed on this new musical journey of his? Here are two directions I would definitely like to see more of:

There’s Too Much Love – Sufjan Stevens
This is actually a song Stevens has been playing live recently, so there’s a good chance it’ll be on the new record.

In the Words of the Governor – Sufjan Stevens
There’s less of a chance he’ll go this direction, but man oh man is this song great. It appeared on a compilation album called “Cue the Bugle Turbulent” for Believer magazine’s 2007 compilation disc. Sufjan needs to start a punk side project. This is fantastic.

I’ll begin posting tips as early as next week. I haven’t yet decided on a topic for my first post, and I’m open to suggestions. So, if you’ve got anything you’d like to know more about, leave me a comment with a good topic!

You see this poster? It never happens in the movie.

“The Happening” has just been added to my list of the worst movies ever. Horrible script, horrible acting, horrible cinematography, and a horrible plot combine to form the worst movie I’ve seen since “The DaVinci Code.”

Part of what made the movie so bad was all the potential it had. Mark Wahlberg is a great actor, Zooey Deschanel is pretty good, and John Leguizamo is decent as well, but Shyamalan seems to have brought out the worst in all of them. I seriously wonder if any of the actors argued with Shyamalan about how unrealistic the script was. Or at least thought about it in their heads.

And what disappoints me is that Roger Ebert gave it a fairly positive review. I’ve lost a lot of respect for that man.

===========

T H E  N O R N S

by: I S A A C  H A L V O R S O N

Murder was easier than he had expected. Blood and puss oozed from the two small wounds near Raul’s ankle, forming a puddle on the hard wood floor. The smell mixed with the fresh fabric softener from the bed spread to create a sickening contrast.

After the bite, Raul had stumbled and fallen. He ended up sitting in the corner made where his bed met the wall behind it. The snake had slithered out of sight underneath the dresser in the corner.

The sun was setting outside, and the yellow light streamed in, creating a beam through the dusty air. The room was fancily decorated. The bed was against the wall farthest from the door, and there was a large dresser with a mirror on top to the right of the bed. Next to that was a large leather easy chair. Everything in the room was antique, except for the chair which looked almost new.

Raul began to look around the room. His breathing became heavy. He looked up at Jack, “I knew you were coming you know. I didn’t know when exactly, but I knew you were coming.”

Jack stared emotionlessly down at Raul. Jack’s eyes squinted slightly as Raul stammered on.

“I don’t blame you. I don’t. I’ve been in this business long enough to know. You’re just doing your job.” It was becoming harder for Raul to breath. He had to force each breath in and out . “I don’t blame you. I don’t bla…. Who hired you?”

Jack turned toward the bed. He closed his briefcase, picked it up and let it rest at his side. “I’m not allowed to tell you that.”

“I’m dying! I’m…” He swallowed, “I’m dying… There’s no harm in telling a dying man who killed him.”
Jack knew the rules, but Raul was right, there was no harm in telling him. He let out a long sigh, “Francis Templeton.”

Raul let out a soft chuckle, “Templeton eh? He never did like me much. How much did he pay you?”

“Twenty five.”

“I didn’t know I was worth that much to him,” He coughed into his fist. “I don’t have much time. I can feel my mind going.” He looked off into the distance, letting his eyes relax out of focus.

Jack cleared his throat. He tried to think of something appropriate to say, but nothing came to mind. He walked to the large leather chair near the dresser. He sat down and waited. The chair was less comfortable than it appeared, but he had to stay and make sure Raul died. Jack crossed his legs at the ankles and moved his foot to an imaginary rhythm.

Raul began to sweat profusely. His breathing became manic and came in short bursts. He jerked his head upward to face the ceiling, “Tell Templeton… Tell Templeton I’m not sorry.” He let out his dying breath and his entire body relaxed. His head still looked upward with his mouth completely open.

Jack looked at the body for some time, thinking. “That was disturbing.”

He put his hands on the arms of the chair to stand up when he felt a sharp pain in his foot. He looked down to see the snake’s mouth wrapped around his shoe. The fangs had punctured the leather and gone deep into the top of his foot. He let out a grunt and relaxed back into the chair.

He looked at Raul’s body. His head had relaxed into a forward facing position, eyes looking directly at Jack. Raul’s body slowly tilted to the side and slumped onto the ground. His head made a thud as it hit the ground.

- = -

“Captain. Enemies off the starboard bow. We can’t out run them at our current power levels.” First officer Poole tried to clear the smoke from the cockpit with his hand, waving it side to side in front of his face. “What are we going to do?”

Captain Frank Bowman’s eyes were fixated on the situation outside. Only small portions of open space were visible between the asteroids that filled the viewer.

“Don’t you worry Poole, I’ve got a little trick up my sleeve. Something the Klornon’s don’t even know about. Remember that-” Frank’s speech was cut off as he jerked the controls to the right to dodge a particularly large asteroid. “That was close…”

“Remember that Lorvian artifact we picked up back on Setil-6?”

“Yes captain, but we still don’t know what it does.”

“You’re wrong there. Activate it.”

“But captain… we don’t know what will happen…”

“Poole, punch it.”

Poole paused and looked at Frank. Frank’s gaze never left the asteroids in front of him. Poole cringed as he pressed the yellow button, and…

The conclusion to Blast! vol. 9 will appear in next months episode. Will Captain Bowman and First Officer Poole make it out of their adventure alive? Or will the evil Klornon’s triumph? You’ll have to wait and see…

Bobby got up from the park bench and slipped last months issue of Blast! into the plastic sleeve. He unzipped his back pack, and slipped the comic carefully inside. Bobby looked down the sidewalk to see Shane riding toward him on his new bicycle.

The sun had just risen minutes ago, and there was still a slight mist in the air. In the park where Bobby waited, the fresh smell of dew was heavy, and the crickets were just finishing the night’s symphony.

Bobby took a deep breath through his nose and exhaled. “This is going to be sweet.”

Shane rode up to Bobby and skidded to a stop less than a foot from his feet. “This bike is so awesome.” The bike was entirely black, no chrome to be seen. The parts all seemed to blend together to create one uniform object. It had a hard racing style seat, and pegs on all four wheels.

Bobby looked at his watch, “Right on time Shane, great job,” He looked down the sidewalk, the opposite way Shane had come from, “Let’s go.”

Bobby climbed onto the back pegs of the bicycle, and put his hands on Shane’s shoulders. “Hold on a sec.” Bobby said. He slid his back pack around his side, and zipped it back up. “That could’ve been bad. You ready now?”

“Yep.”

They rode in silence for most of the journey. Past River Rock high school, past old man Kritel’s house, past the alley where Jimmy got beat up last month. Once they got within three blocks, Shane spoke up. ”Almost there. I’m so pumped.”

“Me too. I’ve been waiting a whole month for this.” Bobby tilted his body to the right, hoping to see if there was a line.

Shane swerved to the right, correcting for Bobby’s weight shifting, “Hey, stop that. You gotta balance with me or we’ll tip over.”

“Do you think Poole and Bowman make it out of that asteroid field?” Bobby said.

“Well yeah, it wouldn’t be a very good comic strip if the main characters died. What I’m wondering is what that alien artifact thing is going to do.”

“I’ll bet it’s like a reverse tractor beam. It’ll shove all the asteroids and the Klormon ships away from their ship. And then they’ll just speed off at light speed!”

“That’d be sweet.”

They rounded the last corner.

Bobby looked up. His eyes widened as his mouth dropped in shock. “Shane, stop.”

“Why? We’re almost there.”

“Look.” Bobby pointed ahead. There was a dark pillar of smoke rising from the store on the corner. Shane stopped the bicycle, and Bobby stepped off.

A red circle of fire trucks surrounded the building, spewing water in a vain attempt to stem the flames. The building was nearly gone already, and the firemen were attempting to stop the fire from spreading to the neighboring structures.

“Wha… we…. is that…” Shane stammered.

“C’mon, let’s get closer.”

They ran up and joined the crowd that was slowly forming around the blaze. The acrid smell of burning paper and ink filled the air. Bobby looked at the dark green sign, Parker’s Comics and Collectables it read. Just then, it fell off the supporting beams holding it high above the store, and crashed onto the sidewalk making a loud thud. The metal on cement made a high pitched squeal as it slid away from the building.
Bobby stood emotionless as Shane stammered on.

“Come on Shane. Let’s go home.”

- = -

“I start to walk back to the car, probably to call my dad or something, when I notice a little hole start to form in the ground about five feet from me. I stop walking and look at the hole. Then this… thing starts rising from the hole. It’s… It’s like the top of periscope, like on a submarine, but it has a speaker on it where normally you would look through it. It rises out of the ground, and stops about four feet high. Then it turns towards me so the speaker is facing directly at me.

“The periscope speaker starts speaking. It’s calm, a woman’s voice. It starts saying the ABC’s. A, B, C, D, you know. I just stand there and listen. Then, when it gets to about L or so, it starts getting angry. I don’t know why, but it’s mad. By the time it gets to Q, it’s screaming the letters at me. It’s furious. I turn and run in the other direction as fast as I can.

“Then it gets to the end, it says Z, and I wake up. I’ve never made it past Z before.”

After Frank finished his story, Dr. Parkins wrapped his hand around his chin and squinted his eyes. He sat in a leather chair with his legs crossed. He was holding a clip board with a notebook in it in his right hand. He looked down at his notes, then at the patient sitting across from him, then back at his notes again. He breathed in and let out a sigh.

“Just so I’m sure Frank, you’ve been having all three of these dreams? Repeatedly?”

“Yes. I don’t have them all every night, but I always have at least one of them. It’s really disturbing. They all end so horribly.”

Frank sat on a leather couch directly opposite the doctor. He was leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, his left hand closed around his right. He tapped his right foot repeatedly on the detailed rug beneath them, creating a low thumping noise. Like a metronome, it kept the session moving right along.

“Doctor Parkins, I need to know if this is something to worry about. I wake up every morning confused and disturbed. I’m constantly worried about it, and I don’t know why. I’ll take medication, more sessions, whatever. I just need some peace of mind.”

Dr. Parkins glanced at the clock behind Frank. 5:48. He uncrossed his leg to replace it with the other, shifting his weight to make up for the change in body position. He grabbed a pen out of his shirt pocket. It was green, meant to look like marble, with a golden clip. He pretended to write something on the paper, and then looked right at Frank.

“Frank, our dreams only mean as much to us as we want them to. Dreams are a mental phenomenon, and our minds and the world around us can only be affected by them if we let them. My suggestion is that you try to forget about them. I know that can be hard, but it is possible. Take a couple days off of work and just relax. I’m sure it will help.”

“You want me to just forget about them? It’s not that easy doc, I can’t just forget them. And if I relax and fall asleep, I’ll just have them again.” He extended his hands, palms up, toward the doctor, “Please, you’ve got to do something.”

Dr. Parkins sighed once again, and looked directly at Frank, “Frank, I’m telling you. You’re going to be fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. But if you do still have problems, give me a call and we can set up another meeting.”

Frank leaned back in the sofa and let out a long sigh. He looked behind Dr. Parkins at the many plaques and framed certificates on the wall. Pushing against his knees with his hands, he stood up. ”I hope you’re right.”

He turned and walked toward the door. Seeing a bowl of chocolates, he turned back around, “Can I have one of these?”

Dr. Parkins looked up from his notebook, “Oh yes, of course.”

“Thanks,” Frank grabbed a chocolate, and walked out the door.

Dr. Parkins twisted his pen open and crossed out Frank Salta.

Dr. Parkins arrived at his apartment at 7:26. The smell of new leather greeted him as he walked inside. He closed the door, and hung his jacket on the coat hanger to the left. After slipping off his shoes, he walked directly to the stereo system. He turned the dial to 95.7, the local jazz station.

From the speakers came the sound of a man’s voice, “…tuning into 95.7. We play jazz all day, every day, so you can feel cooler than you really, are all the time. Coming up next, we’ve got…”

Dr. Parkins sighed and turned off the radio. He looked down and shook his head slightly.

He walked to the nearby couch, and sat with a crunch on the premium leather. He looked around his living room. The blinds were closed and the only light came from the kitchen behind him. In the dim light, there was almost no definition between the brown carpet and the like colored walls. The lighter brown furniture and end tables made large shadows on the wall.

He grabbed the remote that was next to him on the couch, and turned on the television. He pressed 2 and 6. The local news was on with a special report.

“…you, live from Pendleton Groves shopping mall where seven people have been shot. Current reports say they are two children and five adults,”

Dr. Parkins shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He reached for the remote to turn off the television, but stopped as an image appeared on the screen.

“…word that police say this man, Frank Salta, is the shooter. He is 37, approximately five foot nine inches tall, and 200 pounds. We’ve also just been told that… this is just horrible, he shot and killed his family before coming to the shopping mall,”

Dr. Parkins sat frozen with the remote still in his hand.

“…know any information about Frank Salta, please call 911 and tell the operator what you know.”

Dr. Parkins turned to look at his phone on the end table to his right. He turned back toward the television, and stared at the wall behind it. He set the remote back down where it had been. He stood up, walked over to his balcony, and opened both doors. A gust of air blew into the room, pushing back his hair. He closed his eyes and smiled as he breathed in the crisp fall air.

“Yep.”

He walked onto the balcony, and continued to the sidewalk below, landing with a wet thud.

E N D

Enjoy.

-=-=-

“All along the watchtower,”Jimi screamed into the microphone. Bob stared from the audience, watching in disgust. Crowds thronged around the stage as Jimi performed, but Bob remained unmoved.

“Damn,” Bob muttered, “that was my song.” Everyone in his vicinity glanced in his direction.

“Fuckin’ a dude, that’s not your song.”

Gathering his wits, Bob turned to the hippie who dared question him. ”How many roads must a man walk down,” Bob snarled as he punched the flower child right in his drug-induced face. Ironically, this hippie was actually Kenny Loggins of the super-duo Loggins & Messina, and this event would inspire him to form the band.

Jimi removed his acid-soaked headband and threw it into the audience as he walked off stage. Kool cigarette in hand, Bob made his way through the crowd. Leather-clad security guards approached Bob as he moved backstage.

“Move it or lose it buddy; who do you think you are?”

“Name’s Dylan,” a drag from the cigarette, “Bob Dylan.”

“Oh…” the two guards stumbled over their words and their feet as they backed away.

“People got barely enough skin to cover their bones.” Quick as a whip, Bob was inside Jimi’s dressing room.

“Realize just what I did hear; didn’t realize how young you were,” Bob said.

Smiling, Jimi looked up, blowing smoke from his mouth and coughing out, “the clouds are really low, and they overflow.”

“They say that you’re planning to put me down.”

“Ugh, I won’t do you no harm.” Very faintly, Bob heard the crowd chanting Jimi’s name.

“Wind’s beginning to howl Bob, all along the watchtower.”

“‘Xactly what I was thinking.” Yanking out his harmonica, Bob shoved it down Jimi’s throat, and Jimi choked on his own vomit as he fell to the floor.

Zimmerman, Robert A.: don’t forget that name.

-=-=-

If we hadn’t been constrained by the alphabet rule, we planned a different ending. In it, the tones produced by Jimi’s gurgling and puking flowing through the harmonica inspired Bob to write Like a Rolling Stone. We liked that ending much better.

-Bret Michaels
-Lead singer of the rock band Poison.
-Author of Between a Rose and a Thorn

-Shia LaBeouf
-Actor in such movies as The Even Stevens Movie, Dirsturbia, and Transformers
-Favorite books: Anything by R.L. Stine

-Oprah Winfrey

-Host of the popular television talk show The Oprah Winfrey Show
-Favorite books include The Grapes of Wrath, The Bluest Eye, and Sula

I had the opportunity to follow these famous people around as they attended some of the Writers’ conference events at the University of North Dakota this past week. They attended two sessions with Peter Kuper, the opening session with Salman Rushdie, and the first panel discussion with Salman Rushdie, Peter Kuper, and Alexandra Fuller. I asked each person the same questions, so I will present the question first, followed by each of their answers.

=-=-=-=

Isaac: You all went to two of Peter Kuper’s talks, so it’s obvious that you must really like his work. Could you elaborate on what it is that you like most?

Bret Michaels: Someone told me that he once drew a naked chick. I asked him about it during his talk, but everyone just laughed for some reason. I still haven’t seen the naked chick.

Shia LaBeouf: Oh man, I love comics! They’re so cool! My favorite one is The Adventures of Super Mega Smash-A-Lot and the Revengers Crüe! There are always really cool explosions, and super cool bad guys! And sometimes there are robots too! Mr. Kuper’s stuff wasn’t very good though. I didn’t understand them at all. They weren’t even funny or awesome. But one of them was about a bug, and I was like ‘Ewe… gross… awesome…’

Oprah Winfrey: Peter Kuper is one of my favorite graphic novelists. His work is so deep and visceral that it really makes you think about who you are, and the country we live in. We’re in a world today that is constantly persecuting African Americans and women, and the people out there need to know that they can succeed too. Just look at me, I’m successful. And if you come to my next show, you might win a car!

I: Salman Rushdie is one of the most controversial writers of our time. After writing The Satanic Verses, Ayatollah Ruhollah, the supreme leader of Iran, issued a fatwa against him. Could you comment on this?

BM: This whole fatwa business is ridiculous. I’m just going to come out and say it: fat women can be just as hot as skinny ones. I’m not afraid to admit it. I’m sick of people like this Talla Holla guy portraying them as badder than others. It’s an injustice man.

SL: Hehe… fart-wa…

OW: Salman Rushdie is, and always has been, one of my favorite authors. His work is so interesting and commanding that it really makes you think about the person inside, and the country we’re a part of today. There are still people in this country that look down on African Americans and Women, and people need to know that they can be great just like me. Did I mention that all of Salman’s books are part of my Book Club collection?

I: What did you think of the selection of writers on the first panel that you attended?

BM: Dude that Alexandra chick was hot. I tried to flex my biceps a lot during the panel, and I swear she kept looking at me. Do you have her number?

SL: It got way to boring for me, so I played Gameboy. I finally beat Ultron on level 18!

OW: It was, in my opinion, the perfect panel. There was a woman on it, a black man, and Salman Rushdie. It was only fitting that they talked of revolution. In our world today, it’s good for women and African Americans to see that they can achieve their dreams. I know I did, and it was because I didn’t let the world intimidate me.

I: Peter Kuper actually isn’t black Oprah.

OW: Oh… Are you sure? (Pause) Well I really have to get going. It was nice talking to you.

=-=-=-=

I’m very glad I got the opportunity to interview these three distinguished, and very influential celebrities in such an intimate setting. I’ve only been able to share a portion of their comments here, but it was a worthwhile and fulfilling conversation.

Bret Michaels said that Alexandra Fuller was his favorite author of the week because she was “…the hottest.” He also said that he would like to get in touch with her about possibly helping him write his next book, tentatively titled Every Thorn Has Its Rose Baby.

Shia LaBeouf told me that he would like to write comics one day, and showed me some of his drawings. I must say, they had great potential. He is very good at drawing explosions, and he says his favorite thing to draw are tentacles. Big slimy tentacles. He said he approached Mr. Kuper, and asked him what his favorite super hero was. Peter said, “Kafka,” and walked away at a brisk pace.

When asked who her favorite author was, Oprah had this to say, “My favorite author would definitely be myself (chuckles). I’m writing a novel about myself. I call it a novelography. It’s a new type of book I invented.” Other than herself, Oprah said her favorite auther, Harriet Beecher Stowe, wasn’t present at the Writers’ Conference this year, and she was very disappointed that she didn’t attend. She was impressed that Salman Rushdie was well read enough to know about Stowe’s most famous work, Uncle Tom’s Cabin. She said, “I didn’t know many people knew about the book, and I’m really glad Salman did.”

Thank you to all my readers, and to Bret, Shia, and Oprah. I hope everyone enjoyed the writers conference as much as I did. Hopefully next year the authors that come will be a little less revolutionary, and be a little more hot, draw more explosions, and talk more about Oprah.