Bill Katz

In honor of my upcoming book signings in Richmond, I thought I'd finally write a blog entry on the Writers of the Future (WotF) contest and what it was like to attend the WotF workshops. Last August, my short story The Plastic Soul of a Note won grand prize in the 20th Writers of the Future Contest.

For those not familiar with it, WotF is the premiere contest for aspiring science fiction & fantasy writers.¹ Usually, whenever someone uses the word premiere, I wonder if it's just hyperbole, but in this case I've got supporting evidence. Exhibit number 1: there's no entry fee and an amazing collection of authors judge your work. My second quarter entry was judged by Algis Budrys, Yoji Kondo, Andre Norton, Jerry Pournelle and K.D. Wentworth. I don't know who awarded my grand prize from the four first place winners, but with judges like Anne McCaffrey, Kevin J Anderson, Frederick Pohl, Tim Powers, Robert Silverberg, and Gregory Benford, I felt pretty good :) Exhibit number 2: the prizes include airfare and limo ride to Hollywood, room at a posh hotel, week-long workshop run by luminaries in the SF&F; world, rooftop dinner, black-tie gala at the Beverly Hills Hotel, book signing at Borders Hollywood, a framed illustration inspired by your story, and massive acrylic trophies with embedded silver & gold pens. And a T-shirt. Anne McCaffrey threw in pens from her self-designed home Dragonhold-Underhill. No contest has a finer booty. (arrrr)

I think the week in Hollywood was one of the most positive experiences I've had because it was my first dip into an entirely different occupation, a glimpse at professional writers doing what they love.² The thirteen other winners were as varied as you could imagine. Among them were a boisterous, good-natured mailman from Oklahoma who could pass for an offensive lineman in the NFL; an ex-CIA officer forging a spy-fi niche; an advertising executive from LA; and a flutist & lead singer for a heavy-metal band. We were a diverse group with a shared desire to write professionally and hone our abilities. Even if the joy of winning WotF served as a lubricant to any typical social frictions, the camaraderie among our group was exceptional.

Several of the grown-up writers went out with us neo-pros. Excluding Tim Powers and Kathy Wentworth, our workshop instructors and professional guides, Sean Williams would get my vote as most friendly, which says a lot given how friendly everyone was. Most of our time was spent with Tim and Kathy in a business room at the Roosevelt Hotel. They gave us tips on writing — setting, characters, dialogue, research, plot, anecdotes on the profession.

One of our tasks during the workshop was writing a story in 24 hours. To gather ideas, we were told to get life stories from a stranger or two, so on one warm afternoon, we left the Roosevelt Hotel and searched for unsuspecting prey. I wandered into a large Hollywood mall adjacent to the Graumann Chinese Theater, which was mostly stocked with tourists. One gentleman, though, was sitting on a bench, people-watching. He was in his late sixties or seventies, in good shape, dressed fashionably. After sitting at the bench, I commented on some aspect of the mall, he responded, and we started a conversation that stretched to over an hour. The man, Paul Carmello, told me about his time as an Olympic boxer, stuntman, and apparent fixture in the Hollywood scene. During our talk, an actress in a Wonder Woman outfit stopped by and thanked him for setting up an audition. We talked about Hollywood in the old days, his work retraining Thai kickboxers to become Olympic boxers, his gym in Fresno. He asked me to wait, disappeared for ten minutes, and came back with an old publicity photo of him in a boxing pose and a CD he had just cut featuring a professional signer and Paul's music & lyrics. When I got back to the hotel room, I listened to the CD, the song "City of Angels: I'll Never Say Goodbye", thinking what a strange and wonderful time this was.

Three of the 24-hour stories were (randomly?) selected for review by the class, and I was really impressed with each of them as well as the excellent critiques given by the winners. In addition to the workshop instruction and critiquing led by Kathy and Tim, we had a full slate of guest lecturers -- Anne McCaffrey, Jerry Pournelle, Locus editor-in-chief Charles Brown, Eric Kotani (a humble astrophysicist who just happens to be an expert martial artist), Catherine Assaro, Kevin J Anderson, Rebecca Moesta, and other notables.

The main event of the week was the black-tie gala at the Beverly Hills Hotel, which felt like a mini Academy Awards. There were fittings, a rehearsal, makeup, limos to the red carpet, and the expectation of finally seeing your words in print. During the dinner, I couldn't eat much of the fine cuisine that crossed my plate. I was nervous, not only because I was one of four people up for the grand prize, but because each winner has to make a short acceptance speech.

Although I've given scientific talks in front of large crowds, the audience at the gala wasn't the usual mix of doctors and techno-geeks. These were writers and actors and musicians. I couldn't relax until Chick Corea played a set from his To The Stars CD; it's true what music does to the savage beast.

The whole evening built up to the announcement of the grand prize, and when Anne McCaffrey announced the award went to "William L Katz," my first thought was "hey, my middle initial is a T", and then I realized I actually won the grand prize despite my pre-event calculation placing the odds at 15% (1 in 4 = 25% minus 10% after seeing how well the other first place winners wrote in workshop). I remember my wife and brother screaming and jumping up and down as I tried to find a path to the podium. Once I made it to the stage, I looked back out at the crowd, thinking oh my god, I've got to do another acceptance speech.

When the ceremony ended, I was moved from place to place for pictures. Smile Bill. Look this way Bill. I stood at center stage with Laura Diehl, the grand prize illustrator, for group shots with the panel of judges and all the winners. Then I was whisked out to the lobby where a large table and a mountain of our newly printed books stood waiting. Almost immediately, I had a pen thrust in my hand and a request to sign a book. I started feeling the shock from my grand prize win, the gnawing in my stomach from too little food, the distraction of Sophia Milos on my right and an Italian photographer on my left. And I hadn't thought of a signing blurb, the little phrase that you jot down before your signature. I looked at the smiling face of the writer in front of me and I didn't immediately recognize him. My brain froze, I started to panic. Instead of simply saying "and how would you like this addressed?" or some other name-revealing question, in my mind-numbed state I asked "Mr. Sawyer?"

"Kevin," he said politely, and I realized that in my first sixty seconds of being published, I'd made a faux pas deluxe. "Oh, terribly sorry Mr. Anderson," I said to the man who had given us an excellent talk during the workshop and had 32 of his novels on national bestseller lists. In the following minutes, Nina Kiriki Hoffman explained the proper way of signing. I began to ask "May I personalize this?" and created a too-long-for-prime-time blurb that accompanied my signature. By the end of the evening, I was transformed from nervous unpublished tech guy to nervous hungry published writer with a hand cramp.

The book signing at Borders Hollywood the next morning was a pleasant affair. No speeches or anxiety, just a long line of people waiting to get their books signed by the dozens of WotF winners, judges, and alumni sitting at tables arranged in a long "U". I had the pleasure of sitting next to Jo Beverley, a past WotF winner and current bestselling author of historical romances. Jo sat behind a hill of books, a small selection from her 20+ novels, while I proudly looked out behind a half-dozen of the newly printed WotF anthology and the shiny grand prize obelisk.

Since returning from the Writers of the Future workshop, I've had two local book signings with six more scheduled over the next two months. I joined the Codex Writing Group, which is home to a few of the writers from my Wotf class, and I'm slowly working on writing, revising, and submitting four short stories. The techno-thriller novel will have to wait until I get Writertopia running. When an aspiring writer asks me about Writers of the Future, I can only respond with enthusiastic encouragement to enter every quarter and use it as a motivator. It's a great contest and a wonderful experience.

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¹ Entrants can't have professionally published a novel or more than three short stories, where "professionally" means you got paid and more than 5,000 copies were distributed.

² Before heading out to L.A., I had no idea what to expect. I visited web pages from past winners (Luc Reid, David Levine, and others).