I'm a writer, publishing both as SJ Rozan and, with Carlos Dews, as Sam Cabot. (I'm Sam, he's Cabot.) Here you can find links to my almost-daily blog posts, including the Saturday haiku I've been doing for years. BUT the blog itself has moved to my website. If you go on over there you can subscribe and you'll never miss a post. (Miss a post! A scary thought!) Also, I'll be teaching a writing workshop in Italy this summer -- come join us!
Read/Post Comments (3)
Shanghai, post #1
Lots and lots to tell you guys about Shanghai, and it's coming, but here's the major scoop: I'm the Champ!
That's me, correct, me, wearing the Literary Death Match, Shanghai, Episode 1 Champion's Medal on account of I was the Champion! And a hard-fought battle it was, I can tell you. Round One, readings, judged very closely by an eminent panel. Those few, those brave, who make it to Round Two, participate with teams of audience members in a match the subject of which is kept top secret until it occurs. Sometimes, apparently, it has to do with jello missiles, so I consider myself lucky: in this, the inaugural Shanghai Literary Death Match, the finals consisted of slides which each team had to race to be first (ring that bell!) to choose "poet" or "madman," with extra points given if someone on the team could actually identify which poet or madman it was. My team of Shanghai-dwelling expats was stellar; we barely squeaked by Jenn Chan Lyman's equally brilliant team.
(Extra points if you can identify the slide in the background. Spoiler alert: the Literary Death Match site does.)
So now I'm a Literary Death Match Champion, and if you think that's not going on my resume, you are SO wrong.
That's me, correct, me, wearing the Literary Death Match, Shanghai, Episode 1 Champion's Medal on account of I was the Champion! And a hard-fought battle it was, I can tell you. Round One, readings, judged very closely by an eminent panel. Those few, those brave, who make it to Round Two, participate with teams of audience members in a match the subject of which is kept top secret until it occurs. Sometimes, apparently, it has to do with jello missiles, so I consider myself lucky: in this, the inaugural Shanghai Literary Death Match, the finals consisted of slides which each team had to race to be first (ring that bell!) to choose "poet" or "madman," with extra points given if someone on the team could actually identify which poet or madman it was. My team of Shanghai-dwelling expats was stellar; we barely squeaked by Jenn Chan Lyman's equally brilliant team.
(Extra points if you can identify the slide in the background. Spoiler alert: the Literary Death Match site does.)
So now I'm a Literary Death Match Champion, and if you think that's not going on my resume, you are SO wrong.
Read/Post Comments (3)
Previous Entry :: Next Entry
Back to Top
