Matthew Wayne Selznick

Just in the last month or so, I’ve reconnected with several folks I haven’t heard from since elementary and high school. This has been a special pleasure — a real treat. I realized I should catch these people up on what’s been going on with me for the last twenty to thirty years… and then I recognized that this is probably going to keep happening, so why not do it once, here?

So… my family left Glendora for Mission Viejo in… 1978? I got there in time for sixth grade. I don’t recall much, except for having a crush on the little red-headed girl (Charlie Brown, much?) and experiencing the effects of one of my best friend’s parents’ divorce (he had to move away.) Junior high school was interesting — I broke both of my wrists (at the same time) and so spent a good part of one semester with casts on both arms. Awesome.

In the summer of 1981, between junior high and high school, my friend Matt Maxwell and I collaborated on a “novel” called “Devastator.” It took everything we loved about comic books and science fiction and, well, smeared it with fourteen-year-old enthusiasm and inexperience. Somewhere, I still have my copy. Matt has threatened to kill me if it ever sees the light of day. Fair enough… but the baby universe we created with that manuscript has expanded to influence a whole lot of my creative output since then. These days, Matt is actually in the comics industry, and I’ve written a novel and a bunch of other stuff.

High school… I went to Capistrano Valley High from 1981 - 1985. I remember Karen Wynn (journalism, yearbook, photography) and Paul Pfleuger (contemporary world problems) as my favorite, most positively influential teachers. I started playing bass guitar in high school, when I was sixteen, and picked up the acoustic guitar two years later. Me and my friends talked a lot about starting bands, but nothing serious ever happened until the tail end of my senior year, when me and Roger Huff started up an acoustic duo that had many names and incarnations over the next few years.

Of all my friends from high school, I still keep track of my best friend (though we are rarely in direct contact despite the fact that we have very similar interests and passions) and my longest steady girlfriend. Through the magic of blogs and other threads, we can trace each other’s lives even if we rarely get in touch. It’s comforting to know they’re out there, though.

My first job out of high school was at the Tower Records in El Toro at El Toro Road and Rockfield. I worked in the video department for a year and a half. That was an eye-opening experience. I met many people who would be very important in my life for years and years to come — people who, through the lines of connection hindsight gives us, truly changed my life. I go into that in more detail here. It’s enough for now to say that the eighteen or so months there went a very long way to making me the person I am today.

In the late eighties, I had played my first live gigs in real bands. Psychopathway was the first, with Theresa Copell, Tony Lekas, and Steve Harvey. We played around San Clemente, San Juan Capistrano, Doheney Beach, and a couple of parties in Los Angeles and Davis. I played bass and shared vocals and songwriting duties with Steve and Theresa. After that came Loveless with Gus Contreras, Kyle Hall, and Marco Solferino. We played pretty much all the same places Psychopathway did, plus the occasional gig in Costa Mesa and Anaheim. I played the legendary Linda’s Doll Hut while I was with Loveless, a place I would play many more times with other bands.

In the late eighties, I moved a lot, had a steady string of relationships, a series of jobs (mostly retail), partied a lot, played a lot of music, and lived several movies I have yet to write. In other words, I was in my early twenties.

In between bands, I played a lot of solo acoustic shows — singer / songwriter stuff. I also wrote, here and there, but didn’t have much discipline for it. I enjoyed creating the settings — what’s known as worldbuilding — more than the actual writing. I recognize it now as a form of procrastination, which is another name for not wanting to face the possibility of failure. Still, I was very creative in those days, if scattered.

At the beginning of the nineties, I met the woman who would become my first wife. We married in 1995. She was a good friend, but I think we both came into things with far too much baggage and I, for one, was not mature enough to properly deal with it all. It’s a long story, of course, but we separated in October of 1999 and were divorced by August of 2000.

From 1995 to 2005, I worked for Borders, a worldwide chain of book, music, and media superstores. It was, overall, a very positive experience. While they are a dying company as I write this, in the late nineties it was an amazing place to work — open, ambitious, and compassionate as a corporate culture can be. I wouldn’t take back the time I spent there for anything.

Music kept happening in the nineties. From about 1993 - 1995, I was in a band I formed that, to date, was my most satisfying creative experience. Called PIGBAT, it was a power trio featuring drummer Jon Strunk and guitarist Kris Shine. I played bass, sang, and wrote most of the songs — though it was, musically, a very collaborative effort. Our drummer left to take a job offer in San Francisco, and while we continued briefly with a different drummer (Jeff Senske, now with Bright Men of Learning) it just didn’t last. I played dozens and dozens of acoustic solo gigs, formed two short-lived duos (Widdershins and Wednesday In The Barrel) and, toward the end of the century, joined with Gary Fitch, Erin Foster, and Tony Dare to form the power-pop Running Erin. Running Erin lasted until 2002 or or so.

The Internet, you will recall, happened in the nineties, too. I think I first got online in 1996 or so. I remember exploring Gopher and using the Mosaic browser, if that gives you some idea. Webcrawler was the search engine everyone swore by. I was entranced by the whole thing.

In 1998, I read a particularly bad tie-in novel featuring Marvel Comics’ X-Men characters. Now, as mentioned above, I’m a long-time fan of the comics, but this book was just… so… very… bad. I told myself I could do better, and set about planning a universe of my own wherein I could tell super-hero stories. Gradually, the idea grew to become a web-based magazine called Sovereign Serials. From 1998 until 2002, with varying regularity, I used Sovereign Serials to tell episodic stories set in the Sovereign Era, when “individuals with remarkable abilities change the course of human destiny..!” I also invited other authors to tell Sovereign Era stories in the magazine, and ran two or three.

By the end, I realized I had written more than sixty thousand words over the course of almost four years. I could have written a novel! I shelved the floundering Sovereign Serials to do just that. There were a few false starts. During this time, people wrote me to ask if I would ever finish the stories in Sovereign Serials — one story in particular. I began to write the book that would become my first novel, “Brave Men Run.”

In February of 2001, I married a second time. I know, that seems like tight timing, but we had known each other a few years, although not well, and had the occasion to spend a great deal of time together in a very short period of time. We fell in love — that’s how it happens sometimes..! We lived in her apartment in San Pedro for a time, and bought a house in Hesperia, a community in the High Desert of San Bernardino County in 2002. We’re here still, with our four cats, two dogs, and a turtle.

In 2004, driving “down the hill” to work in Pasadena, I heard an episode of Leo Laporte’s “The Tech Guy” call-in talk radio show. His guest was Adam Curry, and they were talking about this crazy new media thing called podcasting. I was inspired. In less than a week, on October 15th, I released the first episode of the MWS Media Radio Show. That podcast, now called the DIY Endeavors podcast, has had sixty five episodes to date. The first sixty were very nearly weekly. These days, I record one when the mood to create a mix tape of excellent independent music strikes me.

Podcasting is another one of those things that has changed my life in a major way. The people I’ve met, the things I’ve learned, the opportunities presented to me… let’s run down a few:

• When “Brave Men Run” was finished, I knew I would self-publish in keeping with the DIY ethic. I also decided to follow the example of the handful of people who put their books out as free podcasts. At the time, those people were Tee Morris, Scott Sigler, Mark Jeffrey, and Paul Story. “Brave Men Run” wasn’t the first podcast novel by any means, but I’m pretty sure it was among the first dozen. It’s been in two different top ten lists at Podiobooks.com perpetually since it came out, and donations from listeners — people who listen under no obligation to pay anything, mind you — have surpassed royalties from the print, e-book, and CD audiobook versions of the book.
• The day after Thanksgiving in 2005, I left Borders and embarked on fifteen months of promoting “Brave Men Run” and doing freelance work. I did some fiction editing, but my biggest clients wanted me to help them with their podcasting. While my first run at being a freelancer didn’t have long-term sustainability, if you will, it would have been a much shorter run if not for podcasting.
• I’ve become a recognized authority, which has led to speaking engagements at several conventions. I’ve been profiled in “Tricks of the Podcasting Masters” and on About.com , and interviewed on scores of podcasts and websites.
• Through my friendship with two podcasters, I was brought on at Mahalo.com , which is proving to be a challenging, enriching, and fun experience. We’re doing social search on the Internet in a way that hasn’t been done yet (or still.)
• The best thing podcasting has given me is a far-flung network of friends. Podcasting has given me my tribe, and that’s worth more than anything.

We’re pretty much caught up, folks. As I write this, I’m working at Mahalo.com, writing my second novel, “Pilgrimage,” and taking a hiatus from recording podcasts until the book is finished and ready to launch.

How are you? It’s very cool to hear from you again.

I haven’t been to the local library lately, but I needed to get out of the house and around people and I needed to write, so I visited today. Before I did anything, I checked out their little library bookstore, where hardcovers are a buck, paperbacks fifty cents, and magazines are a dime.

I checked out the new arrivals cart first, and promptly discovered a 1975 book club hardcover edition of L. Sprague deCamp and Fletcher Pratt’s “The Compleat Enchanter,” and a 1988 hardcover book club edition of Nobel Laureate Doris Lessing’s “The Fifth Child.”

Then. Then… I turned around, and saw a bunch of old issues of The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction (and one Analog.) I looked closer, and the dates started hitting me: August 1969… February 1975… June 1966…!

There were fourteen. I grabbed ‘em all. I got that chest-swelling, eight-year-old, Christmas morning feeling. I think I bounced up and down, a little. I might have said, “Hee..!!” very quietly (because I was in the library, where you’re still supposed to be quiet, y’know.)

I took the mags and the two books to the counter. I fully expected to be charged more for the magazines… I mean, they’re classics! Antiques! I would have paid more.

I paid $3.40 for everything. There wasn’t even tax.

I took ‘em out to my car, where I did, absolutely, let out as full-throated a “Squeeeee!!!!!!” as one can when exclaiming “Squeeeeee!!!!!”

Let’s look them over, shall we? I took this with my phone, so it’s not the best:

The oldest issue is June of 1966 and features “This Moment of the Storm” by Roger Zelazny, “The Pilgrims” by Jack Vance. It is stunning to me to hold an issue of a magazine that is 13 months older than I am.

The newest issue in an Analog from June of 1977 (”Star Wars” had just hit theaters and I was about to turn ten) — a “Special Women’s Issue” featuring “Eyes of Amber” by Joan D. Vinge, “Salamander” by Leigh Kennedy, and, though he is not a woman, part three of a serial, “After the Festival” by George R.R. Martin.

Between those two issues… oh, just check out some of this magic:

From April, 1970: The first publication of Fritz Leiber’s “Ill Met In Lankhmar.”

From October of 1970: the “All-Star 21st Anniversary Issue” — The second of Larry Niven’s Svetz stories, “A Bird In The Hand.” Very special to me, as I read it when I was probably nine or ten as part of a collection of Institute For Temporal Research stories called “The Flight of the Horse.”

From June of 1973: A Cthulhu Mythos story from Brian Lumley, “Haggopian,” and a poem from Ray Bradbury, “Old Ahab’s Friend.”

From February of 1975: John Varley’s “Retrograde Summer” and David Drake’s “Something Had To Be Done.”

From December 1975: Another of Lumley’s Lovecraftian tales, “Born of the Winds,” and Pamela Sargeant’s “Exile.”

From January 1976: “Friday the Thirteenth” by Isaac Asimov.

And something striking… so many stories by authors I’ve never heard of, who were only represented once, or twice, in those fourteen magazines. Where are they now? Did they continue to write? To publish?

If they didn’t — if that one appearance in a magazine thirty years or more in the past was their one shot — I feel privileged to be able to enjoy their work, still. I read it, they live on.

Many of these magazines still have the subscription label on the back cover. It’s an address here in Hesperia. Richard M. K******. My impulse is to write to him… but I fear he may be dead, and that’s how his treasures ended up for sale for a dime apiece at the local library. Would his relatives appreciate knowing how much these magazines mean to me? I’m not sure. I’m thinking of writing. I feel so much gratitude that these gems ended up in my hands, you know?

I’m going to enjoy reading these. Very much. What a lucky, happy thing.

Wow. Apart from a brief bit about a Husker Du song, it’s been a couple weeks, I think, since I wrote a proper blog post regarding what’s going on in my ever exciting life.

Longer, maybe.

Back on the 21st of March, I took a step away from my freelancer lifestyle (which wasn’t much of a lifestyle, actually) and returned to the last place I held a real job, Borders. I took the Training Supervisor position at the Rancho Cucamonga store. Sure, it had been fifteen months since I’d worked for Borders, but I have over a freakin’ decade of time with that company. I was a little rusty, but I can teach people how to sell books.

I took this job with a good (outward) attitude but a real (inward) feeling of stepping backwards. However, it was time… my wife has been essentially supporting the both of us, our cats, our dog, our turtle, etc. since December of 2006. Time to take the pressure off. And indeed, I fully expected to take on a salaried manager role at the store in a couple of months, meaning more money and very, very familiar territory. Do-job-in-sleep territory.

Happy to be back at Borders? Bittersweet. I liken it to moving back in with mom. You love your mother, but…

And then.

A friend of mine — a colleague, someone with whom I work on a mutual ongoing labor-of-love project — announced he’d be visiting California to meet with his new bosses. We agreed to meet for dinner one night while he was out here. Very pleased to meet face-to-face for the first time, and excited to break my routine, I very willingly made the ninety mile trek down to Los Angeles and met him and another mutual friend of ours. We went to dinner. Chatted about what was up in our lives.

My friends, it turns out, were working together on the same project. They were very excited about it, but since it wasn’t public yet, couldn’t really talk about it. Much. I think my own slightly glum attitude about my own state of affairs might have swayed them into revealing a bit more.

Before the night was over, I had a job offer with a new start up with solid backing and a lot of very familiar, very respected and like-minded people involved. In two days, I had a phone interview with one of the principles. It was a good chat — we share a commitment to the importance of service, and, I think, a desire to make an impact on the world. While no offer was made, he said he looked forward to working with me.

The offer came in another phone call fifteen minutes later. Boom.

I gave my boss at Borders a week’s notice. Short, yes — two weeks would have been better — but at that point, I hadn’t even worked there for two weeks. Frankly, I felt more of an obligation to not be an ass to my boss than I did to keep my good will with Borders. So they got a week. My boss understood. He might even be envious.

So. A day and a half left at Borders. After this, I’m never going back there. It is the past — a valuable piece of my development, and a huge chunk of my personal history… some of the most soap-operatic, to be sure. But it’s the past.

I start at the start-up-that-cannot-be-named on Monday the 16th. Eventually, I reckon I’ll be able to tell you more. Like when I know more, for example. And when I have permission to speak.

Meanwhile… all of this (a full time gig, a commute from Hesperia to Santa Monica) means that I will be cutting way, way back on my availability as a freelancer. My time is about to become very precious, and I still want to write another book one of these days, y’know? Not to mention the three podcasts… and a new one… one I’m very excited about.

Writers Talking debuts on April 21st. Check out the site; all the details are there. It’s new territory for me in several ways:

• The initial recording is live, in real time, with guests and phone-ins
• The podcast is monetized.
• Half the proceeds will go toward just about the bestest non-profit ever.

I really hope it turns into something amazing.

Then there’s con season. It’s creeping up mighty fast… in fact, Balticon 41 is just a month away. DragonCon is in August. New Media Expo is in September. I’m on panels at all of them, pretty much. Three weeks of time away from home (and away from the new job) in the next five months. Exciting… but will I be able to keep this pace next year? Hard to say. Hell, maybe I’ll have a new book to pimp next year. (said that last year….)

Hm. Time to go back to work. For another three and a half hours, and another seven hours tomorrow. Then, no more. Soon, new, new new stuff.

Oh… and I’m on Twitter now, ‘cuz I wanna be cool and I’m a sucker for the time sink. Be my friend. Follow me and I’ll follow you. (No more Phil Collins / Genesis quotes… probably ever… I promise.)

Words: 08-15-1999
Music: 08-15-1999

What’s It All About?

An important song for me… one I used to introduce as being about “irresistible risk.” It’s an imagined moment between two people: one is in love with the other; the other knows this but would much rather continue on without it being said. And then it is. And nothing will ever be the same — maybe even worse. But it had to be done.

An imagined moment… unlike the protagonist in the song, I never had the guts.

Musically, this song is huge tip of the hat to the stylings of Mister Declan MacManus — Elvis Costello — and so bears his name. It first saw the light of day during my time with the band Running Erin, and much of its popularity with fans of that band is due to the vocals of Erin Foster — I consider the live recording with that band (the first presented here) to be the definitive version.

The second version, solo acoustic, was recorded direct to hard drive in my office in Hesperia, California, in 2002.

Lyrics:

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 Elvis C. by Running Erin w Matthew Wayne Selznick (live) [4:04m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download (142)

 

 Elvis C. by Matthew Wayne Selznick (acoustic) [4:33m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download (130)

I think it must be time to report on PodCamp West, my first “unconference,” as well as my first opportunity to actually speak at one of these things!

I have to admit I went into this with a combination of anticipation and trepidation. The sessions — including the one I suggested — were confirmed, modified, and modified further seventy two hours before the event began.

What started as a talk called “Community, the DIY Ethic and Podcasting” transformed into a panel with myself, Chris Heuer, and Eric Rice called something like “Community Imperialism and DIY in Podcasting,” and finally ended up as a group conversation with Chris, me, and the audience with no real title. Communication between presenters and organizers was a little lacking, but I don’t really fault the organizers — the entire event went from conception to reality in about six or seven very crazy, crowded weeks. It all worked out okay. Lessons learned, all around.

I drove to PCW in a rented Mazda six-seat minivan thing because my Scion has 85,000 miles on it and didn’t need a thousand more, at least not before a tune up. It was the right decision, since my car is a manual and the Mazda thing was automatic (and had cruise control!) I enjoyed the drive, although it was longer than it should have been due to Friday evening traffic outside of San Francisco.

Before I got out of Los Angeles, I stopped at the home of Michael W. Dean, where I was treated to coffee, bagels, and a fun conversation that you can find on the next few episodes of Michael’s “Clone the Homeless” podcast. After knowing Michael virtually for more than a few years, I really enjoyed sitting down face to face. Thanks for the hospitality, Michael!

I got into town too late (I thought) to attend the pre-party at the Mint, turned in after some potstickers and mushu pork… and that brings us to Saturday morning and the beginning of the unconference.

Check out the Swedish American Hall, the 100-year-old building where the event took place. In the main auditorium, speakers had the distinct honor of planting their podcasting asses in giant wooden chairs carved from the thickest branches of Yggdrasil itself. I mean, these things were freakin’ thrones, set high above the audience. If you didn’t have one eye and twin ravens as shoulder pads, you didn’t belong in these chairs. Kinda took away from the “let’s all have a conversation” and “this is your conference” intention of the event, and organizer Vic Podcaster recognized that pretty quick. The thrones were retired by the middle of the day.

I had a nice conversation with Yukako “Tajee” Tajima before the event started. She’s trying to save the world with podcasting, which is something I could relate to, even if Japan’s ambassador of podcasting and I had a bit of trouble understanding each other.

During the “Up and Running With Podcasting” panel, which was good stuff for the newbies in the crowd, I was joined by one of my favorite people from the Podcast and Portable Media Expo, Cassandra, who was there with her partner in the Paradigm Girls podcast, Jenna. Small world that it is, both of these gals are pals with “Robots Robots Robots” creator Steve Smith, who has been an internet friend of mine for months. I’ll be voicing of one of the characters in Steve’s 3D cartoon, and it turns out Cassandra plays my sister!

Some of the other fine folks I met or connected with on Saturday and Sunday:

• Nolan Apostle of Event City Network — full of energy, openness, and great optimism, Nolan inspired a rapport with everyone he met, myself included.
• Tim Street of French Maid TV — I saw the first two episodes, and while they were fun, I am, after all, five years past the high end of their target demographic. All the same, Tim was good company with his dry humor, deadpan delivery, and Hollywood (by way of Pasadena) shades. We were both on the last panel of the weekend with Shahram Shokrian, Chris MacDonald, and Gini Nelson.
• Alex and Dean — the husbands from “Alex and Dean: Gay Men Talking” had some nice things to say about “Brave Men Run,” and we had a good conversation about how the story of an outsider teen finding his place resonates in the gay community as well.
• Sallie Goetsch — Tee Morris praises the head professor at the Podcast Asylum, and after the weekend, I can see why. Sallie is personable, bright, and a fun conversationalist. She’s squeezing into twenty hours a week everything I can’t manage to handle in fifty! The lesson’s not lost on me!
• Scott Simpson from iTunes — I liked him, we had fun, and he was open and willing to hear my criticisms of the iTunes music store. Even shares some of them!
• The Goza family from Act!vated Storytellers — Kimberly, Dennis, and Zephyr roam the earth telling stories… and podcast about it, too! If Zephyr could only utter a certain two-syllable word and transform into a superhero in his thirties, we’d have a seventies live-action Saturday morning kids’ show. Even without that, these three are doing admirable and, yes, even important work.
• Martin McKeay of the Network Security Blog — we met briefly during the Slice of SciFi recording at the Podcast and Portable Media Expo a month ago. It’s a testament to the social nature of these events that we could have a few conversations and interactions at PCW as if we had known each other for some time.
• Gini Nelson of the Engaging Conflicts Blog — I don’t know if all conflict management and mediation experts are like this, but Gini is so warm, open, and utterly delightful, it’s difficult to see how she ever finds any conflict to manage. Niceness expands from her like the soothing shadow of opened wings.
• Colette Vogele - Vogele and Associates. Absolutely my favorite lawyer ever — the fact that I don’t really know all that many lawyers does not diminish that statement, I promise. We met at the first Portable Media Expo, fairly briefly. Between then and an even more fleeting encounter at PPME 2006, we had a few interactions (mostly around her Podcasting Legal Guide) and I sensed a kindred spirit. Now, after some good conversation and camaraderie, I’m pleased to call her a friend. Her podcast is coming!
• There are others, of course: Brian McQueen of youSENDit; Chris Christensen from the Amateur Traveler; Fred Castaneda from Arriba!; Patrick Reilly of ipsociety… and the inevitable bunch I am forgetting or didn’t get cards from.

Of the sessions I attended, most didn’t really knock my socks off — in fact, there was quite a bit of ego and self-promotion in sessions that were supposed to be interactive conversations, especially from some of the so-called “veterans” of podcasting. This was on the first day, when the most people were there, and I gotta wonder if that’s why there were so many fewer people there on Sunday.

The exception was a product demo from Foneshow — a new service that provides podcasts for cell phones. Erik Schwartz was very open to suggestions and questions aimed at making his service better. As I sat there taking it in, the wheels started to turn. Look for a podcast from me specifically for a cell phone… in a month or so. It’s gonna be fun.

The session Chris Heuer and I led worked out great, I thought. We broke down the audience in two groups, and presented the following question to them: “Should we invest our time in helping other podcasters learn, and if so, why is it important?”

The answer pretty quickly was agreed to be “yes, and it’s important because this is citizen media, and the citizens who have been doing it for a while have a responsibility to serve as mentors for the newcomers.” We left the session with a pledge to each other: we would leave PodCamp West and “make a newbie;” in other words, we would introduce someone to podcasting and help them become podcasters.

To me, that was freakin’ mission accomplished for the weekend — remind people that it’s not all about what can I get out of podcasting. There’s a responsibility there, too, and answering that responsibility can only make the community, and the medium, stronger.

Right after that, I found myself jumping on a panel on marketing. I wanted to offer the DIY ethical perspective on marketing and emphasize the relationship between content creator and content consumer. So I went from never speaking at a conference to speaking on two panels for three hours. Next!

After-hours activities:

Saturday night, the club next to the hall was reserved for us from six to eight. I mostly hung out with Colette, Tim, Scott, and Nolan. Good fun… the place had… how to explain this? It had “club smell.” Not necessarily as bad as you might think: a slightly musty mix of humans, alcohol, vinyl seating, old carpet, and time. The scent brought back memories of the Doheney Saloon, the Doll Hut, and other venues from one of my former lives.

After it came time to vacate the club, Colette was kind enough to drive some of us to the 11th anniversary party for Laughing Squid, a production / web hosting company. The party was in a big warehouse / club structure, and featured marrow-dissolving bass and stage acts that made conversation and bonding difficult. I met people whose names I can’t recall, including someone from Pandora (I thanked him for creating the service), hung out with Scott, Tim, and Colette, and talked briefly again with Tajee. At one point, I discovered that the tiny Thai restaurant next door was open, so Colette and I got some grub. That was a good break from the mini-burning-man vibe.

The evening ended at a nice little bar with a grouchy bartender and a fresh, passionate young jazz combo. It was a great palate-cleanser. I wish to hell I had a place like the Revolution Cafe somewhere nearby. As the song says, “A steady place… to study and drink.” Good call, Colette.

Sunday night, after Chris Fisher showed me some excellent rough thumbnails for the cover of “Light of the Outsider,” she husband Henry treated me to my first real sushi in months. I first met Chris at the PPME a few months ago. We had some good conversation over dinner; very mellow and fun — a nice way to balance the alcohol and noise of the night before. Both were good in different ways!

And that was my PodCamp West. I got home in the early evening on Monday, tired and sore and… calm. There’s something about an eight hour drive that really puts a buffer on that post-conference enthusiasm!

So… take-aways?

• I’ve been inspired to do yet another podcasting project, this one tailored for the mobile phone user.
• I had some genuine, warm connections with people I respect and admire
• I committed to participating in another PodCamp… one a tad further south. Wait and see.
• I popped my conference-speaker cherry! As it were. Now I want to talk at all of ‘em.

One last note: I realized I thrive on these events because it’s the only time I get to spend with people I relate to, enjoy, and connect with on many, many levels. I’ve come to understand what’s meant by “finding one’s tribe,” and this is it. When I come back to Hesperia, I feel a little like I’m going back into exile. So whatever else is on the agenda for 2007, it must include a whole lot more of things like this.