Audio narrator selected for Bad Penny

I was saddened today to learn that Dave Wolverton, best known by his pen name David Farland, passed away this week.

Dave was such an incredibly helpful mentor to me. It was the workshop he held at BYU back in 1993 that made me think I could actually write stories that entertained people. It was that workshop that prompted me to start submitting to the magazines.

And when I finally got my first publication, he was involved. He was the initial judge for Writers of the Future when my story won a first prize. And he was there, helping lead the writer’s workshop in Cocoa Beach, Florida and cheering all of us on.

Later, when I started writing novels, it was his thoughtful feedback that helped me improve my second novel to a publishable level. He believed in it enough to write a recommendation for me to Tor Books. When they decided to publish me, it was Dave that agreed to take me on tour with him. I enjoyed hours and hours driving with him, chatting, laughing, and signing at bookstores in Washington, Oregon, and California.

He was always interested. Always friendly. Always willing to talk and share his expertise. And always had great stories to share about his life.

As an entertainer, his stories thrilled me. In college, I was swept away by SERPENT CATCH, PATH OF THE HERO, ON MY WAY TO PARADISE, and THE GOLDEN QUEEN trilogy. My wife and I had so many delightful hours reading that trilogy to each other.

I still remember going to the bookstore in Pleasanton, California in 1998, hoping to get a copy of RUNELORDS when it was first published, being so excited when I found it on the self, opening it, and reading the first pages. They completely enthralled me. Blew me away. I felt like I was in the cinema. I loved that series and was always waiting for the final book.

I loved Dave’s stories. I appreciated so much his many kindnesses to me and his good humor.

May you rest in paradise, my friend, until the trumpet sounds.

 

Just got back from taking a small troop of 12 and 13 year old young men on a scouting hiking and camping trip in the Sawtooth Mountains in Idaho with two other leaders.

Here’s the checklist.

Watch a boy think it’s a good idea to stand with his back three feet from the edge of an 80-foot drop and begin pulling on a two-hundred pound hunk of granite while three other boys on the other side push on it with their feet in an attempt to send said large object over the edge.

Check.

(Eventually their frontal cortexes will develop; until then it’s up to leaders to say, “Hey, um, make sure you pull really hard.”)

Sleep under stars in sleeping bag I don’t quite fit in with my serial killer ski mask on backwards because my eyeballs are freezing and wake up at 5 am to 27 degrees.

Check.

See spectacular views, including one stark place (Baron Lakes) that looks like a habitation for dragons or trolls.

Check.

Watch in rear view mirror in the middle of nowhere Idaho as the other scout leader in the pickup with the four boys tries to pass two rabbit farmer pickups at a T intersection (yeah, passing at an intersection is against the law even if the trucks have hazards on and are waving people around), each with a single ton round bale in the bed; see the first rabbit farmer truck start to turn, and then the scout transportation vehicle swerve, miss a traffic sign by 14 inches, go flying off the road at 60 mph, bounce a number of times in the field and come to a halt. Upon flying off the road, spiritual and hippy scout leader shouts, “Oh, s**t!” When the truck comes to rest, the one scout whose father lent us the truck exclaims, “THAT WAS AWESOME!”

Check.

(Yes, they had their seat belts on.)

So, all in all, a great trip.

5.5 miles and 2,000+ feet in elevation on the way in and again on the way out, wearing a $6 pair of camo jeans purchased at the Deseret Industries (the local thrift shop) and a $17 pair of WalMart special shoes with soles that were mostly made out of foam, which meant that while they were comfy much of the time, I did get to make friends with a number of pointy granite rocks, proving that “be prepared” for some of us is more of a guideline than an actual rule.