So... The Faire is over for another year, and I think my Storyteller adventure has been a definite success. Over the course of about 120 hours at the Faire, I delivered 41 stories, something like 200 poems, and about a dozen songs (in addition to two or three dozen reditions of "Meet the Deep Ones" this last weekend). I have had a BALL. And for some people (Four or five hundred of them? Is that POSSIBLE? That's what the numbers indicate...) I think I made the Bristol experience just a little bit better. I'm kind of awe-stricken by that, actually.
I had some great experiences, and some strange ones. I guess I can understand teen-agers who don't recognize the "Flintstones" theme, and obvious mundanes who have never heard of kobolds, or H.P. Lovecraft, or Cthulhu. I was greatly amused when someone actually recognized the name of Hoyt Curtin (music director for Hanna-Barbera, and composer of "Meet the Flintstones"), though that person WAS a musician...
I need to figure out ways to do more of this. It's GOOD for me, and it also hawks the books...
For my own records, here is a list of the stuff that I did at Bristol this summer:
The Turtle's Question
Laggy's Last Game
The Girl on the Hearth
The Oakbridge Oak
When the Tall Man Speaks
Wild Hunt's Justice
Wild Geese and Wood Smoke
Drunken Angel (Longcor)
Final Voyage (Haynie)
307 Ale (Smith)
Meet the Deep Ones (Kaufman/Curtin)
And then there was "Four Accents in Four Sentences", a "Stupid Human Trick" that used the first paragraph of "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" (Douglas Adams) as its base text.
Plus a certain amount of general-purpose Hyena-schtick...
Several times at the Faire, people looked at my hat, made eye contact, and said, "No, you may not." This baffles me. Was this an attempt at humor, or deliberate rudeness, or something else?
Edited to add: Some perspective on this: Several thousand people saw the hat, and ignored me. Several hundred chose to respond positively. A few chose to go out of their way to respond negatively. I am not hurt or offended, just baffled.
Storyteller Chronicles: Finger Gun
There were eight or ten of them, 30-ish, in various stages of intoxication, and wearing garb ranging from none to moderate, standing at the end of one the back-to-back bench pairs on St. John's Way. They reacted to my hat, I responded with, "Two minutes for a poem, ten minutes for a story"; my reading of the group said, "Poem," which was almost right. One of them really wanted a story, and essentially bullied the rest into line.
"Does anyone know what a kobold is?" I asked hopefully, and got nothing. So... "This story is called, 'The Girl on the Hearth', and it's built on the bones of a story that I KNOW you are all familiar with..." and I was off.
For all of my cranial bandwidth issues, I have enough buffer to make occasional eye contact without interrupting the story, and I got to watch the group slowly pull in and start paying attention; one of them even commented on my ability to turn pages without pausing. There came a point where I reached the end of a paragraph, looked up, and said, "Does everyone recognize the story now?"; most of them nodded, and a few of them said, "Cinderella."
The fellow on my far left, who had definitely been paying attention, said, "Snow White." I turned to him, gave him a look of mock horror, held a finger gun to my right temple, fired it. They ALL just lost it. It was kind of a perfect moment. They all stayed FOCUSED though the end of the story, and conversation went on for something like ten minutes afterward.
It was a GOOD session...
This started with an irritating article in an RPG magazine, which sent me off trying to correlate magical energy to physical energy within a specific game world. As I progressed down the rabbit hole, I found I needed to know the general efficiency of the human body, so I pulled a few numbers out of my personal experience (soft drink consumption while rowing long distances), and came up with 25%. A while later, I took a moment and actually looked it up, and got... 25%. I am profoundly amused by this...
Just found out about this. People are actually buying something I wrote. Kind of cool. ("Brief History" Electrum Best Seller on Drive Thrue RPG)
Twice in the last week or so, from different sources, I have encountered the phrase, "Cut bait and run," which just makes my teeth hurt. "Fish or cut bait," means, "Do something useful NOW!", and "Cut and run," literally means, "Cut the anchor cable and get out NOW!" Two different things that do NOT go together, in spite of both having nautical sources and containing the word, "Cut."
It's a small thing, but it's toxic and stupid.