Last weekend I was able to attend BasedCon 2024 at an undisclosed location. After missing last year’s event, it was a breath of fresh air. Since it was a nice day and I knew I’d arrive early regardless, I decided to take backroads. My GPS apparently decided I needed to take a very scenic route (not, as I found on my home, the best route). And it was a fun drive.

On the way, I started a very good audiobook on Ronald Reagan.

Almost as soon as I arrived, I fell into a conversation on why you shouldn’t write novels in first person present tense. So if you thought, based on the name, that BasedCon would be nonstop hate speech… well, you might not be too far off the mark. It’s just not the sort of hate speech you thought. Anyway, I saw lots of familiar faces and it was good reconnecting with old friends with whom, thanks to social media, I never really lost touch. A few people I’d hoped to see weren’t able to make it this year.

But such is life.

After dinner there was an opportunity for authors to read from their books. As with any event of this sort, some of the readings received polite applause and others sent us running to the merch table for signed copies of their wonderful work. I hadn’t planned on reading, but for once the readings didn’t go overly long and they opened it up to anyone who was interested. For whatever reason, I decided to break with custom and read from something that isn’t published yet. It seemed to get a good response.

People were asking me all weekend when it will be finished.

The next two days were packed with panel discussions that I won’t try to summarize here. Two of my favorites, however, were titled, “Humorous Science Fiction and Fantasy,” and “Fairy Tales to Fight the Culture War.” Even the “culture war” panel was filled with whimsey, and that’s something which I want to emphasize. The reason BasedCon exists is because the mainstream sci-fi and fantasy space isn’t open to the based-minded and many (if not most) of the speakers have been canceled in one way or another.

If anyone has a right to be angry and bitter, it’s these people.

And yet, I doubt you’d find a happier, more gracious gathering of creatives working in that space anywhere on earth. The freedom to tell the stories they want to tell, the way they want to tell them, is worth more to these men and women than awards and massive audiences. Sure, some of them are gruff, with thick skin, but they wear their battle scars with pride. And if they can do it, maybe those of us who aspire to find some success with our words can weather the same storms should they come.

We can’t fear the storm.

Readers are hungry for good stories that don’t offend their values. Conservative talking heads love to ask, “Why isn't there any conversative art?” and then refuse to acknowledge the enormous library of work available. They have their reasons, none of them defensible. And it’s as annoying as heck. Thankfully, at BasedCon we have the chance to gather and remind ourselves that the talking heads are wrong and just blowing hot air. We are many, and we are not alone. BasedCon is growing every year, and because of it the output of good stories will grow to levels that asking that question will be as inane asking, “Why aren’t there more Starbucks?”

You can’t swing a dead cat without hitting one.

BasedCon isn’t a gathering of outwardly angry people. It’s not an overtly political event. No one leaves feeling outraged or despairing at the state of the culture. Attendees want to tell stories that live and breathe, that live longer than memes, inspire and entertain in ways propaganda cannot. For myself, I came home refreshed and inspired to keep creating, knowing that there is a far larger group of people than I’ll ever fully realize who share many of my values. We may not agree on everything. I know we don't. But we share enough common ground to support one another where it matters. 

Bring on BasedCon 2025!

Most of what I read these days is for professional reasons, so I can’t always talk about it here. Sometimes it’s for another website, and sometimes it’s something that isn’t even out yet. I try to set aside time every day to read, and during the week that’s my work. But especially on the weekends I try to read things for myself. Recently, I went back and re-read the first of The Dresden Files, Storm Front, by Jim Butcher.

Even though there are many other books that I’ve never read before that I want to and intend to read.
Someday.

I’ll never forget back in 2009 when I was exploring a new-to-me library (which was literally right out my backdoor) and noticing Storm Front on a display. It promised something to the effect of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer meets Philip Marlowe” and I was all in. I’d just moved into a garden level studio apartment (like Harry Dresden) and was living by myself (like Harry Dresden).The seasons were changing and the weather was wild (like in the book). I was experiencing a lot of change in my life, everything seemed fresh and new, with a texture that I knew would leave an impression on every memory.

And frankly, the book didn’t seem that great.

It’s a debut novel and, reportedly, the first thing Butcher ever wrote under professional guidance. Everything seemed a little stilted. I finished the novel and didn’t pick up the sequel until some time later. But then I was hooked. I burned through all twelve that were available at the time in a matter of months. By book four it’s pretty much agreed Butcher finds his voice and the series gets really good. Over the years, I’ve re-read all of the books at least once (except the most recent) and listened to many of them at random.

So I guess you’d say I’m a fan.

Storm Front introduces us to a wizard named Harry, but this one is all American made. He wears cowboy boots and a duster (but never a hat), has a temper and a libido, both of which get him in trouble. Being a private detective/wizard doesn’t really pay the bills in Chicago, so he also works as a “psychic” consultant to the local PD’s division, headed by Karen Murphy, that deals with the weird. Harry’s first case centers around some gruesome murders, a missing husband, drug dealing mobsters, and builds out his world.

The magic system is intention based, not pretty colors and metals (like some authors write).

Over the next three or four books Butcher does a better of job making the magic feel more organic and his characters less one-note (looking at you, Murph). And it’s the characters more than anything that keep me coming back to this series. Stay away too long and I start missing them like old friends. Good characters, more than spectacular action, sex, or magic (or, in the case of this book, sex magic), are what audiences want. 

Writing good characters has become a lost art in the mainstream.

Everyone in Butcher’s world has a moral framework within which they live and work. It may not be mine, I may violently disagree with their logic, but I understand it. So as I spend time with them I know what to expect, and when they justify doing something out of character it’s a cause for concern. And at no point does Butcher expect his characters convictions to become ours. There’s no preaching. We’re allowed to simply observe and weigh the consequences for ourselves.

That too has become a lost art.

So I’m sure that I’ll keep revisiting The Dresden Files for a long, long time. Reading them hasn’t just been entertaining, but also instructive. Now I write characters, even point of view characters, with whom I don’t agree. It’s good practice for interacting with people in real life, makes for better stories, and prevents me from underwriting the imaginary people I hope will become my readers’ friends. 

Right now Hollywood seems to be predominantly offering up two kinds of movies. There are the movies I call “content,” which are instantly forgettable and most people will never watch twice. These  glitzy movies check all the diversity boxes and have a factory made quality that provides all the heart, soul, and satisfaction of a McDonald’s double cheeseburger. And I’m at a point in my life that all I get after consuming one is the same regret I’d feel after eating assembly line food.

Avoid

The other type of movie we get is the reinterpretation of the established familiar, usually with a hefty dose of revisionism to appeal to some vocal minority. It may wear the skin of a sequel, remake, or addition to a shared universe, but ultimately it’s all the same. Too often ignorant screenwriters and directors use these movies as opportunities to tell fans why they were wrong to like what they liked about the original and preach a new set of virtues that run counter to the human experience.

Also avoid

Last weekend I had the opportunity to see Twisters, and I was curious to see which kind of movie it would be. The fact that it didn’t go straight to Peacock or another streamer was a good sign that it wouldn’t fall into the first category. Heck, the two leads are attractive white people, which shouldn’t be noteworthy, but it is. However, given the climate alarmism that’s infected just about genre film, it seemed like a shoe-in that Twisters would take a stance. In fact, when it was first announced everyone assumed that a weather-themed film would be nothing but a long lecture on how humans, with their cars and cows, are to blame.

Mother Earth is angry.

To everyone’s surprise, except for a passing remark early on about increasingly erratic weather, Twisters doesn’t go there, and the planet isn’t personified. Our main characters are scientists, and not in the self-righteous, Neil deGrasse Tyson way. No, they’re enthusiastic, inquisitive, and hopeful. Kate (Daisy Edgar-Jones) has a wound, Tyler (Glen Powell) needs to learn humility, and Javi (Anthony Ramos) has made mistakes, but no one is perfect.

Let me say that again: NO ONE IS PERFECT!

On the one hand, I want to commend Twisters for its understated approach. The assumption of the changing climate is put out there, and then they move onto the story. There’s subtle patriotism and respect given to small-town America, but we’re never hit over the head with it. But on the other hand, “understated” is sometimes just another way of saying “played it too safe.” This is most glaring in the resolution of the love story, or lack thereof. Kate and Tyler are clearly attracted to each other and have good chemistry. But the movie stops just short of a classic, Hollywood kiss. 

Disaster movies should never play it safe.

Ultimately, I think Twisters is a step in the right direction. It’s a cautious, hesitant step back into making movies that are just entertainment. We’re not back to the 90s yet, when Twister could be unapologetically fun, romantic, and absurd. And we’re certainly not back to the 50s when a movie could affirm heartland virtues without pandering. But Twisters shows us a beautiful section of America that’s been neglected for far too long, with decent people doing their best to enjoy life. 

And the country music soundtrack is really good. 

By now you should know my metric for a good movie is beautiful people in exotic places doing exciting things. Twisters checks all the boxes. Yes, Oklahoma can exotic! I like the movie. I like it quite a bit. No, it’s far from perfect. But if it’s a success maybe we’re one step closer to making movies fun again.