Personal Appearance! — and some Wedding Photos
I am going to Balticon — the Baltimore Science Fiction convention with my lovely wife, world famous authoress L. Jagi Lamplighter, who in our house is called She Who Must Be Obeyed. To be held Memorial Day Weekend May 22-25, 2009 At Marriott’s Hunt Valley Inn, Baltimore, MD.
World-Famous Authoress, the immortal, beautiful but evil L. Jagi Lamplighter:
Okay, so this is not what you would see if YOU looked at her, but my eyes can see past the normal electro-magnetic spectrum into the high-energy infatuated purple-pulp fiction range.
For those of you interested in what I look like, here is a picture of me from the cover of LOCUS, when I was interviewed about my book LAST GUARDIAN OF EVERNESS. Note that I managed to slip the mention of God into the title of the article.
Here is picture of me discussing my latest literary work with my editor, David Hartwell at Tor. He did not like my idea for a sequel for a cross-over book from the works of Marion Zimmer Bradley and John Norman, to be titled FREE AMAZONS OF GOR, and so he is having me sapped down.
And here is a wedding photo. As you can see, my wedding was interrupted by the pushy wedding photographer, who happened to be an agent of Shiwan Khan weilding a welding torch, so I had to strangle him with my bare hands.
This is another wedding picture. Mrs. Wright and I were married on the streets of New York back in the days when the skies were amber-colored, due to radioactive discharge left over from the Martian Invasion. Because I had to hide from Shiwan Khan, the preacher is performing the ceremony over the cell phone you can see in Mrs. Wright’s hand. I am shown here holding the photographer at gunpoint, since after my last wedding photographer, who can blame me?
And this is me in my disguise as Lamont Cranston, wealthy man-about-town, embracing the Missus. Awww…
She Who Must Be Obeyed had the paparazzi who snapped this photo afterward thrown into the Pit of a Thousand Snakes, and I felt kinda bad about that, but, say, when you marry an immortal, beautiful but evil sorceress-queen from Atlantis or wherever, you gotta take the good with the bad. She does not complain about my bloodthirsty vigilante work, and I look the other way when she has to throw some rebellous slaves into the Pit. Mutual Respect, tolerance, and, of course, absolute obedience to her every cruel whim. That is what makes a marriage work. I am so glad she married me instead of that Ra’s al-Ghul fellow.