221B Con Panel Suggestion, Shotgun Season.

221B Con panel suggestion season is still upon us, so it seems time for another round of "choneling."

Chonnelling?

Ch-conelling?

Trying to combine "channelling" and "con panel" into a word and it just ain't happening. Anyway . . .

I've already sent one off tonight, entitled "A particular set of skills." I love Sherlock Holmes's methods and the idea of him going full tilt ala Liam Neeson has always intrigued me. (Yes, I'm sure many a writer things they have written him going all out, but I really don't feel like I've seen it yet.) But I want to pump out a few more, because the committee has to have some choices to bat around -- and it's fun to do, anyway. So here goes another session of choneling;

A Canon Lost In Time -- What would happen if every story in the original sixty was set in a different time period and Sherlock and company were time travelers jumping to solve each one in its era? Which story would take place in which era, and what historical figures might replace the Canonical ones?

American iDoyle -- If Apple created an AI of Conan Doyle that you could wear on your wrist, what purpose would he serve? (Yes, I just liked that title and have no idea what a panel on it would do.)

Unshippables -- Are any pairings too rare to even exist as a thought experiment? Are any combinations of characters too fractious to get along at all?

Favorite Pizza Orders From Baker Street -- I still contend the "large flat box" from "The Adventure of the Noble Bachelor" was a pizza. Who is ordering what on their pizza at Baker Street, and what do the assorted clients/villains who visit ask for when they're there for pizza time?

England is England Yet -- What parts of London can you visit today to see something that's pretty much what Victorian Sherlock Holmes saw?

Captain James T. Calhoun -- When the Lone Star was lost in that Atlantic storm, and Captain Calhoun was transported to the future via the Bermuda Triangle, what did it take for him to reform and change his name to Kirk?  (Yeah, they can't all be winners. And you probably thought the iDoyle thing was the low bar . . .)

Podcast Familiars -- We're getting to know the voices in our heads a little too well these days, as podcasting lets people open up to strangers all over the world. What are the upsides and downsides to getting so familiar with the distant voices on podcasts? What sorts of personalities do the communities growing up around podcasts demonstrate?

Mycroft IS the British Government -- How exactly did that work? What do we know about the British Government and how could he even fit in there?

The Lords and Ladies Fancy Folk Hour -- Put on your favorite title of nobility and come for a panel of fancy folk discussion with a lifted pinky and an air of St. Simon as we discuss how badly Sherlock Holmes treated all of his betters in the original Canon. Horrendous chap! Someone should have said something!

The Game Afoot Is You! -- Planning to murder some relative for their inheritance? How do you foil Sherlock Holmes when you know Lestrade is going to bring him in? What do you plan ahead? What do you do after?

Okay, that's enough for one evening. Not a banner crop, but we'll see if they get better with a little age. Feel free to use any of them to springboard your own submission or steal them outright and send them in, as it's all about getting ideas in to stir the creative juices at 221B Con, which we'll all enjoy.

Still plenty of time left, and the more input the con-creators have, the more powerful the final line-up!

The Orville Peoria

Howard Ostrum, a current king of Sherlockian stage and screen buffs, posed the following puzzler this weekend on Twitter:

Rathbone, on the right, looks pretty much like Basil Rathbone always looks, but the guy on the left?

No idea. I'm hearing whispers that it might be Jeremy Brett, but failing the terms of Howard's post, I found that it must be time for me to finally hang it up, give up Sherlockiana as my aging intellect becomes too slow for this crowd, and move on to something simpler.

But what?

Well, before Sherlock entered my life, there was Spock. Yet Star Trek fandom is too old and established with its own whiz kids, some of whom actually are rocket scientists at this point, so I decided to turn to something new. 

And then I remembered The Orville. What Solar Pons was to Sherlock Holmes, The Orville is to Star Trek: an easy pastiche to sink into, not far from the original, and easy enough on the brain to feel like a comfy couch to an old Trekkie. Or "Orkie" as I have now decided to christen my lifeboat fandom.

Now I just have to wait for mo' Orville. 

Funny,  that looks just like "Mo-orville" as in Moorville, Kansas, which is one of my favorite Sherlockian towns. There are stories about Moorville I've always wanted to tell, and a folder on my hard drive with hints of them. Oh, wait . . . .

Moorville! I just realized . . . that means Garridebs . . . and that means . . . .

Okay, I'm applying for new Sherlockian credentials. Always good to see what the current ones look like. I'm suspecting they have Cumberbatch/Freeman art these days, and that slash isn't accidental.

(Add if you think the blogging has gone a bit sideways here, just wait . . . )

The thing that connects Sherlockians.

This week I got the gift of perspective that is having one's smartphone become useless for a day while alone and away from home.

I still had a laptop, wifi, a hotel room phone . . . so not too big a crisis, of course, but even with all that, it was an interesting little experiment. The regular checking in on Twitter, the constant stream of podcast voices during morning rituals like shaving, the ability to find a particular store while driving around an unfamiliar town, and more, all gone. A host of trivial things missing, yes, but the feeling of just being disconnected with life itself was amazing.

When we think of Sherlockiana, a lot of times we think of books about Sherlock Holmes, art depicting Sherlock Holmes, knick-knacks that evoke Sherlock Holmes . . . the things of Sherlock Holmes. It can be an analytical article or a movie adaptation, a party favor or a fannish song. People collect Sherlockiana. But is that really Sherlockiana itself, or the residue from the actual thing that is Sherlockiana?

Google "definition of Sherlockiana" and the search engine pulls up

"Definition. People interested in Sherlock Holmes and who enjoy sharing their interest with others are baptized sherlockians or holmesians. Their purpose is to keep green the memory of the detective. The literary activities of the sherlockians is called Sherlockiana."

Google is pulling that curious combination of thoughts from a site called The Arthur Conan Doyle Encyclopedia, which gets a part of it, but doesn't really dive deeply enough.

Are activities a part of Sherlockiana? Are clubs a part of Sherlockiana?

While writings, art, and objects are things we call "Sherlockiana," what are they really, if not just ways Sherlockians connect with other Sherlockians. Just like societies, conventions, and mailings. Even the simple act of wearing a T-shirt with Sherlock and John on it is a means of broadcasting your love of the boys in the hope that someone will see it and, even in their head, just for a moment, connect with those feelings.

Getting my phone up and working again and resuming my connections with all the data streams it brings, I suddenly had a lot of Sherlockiana once again available during any given moment. And it wasn't just "literary activities," as the ACD Encyclopedia site defines the word. It was the verbal web of a multitude of Sherlockians sending out their quivers of thought for other spiders on the web to pick up. (If you think "spiders" is creepy, I could have went with a tendrils/feelers sort of metaphor and had Sherlockians be Cthulhu-like tentacle beasties. At least Moriarty metaphors aren't Cthulhu horrific.)

Losing and regaining some of my connections this week gave me a new definition of Sherlockiana, not as a collection of things, but as the connections that are the reason for those things. Fanfic kudos. Membership certificates. Movie reviews. All residue of the true network of shared loved of Sherlock Holmes and John H. Watson.

Thinking of Sherlockiana as a network of shared love really makes clear what our goals as Sherlockians should be, too. Not to define boundaries, act as gatekeepers, or promote our personal brands, but to share joy as much as we possibly can.

Okay, I've got to reign it in a bit before I become a little too sweet about this hobby I've enjoyed for my entire adult life. But you get the picture. Stay connected, with whatever media you favor.

Because we're all out here, waiting to hear from you, even if it's just via t-shirt.

Therapeutic Sherlocking.

Driving down the interstate, listening to Sherlockians talk about making Jello . . . .

With the absolute shite that we're currently calling leadership in this country and the tragedies they are unable to address or deal with in any meaningful manner, driving down the interstate listening to Sherlockians talk about Jello is a outright oasis of joy, because you know what?

They goddamn care about that Jello. They're putting in the effort.

And this is what Sherlockiana has always, and will always be to me. A place where things don't have to be important. A place where we can make Jello about Sherlock Holmes and enjoy doing it, even if it's alcoholic jello in the shape of Sherlock's penis. (Making a big assumption there. Could be John's penis. Could be Mrs. Hudson's penis. Let's not assume.)

While all Sherlockiana spins off of those sixty stories with "by A. Conan Doyle" attached to them, so many of our most beloved tropes and rituals came almost randomly from Sherlockian interactions. The old BSI collectively saying "and there shall be no monthly meeting," when meeting schedules have nothing to do with Holmes. A scion society's annual summer picnic egg toss. A beloved restaurant where Sherlockians gather. And Jello shot penises.

A more traditional form of Sherlockian respite was saved for later in the day: Retail therapy.

Did I really need a volume of DeQuincey from Holmes and Watson's time? Or the 1924 Little and Brown edition of Doyle's Memories and Adventures? Or a spare copy of the novelization of Wilder's The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes? Probably not. But, oh, they felt so good coming into my possession. It had really been a while since any good Sherlockian bookfinds in an actual store, so it seemed like I was suddenly back in 1985. (Which ain't 1895, sure, but close!)

There are decades of difference between the worlds of ye olde bookshoppe wandering of the eighties and the latest Three Patch Sexpisode of today, but they both serve the same goals: Letting a Sherlock Holmes fan unwind. That part of Sherlock's purpose never changes.

I hope he's serving you well these days!

Podcasting madness.

Well, it's October.

For a very long time, I've been toying with the idea of doing a podcast. I love podcasts. At one 221B Con, I remember one a host from an Atlanta podcast enthusiastically encouraging anyone who had the urge to do a podcast to do one. And at one Christmas, not so long ago, I was even gifted a Blue Yeti microphone.

But the idea of doing a podcast still seemed much to me like thinking of writing a book when I'm in Barnes & Noble: You look around at the massive amounts of stuff already existing and go, "What can I add to this that would be worth anything?"

I mean, sure, we all think we could just talk on and endlessly charm people with our stories and wit . . . well, at least I hope your ego has some moments of that, just to make me feel less of a narcissist . . . but actually putting that to the test? And doing it on a regular basis, like blogging? That just seems like work.

But then I heard a podcast that seemed like the sort of thing that would fit in the Sherlockian world, except that the particular one I was hearing was definitely not Sherlockian. And it was a limited series.

So I started recording things. And editing them together. And going, "Man, anybody who's a real sound engineer or a skilled podcast producer is going to hate the amateurishness of this." It seemed like the audio version of those people whose desktop publishing skills revolved around too much Zapf Chancery in the early days of the Macintosh Classic. But you have to start somewhere.

And it's actually a lot of fun . . . well, in parts.

I've seen tweets from more obsessive podcast editors on how much effort they put into their work, and now I'm seeing firsthand just how detail-oriented anyone with a touch of the obsessive-compulsive can get. I find myself perfectly willing to slop through some parts of the podcast, yet obsess maniacally over some other little detail that no one will ever care about. It's amazing.

And something I always thought I would never have time for. But when the bug bites you, the time starts getting cut from other things. Cooking, cleaning . . . blogging? Yikes.

But I'm sure if you've read this far, there's one thing you really want to know: What is this podcast and when will it be available?

If everything goes according to plan, you'll see an episode or two by the end of the month. And while I don't want to give the title away just yet, I will tell you this: It's not a chat show. It's not a talking-about-the-stories show. And where it's going to go, I'm not even sure. But it has definite places to go.

And yes, completely about Mr. Sherlock Holmes. To be continued.

Two Sherlocks in a single TV show.

Fan fiction too often gets dismissed as ephemeral fluff, but one writer's attempt to start a new fic this week brought out what a great analytical tool it can be.

Caroline's poll on Twitter, as she started to plot a new story, aimed to put Sherlock and John into a scenario based on cult favorite TV show Firefly. And finding a Firefly character who lined up with Sherlock Holmes quickly brought out two very different dramatically different ways we view Sherlock.

For those unfamiliar with Firefly, let me run down the two characters involved for you.

Inara is a worldly professional who sets herself apart from the rest of the cast in her separate vessel attached to the main spaceship from the start. She has insights into her fellow humans far beyond those of other characters, goes off to handle her own cases, and deals with folks from the highest ranks of society on occasion. Inara could be argued to be the best and wisest of the Firefly's passengers and crew.

River, on the other hand, is the ultimate outsider. No one ever knows what she's up to or why she's doing the weird things she does, though there usually winds up being a valid reason for it. She definitely has her own Dr. Watson in her brother Simon, also a doctor, who struggles to take care of this dangerously random individual, much like our John Watson did. River has mental abilities so far above her fellow humans that she seems like an alien being, and, like our Sherlock, will just suddenly go from aloof artist-type to kicking major ass.

As the check mark in the above screen shot shows, my natural reaction is to go for the latter view of Sherlock Holmes, but both are wonderfully valid takes on the man. And this is one of the things that those who dismiss fan fiction outright fail to understand: Writing fan fiction is the perfect tool for exploring aspects of personality in ways simple articles can't do. Putting characters in scenarios to play out what aspects of their personality will lead to are thought-experiments that can lead to better understanding of not just the character you're writing about, but yourself and others. And also passing that understanding on to others who are curious to read your experiments.

Which is kind of what fiction has always been about. Helping us understand differing points of view than our own and gaining empathy for people who aren't us.

Caroline's question revealing two great Sherlock Holmes characters in a single TV show really brought that out for me this morning, which, considering I'm a big fan of both Sherlock Holmes and Firefly, surprised me that I'd never considered before. I hope we never lose the spark to run such experiments, because they're another part of what makes Sherlockiana such a great place to be.

Another great night of Sherlock Holmes, unexpected.

Here's one of those things I love about Sherlock Holmes that you forget after a while, and then get to be happily reminded of . . . .

There is great joy to be had in little things.  Details in the Canon. Simple Holmes-related artifacts. A digital clock hitting 2:21. And even, as happened tonight, an almost non-attended Sherlockian discussion group meeting.

I've mentioned our local library group, the Sherlock Holmes Story Society, here before, which meets at the North Branch of Peoria Public Library on the fourth Thursday of the month at 6:30. We've been going since January of this year, and attendance is still pretty irregular, ranging from eight to tonight's gathering of two and a half.

Going into this evening's discussion of "The Engineer's Thumb," I was not expecting much. I'd forgotten the meeting myself until the day before, the good Carter was buried in deadlines and unable to attend, and the reminder e-mails we had decided to start sending out had failed to come together. And when 6:30 approached and I was sitting in the meeting room alone, things were looking pretty bleak.

And then one person showed up.

And one of the best meetings ever began. Because what makes a great Sherlockian meeting? Getting surprised by another person who you quickly see is into Sherlock Holmes as much as you are. Someone who got the stories read to them as a child as bedtime stories. Someone under thirty who appreciates the Granada series. And someone who not only cites Lyndsay Faye's work as their favorite pastiche, but attended the legendary doom that was DashCon. The kind of person you hope will walk into any Sherlockian meeting.

Not that we don't have a few such folk in the Sherlock Holmes Story Society already (Where were ya, guys?), but a brand new one?!?  Treasure.

We had a good back-and-forth on "Engineer's Thumb" until about the halfway mark of the meeting, when a second attendee showed up (the "half" I mentioned earlier), an older gentleman in mirror shades and black cloth gloves. And then the meeting took a turn . . .

He took the gloves off, but not the shades, and soon we got peppered with random questions about Sherlock Holmes ranging from "Was he real?" to "Does this need a book?" to "Did you ever see The Prisoner?" And he was taking notes on our answers. He had seen a lot of Sherlock Holmes movies, primarily the Rathbones, I think, but kept giving us springboards to talk about some aspect of Sherlock Holmes that might have had something to do with his legion of questions.

William Gillette. Conan Doyle's non-writing career. Heroes who die. Adolph Hitler's Hound. The number of pages in the Complete (and how it wasn't the same in both copies present). Robert Downey Jr. Suddenly we were on a wild random treadmill of subjects and never made it back to "Engineer's Thumb" before the overhead speakers said it was time to close the library.

It would have driven a more goal-oriented Sherlockian mad, but that last half of the meeting still just makes me laugh. As so often happens, when you least expect it, you sometimes get great surprises.

And tonight was one of those nights. Next month, I'm determined to get those reminders out, because our Sherlock Holmes Story Society alumni are going to want to meet our newest member when she returns. Our late arrival said many times that this was probably going to be his only time in the group, which is why he had so many questions, so I don't expect we'll be seeing him then.

But you just never know about Sherlockian gatherings, and that's the best part.

When you follow Sherlock Holmes around, you always get marvelous surprises, and most often, when you least expect them.