To Hold A Killer In Your Hand

There are lots of cool things about Las Vegas.

One of the coolest has to be the Clark County Renaissance Festival.

I'd never been to a Ren Faire before this weekend (I know, I know, it's like I need to turn in my nerd card or something) but that oversight has been fixed. I wasn't quite sure what to expect, but boy, I wasn't disappointed.

As some of the people I chatted with beforehand mentioned, the people watching was often the coolest part. The costumes and decorations and food and everything were just incredible.

Also camels.

(I swear its the Geico Hump Day camel. He's making that face...)

So, there's this thing, both online and IRL, where I sometimes wonder if I'm being taken seriously. Not you guys, you guys are great. And it's not ever anything even remotely big deal-ish. But, ya know, I get called darling and sweetheart a lot, and every once in a while I'll catch a surprised look on someone's face when they see that I can, like, do things. I'm pretty sure this all just comes with the short, round-faced blond territory. Which, again, is totes fine most the time, but I do wonder sometimes if I look young enough even just in profile pictures and such that it influences my online and IRL interactions with serious, important people like agents and editors.

But I think, at the Renaissance Fair, I came up with a solution.

First, I need to take lessons from this guy:

That is real life full metal armor and there was real life jousting with real life lances that shattered on impact and everything. It was completely epic. This guy is a former soldier and started the Knights of Mayhem for the pure love of jousting. There's not a single agent or editor or book buyer alive who would not take this guy seriously.

Am I right? This guy was so epic I had to play with Photoshop to capture his true awesometacity.

(Is there female jousting? Is that a thing?)

Mostly, though, I just need to make sure that in all my profile pictures, I've got a killer in my hand.

Isn't she gorgeous? The trainer said her name is Sheba, and she's a Bateleur Eagle. I mean it just keeps building epic upon epic. Sheba? Bateleur? And look at that wing span!

To be honest, though, I'm not sure that picture is going to help me out very much, because even with a killer in my hand I still look younger than I am, and I still have a goofy grin on my face. Although, the trainer did compliment my endurance and tight grip (I'm also stronger than I look :v). And you know what, I'm thinking maybe that's okay, because all it means is that I just need to find people who take goofy grins and round faces and Pixar and Mo Willems and Gary Larson and Frasier and puns and Aslan and Atticus and the Newberry Award and chocolate covered bananas as seriously as I do. And, of course, there are lots of us out there, which is why the blogosphere is so amazing, because I get to talk with lots of you all the time!

So yeah, let's just acknowledge that the best life is one where you have a Bateleur Eagle or a lance in one hand, and a blue-ray DVD of Monsters, Inc., or the complete collection of Calvin and Hobbes, or a Mickey Mouse hat in the other.

And with whatever hand you've got left (whether you were born with it or stole it from the church cemetary across the street, I won't judge)...

Write on!

Sarah Allen

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