I Heart Kaleidoscope

October 19th, 2022

Unlearning can be learning.

For a second year, I was lucky enough to be invited to teach Kaleidescope, an arts program for LGBTQ+ youth in Faribault.

We meet in the Buckham Memorial Library, which is surreal, because I grew up just a block away and spent so much of my young life learning there; it feels full-circle to teach there.

I say “teach,” but all I do is learn.

The young people I get to talk to are amazing artists and writers; they remind me of the things we lose or even drop on purpose as adults.

They are abundantly, furiously creative. They give no excuses nor have to justify anything. They are fearless with their ideas and completely open to suggestions and collaboration. They are passionate and unapologetic for their stories.

I got to read the beginning of a 12,000+ word-and-counting zombie apocalypse story. I got pitches for new superheroes to add to the world of the Weirdos. I listened in awe to what started as a traditional mermaid story, which then reversed its roles and told me something new.

I have no place teaching anything but, wow, do I love to learn.

And part of that learning is unlearning. It’s unlearning what society wants me to be. It’s unlearning what an adult is “supposed” to be, because I look around at the people who are supposed to have this thing figured out and they just don’t.

It’s unlearning the rules and remembering that all that matters is the story, rules be damned.

So a huge thank you to Faith and the incredible program she’s created. I am so grateful to be a part of it and able to benefit from its insightful process.

(And if this sounds like something you’d love to participate in, please reach out!)

The Characters That Inspired Me, Part 1

October 17th, 2022

On hard days, people will remind you to think of the good memories, and my pockets are full of those.

A lot of those memories revolve around Halloween. My mom loved to see what characters inspired me, and it inspired her own creativity every year when I inevitably asked her to craft me a new costume.

I was looking through a digital stack of photos, and I thought I’d do a series of posts this week about some of my favorite characters and homemade costumes, and how they inspire me to this day.

First up: Nightcrawler, of the X-Men.

There’s a reason why the X-Men are such enduringly popular characters: mutants are “other.” This makes them relatable to anyone who has ever felt not normal or excluded; anybody who has been feared or hated.

For a variety of rational and irrational reasons, I have felt like this my entire life. I’ve also learned that I’m not alone in feeling that way. The X-Men (among other pop culture teams) showed me that no matter who you are, there is a group of people out there who will love and accept you as their own, because you are one of them; this is clearly an influence on my own Weirdos series.

Mutants are not normal, excluded, feared and hated.

And look at this blue freak. He is all of the above.

But the thing about Nightcrawler is that he is the opposite of his appearance: he is friendly, and kind, and spiritual, and so thoughtful. He is a friend to all, even the aforementioned folks who fear and hate him.

He is the guy who tries to remain positive when the world is burning or trying to burn him down.

His current arc in the comics reflects all of this, and also has him questioning the whole idea of believing in anything at all. It has been an absolute joy to watch this character grow alongside me, and deal with the same thoughts and feelings I deal with today.

My mom brought it in both the costume and make-up department here. She always did.

There is no way you would know that I wasn’t actually a teleporting German demon if I didn’t open my fifth-grade mouth.

Just Another Day

October 16th, 2022

It’s just another day.

It’s football day.

My dread is warmer than usual, my anxiety sharper.

It’s not just another day.

My dad legally divorced the Minnesota Vikings in 1998 over an incident neither he nor millions of other sports fans had any control over.

My mom stayed committed to them.

That was what she did.

It became a point of humorous contention in our household. My dad, the jaded cynic, waiting in the wings to remind us that he told us so, that a zebra can’t change its purple stripes.

And my mom, smirking angel, holding on to hope every time.

A writer tends to tell the same story over and over again, and I learned a long time ago that each one of mine is about hope; having hope or losing it; giving hope or holding on to it.

It’s not a secret why. Hope was the house I lived in. My mom didn’t give me second chances; I was an arcade game with unlimited credits. I fucked up, she held onto hope that I would figure myself out, giving me reasons why I should, loving me without condition when I still hadn’t.

It’s two years today that she’s been gone.

I don’t live in a world that rejects me wholy. But my whole world spun on that axis of her hope for me. Nobody will ever see me like she did, and I haven’t been able to reconcile her absence and my worth.

Sometimes it feels like life said I didn’t deserve that kind of love.

So I try to see the world like she did. She wasn’t perfect and operated from dark spaces at times, but she always told me to be nice, and she knew kindness better than anyone I’ve met.

She taught me hope. Not through perfection, but through progress. I just have to make it through another day.

Today is just another day.

It’s not just another day.

Groundless

October 14th, 2022

I was going to write about fall today.

I had a lot of feelings yesterday and thought of some words I was going to write this morning. I was going to take a stunning photo of an autumn tree.

And then it snowed.

And what I really wanted to talk about came alive.

This is my week of loss.

I’ve written a lot about fall before. How, to me, it always feels like a beginning, even more than spring does. Fall makes me think of change, and I’ve been enamored with the three steps of change as presented in the 1980 book, Transitions:

1. The ending
2. The neutral zone
3. The new beginning

It’s a perfect layout, except it doesn’t cover loss.

Because of course there is an ending. The person dies. And then there is the neutral zone, the transition period, the time in which there is no ground beneath your feet.

You get disconnected.

But there is never a new beginning. Not with the human you miss. So you remain in transition for the rest of your life.

This isn’t a revelation of woe. No, not at all. It actually helps me understand why I feel this way.

I’m not broken or wrapped in a blanket of scratchy self-pity.

I’m groundless.

And while I can take those three steps with nearly every other change that comes my way (and I am right now, big time), I can’t with her.

I have an end, and then the end of the road we used to walk together. I can see over the edge of the sidewalk and there is nothing below, only what has been behind.

Leaving me to figure out a way to float on.

The MCU: Far Better World

October 13th, 2022

My favorite part about watching people complain about the current phase of the Marvel Cinematic Universe is that they are objectively wrong.

The future belongs to those who can see it.

At the convention in Rochester over the weekend, I had no problem choosing my favorite cosplay: a little girl, painted green, wearing a full business suit like her hero, She-Hulk.

It’s just beginning.

The generation of kids born right now will be brought into a world where characters like She-Hulk and Ms. Marvel already exist on a screen, like they have they always been there, like they have always belonged.

Stories exist for two reasons: to tell us something about ourselves, and to tell us something about other people.

I am not a woman or Muslim, nor do I have superpowers, but I have empathy and a willingness to learn about other human experiences; the always-surprising thing with learning about people you know nothing about is that they are more like you than you ever thought possible.

I’ve related to Jen and Kamala in ways that transcend physical and man-made identities.

And those are only two examples from the current phase, but the ones that inspired me to write a little about their importance, which some people would try to diminish now, but will only grow with time.

These are not heroes meant to inspire sad, racist, misogynistic, white, “adult” men who scream on the internet. At this point, nothing can inspire them.

These are the heroes that are going to inspire our kids to be brave and strong, to be kind and compassionate, and these stories will be here to remind them that no matter who they are, what they look like, what faith they keep, or how they identify, their stories matter, and they can be part of a far better world.

People can say that the current phase is disorganized or lacks a plan (which is hilarious, because we’re in the middle of something, and people don’t like it when they can’t guess the ending). Anyone who watched today’s She-Hulk finale got the last laugh; the entire season was an immaculate take-down of internet culture and a truly empowering story of someone figuring out just who she is, what she needs, and who she wants to be.

Yeah, people can complain while missing the whole point.

Superheroes aren’t meant for the mundane details that cynics would have you believe.

Superheroes are made for hope, in the business of making you believe.

And this brilliant phase has exactly that if you decide to give it a chance.

A Not-Slow News Week!

October 11th, 2022

Interviews! Awards! Mankato!

This week is full of good news if you’re a fan of me or bad news if you don’t like me or want me to succeed at all.

So shall we?

First things first: I have a new interview up at CanvasRebel! It’s short and sweet and has some stuff you may know and some stuff you may not, just like having an actual conversation with me in real life without the horror of listening to my voice.

You can find that at: https://canvasrebel.com/meet-dennis-vogen/

Next: I just found out that both Cold World and Brushfire are officially in contention for the 35th annual Minnesota Book Awards! They don’t announce the finalists until next year, but it’s still fun to see my work on the list.

You can see that list here: https://thefriends.org/minnesota-book-awards/current-submissions/

And FINALLY! MANKATO!

I am making a surprise addition to my Fall 2022 Tour with an appearance at 108 Alchemy on Saturday, November 5th, from 1 pm to 4 pm!

This is my first-ever stop in Mankato as a writer-artist and I could not be more excited. I hope to see you all soon!

You can check out the work of 108 Alchemy here: https://www.crystalcandlesmn.com/

Okay! No more news today! I bet you’re either delighted or disgusted by all this, or maybe even a little bit of both.

All my love. Hope you’re hanging in there.

On The Ground

October 10th, 2022

I just read an essay in which the writer was feeling paralyzed with fear because she felt as though she was living in the shadow of her audience’s expectations of her; she knows she can’t be the best of herself at all times, and people want to believe that you are the good things you write and nothing less.

It resonated with me greatly.

I write a lot about kindness, but I am not always kind, and I have done and been unkind things. I will continue this trend. This happens as a side effect of being human, and I present as human often.

The thing that keeps me going is that I genuinely want to be kind. To you. To myself. In every aspect of my life. So I keep trying.

A problem with religion is that when an individual uses it to say they can or cannot do something or allow someone else to do something, the outside observer then assesses that person’s entire life and judges how much of it is lived in accordance with the same rules they cite in this immediate case; the outside observer is correct in doing so, as the religious person is using those same rules to impose will and those rules need to be universal and just in order to be fair.

I hate to be a broken record, but nobody is perfect, and nowhere is it more apparent than in the realm of religious moral grandstanding.

I don’t want to dig deeper into that for the time being, but it’s the seed for secular and spiritual unrest in the world right now.

I just want to make something clear.

When I am nice to you, I am not doing it in hopes of heaven or fear of hell, because I believe in neither in the literal sense. I just want you know the feeling of someone being nice to you.

When I try to help you, I don’t do so because I feel like God is watching me. I help you because I want you to succeed.

I don’t listen to you because I need something. I listen to you because I care about you.

I don’t share my life with you in all these words because I’m confessing to anything. I share them because life is hard and I think it becomes easier when we’re honest with each other.

I don’t do things under spiritual threat. I do them to raise spirits.

And when I fail at any of those things, and I do, daily, I fail at them in the same human way that I can succeed at them.

So I keep trying.

And I think as long as we try, as skin and blood and steely bone, as brains and hearts and electric muscle, we have a chance of finding heaven on the ground.

NerdinOut Con 2022 Day 2

October 9th, 2022

Today at the convention, a kid walked up to my booth and picked up a copy of Brushfire. He looked carefully through it and then told me he wanted to look at everything in the room before he decided on what one thing he would buy.

He told me he might be back. I told him I hoped so.

A while later, he returned. Even his mom seemed surprised when she said he looked at everything in the room, and this copy of Brushfire was the thing he wanted the most.

This is probably the single best feeling I can find doing an event.

I actually encourage people to look around when they consider purchasing something from me. I usually joke that I’m not twisting their arm, and then I’m serious when I say that I’m not there to make a sale, but just talk.

I lose sales that way. I know for a fact I lost sales that way today. (But, like a proper jilted lover, I imagine that they go home, realize their grave error in judgement and cry “OMG I should have bought one of Dennis’ books instead, this is the greatest tragedy in the history of humankind lol fml.”)

All kidding aside, I want them to think about everything there is, and I want them to choose me because they think it’s the best choice for them. I think it changes the dynamic of our relationship. I don’t want to force anybody into these worlds. I want these worlds to be somewhere they want to be.

I really hope that kid enjoys Brushfire. I hope he’s not thinking “fml I made a huge mistake.”

Another huge thanks to everybody involved with NerdinOut Con 4: the people behind it, the people on the frontlines of it, and the people who attended it. It’s always a pleasure to hang out in Rochester and catch up with everybody there.

Coming up next: a surprise appearance TBA, and then Twin Cities Con. And then hibernation.

NerdinOut Con 2022 Day 1

October 8th, 2022

Holy cats, Rochester, you showed up today.

One of the first things I saw was a young boy with his dad. He had just walked into his first convention ever and he was telling his father how amazing it all was while they were in the moment, experiencing it together.

It was the kind of feeling you wish could last forever. I was just happy it lasted all day.

It was so good to see so many faces, familiar and new; NerdinOut is my longest-running con (three years and counting), and the number of people who remember me and come back to my table to catch up or tell me how they feel about my work (so many feelings, you guys!) is delightful. In a rare occurrence, I actually sold out of a book (Them + Us will be back in stock at Twin Cities Con, but for now it is SOLD OUT SUCKAS).

Being at a con means doing a note-perfect pitch and then shoving your foot in your mouth so hard and then having a life-affirming moment with someone who was really affected by something you did to flubbing all your lines and then word vomiting and still somehow making a sale, all in five minutes time.

I live for it.

And if you’re living for it, too, come see me tomorrow as we wrap this baby up for the year. Sunday is a short day, which just means we’re doing this high energy, high cardio, and highly caffeinated.

See you soon.

Amsterdam

October 4th, 2022

I knew very little of what I wanted to be as a dad.

My friend Kim and I were talking about our families after work tonight; as a special ed teacher, she encountered countless parents who weren’t sure how to react to their families being “different.”

She shared with me a story she had on a poster in her classroom (paraphrasing, of course).

Imagine you dreamed of Greece. You spent your entire life thinking about Greece; but not just thinking, planning for Greece. You saved your money and you obsessed over every detail and one day you finally got on a plane to fly to Greece.

And when you arrived, after a lifetime of anticipation, you walked into the terminal and it said: “Welcome to Amsterdam.”

That’s what life can be like. But you get to decide what to do once you’re there.

I told her I grew up feeling like I had a lot of expectations on me (and I still do), for so many reasons; as the oldest, as the only boy, as the son of two amazing people.

I feel like I’m constantly letting people down, so one of the only things I knew when I found out I was going to be a dad is that I wasn’t going to have any expectations for my child. He was going to lead, and I would try to follow.

I didn’t plan on going to Greece. I didn’t plan on seeing Amsterdam.

I just got on the plane.

And the only thing I knew I could do for sure was love him and be his buddy and try to teach him how to be kind and funny and unlike me and I’ve just spent most of my time trying to not fuck it all up.

And that was the best possible thing I could have done.

I don’t have regrets about missing Greece, because I never set a destination. I’m not disappointed in where I am now, because I looked around at the country in which I found myself, and I fell in love with it.

Because no matter where you go, there is so much to love. And the only thing that will ever be in your way are your own expectations.

Amsterdam is where I was always meant to be.