Former Vermont resident, Michael A. Stackpole, has a post up on his blog recounting his own history with the Conan series (which has now come full circle with his adaptation of the upcoming Conan film):
I have to start this adventure forty years ago, when I was thirteen. That’s when I first discovered Conan. I have to start there because the boy in Vermont reading those books, falling in love with Belît, thrilling to the adventures of the Cimmerian, never would have believed it possible that he’d have written a Conan novel, much less attend the World Premiere of the film Conan The Barbarian in Los Angeles.
Because I grew up in Vermont, Los Angeles was only slightly closer to my existence than was Howard’s Hyborean Age. It wasn’t that I was ignorant of where LA was, I just didn’t care. I knew I wanted to write, but back then it never really clicked for me that scripts had to be written. And novelizations of scripts, that was an almost unknown art. I guess it got done from time to time—technically the novel Thunderball is a novelization of the script—but all that was part of a process of which I was ignorant.
Read the rest of the post here.