Last day at comicon. I’m going in for only 4 or 5 hours, (which means I’ll actually get home around 2 if that. Traffic is interesting) because it’s our first week sort of in the new house, and there’s tons of little stuff to do. (Mostly unpack, but also unpack, and also minor repairs and adaptations.)
Some things about comicon, first: despite claims these aren’t “our kind of people” by older, more established cons, the fact is that on that very first day, approaching the con (and circling. And circling. Slower than a slow walk. No, seriously) there was a line around two blocks, and my son (who was looking for a place to drop me off) and I looked at it and said “our people.”
It wasn’t the costumes. In fact, about half the costumes are for things my son recognizes but I don’t. My affinity with dinos comes from the fact I’m one. For fun, I read, write, and if push comes to shove, go build furniture or crochet of of course go look at dinos in a museum. I DO NOT RPG, watch tv, play computer games, read comics… Which means I miss a lot of the fandom. My loss, but I yam what I yam. (Okay, lie, I read comics, but it’s Disney and no one counts those.)
It was the way of standing, the way of moving, the way people look (yeah, some of us try very hard to pass and it would be nice if the hormone adjustment weren’t packing more pounds on me than… well, than I’ve ever had) but still, there’s often something… odd about us. Or as Kate says, our bodies match our minds. It’s also the way we dress. Pratchett caught that mood exactly when he has the pigwitch wear forks in her hair. I mean if chopsticks, why not forks.
And of course, this was our people, letting their hair down, not our people at the office on Wednesday, so they were letting the Odd flag fly. Take one lady who came to our booth, wearing a dragon ear sleeve, dragon contact lenses, and a dress that was a wild assemblage of flying bits of cloth. I was kind of at the back, looking at her features. She was pretty enough. Regular features, good bones. BUT in a sort of unremarkable sort of way. And in front of those dragon eye lenses, she wore tortoise-shell glasses. Wipe away the make up, put her in a suit and I bet she melts into the business meeting tomorrow. She’s “That lady in research who always know the answer and is incredibly correct and polite” I bet. Unless she’s among their kind and safe.
Now is everyone there a science ficiton reader? More than I’d expect. We’ll say that. You get a lot of parents who are convinced SF/F is for kids and though they don’t read it themselves are walking around leading progeny and asking every booth “Do you have stuff for children.” Some of them insist on buying my shifters. I GUESS they could do worse?
Another point is that age, ethnicity or Spanish accent and halting construction of sentences do not denote a reader or non reader. The last might sound like kettle calling the pot accented, but come on, I don’t have a problem building English sentences. OTOH he asked the right questions and spoke clearly about the past of the field, so he’s definitely a reader. Heck, most engineers hesitate in their own language, why not in their second language.
Oh, and several of you — okay, several instapundit readers, but there’s overlap — came to see me yesterday and asked about putting fictional hits on some of my colleagues who have annoyed them. My. What a murderous lot you are.
And now I’ll go. There will be more about comicon, including the fact that the warning voice from the ceiling does this “The public is coming, the public is coming” for half an hour before they open to the public. You know “The doors will open to the public in half an hour/twenty minutes/ten minutes” and then just “The public is coming.”
Next year I shall have a camera and a willing fan, and we will do a “running with the fans: version of running with the bulls in pamplona. A lot of us writers running in front of a horde of fan who try to pry books/autographs from us. It will be glorious!