Really, what the h*ll happened? When did I become a name writer, one whom fans travel hundreds of miles to attend?
I’m still spinning and peopled-out from that con, and need some time to process.
It started badly. We hit Atlanta, and the restaurant at which we normally have lunch which is 17 minutes away from the airport took us two hours to reach.
The con, which normally takes three hours driving, took seven.
The highway was down to six miles per hour at times. Now visualize that moving speed and trucks trying to change lanes to a packed lane. I’ve never been that scared on a highway with Dan driving since our honeymoon when he drove in snow in Boston after two weeks in Portugal, jetlagged and half asleep.
All the way there, my phone was beeping with texts of people giving me their room numbers and asking if I was going to be at x, y and z.
As we crept closer to the one event I’d set up at 10pm, I was getting frantic. Particularly as I was getting contradictory tweets where the con suite (where I’d set it) was open/closed. It was WEIRD.
We had to pick up Robert’s girlfriend at the airport at Chatt. too, at 9 pm, and for a while there, I was arranging backup plans, in case we didn’t get there in time. We did. Barely. We offloaded suitcases and number two son, and went to pick her up.
I was a little nervous about that too, because Robert insisted she meet the “extended family” before they decided they were serious and I was going “What a horrible thing to do to a girl, even a writer, to drag her to her first SF/F con when it’s one where we know everyone, and she’ll be watched? What if she doesn’t get our jokes? What if she hates our friends? I mean… I was nervous.
Then we picked her up and on the way back from the airport, I told Dan “Be careful, don’t run over the jaywalking couple!” And she said “Aw. But we get extra points.” And I knew she’d be all right. So I was free to start on the con worries.
It started with the reading. No, not my reading. Well, sort of. My reading, but not my book, rather an erotic SF tale, which halfway through degenerated into an instructional time on how to write and what not to do.
–Do you guys want a mini-workshop for next year? I can ask Rich for a 3 hour block or so, to go over how to hook the reader, etc. Yes, no?
There were a lot more of you there than I expected, and I got to bed much too late. This was to become a theme.
I swear, I couldn’t go ten steps without tripping over fans stacked ten deep for autographs, or introductions or just to talk.
— WHEN did this become a thing with me?
Anyway, I had a panel to promote the Tombstone antho, and skipped the reading because Dan was inexplicably on a zombie panel. He’s never REALLY written zombies. So he didn’t want to go it alone, and I ended up going with him, to help and to talk about Black Tide.
Sorry if any of you missed me at the reading.
I didn’t have any panels to promote Darkship Revenge, because the one Space Opera panel on Sunday was… odd, and went mostly into movies and what we’d read. So, do a writer a favor and consider buying the book.
I also apologize if you went to the signing party for Four Horsemen looking for me. I wasn’t in the anthology because at the last minute, I ran out of brain and time. So, I’m sorry.
The Huns breakfast was profoundly weird, partly because the owner of City Cafe was unable to understand “loose group, sit us in waves, as close as you can to our friends” and insisted on sitting the dozen or so I came in with as a group, which meant he sent us to the back room to wait. In the meanwhile there were already 5 tables of our people, in various stages of breakfast completion and he got testy when I went out to greet them.
When you consider we were supposed to have two breakfasts, I think we’ve outgrown the City Cafe. If/when they know where LC will be next year, I’m going to try to get one of the banquet rooms and have breakfast catered, if possible by Jonny LaForce.
It will be announced “in the councils of the Huns.”
The “if there is one” is because we have a hotel for 2020 but we might not secure one for 2019 in time. So be patient, you’ll be informed.
The con ended with a mass dinner at Rodizio, with Speaker and a bunch of friends. Well, a large bunch. Two sets ended up in separate tables. There too, a banquet room is being contemplated.
We came home on the third and when we arrived I thought I was fine and could do a party. Glad saner heads prevailed, as that party was an hour drive away. We went to a diner for dinner, and by the end of it, I was nodding off. I barely made it home before falling asleep.
Yesterday I was scattered with a chance of weirdness. Because the last thing we wanted to do was brave Downtown Denver for fireworks (the traffic, the time) we went to one of the little neighboring towns to watch them. It worked really well, as on the way we watched something like seven firework displays all around, some obviously professional. And even though I’m fairly sure we parked in a cow pasture, to watch the fireworks, and it was probably illegal to do so (not absolutely sure. It was dark!) it was a wonderful display.
I came home with just enough awakeness to make it to bed. Which again, is why I’m late this morning.
I still don’t understand my bewildering popularity at the con. It’s never been like this before. What happened between last year and this? Who knows?
Loved seeing all of you though, and sorry for the ones I missed. I really was overwhelmed.