Monday, April 21th, 2003 - Nebulated I need to do a con report. There's so much to say about such a short period of time. Tim sits up here in the garrett, and his keys pitter patter without the starts and fits my own have. It's such a soothing rhythm, Tim's typing. Reassuring that it can come that easily. He rocks, by the way. My fiance. He's cool and cute and talented and good things happen to him. And he's sweet on me. It's a lovely combination. Today Tim found out he's been invited to Rio Hondo Writer's Workshop this year. It's so cool, such an honor. I'm very happy for him, and I think he should do it if we can afford it. But you'll have to forgive me if a part of me is sad about this. Since Tim moved in, we haven't spent a night apart; Rio Hondo is a full week. I'm going to miss him horribly. Don't get me wrong, he should totally go, but somedays I don't want us to part just for work. He says he's going to miss me, too, and I believe him; but he's the one who gets to go to this very cool workshop. So, another part of me is jealous. But, mostly, I'm excited for him. Hell, I've been excited for him all weekend and before that, too. Things are rolling in for my honey, that's for damn sure! Hm, so I'll try to skip most of the travel to the Nebulas, since that involves getting up at 5am, three bad movies on the airplanes, cramped legs and motion sickness (which is worse every time I travel; I hate aging!). We got into Philly in the early evening on Friday. After a confusing summoning of transport, we crammed into a van, got a tour while the driver dropped off a lot of other folks, and arrived at our hotel. In the lobby we waved to Charles Brown, Jennifer Hall and Gordon van Gelder as we went up to check in. We were exhausted, and I never recognize Gordon on the first re-meeting because he always surprises me with his youth, every time. We actually didn't talk to many editors at all this con. Lots of writers, though. Anyway, at 8pm was a ceremony where Tim got his name called out, his picture taken, and his hands stuffed with a fancy certificate (suitable for framing) and a wrapped Nebula pin that I had to open for him. We listened to Harry Harrison and Catherine McKlean talk about the good ol' days of science fiction, which was pretty cool to hear. Harry especially was a wonderful speaker. The next day we heard a similar speech by Phillip Klass (aka William Tenn). Seems they drank alot and slept with each other's wives alot back then. Made me and my peeps sound pretty tame, actually. At least, from what I know of them ;-) I chatted a bit with Ellen Datlow (who definitely seems to know who I am, yay) and Eileen Gunn (who I knew knew me already) and made jokes that only Tim got (not on purpose, I just don't think they expected me to make jokes, I guess). Ok, so Friday night Tim and I felt kinda out of our depth. Seemed like everyone there was very, er, venerable and we retreated (rather exhausted, actually) to our room, where we tossed and turned before and after we tried to sleep. Saturday we fared much better with the socializing. At the mass signing I left Tim sitting next to his place by Michael Swanwick, while I snapped photos of various of writer couples. I think I got Jim Morrow and his wife Kathy and Robert Metzger and his wife April. I got several books signed, and ended up chatting a fair bit with Andy Duncan, who is so very nice and fun to talk to. I ended up bringing Tim over, and we had a lovely time chatting; Andy is very easy going, and he felt like one of our peeps (who we'd been sorely missing Friday night). Very cool. Tim actually sold three copies of Floodwater and had a goodly number of folks come by and chat with him, so he didn't even feel that left out of the signing. I got a great shot of him explaining our chapbook to Michael Swanwick, which hopefully he'll post tonight (he's got all the pics on his computer). On the way back to the hotel, we saw Neil Gaiman chatting with the Haldeman's on a street corner, but we didn't stop as they were in conversation. Back at the hotel, we sat in the lobby and chatted with Andy for a bit, and after not too long Neil and his daughter, Holly came into the hotel and stood in the lobby. Tim, seeing his opportunity, dragged me up to meet him. Neil obviously recognized Tim's name, and he greeted him and turned to me and said, "You must be the Heather who's supposed to run up and greet me wearing blue. And there you are, in blue. Hello!" See, Tim had emailed Neil when he found out earlier this week that he was unexpectedly attending the Nebulas and warned him that if "a beautiful young woman wearing blue runs up grinning madly, not to worry, it's my fiancee and she's been dying to meet you forever." So, I managed to keep my shit together and have a lovely 5 minute or so chat with Neil and Holly and Tim, about college and Japanese food and rubber chicken. He left to meet up with his agent (who was meeting with Charles and Jenny) and we went back to Andy, whereupon I proceeded to let myself melt into my seat over having just met Neil Gaiman. Oooh. I'm a little better around Neil than I am around China, but man, was I fluttery afterwards! Neil was charming and easy to chat with and so easy going . . . very at ease with himself, and made me feel like I totally belonged there, idly chatting with the rock star of speculative fiction as if we were equals. Siiiiighh. So, um, yes. Where was I? Oh, yes, Neil. So, Neil says . . . Just kidding. The banquet was Saturday night, and it was mostly a lot of fun. The socializing ahead of time was pretty fun -- I got a picture taken of myself between Tim and Tom Purdom (arranged by Charles as an attempt to validate putting our picture in Locus). I sat next to Mary Hussey from Luna Books (the new fantasy/ romance line from Harlequin) and drank Tom Purdom's wine he was kind enough to share with us. It was lovely to hear Tim's name be read out at the Nebula banquet, even if he didn't win (and I thought he had a shot, though I suppose that's to be expected from his fiancee). Eileen Gunn had given me an Ursula K. LeGuin mask to wear while she read LeGuin's acceptance speech for the Grand Master award ("While I can not be there myself, I have sent my clones . . ") and afterwards those of us with Ursula masks got to be in some of the Nebula pix. In fact, someone wanted a picture of Neil Gaiman in an Ursula mask and he used mine (I made him give it back, though, because, as I pointed out to him, "You've got your Nebula souvenir already, though if you want to trade that's ok by me.") I was bitterly disappointed by the bagpipe music they played for us to dance to afterwards, as it cleared the room fast. Tim and I went up to the con suite, riding up with John Joseph Adams from F&SF (I brilliantly commented, "You're JJA!" even though that nickname is a rumormill one; oh well.). Not only did John recognize my name, he commented that he really loved "that story with the kids on the beds . . . I sent that one on to Gordon, it really grabbed me". I sent him that story last *summer*, yo, and he remembered it! And my name! I was so very flattered . . . too bad Gordon rejected it, but still! We spent the rest of the evening chatting withj JJA, until I was bleary from lack of sleep. Sunday was a blur of travel, signing up for frequent flyer miles (finally!) and taking pictures of dinosaur skeletons in airports. A very good weekend overall, I think. I hope we have as good a reason to go every year! Network here.

Exercise Log: Dancing around for an hour to distract the baby from his teething while Holly went to the grocery store. Aleister likes dancing. Writing log: Started a new story, working title "House Story" (I have a better title, but Tim's made me all superstitious of titling things before they're finished) on BART this morning. Am very pleased with it so far. V. surreal. Current Publications: "Famishing" in Strange Horizons. My first pro sale! "Wetting the Bed" and a collab with Tim Pratt, "A Serious Case of Fairies" in Floodwater "How to Suck" reprinted in From Porn to Poetry: Clean Sheets Celebrates the Erotic Mind Currently Reading: Singularity Sky by Charles Stross (A treat they gave out at the Nebulas!) Polyphony 2 ed. by Deborah Layne and Jay Lake (A treat waiting for me in the mail when I got home!) Donate money to my teeth, my grad school application fees, our writerly projects (Floodwater and Flytrap!). Every little bit helps!

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