Tuesday, September 3rd 2002 - Beer and Fine China Life is crushing back in on me already, so I should definitely write something of a con report now before the glow fades completely . . . Lovely, simply lovely. Oh, and exhausting too, yes, but a good kind of exhausted that comes from talented, intelligent, fun company and five days in which to enjoy it. I cannot do a detailed report. But I'll tell a few stories and try to give y'all the sense of my ConJose experience. Thursday started late, with me throwing almost my entire wearable summer wardrobe into my expanding black suitcase. Tim and I ate at Mama's to kick off me breaking my diet for 5 days (did not gain back the weight I already lost, so I don't even have to feel guilty, yay!). We drove down, inspected the Ramada, which was nice for a motel but was still, you know, a motel. The three blocks distance from it to the nearest con events wouldn't have mattered were it not for the rather extreme heat, the likes of which I haven't had to put up with for so many days in a row since 5 years ago in Indiana. Ah well. All that exercise probably helped me work off all that fancy food and beer I had over the weekend. Highlights from Thursday include meeting a couple of Tim's Clarion classmates, Tom Grenecer and David Barr Kirtley. We had a great time having drinks with them in the pit ("our" corner of the posh lobby/bar at the Fairmont -- Tim and I never sat anywhere else in that bar for the rest of the weekend. Strangely comforting, having an arbitrary home base like that). I was still well-rested and it was a very good social night for me (the others were good too, but I wasn't quite as sharp without full sleep). We all headed up to the Clarion party in Avi Bar-Ze'ev, Sean Klein and Ben Rosenbaum's room. The question, "Which Clarion class were you in?" was floating around the room so often that I finally came up with a decent answer to it for myself: "2006." When Ben Rosenbaum heard this, he commented "Oh, you're a time-traveller!" "Yes," I said, "In fact, I believe you taught that year." Man, I was proud of that comeback. I had a wonderful chat with Ben, hung out with him and Susan and Mary Anne and Jed. Met more people whom I'm forgetting, and eventually had to go to bed. It was the first of many nights where my body would demand sleep long before the rest of me was ready to turn in. Friday was a day of readings, finally getting to meet Greg van Eekhout and Mike Jasper and the illusive Dave Moles whom I know from posts on Greg's board. Greg and Tim read earlier in the day, both of them giving inspirational, animated performances of stories (and, in Tim's case, poetry) that I've read before. Sam Ling did her first reading ever, a charming piece about a mermaid (or was she?) and a fisherman (and that's not doing justice to the complexity of the story). Mike Jasper read right after me, and his reading was a wild story about Zombie Surfers, full of energy and fun accents. Of my own two readings, I think the earlier one was my best. It was still early in the day, so I was full of energy (and a beer). I was a little out of breath when I started, but I soon got over it and let myself really get into the reading, moving around and acting out bits of it. I love love love reading/ performing! I read "Famishing", and people seemed to really like it. Even if the crowd was probably the friendlist crowd (and I use the term loosely -- there were about 8-10? people there) I've ever read in front of. Meh. I think my sentence structure is breaking down already. Past bedtime. Must. Update. Journal . . . Ok. I was trying to be too detailed. So, Friday night -- chic-chic publisher parties which were fun to go to (Tim's job was our connection on the invites), but ultimately just not as satisfying as sitting around with Tim, Greg, Mike, Dave and Derek Jones, drinking beer and having chicken wings (well, I had quesadillas and cheese sticks, but the bar-food feel was still there) and shooting the breeze. Reminded me of how I always ended up hanging out with the guys in college. So much fun. Everyone was just as wonderful -- sometimes even more so -- as they are online/in email. Let's see, Locus panel, fun -- especially seeing Tim talk about his job and read his haiku. He can really speak well in front of people and had his intro to his poetry down pat. The haiku were well received and might even be printed in Locus itself (and if not, then definitely on the website). The Locus party, later on, was pretty fun, even if I did miss most of the Strange Horizons tea party. I managed to talk to China Mielville without blushing, fluttering my hands or dropping anything. At one point we were talking about the new Mac OS when I asked, "Isn't that the one code-named Jaguar?" to which China replied by turning to me and giving a rather sexy little growl. I growled back, without even blushing. Yeah, it's an image I'll have for quite some time. Most of the guys seemed fairly annoyed by the way all us women were melting over China (except Greg, who was very amusing about it), but, really. He's just so beautiful and talented and it's hard not to get a little weak-kneed. I felt pretty good after snarling back at China, so when I accidently drank Gardener Dozois' water (it wasn't really his -- I'd taken the last one right before he went for one, so he had to use wine to take his pills) I managed to be chatty about it, not stammering and horrified. I think I caught him checking out my nametag , so hopefully he was charmed and not mentally blacklisting me. Heh. Ahem. The Tor party was so hot I thought I'd pass out. I sat resolutely by the window, convince if I moved I'd just be hotter, but perhaps it would've helped to walk around more. We played spot the famous person -- authors then editors (much trickier, editors). I'm doing ok at recognition, which Tim will tell you is not my strong suit. I'm meeting a lot of well-known folks, thanks to Tim's job. Nice having a hooked-up boyfriend. What else? Did lots of panels on Sunday -- the state of SF publishing, which was pretty good, even if one of the editors couldn't mention the internet without also stating the most of it was crap (grr). Won't even start my rant there. The Terry Pratchett, Tad Williams, Allison Lonsdale and Phil Fogilo improv story was pretty funny -- nice to see Pratchett is just as funny in person. The Singularity panel was interesting, but I wasn't feeling well and was tired of sitting on hard chairs, so I got up twice for water and stretching. Neat to hear Ben and Avi talk about it ahead of time -- smart people. Man. Ok, um, hooked up with our posse (Dave, Greg, Mike, Derek and me and Tim) for Indian food and the Hugo night. The Hugo's themselves were fun -- good speeches and a surprise appearance by Sean Astin (I think) when Lord of the Rings won best Dramatic Presentation. (I totally forgot to tell you about seeing Patrick Stewart give his 45-minute commercial for Nemesis and Xmen 2 on Friday. Um, he was charming, sexy and British. Yum, bald British men!) SH didn't win, but I was happy for Mark Kelly winning for Locus too. Same with novel; I'd voted and rooted for China, but it's hard to begrudge Neil Gaiman his hugo when he was so utterly charming and stunned and happy about it. His speech was great (paraphrase follows): "There were 3 things I wanted when I was 14. Heat vision. The names of the twins who rode the train with me every day to school. And to win a Hugo. A few years ago I realized I didn't write the sort of thing to win a Hugo. And now I've got one. Fuck, I've won a Hugo. Thank you!" So cute. The rest of the night was me trying to lead the group of us to a good party (I failed to find the original party, but I gave it a damn good try and even borrowed -- that's BORROWED, Greg ;-) -- a fan to donate to the party we ended up at. Too bad we had to leave it behind on that floor the party definitely wasn't. Too many stairs this con.) We ended up in the SFWA suite, chatting until I wasn't really coherent any longer, not wanting to say good-bye to Greg and Mike and Dave. As we left the hotel that night, Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett were sitting with some other people in OUR spot in the bar. It was kind of nice, seeing them there, sort of reminder that they're just keeping the seats warm for us, until we, too, have accomplished as much as they have. Hey, it sounds vain, I know, but me and all my speculative writing (and editing) friends? We're damn cool. (Mushy poetry will have to wait for now. Sleep now.)

Exercise Log: Stairs. Walking in hot sun. Standing. Breathing near China Mieville. Writing log: Too much to think about -- plans for lots. Current Publications: The Ever-After Book Shoppe (a collaboration with Tim Pratt in Slow Trains Literary Journal In the Shade of You nominated in the long poem category for the Rhysling and will be reprinted in the 2002 Rhysling Anthology! "How to Suck" reprinted in From Porn to Poetry: Clean Sheets Celebrates the Erotic Mind I've been reading: Currently Reading: Pyramids by Terry Pratchett

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