World con was great! But what made it great wasnít the panels, or the parties,
but the people. Letís face it, once youíve been to a couple of cons,
youíre not going to learn much in the panels. Finding An Agent is the same
panel at any con, thereís just Bigger Name Authors on it at World Con.
No, the real joy of World Con for me was finally getting the chance to
meet all the people Iíve only known on-line all this time. And for the
most part, they were exactly who they made themselves out to be. Marsha
really is Marsha--funny, sweet, and not afraid to put me in my place when
required. Janís our den mother, making sure we donít get to far out of
line, but not spoiling any of our fun either. Snagyís a great guy, and
a consummate schmoozer in his own right. Then thereís the pros--Charlie
and Karin, along with James Steven-Arce and Cecilia Dart-Thornton, who
took us under their respective wings and got us into places where we had
no right to be, then made sure we met all the right people.
And letís not forget the Del Rey people--Ellen (who brought us all together),
E (who actually did turn me into a head shot), Amber (one funny, sweet
Canuck), Tempest (Crispy Cream connoisseur), Josh (who put up with me,
even though I havenít returned his crit yet), Ruth (see Josh), Deanna (Iím
going to start a collection to see if we canít get you a watch), Bonnie
(the woman has the patience of a saint), Angela (congrats on the sale!)
Julia (who was gracious enough to pretend to know who I was), Kathleen
(a class act), Jeanette (who did me the honour of letting me help out at
the Masquerade, something Iíll never forget) Roger (Piano Man), Nancy Proctor
(a Texan with attitude--whoíd a thunk it?) and Kate (who I canít say enough
nice things about, so I wonít, other than--Congrats for wining the Gallery
And as Ellen said, now itís time to give our real bodies back and get back
to cyber-space where we belong.
Pen and I went to see Musketeer today. Great swordplay! The brawl in the
tavern at the beginning was worth the price of admission alone.
And I found out my wife and daughter routinely get changed in the car.
Yep, just before the movie, Pen changed from her shorts into her jeans,
right there in the mall parking lot. I was appalled, I was aghast, I was
swerving all over the place trying to make sure no one could peak in the
car! And this from the woman who wonít slow dance with another guy because
she thinks itís too personal.
Oh, yeah. We bought a new computer today. (I hope you have stock in Compaq,
Kate, because we spent enough to drive the shares up a notch or two.) Pen
decided Chantel needed a computer for school, so I got an upgrade, and
she gets my old one. Does anyone else get the impression that my wife knows
exactly how to press my buttons to get what she wants?
It's my brother's birthday today:
H A P P Y B I R T H D A Y J A M E S !!!
and his wife's birthday
on the 11th?:
H A P P Y B I R T H D A Y K A T H Y!
And it's payday on
the 15th: H A P P Y P A Y D A
and garbage day on
Wednesday: H A P P Y G A R B A
G E D A Y !!!.
Okay, so I got a little carried away. So sue me!
In case you didn't notice the big yellow link at the top of the page, I've
posted pictures of Worldcon 2001. Check 'em out, eh.
As a writer I feel totally inadequate to the task of putting into words
how the last few days have affected me. So I wonít. Itís a private matter
anyhow, and each of us will remember this day in their own way, as their
disposition allows. No witty banter today. That in itself should give you
some idea of how I feel.
Legend has it that in-between places are magical. Cross roads, doorways,
midnight, the equinoxes--magic and the supernatural are at peak potency
whenever the boundaries are unclear. Which is nice to know, I suppose,
but it sucks when it applies to your life.
There's nothing magical about uncertainty. Am I posted? Could be, but probably
not this year. Next year? Almost certainly--or not. Will I be published?
My manuscripts are in limbo: agents have asked for them; publishers have
requested them; no one's getting back to me.
Of course, no one ever said magic was pleasant.
Women are sneaky. No wait--that's an unfair generalization. Let me rephrase
that: Pen is sneaky. She won't come right out and tell me to, say, clean
the eaves trough. That would be tantamount to an order, and I'd probably
ignore it out of spite. And she knows that. So she's found a way around
See, she goes to work before I do. Every morning when I wake up there's
a note on the kitchen table telling me how much she loves me and stuff.
That part's great. It's the P.S. that's a killer: P.S. Thanks in advance
for mowing the lawn. I mean, I can't just not do it now. She's already
thanked me and everything.
I think I've figured out a way to get even, though. Before I go to bed
at night, I'll leave her my own little note: P.S. Sorry for in advance
for not doing the dishes tomorrow. She can't really get pissed, right?
I've all ready apologized and everything. Yeah, I know. Nice try.