Got home late-ish Monday night. Didn’t get the chance to do more than scan through my email and snailmail yesterday (17 pound box of mail this week) and then ran off to Northampton for an Altan concert with matociquala and mcurry. And I’m working late tonight so I’m not sure that I’ll get to any sort of details any moment soon. As seems to be the case with cons lately, I brought home the sniffles. It’s darned annoying and slowing me down. Oh, what the heck… These letters can wait and see if I’m still awake enough to do them when I stop typing.
Got in just in time to check in and make Jim Butcher‘s reading. At the request of the crowd, he read from Dresden #7, currently titled _Dead Beat_. His fans were quite enthusiastic about it, and I enjoyed hearing him read it. Several questions were also asked about his new series: Codex Alera (the first book of which sold in Russia yesterday!). mcurry and I hung back until they’d all left and then Jim and his lovely wife Shannon discovered that, like us, they were in need of dinner. So, we introduced them to Marche since they’d never been to one. It was fun and we talked about all sorts of things, from comic books to the ubiquitious City of Heroes game (and, yes, a little business got mixed in there). By the time we were done it was just past 11pm, and I decided to take an early-ish night because….
….started with a breakfast meeting with Sharon Lee and Steve Miller. Many different projects were discussed, and there is much brewing. I dashed off afterwards to make the reading of the Thackery Guide — partially to see Jay Lake and hopefully to make the acquaintance of Cory Doctorow. I especially liked Jay’s goggles (and hope the picture mcurry took comes out). They were all quite, er, dramatic. I managed to fit in a bit of shopping in the dealers’ room then – getting a pile of books started at Larry Smith’s table and stopping to meet the people at the Buzzy booth. Drinks dates with Elizabeth Bear, then Craig Shaw Gardner — lots of good stuff coming from both. Finished the early part of the evening off at the Avon party where there was much schmoozing to be had and I got to smell Neil Gaiman’s jacket. *g* And then back to the bar for the first annual two beers and a short story contest, instigated, I believe, by Laura Anne Gilman. We had five lovely and talented contestants and a decent amount of audience participation (mostly the yelling of “drink” at inappropriate moments). And after that, we had to appease the great and powerful Alison by putting in an appearance at Frank Wu‘s party, where Jay smashed a rocket over his head and a great bounty of candy was bestowed.
Luckily I managed to fit in some time early on in the day to see the art show (where the thing I really wanted to buy had a starting bid of $1500 — which means, naturally, that I skipped it). Some really wonderful pieces on display. Also got the chance to chat for a short bit with tryslora and see pics of the progress made on her old house (but only one frontal shot of her new house). Her photos were trumped by ahf, though, who took great, but perverse, pride in showing me the interior of the so-called “Peach Pit” she and caulay are in the process of buying – a condo with a decor done entirely in peach. Entirely. *shudder* Moving right along – rescued suricattus from the last bits of her participation with the Musketeers and had drinks before we crashed matociquala‘s reading from _Hammered_. Afterwards, dinner was had at Elephant Walk – a very fine pick made by suricattus and enjoyed by myself, herself, matociquala and mcurry. We had to make it back to the hotel in time for the launch party for _Staying Dead_ (along with _Dragon Precinct_ and _Metal Sky_). Somewhere in here, I’m pretty sure there was another trip to the Sheraton Bar — mostly because I remember the screaming and cheering when, first Jay showed up and had won the Campbell, and then Frank showed up and had won a Hugo.
I began with brunch with Jim and Shannon Butcher – we tied up whatever strings had been left hanging from the other night and just generally discussed future plans. From there, I went straight to meet Mike Shepherd-Moscoe, and treated myself to a mimosa while we talked over his various projects. Afterwards, I managed to go to the only panel I attended this convention – something about Fantasy Noire. I had a quick break to swing through the dealers’ room again where I picked up some Burroughs books for my dad for Christmas (since I’ve stolen most of his copies over the years). Then I was off to more meetings – the adventurous dianora2 whom I knew would be unable to resist the espresso martini; Pat Hodgell; Jay Lake (and, yes, I do forgive you for being in the wrong bar – really). My last meeting of the day was with Patricia Bray and we headed out to Finale for dessert to die for (and it was really good). Of course, the con had taken its toll by then, and my voice dropped out right in the middle of the meeting. It didn’t come back, even with the coaxing of the fine cask-strength Macallan that Ric and Anne served in their room later that night (where we watched the Masquerade on tv and were most entertained by the one-man rendition of Star Wars).
Though many people were seen in passing, this was mostly taken up by getting things together to leave, picking up books from Larry, figuring out how to get around the problem with the T and out to Alewife where the car was, and all that fun stuff. On a total lark, we ended up driving to Northampton and having dinner at Spoleto. Of course, this put us home much later than planned, but it was worth it.
And here ends my report. There are probably – as always – a few details I’ve forgotten. I met quite a lot of people, including several who I’m guessing read my blog. But now I really need to work on a few letters before I take more drugs to stifle these annoying cold symptoms and fall over.