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To answer the second-place response: I had a great deal of fun, yes. One mild shadow on the convention, but it will work itself out or not, as that person chooses. Otherwise, saw old friends, met new ones, received much authorial ego-boo, spent far too much time discussing cricket, and made some potentially interesting and profitable contacts. Also drank much single malt; ate duck and pigeon, salmon and fish-and-chips, and didn’t have a bacon bap, with or without the mysterious brown sauce; was finally talked into trying blood pudding (not bad, but not something I feel the urge to consume again any time soon); Acquired (or was Acquired by) Pretties, and laughed a great deal.
The overwhelming winner was a request for gory details. Okay. Have gone over what I remember, double-checked it with my lawyer, and came up with the following postable bits:
Thursday: Arrived. Checked in. Was mugged by one of
elisem’s necklaces. Resisted. Went off and was fed and feted and generally had a First Night of WorldCon. The Hilton was a haul from the Armadillo, but the concierge floor was worth the upgrade in terms of quiet and comfort. A very late night sitting up gossiping with UK friends, and then an utter and absolute crash.
Friday: Wake at 9. Think, blearily, “I have something at 10, don’t I?” Zoom to get ready, arrive at signing thinking “oh well, at least Walter and Rebecca and I can have a good shmooze.” Well, we did, but I also had lovely shmoozes with the people who kept lining up (‘a line? There’s a line?’ ‘Yes, Gilman, three or more people waiting makes a line!’) to get my signature. And this despite the fact that only Borderlands had any copies of the books (and Alan only had one of each). Ah, for Larry Smith when you need him…
Had to show people the necklace (“They Come Back in Spring”) at
elisem’s table. Tried to resist. Discovered resistance is futile when the jeweler has Wiles and is willing to use them. Pretties! Managed to resist any and everything else, though.
11:30 reading. Despite being placed in a room that looked designed to break prisoners before they’re transferred to the gulag, the reading was quite well-attended, and we had a lively Q&A session after (including the aforementioned bloke who didn’t quite grok the concept of fantasy, and had never heard of Laurell Hamilton. Either he was a hardwired SF fan who got lost, or he was a civilian who got VERY lost. Either way, he stayed until the end, and seemed to enjoy what I read, so…).
1pm panel, as also mentioned earlier, went very well. SRO, and the security guard at the door tried to turn us away because the room was so full. “We’re the panel, we HAVE to go in!”
The results of dinner Friday have already been posted over in
kradical’s journal. The dwarves in port can almost be explained, if you’re willing to follow a rather strange route. “Pink all-day sucker’ has a really innocent explanation (uh-huh!). “ Warm naked tart” makes complete and total sense in context. As to the security guards – I plead the Fifth, okay?
Wound up at the Fantastic Queensland party, wherein I won myself an emu (eemUUUU) and finally was introduced to Tim-Tams, and met all sorts of lovely folk and garnered several invitations to visit Down Under. And then as seemed only logical, I and various others repaired to the bar. Things get hazy after that. Single malts were doubtless involved.
Saturday:
Wandered over in time to meet up with some list-friends for elevensies and gossip. Got my hands on a copy of Carol Berg’s Hebrew edition of TRANSFORMATION, which was the springboard to my later meeting the translator (who reportedly reads here, so *waving madly*) and the publisher. Niiiice looking book, even if the cover does give one a bit of pause at first.
Then onward to panels. “Buffy and Angel” had a panel of shy, retiring wallflowers (hah!) but managed to get into some good discussions anyway, and excellent SRO-audience participation. The fanfiction panel was smaller, a smidge noisier (heh) and we could have used more time on both.
As to the “it can’t be fantasy, I like it” panel -- Darren, we’re sorry. Really. *chortle* But you did a magnificent job, I would never have guessed that you were a panel-moderating virgin. To counteract rumors, the phrase “My respected and learned colleague… is a bloody moron” were not actually uttered. “I agree with you…but” however, was.
Off-site dinner again, as is becoming the trend.
aynjel and
agamisu and
vincam, among others, and much silliness occured. Had an invite to parties, but passed on them in favor of the less crowded, more civilized Hilton bar, which we closed down with several waves of people (just as we thought we were done, another group would stagger in and insist on buying a round). It should worry me that I can drink that much single malt, shouldn’t it? Although when you’re drinking a 17 year old Bowmore, getting drunk would almost be an insult to it. Preeeeety stuff. Finally got to see some folk I’d been almost-running-into all weekend, which was nice. If I’d gone all the way to the UK and not gotten my hug from GJ, I would have been most upset.
And to my new Canadian friend – I’m sorry I missed your room party! I’m a bad bad person, I know...
Sunday:
Wandered over to the Armadillo in time for my kaffleklatch. “Let me just check and see if anyone actually signed up.” One of the klatch-runners, overhearing this, laughed. “I guess that means I should sit down,” I said. A full table, indeed, and wonderful folk (if the woman who left me the origami rose is reading this, it’s lovely, and I thank you so much!). However, the coffee they gave me was obviously Turkish in origin, because when I stood up at the end, I swear I was vibrating. Had to take several power-laps around the dealer’s room to get the system back in order.
Did some business schmoozing, some personal schmoozing, both of which were profitable. A stint in the bar, then headed off for the Orbit party, which was quite a lot of fun, even if every time I turned around it seemed someone was taking a picture of me (the meerkat in the wild is rather camera-shy).
After, a quiet dinner with old friends in a local pub which was interrupted by a bevy of very very drunk and obnoxious females who needed lessons in basic couth. We moved into the main room to continue our conversation and had a lovely time catching up before returning to the Hilton bar, where
agamisu and I met up with
kradical and
terri_osborne and
aynjel for some fabulous bourbon, carried all the way from Arizona and
ferragus by yours truly.
Meant to get to bed relatively early, but as usual that plan was shot down by the arrival of many other people, and I finally fled the scene closer to dawn than was healthy. Notes to self: This year’s Hugo was a thing of delight to f/o/n/d/l/e/ hold, and EK is a noisy neck-kisser. *grin*
Monday was the usual last-day-of: woke, packed, escaped. Cabbie back from airport was a lively talker, with topics ranging from the joys of doing real estate deals long-distance (he’s trying to sell a villa in France, if anyone’s interested), to the weather in Patagonia. His wife’s a fantasy reader. Of course I gave him my card. :-)
And now, working, and waiting for various phone calls, and thinking about talking a walk around the neighborhood before dinner...
The overwhelming winner was a request for gory details. Okay. Have gone over what I remember, double-checked it with my lawyer, and came up with the following postable bits:
Thursday: Arrived. Checked in. Was mugged by one of
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Friday: Wake at 9. Think, blearily, “I have something at 10, don’t I?” Zoom to get ready, arrive at signing thinking “oh well, at least Walter and Rebecca and I can have a good shmooze.” Well, we did, but I also had lovely shmoozes with the people who kept lining up (‘a line? There’s a line?’ ‘Yes, Gilman, three or more people waiting makes a line!’) to get my signature. And this despite the fact that only Borderlands had any copies of the books (and Alan only had one of each). Ah, for Larry Smith when you need him…
Had to show people the necklace (“They Come Back in Spring”) at
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
11:30 reading. Despite being placed in a room that looked designed to break prisoners before they’re transferred to the gulag, the reading was quite well-attended, and we had a lively Q&A session after (including the aforementioned bloke who didn’t quite grok the concept of fantasy, and had never heard of Laurell Hamilton. Either he was a hardwired SF fan who got lost, or he was a civilian who got VERY lost. Either way, he stayed until the end, and seemed to enjoy what I read, so…).
1pm panel, as also mentioned earlier, went very well. SRO, and the security guard at the door tried to turn us away because the room was so full. “We’re the panel, we HAVE to go in!”
The results of dinner Friday have already been posted over in
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Wound up at the Fantastic Queensland party, wherein I won myself an emu (eemUUUU) and finally was introduced to Tim-Tams, and met all sorts of lovely folk and garnered several invitations to visit Down Under. And then as seemed only logical, I and various others repaired to the bar. Things get hazy after that. Single malts were doubtless involved.
Saturday:
Wandered over in time to meet up with some list-friends for elevensies and gossip. Got my hands on a copy of Carol Berg’s Hebrew edition of TRANSFORMATION, which was the springboard to my later meeting the translator (who reportedly reads here, so *waving madly*) and the publisher. Niiiice looking book, even if the cover does give one a bit of pause at first.
Then onward to panels. “Buffy and Angel” had a panel of shy, retiring wallflowers (hah!) but managed to get into some good discussions anyway, and excellent SRO-audience participation. The fanfiction panel was smaller, a smidge noisier (heh) and we could have used more time on both.
As to the “it can’t be fantasy, I like it” panel -- Darren, we’re sorry. Really. *chortle* But you did a magnificent job, I would never have guessed that you were a panel-moderating virgin. To counteract rumors, the phrase “My respected and learned colleague… is a bloody moron” were not actually uttered. “I agree with you…but” however, was.
Off-site dinner again, as is becoming the trend.
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And to my new Canadian friend – I’m sorry I missed your room party! I’m a bad bad person, I know...
Sunday:
Wandered over to the Armadillo in time for my kaffleklatch. “Let me just check and see if anyone actually signed up.” One of the klatch-runners, overhearing this, laughed. “I guess that means I should sit down,” I said. A full table, indeed, and wonderful folk (if the woman who left me the origami rose is reading this, it’s lovely, and I thank you so much!). However, the coffee they gave me was obviously Turkish in origin, because when I stood up at the end, I swear I was vibrating. Had to take several power-laps around the dealer’s room to get the system back in order.
Did some business schmoozing, some personal schmoozing, both of which were profitable. A stint in the bar, then headed off for the Orbit party, which was quite a lot of fun, even if every time I turned around it seemed someone was taking a picture of me (the meerkat in the wild is rather camera-shy).
After, a quiet dinner with old friends in a local pub which was interrupted by a bevy of very very drunk and obnoxious females who needed lessons in basic couth. We moved into the main room to continue our conversation and had a lovely time catching up before returning to the Hilton bar, where
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Meant to get to bed relatively early, but as usual that plan was shot down by the arrival of many other people, and I finally fled the scene closer to dawn than was healthy. Notes to self: This year’s Hugo was a thing of delight to f/o/n/d/l/e/ hold, and EK is a noisy neck-kisser. *grin*
Monday was the usual last-day-of: woke, packed, escaped. Cabbie back from airport was a lively talker, with topics ranging from the joys of doing real estate deals long-distance (he’s trying to sell a villa in France, if anyone’s interested), to the weather in Patagonia. His wife’s a fantasy reader. Of course I gave him my card. :-)
And now, working, and waiting for various phone calls, and thinking about talking a walk around the neighborhood before dinner...