it's a great life, if you don't weaken (matociquala) wrote,
it's a great life, if you don't weaken

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Home again home again like a turtle to his balcony. (Sort of a con report)

Phew. Another con survived. Comicon is always an exercise in endurance for me. Just little old Bear and 80,000 of her closest friends...

Generally very nice, though. I got to meet a whole bunch of lj people and had a very nice lunch with trinker and thatwordgrrl and kit_kindred and Steven, whose lj name I heard but which apparently got cleared when the buffer did, rather than saved to long term memory, alas. (We were sitting in between Will Eisner on one side and China Miéville and Alex Irvine on the other. Apparently I now exhude some sort of pheromones that attract writers to my general vicinity.)

And I collected a hug from nihilistic_kid and fended off his pleas to buy Move Under Ground (which I am assured is brilliant, of course, and not just by the author, but I'm not allowed to buy any books until my to-read pile is shorter than I am.) and met, through him, Eli, whose complete identity remains a mystery to me, but who was very gracious about my stealing Nick for fifteen minutes. (Also Colleen from Del Rey, who I swear I've met before, but neither one of us can figure out where...)

I also finished Sunshine, which was really quite wonderful, although I thought the exposition was just a tad heavy-handed and came a bit late in places, making some of the developments feel a little arbitrary. That's a very minor quibble in a book that's textured and thoughtful and startling, however, and has all the McKinley virtues of character and detail and one-step-to-the-leftness.

Also, I had the distinct pleasure of a quite accidental luncheon with Harry, Todd, and Mercy Harrison, and their native guide to the Convention Center Dina (I hope I spelled that right), and Service Dog (Vixen, I think?) (Why yes, I am bad with names. You noticed!). I spent much of the time when I wasn't at panels staking out a table in the Bayside Cafe working on Worldwired (the dealer's floor is Too Much For Me). I was in line getting a diet Coke (ew) and as they were in need of a place to sit and eat and there were spare seats at the table, kit_kindred offered them up. So I didn't get much work done that afternoon, but did have a very enjoyable conversation instead.

I still managed to get the paper edit of Worldwired finished, leaving me the icky work of typing in the changes and then adding the ten or so scenes I need to add to make the draft make sense. It is, as usual, better than I thought it was when I was writing it. By next year, it may even be good.

Also, Anne-my-editor-Anne emailed to let me know that (a) a preview of Scardown will be running at the back of Hammered, and also, I should have galleys tomorrow, and about ten days to get them read, red (penned, that is), and Fedexed back. And Scardown has gone to copy edit. Not sure when I'll see the CEM, but I presume it may be before I deliver Worldwired.

Juggling three books at once is really a bit tricky. But not all that hard, once you get the hang of it.

I already commented on the Lord of the Fans panel, sort of (that was the loud *squee* you heard last entry). The Farscape: The Peacekeeper Wars panel was amusing for a number of reasons, but mostly because I found myself utterly charmed by Ben Browder stealing pieces of Claudia Black's chocolate bar. One, because I'm cheerfully supportive of actresses who eat--like, in public and everything--and two, because the whole teasing sibling-rivalry dynamic between the two of them won me over completely.

The panel was fascinating for other reasons--the details of the collaborative creative process they used (mostly from Henson and Kemper, as O'Bannon was notably quiet and seemed a little shy)... and I will carry to my grave the image of Anthony Simcoe wearing nothing but the D'Argo makeup and polka-dot boxers.

Also, we went to Balboa Park and the Museum of Natural History, and there we saw the travelling exhibit on feathered dinosaurs, including the very very big nightmare critter, 13-foot tall Therizinosaurus, the model (I almost typed "mount"--eee!) of which is carefully oriented so if you stand where you have to stand to read the placard and then look up, you jump out of your skin--because you're standing right at the thing's point of focus and it is going to eat you, bite-sized mammal, run!!!!!!!!!!!

and then we drove home, and it was hot. And I was pounced on by many dogs, and slept in my own bed, under a carpet of cats who were too happy to see us to remember that they were mad we left.

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