In retrospect, I wish that I had mentioned that all these WorldCon posts were about LoneStarCon3. Someday, perhaps a year from now, I’ll do another series of posts about WorldCon, only it will be whatever the name of it is in London. Or the year after that, whatever it’s called in Spokane. It’s all WorldCon, but being more specific would be better, if I’m thinking of the future.
Let’s talk a little bit about my last day at WorldCon, while I’m sitting in the airport, waiting for my flight.
I woke up a little bit later than I had intended. Though it was 7AM back in Sacramento, at the convention, it was 9AM when I rolled groggily out of bed. I took my time getting myself together, and I headed down to the other hotel’s lobby to sit at a table and write yesterday’s post.
While sitting there, I saw lots of people that I had met with throughout the weekend. For most, we only exchanged a few words. One author, Marie Bilodeua, stopped and sat with me for a couple of hours. It was absolutely fantastic. We talked about writing, and our families. We dabbled in religion and philosophy. We had a fantastic conversation. The time flew, and my blog post was mostly forgotten for hours.
Eventually, Marie needed to go do her shopping before she went for her signing, and I needed lunch. I went to the food court once again, picked up enough burgers for myself, Michael, Greg, and Bill, then headed to the dealer’s room to share my lunch. Greg wasn’t hungry, but Ian, Bill’s son, was there, so I didn’t wind up with too much food.
After lunch, I went off for a panel. I’d met an author the previous day named Ransom who had just been picked up by 47North, and I thought I’d catch the “47North Presents” panel. Unfortunately, there were no panelists. That gave me some time to head back to another wifi spot and finish my blog post.
I was in a different hotel lobby, but again, I kept seeing people I’d made friends or acquaintance with. Nancy Kress’s daughter-in-law, Jaime(sp?) sat and talked with me for a little while. We talked about writing and the challenges we’ve overcome. She was then off to another Kaffeeklatsch, and I finally finished yesterday’s post.
With my blog post finished, I got up to try another panel and ran into Effe, Arley, and Rosey. They were headed to the same panel I was, or at the very least, the same area, so we walked together and chatted amiably. Rosey told us about one of her stories that had been picked up recently, after she’d taken a break from writing for 10 years. Rosey went on to another panel, and Effe, Arley and I went to “As You Know, Jim” which was a panel about exposition.
The panel was okay. There wasn’t a ton of good information from it, but I found it entertaining. I took copious notes, as usual.
With the panel finished, I went off to make sure that Marie had at least one person in her autograph line. She had a few people, and she seemed really happy. I was going to buy the first book in her series from her and have her sign it, but Candace had picked up the last copy.
I checked in with Michael and Greg again before heading back to my room to take a nap. We made a plan to go out to dinner together and get a steak dinner. My phone told me that there was a place that was close, had received high marks, and I was able to check out the menu. It seemed like we had a plan.
As we gathered together to make our journey for dinner, Meredith found us and tagged along. We followed the map, headed down Alamo street, found the place easily enough… and then discovered that it was closed for the holiday weekend. Fortunately, Michael had spotted an Irish pub along the way, so we went there and had a lovely dinner.
Then it was time to head to the Hugo awards. There’s not a lot I can say about them, really. There weren’t a ton of surprises. Paul Cornell was hilarious. Chris Garcia hugged all of the winners as they walked up to get their prize. We didn’t have to remain standing the entire time like we did in Chicago. It was a really great show, and I was glad to see it.
After the Hugos, I went with Michael to his room. He shared some Scotch with me that was very special to him, both in its quality and its sentimental value. It was a 26 year old whose name I don’t remember, but that he’d received at his graduation. There wasn’t much left of it, and while I’m not much of a judge, I think it was pretty good. Scotch has a lot going on.
It was nearly midnight, and it was once again party time. We wound up battling the elevator and the stairs to get to the party floor. One of the first places we went was the party for JordanCon. Michael quickly moved on to the Helsinki room, and shortly after he left, Howard Tayler, Brandon Sanderson, and Mary Robinette Kowal came in to the room, carrying their freshly acquired Hugos. I was standing not too far from the door, and I was the first one Mary offered her Hugo to. I held it in my hands, and I studied the base. It was a surreal moment, and my eyes weren’t really focusing correctly. It was heavy and beautiful, and I was a bit overwhelmed. I know I said some things, and I think my words were somewhat intelligible, but I don’t remember exactly what I said. As I handed it back, I remember saying, “If it was me, I’m not sure I’d be able to hand it off so easily.” Mary said, “You just did.”
After that, I was pretty much done. The introvert in me said that it was time to go to bed, and unlike the previous evenings, I no longer had the strength to argue. I wanted to say a few things to Brandon Sanderson, and I would have loved to visit with Howard a little bit more, as I had visited with him earlier in the week. I was done, though. I slipped out quietly, went and found Michael to let him know I was quitting early, and went off to my room to sleep.
Earlier in the evening, just before we went off to dinner, Michael had said to me, “Every time I see you, you’re talking to a different woman.” It is true, and looking back over this post, it might look like I was up to no good. Honestly, though, I wasn’t seeing gender. I was just enjoying conversations, and I spoke to as many men as I spoke to women. As I was going to sleep, though, I was thinking about Michael’s words, and I wondered about it. What finally settled me was this thought: A bad husband makes his wife jealous of other women, but a good husband makes other women jealous of his wife. By that metric, I’m not sure how good a husband I was, but I wasn’t a bad one. And that’s all I have to say about that.
When I get settled and have some time, I’m going to transpose all of my WorldCon panel notes… Reno, Chicago, and San Antonio… into their own area on my blog. Maybe other people will find them useful. I’m sure I’ll be reminded of some good advice just going through the exercise.