I came into this convention a bit rattled, and with lower expectations than usual. I wasn’t on a lot of programming, and I heard they misspelled my name in a few key places. Plus, with everything else going on in the world, my heart felt heavy before we even arrived.

With just a little bit of the con left tomorrow, I feel like I can sum up some of what I’ve felt the last few days.

I’ve spent a lot of time with people living in the same world as me, with their own problems and struggles, some of which are much greater than my own. We are all feeling the weight of the world right now, but we’re still coming together to celebrate each other and our shared love of fantasy and SciFi. Art, culture, stories, and a shared love for the strange. That’s what Baycon is about, more than anything else. That’s something to be celebrated.

While at the convention, I had the opportunity to interview many people for the Small Publishing in a Big Universe podcast. I’ve done many of these Live From X events before, but there was something special about the interviews this year. With Charlotte, I felt like she had an opportunity to really open up about something that was important to her, and I’m not sure she’s had a chance to talk with anyone about her craft in the way we talked. With Kim, we got into a spirited debate, and while we were very much on opposite sides of a hot topic, we were able to be respectful in our disagreement.

People I’ve enjoyed for years have sought me out. People I don’t know, but that have read my work, also sought me out and asked when the next book will be out. Coming to Baycon has been a continuous reuniting with friends, and constant stream of moments to meet new people that are becoming my friends.

For me, Baycon has been sharing meals, stories, laughter, and space with people I see infrequently. Last night, we hosted a party on the 14th floor, celebrating 10 years of Paper Angel/Water Dragon Publishing. I expected only a handful of people to show up, but we filled the room. Everyone seemed to be having a good time.

It hasn’t been purely escapism. Though I didn’t seek out conversations about current events and politics, I found myself in several. As much as we may have shielded ourselves from the outside world, we couldn’t get away from our feelings about what is going on, and how things could have been better if we’d collectively made the better choice last November. A couple people voiced conspiracy theories about the election, but I did not entertain them. I know in my heart that it wasn’t a matter of cheating or discarding votes — the same claims Trump still makes about the 2020 election — but a matter of evil winning. But good will triumph again, and spending a weekend with good people reminded me of that.

I listened to someone today talk about losing his wife. They’d been married almost 40 years. She was his best friend, truly his other half, and the pain was still fresh and present with him. He needed to talk and, more importantly, he needed someone to listen. So I did. All of us are going through something, and the least we can do for each other is just stop for a moment and listen. A little while after the man and I finished our conversation, I stood next to Melissa and held her hand for a while.

This weekend, I felt blessed. I’m truly fortunate in so many ways. This weekend reminded me of what we have to live for, and that to keep what we love the most, we have to truly live.

It’s still early on a Friday. I’m sitting outside at the Santa Clara Marriott. Baycon is about to begin. As of today, The Repossessed Ghost, my first novel, has been out for 2 years.

The beginning of last year, we published One For the Road, which I wrote for Melissa in 2017. At Baycon 2024, one year ago, we published The Psychic on the Jury, a Mel Walker novelette finished early last year.

I have Scrivener open right now, near the end of another chapter of The Psychic Out of Time, and I’m having a hard time focusing on the story.

There’s too much going on in the world right now, and submerging into the story feels like escapism. It feels like privilege.

As I’m sitting outside in comfort, the first group of detainees are experiencing a new reality in America’s newest concentration camp in Florida. Last night, the Republicans in The House passed the big, terrible bill which increases ICE’s budget while at the same time decimating Medicaid.

It’s all happening in real time, and it’s happening fast. America is falling. Trump brags (lies) about the economy doing great, while the facts show that the GDP shrank half a percentage last quarter. The dollar is weak. Our global alliances are in shambles.

And people are smiling. They’re going to let off fireworks tonight, as if millions of Americans hadn’t just been given a death sentence last night.

People are going to work, keeping their heads down, doing their jobs, because most people in this country can’t afford to take a break . Their rent is too damn high, their school debt is crippling, and they are one bad accident from medical bills destroying what little they may have saved.

I’ve been extremely fortunate. I’m lucky enough that I can afford to stop, look around, and see where things are going. It makes it that much harder to bury my head in my book — my fiction — and ignore the suffering of others and the destruction of American ideals.

It’s time for me to head to the dealer’s room. I will put a smile on my face, talk to people about books and nerdy shit, and try to help them have a good time. I’m not sure how much writing I’m going to get done this weekend, though.

Wherever you are, whatever you’re up to, I hope you get the July 4th you need and deserve.