Progress Report, in which a three-year-old imparts writerly wisdom to me

Got back from Dragon*Con yesterday, and promptly fell asleep on the couch.  Just something about being home, I guess.

I had hoped I could squeeze in some writing stuff before departing for Atlanta, but I spent those days madly scrambling to get ready.  For some reason, I felt much more disorganized than usual.  You would think I’d have figured out how to do this convention thing by now.  I’ve been to several WorldCons, after all.  One could almost call me a savvy WorldCon veteran.  But then again, this was my first Dragon*Con.

And for those of you who have never been, let me assure you that it’s an order of magnitude or two beyond WorldCon.  The sheer size of it boggled me.  Picking up badges on Thursday evening took over two hours–and that was when the line was relatively short; it only extended from the rat’s maze of the registration hall and down the street a little way.  At other points during the weekend, the line stretched around the block.

Gawd.

I must say this for the D*C crew:  they do a very good job with crowd control.  And everything is crowded at Dragon*Con.  Good luck finding a seat at the bar.  Want to attend the Buffy sing-along?  Better get in line about an hour beforehand (or come just before the show and hope by some impossible coincidence to snag the last three seats available–which is how we did it.)  Planning to attend the big Star Trek shindig?  Fuhgeddaboudit.

Weird, then, that there was no line at the Walk of Fame for Peter Mayhew.  I mean, seriously, gang–it’s Peter Mayhew.  And that was David Prowse, sitting right next to him.  (Mr. Mayhew is a very gracious, soft-spoken man, BTW.  And he’s huge.)

But I digress.

I really don’t do much in the way of programming.  I caught a panel on werewolves featuring my friend, the fabulous Carrie Vaughn.  And I can attest to the truth of her assertion that she did, indeed, fill the room for her reading.  There was the aforementioned Buffy sing-along, which was OK, but I’m glad I didn’t wait in line for hours.  The James Marsters Q & A was entertaining enough.  And I caught the last half of the masquerade, which I found a little underwhelming (the terrific Wallace & Gromit costumes notwithstanding).

Friday night, the wife,

, and I had dinner and drinks with two of my Odyssey ’98 classmates, the aforementioned Carrie and James Maxey.  Geoffrey Jacoby, another Odfellow, joined us later.  I also got to meet Edmund Schubert, editor of IGMS, who will be publishing “The Frankenstein Diaries” in issues 8 and 9.  Wonder of wonders, he seems to like my work and wants to see more from me.  (It’s in the queue, Ed, I promise.)  There, too, was the effervescent Alethea Kontis, who apparently knows everyone and secretly rules the world, and Carrie’s mom, Joanne, always a pleasure.  We had a great time just checking out the costumes.  The Spartans were a big hit with the ladies.

Skipped most of the con on Saturday to take in the Nebraska game at a bar in Norcross–the local meeting place for Georgians for Nebraska.  Did I mention we Nebraskans tend to take our football a tad seriously?

Was back at the con on Sunday, meeting up with Carrie and her mom again.  We got a drink at Trader Vic’s in the Marriott.  Let me just say for the record that pina coladas aren’t even on the menu.  Yeesh.  Disillusion city.

Monday involved spending time at the art show and in the various dealers’ rooms.  Kinda sad that there weren’t but a handful of booksellers there.  Then again, by that time, I had already dropped enough cash, filling out the rest of my Sandman collection (and getting a great deal, I might add). 

Our gracious hosts for the trip to Atlanta, Kristine and Bob, took great care of us.  Being self-proclaimed beer snobs, they also introduced me to several new beers, as is their wont.  Bob’s steam beer recipe was this year’s favorite.  Last time around, it was his IPA.  (Almost makes me sound like I know what I’m talking about, doesn’t it?)

Also got to spend some time with their two delightful children, Colin and Nathan.  I even tucked Colin, 3, into bed one night–and that was an experience in itself.  That little boy can talk.  Especially when he doesn’t really want to go to bed.  But it was wonderful to listen to him, all the same.  When it came time to read him a story, he specifically requested a scary one.  I tried to offer a children’s Halloween story that was on his bookshelf, but he turned up his nose at it.  “That’s not scary,” he said.  “A scary story takes a lot of work.”

Amen, little brother.  Amen.

My own scary story is a bit stalled at the moment, but conventions always serve to inspire me.  So I’ll take another crack at it.  I figure it will come when it’s ready.  And I still need to finish my read-through of Petra.  So that’s next on the agenda.  Now that my most hectic traveling days are behind me–only one trip left to go, end of next month–I hope to make some real progress, and finish out the year in style.

Write Club updates:

Tier two rejection from Weird Tales, for “The Judgment of Harris.”  Response time, almost two months.

Tier one rejection from Clockwork Phoenix, for “A Walk in the Woods, with Voices.”  Response time, about a month.

Onward.

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