OSFest was simultaneously fun and exhausting. Long days + late nights + early morning commitments = one very tired Matt. I’m walking around today like a zombie on Sudafed.
Even so, it was great to see old friends, meet new ones, and immerse myself in all the geeky goodness that science fiction conventions entail.
Due to some scheduling changes, Friday proved to be a light day. (Once again, heartiest apologies to those of you who showed up on Friday expecting those panels. I was as surprised as you were.) I basically just hung out, attended opening ceremonies, then hit some parties. I did attend one panel–Kevin J. Anderson and Rebecca Moesta discussing some of the nuts and bolts of professionalism for writers. Some good stuff there. I had a pleasant chat with Kevin at a party afterward, in which we talked of Rush, Writers of the Future, and various other writing topics–all while sampling some beer homebrewed for the occasion, including a nice IPA. After that, it was karaoke at John & Denise Garner’s room party. And by then, it was two a.m., and I had to pull myself away and go home.
Saturday, I had four panels, including my reading, which seemed to go fairly well. It was held in the Con Suite–an unusual location for a reading, and a bit noisy, but it had the advantage of being in a high-traffic area. The wife was good enough to provide some hot dogs and a yummy pineapple upside-down cake, which were devoured in short order. The Star Trek panel, as promised, was not dull–though never contentious. Just lots of good, animated discussion. Then came the masquerade, followed by more parties. I spent most of the evening at RoomCon 5.2, hosted by James Hollaman and hostess-with-the-mostest Sherri Dean. James had asked if I would perhaps play a little guitar, and given that I had sold my soul to him by that time, I figured what the hell. That was fun, despite my frequent flubs. My renditions of some Jonathan Coulton songs seemed to be the highlight of the evening, inspiring local author and newly minted Odfellow Travis Heerman to zombify me. Dig the awesomeness:
(And in case you’re concerned, I managed to earn my soul back by the end of the evening. Plus I made a dollar of clear profit. So it’s all good.)
Again, it was another late night. I got maybe five and half hours’ sleep before hauling my carcass (pardon the pun) out of bed on Sunday for the writing workshop. I managed to be coherent–I think. By that time, I truly resembled Travis’s sketch. My zombification was complete. As I had a family commitment that afternoon, I said my goodbyes to everyone and took my leave.
So that was OSFest 2. My sincere thanks to all who worked so hard on the con, everyone who attended, and especially those who came to see little ol’ me blather and pontificate. I hope you had as much fun as I did.
What’s that you say? Writing? Oh, yeah, that. Well, I managed another 3.2K on Wet Work before the weekend. Again, the wishful thinking that I might actually get in some words during the con proved to be . . . wishful thinking. Anyway, here’s Magic Meter to make it official:
And another snippet:
"Don’t underestimate me. Others have made that mistake." Indeed, the last person to do so was walking with a limp this morning. And the one before him was at the bottom of the Missouri River.
"You’re the one making the mistake, Emily." Regret tinged her words.
"We’ll see about that." Emily pushed open the door and went out into the rain, not bothering with her umbrella.
So much for making nice.
One Write Club update: a tier one rejection from the Way of the Wizard anthology. response time, ten days.
I can haz brains now?
