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Mar. 17th, 2009 12:15 amI'm going to bed. I'm going to sleep for many, many hours. When I wake up I shall no doubt panic, because I have meetings tomorrow and teaching tomorrow and a manuscript that needed doing things with today and nothing has been done and my sink is full of dishes and I just remembered I have a load of washing I meant to do on Saturday and I wonder how long and breathless this sentence can become before it reflects my state entirely. Everything will grow in size and urgency in the morning, but I shall sleep now anyway.
Flycon was awesome. The sad thing about any con is, that the silly and evil things stick in one's mind, and the glories fade away. Some of them just get diminished by the size of the Net, and I'll rediscover them and be astonished, but at this exact instant, this is what I remember:
I remember someone saying that they had read a PhD's worth of material and thinking "When I was in my twenties, I wrote a novel's worth of letters - this did not make me a writer of epistolary novels." This was a stupid thing for me to think. It's like me saying "I hate novels with footnotes." It wasn't a very nice thing for me to think, either, since all they were doing was pointing out that they did their research for their work, which is a trait I admire.
I remember the moment I read a comment on something I had said and saw the name EMoon. It wasn't as fear-inducing as suddenly finding I had to introduce Geoff Ryman. It made me realise that this weekend I was stepping into a strange new world, and strange new worlds have such people in them, so really, it was all right. I tried to find The Speed of Dark for Kaaron Warren and it has gone walkabout. If someone has borrowed my copy, I want it back. Then I want to breathe deeply and say "So many favourite authors in 3 days is a healthy thing. It is. It really is."
I remember being surprised there were people at my author chat. I also remember talking non-stop. I hope that they had the sense to sneak out and put on the kettle when I became tiresome. That's the advantage of an online convention - making a cup of tea when you need restoration because the author has started telling obscure family stories.
I remember finding my sense of humour late Sunday. Two people raced out of the chatroom. I think it was from horror, but it might have been shock.
I remember wanting to make a long, long list of writers I now need to read. I lost my pen then. I've found one now, but when I press the top it talks at me. I've committed the names to memory, and when I see them, those books are mine. In the meantime, I won Boomerang Books' monthly giveaway and have 2 rather gorgeous signed volumes to read instead. Still, I crave books to find out what these interesting folks are writing.
I remember Kim Falconer telling us about LOA. I kept thinking it was loa. She was very patient with me when we worked out we were talking about different cultures. Now I think the LOA fully explains why I get books in the mail the day after I can't find my pen to make a list of books to read.
I remember thinking what a very nice person Sharyn Lilley is, and how straightfoward it is to work with her even when things become fraught. Neither of us panicked at the same time, which worked very nicely.
I remember saying to myself over and over "Come back later, when you have time - all those panels need reading. Some of them twice." Lots of insights on lots of topics. What I loved was that every insight told me something about the writer giving them. Who would have guessed that Jenny Fallon and Dave Freer were carved from the same tree? Or that Sherwood would be surprised when someone admitted their squeeing fandom. Or that Robin Hobb makes jokes about Australian wine (we didn't get her drunk when she came here a few yars back. I think we didn't, anyhow. We certainly didn't when she joined the group I was in for dinner. Mind you, it was Melbourne, and Melburnians have a thing about wine.)?
I remember being so tired I couldn't type and then thinking "I'm on a panel in an hour." That was the moment I thought "Someone else can deal" and took a nap. I didn't really take a nap. I was too tired. I read Phantom comics. Phantom comics are very restful, I find. Except I have no more.
I remember just how wonderful the team in the chatroom were. They worked round the clock and made me feel very slack.
I remember the chat that suddenly started developing an interesting vocabulary.
I just remembered exactly what caused my sense of humour to return. This is not a good thing. My newly-rediscovered evil led to me trying to get everyone in the chat room to think of slogans to be used for defacing posters of their favourite authors. Everyone in the chat room was much more respectful than me. I am really, really not very respectful. Lots of people reassured me that my lact of respect is a loveable trait. Since they also reassured me about my typing (which was appalling after the first night of not-enough-sleep and went downhill from there) and even called it inspirational, I am not easily reassured by resassurances. It does mean there are some very nice people in the SFF world, though.
I just remember I said I needed sleep! Goodnight all. Please feel free to add your own remembrances in the comments. I'd love to know what your favourite experiences were.
Flycon was awesome. The sad thing about any con is, that the silly and evil things stick in one's mind, and the glories fade away. Some of them just get diminished by the size of the Net, and I'll rediscover them and be astonished, but at this exact instant, this is what I remember:
I remember someone saying that they had read a PhD's worth of material and thinking "When I was in my twenties, I wrote a novel's worth of letters - this did not make me a writer of epistolary novels." This was a stupid thing for me to think. It's like me saying "I hate novels with footnotes." It wasn't a very nice thing for me to think, either, since all they were doing was pointing out that they did their research for their work, which is a trait I admire.
I remember the moment I read a comment on something I had said and saw the name EMoon. It wasn't as fear-inducing as suddenly finding I had to introduce Geoff Ryman. It made me realise that this weekend I was stepping into a strange new world, and strange new worlds have such people in them, so really, it was all right. I tried to find The Speed of Dark for Kaaron Warren and it has gone walkabout. If someone has borrowed my copy, I want it back. Then I want to breathe deeply and say "So many favourite authors in 3 days is a healthy thing. It is. It really is."
I remember being surprised there were people at my author chat. I also remember talking non-stop. I hope that they had the sense to sneak out and put on the kettle when I became tiresome. That's the advantage of an online convention - making a cup of tea when you need restoration because the author has started telling obscure family stories.
I remember finding my sense of humour late Sunday. Two people raced out of the chatroom. I think it was from horror, but it might have been shock.
I remember wanting to make a long, long list of writers I now need to read. I lost my pen then. I've found one now, but when I press the top it talks at me. I've committed the names to memory, and when I see them, those books are mine. In the meantime, I won Boomerang Books' monthly giveaway and have 2 rather gorgeous signed volumes to read instead. Still, I crave books to find out what these interesting folks are writing.
I remember Kim Falconer telling us about LOA. I kept thinking it was loa. She was very patient with me when we worked out we were talking about different cultures. Now I think the LOA fully explains why I get books in the mail the day after I can't find my pen to make a list of books to read.
I remember thinking what a very nice person Sharyn Lilley is, and how straightfoward it is to work with her even when things become fraught. Neither of us panicked at the same time, which worked very nicely.
I remember saying to myself over and over "Come back later, when you have time - all those panels need reading. Some of them twice." Lots of insights on lots of topics. What I loved was that every insight told me something about the writer giving them. Who would have guessed that Jenny Fallon and Dave Freer were carved from the same tree? Or that Sherwood would be surprised when someone admitted their squeeing fandom. Or that Robin Hobb makes jokes about Australian wine (we didn't get her drunk when she came here a few yars back. I think we didn't, anyhow. We certainly didn't when she joined the group I was in for dinner. Mind you, it was Melbourne, and Melburnians have a thing about wine.)?
I remember being so tired I couldn't type and then thinking "I'm on a panel in an hour." That was the moment I thought "Someone else can deal" and took a nap. I didn't really take a nap. I was too tired. I read Phantom comics. Phantom comics are very restful, I find. Except I have no more.
I remember just how wonderful the team in the chatroom were. They worked round the clock and made me feel very slack.
I remember the chat that suddenly started developing an interesting vocabulary.
I just remembered exactly what caused my sense of humour to return. This is not a good thing. My newly-rediscovered evil led to me trying to get everyone in the chat room to think of slogans to be used for defacing posters of their favourite authors. Everyone in the chat room was much more respectful than me. I am really, really not very respectful. Lots of people reassured me that my lact of respect is a loveable trait. Since they also reassured me about my typing (which was appalling after the first night of not-enough-sleep and went downhill from there) and even called it inspirational, I am not easily reassured by resassurances. It does mean there are some very nice people in the SFF world, though.
I just remember I said I needed sleep! Goodnight all. Please feel free to add your own remembrances in the comments. I'd love to know what your favourite experiences were.