Now that I'm off deadline, and have the mental RAM for this conversation? I've been hoping to get a bead on where other people are on this topic.

What is your feeling about people who have been banned from a convention for harassment still attending other area conventions?

Discuss?
leahbobet: (gardening)
May 20, 2013 Progress Notes:

On Roadstead Farm

Words today: 1400.
Words total: 65,450.
Reason for stopping: I might still be running on west coast time, but it's really late.

Darling du Jour: "I saw him once," Lieutenant Jackson said, softer. "From a distance, in our camp once the Wicked God was slaughtered. He walked so tall, even with everything we'd been through; walked like a man who could find his way through anything. Made a man want to follow him; see how it's done. Perhaps you could turn out like that yourself, it made you think."
Mean Things: Secrets and secrets and lies and lies.

Research Roundup: Herons in flight.
Books in progress: [livejournal.com profile] matociquala, Range of Ghosts.


We are back from Nebula Weekend, not much the worse for wear despite two full days that were just airports, and airplanes, and plus one day in the park this afternoon to fill the well back up.  I may write that up properly tomorrow; I might not.  I will try, if fiction's going well enough.

I do not write very well on planes.  I managed maybe 500 words, all told, all weekend (although they were super-productive ones that put a serious plot point together, and that's my new lodestar for the time being).  This is the beginning of making up for that: the wholesale killing of Chapter 11 tonight, and a good start into Chapter 12.

Tomorrow's goal: Take down Chapter 12 too, and crunch right on ahead.  It's time this thing got done already.

Spring’s finally sticking around here, and I am daring to leave my writer cave.  Which means: A bucket of upcoming public appearances!  Behold the list of them!

  • If you’re interested in hearing about the writing process, Toronto’s underground spaces, and the secrets of cities, I’m doing a Keep Toronto Reading event on just those things on Thursday, April 25, 2013 at 7pm, at the Kennedy/Eglinton branch of the Toronto Public Library.  There will be books for sale at this one, if only a handful!
  • The Apocalypse Tour is riding again, with a few Southern Ontario dates!  On Thursday, May 2, 2013, we’ll be at Essa Public Library’s Angus Branch in Angus, Ontario at 4pm — and by we, we mean Megan Crewe, Adrienne Kress, Maureen McGowan, and Cheryl Rainfield.
  • On May 4 at 2pm, Megan, Maureen, Cheryl, and I will descend upon Chapters South London to answer questions, sign books, and terrorize the populace.  There’s a Facebook event page here if you’re minded to RSVP, and it’ll be Maureen’s birthday, so a good round of the happy birthday song is welcomed and encouraged!
  • On May 5 at 2pm, Megan, Maureen, Cheryl, and Courtney Summers will finish this mini-leg of the Apocalypse Tour without me at Chapters Oshawa, because I am flaking to lead a Jane’s Walk that afternoon.

 

  • Finally, I will be at the Nebula Awards Weekend in San Jose, CA, from May 16-19, 2013.  I plan to have a kicky awards dress and a minimum of jet lag.

And that’s the news!

Originally published at leahbobet. You can comment here or there.

I am going to the 2013 Nebula Weekend in San Jose to watch that award be announced in person. With Mr. P. Because he said there's no way I'm winning (or losing) a Nebula without him there.

I will now put my head between my knees and breathe slowly while contemplating how much I just put on my credit card.
leahbobet: (gardening)
September 21, 2012 Progress Notes:

On Roadstead Farm

Words today: 550.
Words total: 41,500 (wrong; I'll fix this soon, actually).
Reason for stopping: I always sleep badly pre-travel, and I'm exhausted.

Motivational Threat of the Day: None. Threats and travel are a bad combination.

Darling du Jour: Heron's face was as closed and untroubled as the night before an execution.
Mean Things: Grim business which also simultaneously pees in the eye of fantasy tropes. Solving our problems with violence.

Research Roundup: N/A.
Books in progress: Raymond Chandler, Trouble is My Business


Not bad, considering today I am at Can-Con in Ottawa, doing auctorial things. For once, I flew (Porter seat sale!) and when I'm flying, it takes less time to get to Ottawa, another city, than it does to walk to my boyfriend's apartment. I find this deeply unsettling in that future shock sort of way.

Otherwise, I have hung out with Violette Malan and her SO, and Hayden Trenholm and his, and been to a lecture on newer developments in our idea of what galaxies are like. Introversion's winning over the rest of the program tonight. I think I'm going to run a hot bath and see if there's anything super bad on TV.

More thrilling con updates tomorrow!
July 10, 2012 Progress Notes:

"Fear of Falling"

Words today: 100.
Words total: 100.
Reason for stopping: Draft.

Books in progress: Gemma Files, A Tree of Bones


A short poem, and lightning-fast, unlike all the stuff I've been slowly chewing at for the last two weeks (and yes, I have been chewing at things; just not in quantities sufficient or with satisfaction sufficient to post metrics about it). It's not speculative, so that lets out the usual markets. I'll have to figure out what to do with it when I'm back from Readercon.

Which is a nice segue into: I am going to Readercon! Here is my con schedule! And after that, on the 18th, I am reading at KGB! One week of authoring in the Americas!

Anyone heading out to either? Do I see you there?
leahbobet: (gardening)
April 16, 2012 Progress Notes:

On Roadstead Farm

Words today: 500.
Words total: 21,250.
Reason for stopping: It's fragmenting on me. C'est fini.

Darling du Jour: But not I promise you; I swear. Said in his odd northern hum, as if shoveling manure was grounds for a sacred oath.

Words Hallie Won't Admit to Knowing: N/A, again!
Mean Things: More helplessness. But the practicality's kicking in, at least.

Research Roundup: How Canadian accents sound to northern US types.
Books in progress: Patrick Ness, The Knife of Never Letting Go


No work got done this weekend, only Ad Astra, and then a Sunday migraine which meant no work, conventionlike or otherwise, got done. This is not surprising. Conventions are work too.

And that one, despite some rather egregious and kind of worrying organizational issues, seemed to go well in the details: It says something that the people who come out to these things can and will work around, rather smoothly, whatever drama and ridiculousness goes on and pull out a good time. The measure of a community really is on the individual, personal level sometimes, and this one? Can be pretty damn cool.

--

As for today, the currently applicable early-chapter-revising lesson is burn plot. Burn it. Burn right through. All dithering is being ruthlessly sliced and replaced with doing stuff. The doing-stuff regime will deliver on its election promises of fiction that doesn't suck balls and counts on your support.

Yeah, it's a little annoying that one's writing issues crop up, the same, again and again and again. But it's also kind of nice, because then you know how to deal with them.
leahbobet: (gardening)
April 12, 2012 Progress Notes:

On Roadstead Farm

Words today: 800.
Words total: 20,750.
Reason for stopping: The hour grows late. Wolves! Ghosts!

Darling du Jour: "Good morning, Miss," he said. A docile rumble. Thunder that'd promised just this once to behave.

Words Hallie Won't Admit to Knowing: N/A. She's getting better about this, actually.
Mean Things: Quite explicitly losing your privacy. Also, I finally found out what's at the root of Hallie's terrible prickly perfectionism, and it makes perfect sense. And I plan to use it against her. But also then it made me cry a bit, so I guess we're even.

Research Roundup: N/A.
Books in progress: Caitlin R. Kiernan, The Drowning Girl; Gina Damico, Croak


One of those days where it goes crack! like an egg and what you need to do flows right out your fingers. Today -- both this afternoon at the coffeeshop and tonight, past one in the morning, stretched out on the couch under a flowered fleece blanket, drinking tea and typing carefully while my nailpolish dries -- has been about looking at the chapters I had, and systematically cutting them open to add in explicit explanations, demonstrations, for everything. Bringing the subtext up into the text. Explaining why a thing makes Hallie feel how she feels. Putting all this stuff on the page, to make it real and not just oblique. It's reading miles better. I'm getting a suspicion my natural length really is short fiction, and that's why my early drafts of novels have that same dense, compressed, zip-file prose.

I can't take entire credit: I had good notes on this to identify the problem. But I can also see quite clearly how the editorial process for Above taught me the things I needed to figure this thing out, and that's a cool little feeling. Don't do drugs! Stay in writer school! and all that.

Ad Astra tomorrow. No idea if I'll get wordcount in the afternoon, beforehand. Or on the bus, perhaps, on the way up to the hotel. I've found some of the heartwood of this book, and I'm in a way where I want to try.
leahbobet: (gardening)
April 10, 2012 Progress Notes:

On Roadstead Farm

Words today: 250.
Words total: 19,950.
Reason for stopping: Midnight!

Darling du Jour: N/A. I'm mostly revising again.

Words Hallie Won't Admit to Knowing: N/A.
Mean Things: Realizing you may, in fact, be in this one all alone.

Research Roundup: Preparing fields for winter.
Books in progress: Caitlin R. Kiernan, The Drowning Girl.


Filling out some already-written bits, today, and not a lot to say about it. It's putting in air, beats, breaths. It's pacing stuff. But, y'know, it's work. And this weekend is Ad Astra, so I don't expect to be getting much of that done while I'm at the con.

Otherwise, today was maximally quiet. There was sushi, and catchup with a friend, and some chores, and really that was it. No reporting to report.

Zzz.

Nov. 17th, 2011 10:29 pm
November 16, 2011 Progress Notes:

"Five Autopsies"

Words today: 800.
Words total: 7,150.
Reason for stopping: I need an early night sometime this week if I'm to make it through the weekend.

Books in progress: Suzette Mayr, Monoceros.


The early night's needed because tomorrow's the first day of SFContario, and much of my weekend will be spent as a conventioneer.

Like so:

Saturday, 11am, Ballroom A
Writing Short Stories -- Leah Bobet (M), Suzanne Church, Douglas Smith, Michael Swanwick
Writing a good short story, worthy of publication in an anthology or magazine, is an art of its own. Get tips on the best way to use an economy of words to tell a gripping short story.

Saturday, 5pm, Solarium
Writing in the Digital Age - Stephanie Bedwell-Grime (M), Leah Bobet, Kent Pollard, Brett Savory, John Scalzi
How does one survive as a writer in the age of the internet? How does an internet persona fit together with the introverted lifestyle of an author? What's the best way to deal with the trolls and haters?

Sunday, 11am, Gardenview
Punking It: Lowlife, Dystopia and the Punk Suffix - Leah Bobet, Cliff Goodman (M), Simon McNeil, Amanda Stock
Cyberpunk, Steampunk, Clockpunk, Dieselpunk, Biopunk, Martial Punk; speculative fiction has seen a heavy influx of sub-genres bearing the "punk" suffix. But are these punk? Is there any real connection between these different sub-genres? What makes a sci-fi or fantasy story ...Punk?

Sunday, 12pm, Ballroom A
It's my baby and you can't touch it - Leah Bobet, David Clink (M), Elizabeth Hirst, Violette Malan
At some point most writers will come across criticism they don't like. Our panel of writers will discuss tricks for getting over it quickly. What things should you never say to a critiquer and what should you never say in a critique? Learn to spot the symptoms and learn when it's not you, it's them and how to ignore the bad advice while accepting the good.

Sunday, 2pm, Solarium
The Business of Writing - Marie Bilodeau (M), Leah Bobet, Robert J Sawyer, John Scalzi, Douglas Smith
For creative people, the business end of things is often the most difficult. Issues like getting published, finding an agent or editor, hunting out sources of funding, and dealing with copyright issues can be daunting. Come and learn how our panelists tackle these issues.

If you'll be there -- come say hi! Hang out!
leahbobet: (gardening)
Belated trip report is belated. Well, that's what happens when there's a convention on.

A bit of an odd and different WFC for me this weekend, and in some ways a bit of the same WFC it always is. Coming off a week of vacation might not be the best mental mode in which to do a con: I was impressively disinclined to do anything like programming. I did see one reading (Nalo Hopkinson's, on Friday afternoon, which was bunches of fun) and did two of my own (a quickie from Chilling Tales at the EDGE party, and then a chapter of Above late Saturday night), and attended Delia Sherman's book launch. Otherwise, that was the whole of my relationship with programming all weekend long.

What I did do? Mostly talk to people.

It's a different crowd at west coast conventions: a lot of people were there who I hadn't seen in a while (sometimes a space of years), and it was really nice to catch up with them over lunches, or dinner, or just hanging out somewhere in the massive hotel complex. And the hotel complex was massive, and actually terrifically creepy in this decaying-splendour-of-the-late-1950s sort of way: all the buildings looked vaguely alike, and the plants were maybe excessively lush (how were they watering all those roses with the water issues in California?), and there were a lot of very dark little alleyways between things which I felt disturbingly unsafe in, even though I'd been nipping about the Downtown Eastside not one week before. There was a story going around that someone had been there for a con in the late 1960s, and the place hadn't changed a bit. I'd believe it.

There were a lot of new-to-me people there too, or people I'd just known on the internet and not in real life, and it's always awesome to put a face to a name.

And then there were a lot of people I didn't see, or only saw in passing throughout the weekend. Again, size of space and quantity of attendees had to do with this: you could quite easily travel in one circle throughout the weekend and just not see certain other people for the whole time. There were a few people I only found out were there at midnight on Saturday night.

I think I am generally not going to do shoutouts: there were too many people involved, and my brain is too tired, and things have fuzzed to an alarming degree. Let's just leave it at: If I saw you, yay! If I didn't, boo!

Coincidentally -- or maybe not, because, as [livejournal.com profile] sora_blue pointed out, there was just the one reasonable direct flight home on Sunday -- she, and I, and [livejournal.com profile] msagara and her husband were all on the same flight home. So we cabbed to the airport together and hung out, and Chandra and I changed our seats so we could sit together (kinda pointless in the end; I dozed off inside half an hour of takeoff and slept the whole way home). And then I ran into my second cousin on the way out of the airport, cabbed home (tired), got some takeout hot and sour soup (the official meal of coming home from a trip and wanting hot food even though I cleared out the fridge before leaving and have no perishable food), and fell down into bed.

And...trip over.




Coming home after being away so long, and in so many places, feels very weird. My apartment felt cluttered, and my street too dark, and my computer screen weirdly laid out, and nothing reasserted as properly familiar until I crawled into bed, turned off the lamp, and the way the light from the streetlight outside falls through the window onto my walls and the view past the books on my bedside table just finally clicked. The clothing selection this morning felt absolutely decadent and excessive. I think I have gotten used to a certain spareness in my environment after ten days of hostel rooms and hotel rooms and the living rooms of friends, and living out of a suitcase small enough to carry on airplanes. I may have to reorganize my bedroom this week. I am feeling an excess of stuff.

Luckily, I could sleep in a bit this morning -- had two precious hours left of lieu time at work, and I planned ahead for jet leg/sleep-in purposes and used them on a late start this morning -- but I'm still a little tired and bemused, and I've had Walk on the Ocean stuck in my head since about half an hour after I got home. I am out of the loop on just about everything right now and don't half care.

I miss the ocean, I think. And redwoods. And Musical 1998. And [livejournal.com profile] subject_zero constantly making fun of me, and slow-paced things, and backpackers, and writers, and the wide, wide sky.

It is always much too quiet when you get home.




Laundry tonight, and groceries, and some e-mail I couldn't answer, as tired as I was, last night; shouldering myself gently back into my life to see if it still fits. And maybe doing some things differently; not more, just differently. The great theme of this year for me has been this long conversation about my time, and how I use it, and which are shining worthwhile things and which obligations should not actually obligate just because they're there, and the last week has most definitely been part of that.

And thus endeth the Great West Coast Jaunt of 2011.
leahbobet: (gardening)
Today has been kind of impressively long.

Jon and Nish went to bed around midnight last night, and then Danny and I stayed up until probably 4am, just flopped out on our respective air mattresses/couches talking about pretty much everything. Which meant we woke up pretty comparatively late this morning, and just had time to take our showers, pack, tidy up, and head out before I had to get to the airport.

There is a big, big difference between travelling alone (what I'm used to) and travelling with a friend. I miss my travel buddy. A lot.

The flight from Seattle to San Diego took most of the afternoon, and was fairly uneventful: I slept as best I could through it, seeing as I was sitting next to two brothers who were a little too fond of punching each other (and yes, at one point I really was that Mean Lady who sat up and said in a cold and authoritative voice that that was quite enough). I managed to book a shuttle reservation this morning, and so just hopped aboard that from the airport and was at the hotel by 7pm local.

The hotel here is huge. I'm not kidding: it's labyrinthine, composed of about a dozen buildings (at least), and has multiple pools, gazebos, restaurants, etc. etc. Either we need to start a cult this weekend, or someone's going to be found dead in one of the swimming pools and we'll spend the rest of our con figuring out who the killer is. It's that kind of place, and the dark is not really helping with the navigational issues. All Hotel California jokes have been made.

Hugeness aside, ran into people I know fairly quickly: saw Caitlyn Paxson on my way out of the lobby/check-in (its own building); ran into Mary Robinette Kowal and Pat Rothfuss down the road, and then we found [livejournal.com profile] matociquala and [livejournal.com profile] scott_lynch in front of one of the restaurants and chatted a little bit. They all went off to various dinner things, I finally found my room (harder than you might think. Seriously.) and texted [livejournal.com profile] sakuralovestea to find out where she and Liz were at. We agreed to meet at Reg, where I failed to get a badge (they were closed) but did see Cat Rambo and finally met [livejournal.com profile] desperance and his SO in person.

We headed to the mall across the street for dinner, across a Scary Bridge, and ran into Cory Skerry, Sean Markey, and Beth Wodzinski (the latter two of Shimmer Magazine). They either folded into our dinner party or we folded into theirs, but either way, we Voltroned ourselves and went to the Cheesecake Factory for dinner, outside of which we saw Kat Feete and Dan Zlotnikov and their very wiggly new baby.

(A theme is emerging here, as you may notice: as big as this hotel is, you can't really spit but for hitting writers and editors and generally people you know.)

Did the bar a bit after dinner (I saw a [livejournal.com profile] mekkavandexter! And Janni Simner and Larry Hammer and Sarah Beth Durst!) and got sidetracked chatting with Mek for a while, and then headed up to Bear and Scott's room for the annual Highlander's Bad Touch drinking and reading bad erotica/romance novels out loud until we cry party. Didn't get very far, alas -- I don't know how thin the walls are, but security shut us down at not even 11:30. Sigh.

[livejournal.com profile] coffeeem and Will were there, among others, and Emma did give me a present of tea, which is lovely of them both.

After that I started picking my way back to the room, got waylaid by the Australians' party and drawn into a conversation with an Israeli translator about translation in general, the international SF scene, and Occupy movements, and now am finally, finally in my hotel room and on my bed. It's kind of nice after all this time sharing space this week to have my own room/space again, but it's also kind of lonely. Like I said: I miss my travel buddy. I miss my hostel common room full of cheerful backpackers.

Swinging right into con mode tomorrow, and reluctantly out of Pacific Northwest Hobo Traveller mode. We're calling breakfast for about 9am, and there will be a long day ahead. I plan to devote at least some of it to sitting in a hot tub in my bikini. Which I brought.

Goodnight, internets everywhere.
Today has been Seattle Day.

Woke up fairly late this morning to a text from [livejournal.com profile] _eljefe_, who was both in town and free for the early afternoon. So [livejournal.com profile] subject_zero and I, our gracious hosts having gone to work like normal people, navigated our way through downtown Seattle to meet up with him with possibly a maximum of fuss. For all I've been plugging getting lost and adventure and stuff, I really do feel better when I have the internet in my pocket and GoogleMaps to guide me. But we managed.

Met up, and went to Pike Place Market, to nose around and get some lunch. Had Chinese, with an excellent view of the harbour, and then grabbed a coffee and [livejournal.com profile] _eljefe_ dropped us off with reasonable directions to the Experience Music Project/Science Fiction Museum, where we had some comp tickets for around 2pm.

The Experience Music Project's pretty small as museums go, but it's pretty super: There was a sculpture made out of guitars, a Seattle band map, a whole exhibit about post-punk and Nirvana, a Jimi Hendrix exhibit that made me realize he was actually the 1960s equivalent of Atticus Ross, a lot of oral history recordings, and a whole section where you could monkey around on instruments and actually record. We laid down Fake Plastic Trees (Danny on guitar, me on vocals), Nothingman (Danny on both) and Casual Walks (me acapella), but didn't buy the CD because in retrospect we were a touch terrible.

The science fiction wing of the museum was pretty media-oriented -- a BSG exhibit which was meh, an Avatar exhibit we didn't care about, and a horror movie one -- so we mostly skipped it.

Afterwards, grabbed a coffee on Pike and met up with Jon and Nish, and then went for Thai for dinner and meandered back to home base. We've spent the evening monkeying around with their guitar and having World's Longest Singalong (and it's better than what we recorded), and now our fingers hurt and we're just sort of vegging around with laptops and knitting and manga and the like.

A bit more Seattle to be had tomorrow morning; the flight to San Diego is midafternoon, and then it's WFC starting in the evening. Our days of hoboing around the Pacific Northwest are ending all too soon.

Possibly more coffee reports tomorrow. Stay tuned.
leahbobet: (bat signal)
So. I'm going to be at the World Fantasy Convention in San Diego, California this year, and through luckily, I now have a schedule for it:

Saturday, 6pm
EDGE Books launch
In which I will be reading a smidgen from "Stay".

Saturday, 10:30pm, Pacific 4/5
Reading -- Leah Bobet
This is very late. Were it someone else's reading, I must admit you'd find me in the bar instead. But if you are so inclined, I will probably read something from Above, or maybe "Parable of the Shower" if people want that and such.


There's a bit of a pre-show to WFC this year: since it's far, and since I had a week of vacation left, I'm heading out tomorrow afternoon, across our great nation, to Vancouver for a couple of days. Then it's two days in Seattle, before the inevitable con next weekend. Trip-blogging may ensue; it all depends on what the wifi's like and how tired we are from walking by the end of the day.

Hope to see you all at WFC!
leahbobet: (bat signal)
The day after hitting a deadline is always the same. I'm dead certain there is something I'm supposed to be doing. Something terribly urgent, at that.

I do, though, have a preliminary schedule for SFContario, which goes down in downtown Toronto in just about a month:

Saturday, 11am, Ballroom A
Writing Short Stories -- Leah Bobet (M), Suzanne Church, Douglas Smith, Michael Swanwick
Writing a good short story, worthy of publication in an anthology or magazine, is an art of its own. Get tips on the best way to use an economy of words to tell a gripping short story.

Saturday, 5pm, Solarium
Writing in the Digital Age - Stephanie Bedwell-Grime (M), Leah Bobet, Kent Pollard, Brett Savory, John Scalzi
How does one survive as a writer in the age of the internet? How does an internet persona fit together with the introverted lifestyle of an author? What's the best way to deal with the trolls and haters?

Sunday, 11am, Gardenview
Punking It: Lowlife, Dystopia and the Punk Suffix - Leah Bobet, Cliff Goodman (M), Simon McNeil, Amanda Stock
Cyberpunk, Steampunk, Clockpunk, Dieselpunk, Biopunk, Martial Punk; speculative fiction has seen a heavy influx of sub-genres bearing the "punk" suffix. But are these punk? Is there any real connection between these different sub-genres? What makes a sci-fi or fantasy story ...Punk?

Sunday, 12pm, Ballroom A
It's my baby and you can't touch it - Leah Bobet, David Clink (M), Elizabeth Hirst, Violette Malan
At some point most writers will come across criticism they don't like. Our panel of writers will discuss tricks for getting over it quickly. What things should you never say to a critiquer and what should you never say in a critique? Learn to spot the symptoms and learn when it's not you, it's them and how to ignore the bad advice while accepting the good.

Sunday, 2pm, Solarium
The Business of Writing - Marie Bilodeau (M), Leah Bobet, Robert J Sawyer, John Scalzi, Douglas Smith
For creative people, the business end of things is often the most difficult. Issues like getting published, finding an agent or editor, hunting out sources of funding, and dealing with copyright issues can be daunting. Come and learn how our panelists tackle these issues.

The convention hotel doesn't have a central bar to speak of, so I'm not sure exactly where I'll be found when I'm not there, but I'm sure I'll be found nonetheless.

Do I see you there?
September 12, 2011 Progress Notes:

As-yet-untitled Shadow Unit DVD extra

Words today: 850, spread over a few days.
Words total: 850.
Reason for stopping: Draft.

Books in progress: Charles Yu, How to Live Safely in a Science-Fictional Universe.
The glamour: Tonight there were four social/volunteer engagements I probably could have gone to (and maybe should have), but convention weekends, as fun as they are, do kind of take it out of me. So I blew off everything and stayed in to work on Ideomancer stuff and arts grant applications all evening. And to finish writing this.

Arts grants applications have many moving parts. Tonight's work marathon was, in hindsight, a really, really good idea.


Can-Con was, in sum, small and tidy and quite a good time: everyone was really pleasant, the quality of the panel discussion (both the ones I was on and the ones I went to see) was really high -- there was a future of urban environments panel that any Toronto public space dork would have been happy to see -- and I have remembered that I like trains. They are very civilized. Also, I got to have quality time with [livejournal.com profile] kafkonia, [livejournal.com profile] deakat (who is a hero of the revolution for collecting me from the VIA station at 10:30 Friday night, dishevelled as I was), and [livejournal.com profile] monkeyman.

Saw a grand total of nothing of Ottawa, and missed seeing [livejournal.com profile] commodorified due to mishap, but I was in town for maybe 43 hours, and sometimes it can't be helped.

So that was that.

In other news, I've been slowly but steadily getting interview requests from bloggers interested in Above, and one of them has gone up this week at Spanish blog Soy Cazadora de Sombras y Libros. I link this one partially because I'm so floored by the dedication here: when so many people don't bother to read in their first language, loving books enough to read, and blog about it, and be an active participant in book culture in one's second or third language? Hardcore respect.

And that is about it for tonight, since tomorrow there is volunteer flyering early in the a.m., a gauntlet of book events in the p.m., and for all things must I be functional and awake.
So as mentioned previously, I am off to Can-Con on Friday; half because they asked me nicely and half because it means a visit with the Ottawa contingent of The People.

As of this writing, I also have a panel schedule:

Saturday, 1pm, B2
Memory, After the Apocalypse -- Barry Alder, Larry Stewart, Claire Eamer, Leah Bobet
What will be remembered if our civilization fails? If lack of electric power means we can’t use a computer, will anything electronic survive and be readable for our children and grandchildren?

Saturday, 2pm, B1
Women in Spec Fic -- Liana K., Shelley, Marisol, Leah Bobet, J.M. Frey
Women’s roles as writers – ranging from Mary Shelley’s book Frankenstein to Marion Z. Bradley’s Darkover series) and as characters – ranging from “Jirel of Joiry” onward.

Saturday, 9pm, B1
Encouraging Innovation -- Claire Eamer, Leah Bobet
Considering current advances in technology, what would motivate or encourage humans once the Singularity has occurred?

Sunday, 11am, B1
Keeping Your Readers on the Edge of Their Seats -- Hayden Trenholm, Leah Bobet, Marie Bilodeau
A thriller keeps you on the edge of your seat (assuming you’re reading in a chair), while crossing many genre lines. What makes a thriller a thriller, and how do you write a distinctly thrilling novel while keeping the theme within Speculative Fiction?

There are a few other panels I want to see, and some people I'd like to see, but otherwise, as usual, I will be found in the bar and/or other general gathering place, where the conversations are at.
August 28, 2011 Progress Notes:

"Shine a Light"

Words today: 200.
Words total: 750.
Reason for stopping: Leeetle too hyper to write something this stark.

Darling du Jour: This time it’s Basra. Aleksei leads her into the washroom on a constant murmur of apologies, and when they come back her second pinky finger’s sheared to the bottom joint.

Mean Things: Cutting people's fingers off. Blooooood. Not getting to feel it when your boyfriend wants to have fun sexytimes.
Research Roundup: N/A.

Books in progress: Wayson Choy, The Jade Peony.
The glamour: Booked my hostelling arrangements and such for my pre-WFC trip to Vancouver tonight. My internal notion of Vancouver is in the space triangulated by Douglas Coupland, Matthew Good, and the Robert Pickton murders. It is sort of like Canada's Own Gotham City.

I am so excited here.


Yes. So, Vancouver.

As a filthy bribe added incentive to encourage me to go to World Fantasy this year, I have thrown my last week of vacation at a pre-convention trip: Vancouver, a few days in Seattle, and then San Diego for the convention. Part of this is so I can see some friends who have moved out west this summer (including two members of my old gaming group, who are both quite dear to me). Part of it is so I can walk the city proper and thereby, maybe, get what I need to write Indestructible, which is now buzzing in my head like a toddler on drugs since it heard we're taking a trip.

Part of it is just the sheer pleasure of being in a different time zone than my to do list for a bit.

So I'm going to Vancouver. And then Seattle. And then San Diego, and WFC.

I see you there?
I am home from Readercon as of a few hours ago: tired, underslept, hoarse, auctorial, and happy. The con hotel is dry and remote, as always. The company is delicious, as always.

Brief notes follow.


I only went to one panel I wasn't on, but I was on seven of them, which ranged from decent to truly brain-fireworks amazing to oh-god-it's-Sunday-morning-drown-me-in-caffeine. Between that and the deathly allure of HallCon, I didn't make it many other places (and wish I'd caught a couple readings. I'd even brought my knitting for them). By me, the Cities, Real and Imagined panel and the post-slipstream one were the standouts, but the perspective from on the panel is always weird and skewed and different.

There was lobster three (3) times: Thursday dinner, Saturday at the Summer Shack before the Kirk Poland (as is the practice of our tribe), and in my pasta this afternoon at lunch. Mmrrmph. Lobsters.

This year's travel plan -- ie, why travel seperately when we can travel together? -- was a great idea. [livejournal.com profile] handful_ofdust, Claire Humphrey (our very own Ideomancer reviews editor, among other things) and I did the trip down and then some of the trip back together, and airports are a hell of a lot more fun when you have your friends with you and are giggling about incomprehensible 300/The Wire things while civilians watch you sidelong out of the corners of their eyes, shocked at the notion of Fun in the Airport. I think we will do this again next year, with spaces open as necessary on the Toronto Readerconvoy.

Did not actually hit any parties, but had some wonderful late-night conversations all three evenings.

Picked up some books, including Karen Lord's Redemption in Indigo and a newish Geoff Ryman.

Laughed myself sick at entirely too many pieces of silliness. You are all very silly and clever people.

Visited with My-Agent-I-Show-You-Her and caught up, and was gifted with a neat little bumblebee-covered kitchen apron (thanks!).

Left a panel to find myself in the hall right next to Neil Gaiman and Amanda Palmer, promptly had the Canadian Celebrity Reaction*, and went for lunch.

Mostly, I got to spend some good quality time with a whole lot of people: poets, writers, agents, editors, anthologists; the horror people, both home team and away team; the usual Quebec contingent; fans, reviewers, academics, and writers from the Boston area; my friends' VP classmates; my friends' Odyssey classmates; transmedia producers; conrunners; fans; book designers; YA sorts and SFF sorts; people who are generally fun. Readercon is always a really fantastic crowd and a series of tumbling, rolling, smart conversations, and it did not in the slightest disappoint this year.

And with that, I has a tired. Good con. Bed now.

*"Oh, that's someone famous. They seem like they're trying to do their thing, and all those people are swarming around them, and I really should let them just have their day and not bother them. I'll go over there now."

Allons-y.

Jul. 14th, 2011 11:56 am
(What's that? It means let's go.)

Not much blogging -- or writing -- this week: I've been caught up with real world/meatspace stuff, the inevitable demands of going out of town for Readercon in a few hours (panel research, frantic housecleaning, arranging of lunches, figuring-out of reading passages, etc., although I just canned it all last night and went out to a reading in Kensington instead), and the doings of Toronto City Council. Yes, this is a council week. It has pretty much eaten my head. Yes, the last few years have brought out my latent political process nerdery. What of it?

So. Long story short: sorry for the radio silence. And it will continue a little longer, because I'm going to Readercon, and have decided to not bring my laptop with me on the grounds that really, I should be hanging out with people I don't see enough of instead of sticking my face in the Internet.

If you are there? I will see you there! I look forward to our hanging out and many panels and some drinks!

If not, usual caveats apply about breaking the place while I'm gone, and while I will check e-mail once a day (or try to) from the business centre, don't expect any substantial answers from me until Sunday night, when I return to my treehousey lair.

(Allons-y. Let's go.)

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