C.S. and I came in Thursday afternoon. Check in went smoothly, but immediately we realized that there would be insufficient parking for everybody, so no moving the car once it was parked. The closest parking spot we could find was somewhere in Canada--it was a long hike back to the Tower. No fridge in the room, so we put our booze and food on the deck. C.S. managed to get the very last roll-away bed! Thank goodness.
I grabbed food at the bar, clam chowder and salad (with drinks.) I wish all my meals were that good. The rest of the food was okay, but that clam chowder was a great start to the weekend. I did commit a sin, though. I ate alone. Then, dancing. Yes, a dance was held on Thursday night, and I was a very happy camper. The music rocked. I noticed that new luggage had appeared in our room, evidence that the wonderful M.K. Hobson, our roomie, had arrived. We ran into each other later, and I commenced to talk her ear off. Luckily she had more than one ear, so I was able to talk more ears off later.
I liked the techno to dance to, and there was plenty of that on Thursday night. As much as it's fun to go down memory lane, as we did on Saturday night, it can't compare to the intoxicating rhythms of music designed to induce a euphoric melding of mind and body. Saturday night's music would have been greatly improved if it had more techno mixed in. Anyway, I got to see for the first time 'balloon man.' The story (rumor) goes that he had to lose a lot of weight to save his life, so he started dancing. He chose a unique way that's sort of a cross between rhythmic gymnastics and tai chi. He alternates between using feathery wings and a giant, translucent ball that he manipulates with grace and zen-like focus. Every time I landed at the dances, he was there.
At 11pm, Jeff Soesbe held a kewl spelling bee. Wookiee has two ees. Really. I would have gotten it wrong too! Oh, and when someone asks you to pick a number, don't pick 3.
Friday was Ken Scholes day. I went to his infamous class for writers. We had some pros appear, both to provide input and, it seemed to me, to listen and learn. If you're a writer and get a chance to go to a Ken Scholes presentation/workshop/lecture on writing, do yourself a favor and go. He had three hours for this class, and we ran out of time. I took lots of notes.
Afterward I parked my butt in the bar to eat, and started running into people. Before I knew it, I'd been introduced to and spoken with many wonderful folks including members of Fairwood Writers (a fantastic pro writing group,) the excellent Cat Rambo and her car-kewl and mellow husband Wayne, the amazing Kelly Robson aka kelly_yoyo, the awesome A.M. Dellamonica. and others. I was in the bar for five hours. Finally I got my numb butt out of the chair and headed up to the room, where I talked M.K.'s other ear off for a bit before going to Jeff Soesbe's reading (described on his blog, and yes, they were well received and I enjoyed the stories a lot.) I also stayed for Mark Teppo's reading. The stories created openings for much discussion later and will continue to do so. Jeff came over for absenthe (it's spelled many ways, more usually absinthe but that's the way it's spelled on my bottle--maybe it's a French thing) and Navan.
Lots of fun. Saturday and Sunday to come, if I have time to go over them. I'm sure I'm forgetting kewl stuff (including a pro party I remember crashing at some point,) and I probably got some stuff out of order, but that's what happens. Best thing to do if you want to experience a con is to go and grok it. Grok. G, R, O, K, grok.
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