WorldCon Part 2: Thursday, a semi-satisfying Day 1
We arrived in Spokane on Thursday afternoon. I dropped BM off at her hotel and headed to mine. Time was of the essence. I had to check in. I wanted to take a little decompression time in the wake of all the driving. I had to find dinner of some kind and get ready for one of the two panels on which I was to appear. I actually did pretty well, with enough time to get registered, get my guest packet, do a turn through half of the dealer's room, and buy myself a beautiful new ring with three semi-precious stones in it. I had an . . . adequate sandwich at the convention center snack bar before my first panel.
So dinner was a Thing. See, when you hang around conventions and fandom long enough, you get to know the names of the BNFs (big name fans) and you begin to recognize people who surely won't recognize you. I was sitting at a table where two older women were seated, mainly because all the other tables were full. They were chatting in clearly New York accents about filk and about people they knew. And one oft them, for some reason, seemed familiar. There was something about her that I seemed to know though I couldn't place her. I looked at her name badge, and she turned out to be Roberta Rogow, a well-known fan writer and filker whose work I'd known back when I was active in New York and media fandom. That was a kind of nice surprise. We chatted a little bit. She talked about her self-published book. And then we went our separate ways.
I was off to my first panel, on using role-playing games as a writer's tool. It was not a satisfying experience. I understand why I was put on the panel, but I had my doubts about it from the start. Mostly two particular people talked a lot; getting a word in was challenging. And while I've edited game-related works, my experience as an RPG player is limited. Most of what I had to say was more about writing than gaming, and another editor on the panel pretty much took care of that material. By the end of the panel I felt a little frustrated and, I admit, a little irritated and outgunned. I got out of the room as soon as I could.
The rest of the evening proved much more satisfying. Earlier in the day, I was invited to a private party and spent the better part of the evening there, catching up with friends and basking in the sort of convention energy I just love. What became clear, though, by about 10 PM was that after a six-hour drive and a lot of excitement, I was wiped and it was time to retire.
This is a terrible picture of me, but it's a great picture with friends at the party.
So dinner was a Thing. See, when you hang around conventions and fandom long enough, you get to know the names of the BNFs (big name fans) and you begin to recognize people who surely won't recognize you. I was sitting at a table where two older women were seated, mainly because all the other tables were full. They were chatting in clearly New York accents about filk and about people they knew. And one oft them, for some reason, seemed familiar. There was something about her that I seemed to know though I couldn't place her. I looked at her name badge, and she turned out to be Roberta Rogow, a well-known fan writer and filker whose work I'd known back when I was active in New York and media fandom. That was a kind of nice surprise. We chatted a little bit. She talked about her self-published book. And then we went our separate ways.
I was off to my first panel, on using role-playing games as a writer's tool. It was not a satisfying experience. I understand why I was put on the panel, but I had my doubts about it from the start. Mostly two particular people talked a lot; getting a word in was challenging. And while I've edited game-related works, my experience as an RPG player is limited. Most of what I had to say was more about writing than gaming, and another editor on the panel pretty much took care of that material. By the end of the panel I felt a little frustrated and, I admit, a little irritated and outgunned. I got out of the room as soon as I could.
The rest of the evening proved much more satisfying. Earlier in the day, I was invited to a private party and spent the better part of the evening there, catching up with friends and basking in the sort of convention energy I just love. What became clear, though, by about 10 PM was that after a six-hour drive and a lot of excitement, I was wiped and it was time to retire.
This is a terrible picture of me, but it's a great picture with friends at the party.
