Well, THAT was exciting

It's 3:36 PM Central time, I'm currently in the air somewhere over Pennsylvania (or maybe Ohio, who knows), and I just had a moment of blind and utter panic when my PowerBook wouldn't start. This is not good, especially since it's only been in my possession for a couple of weeks, contains all the stuff I wanted to read this weekend and is the only way I can make updates to this site.

Repeated pressing of the Start button finally fired up the Precious, however, and all is now well with the world (apart from the chickie sitting in front of me who keeps glaring because I have the Precious and my computer case wedged between me and her seat back, preventing her from completely reclining into my space. Boo fricking hoo). Admittedly, it would've been nicer if I hadn't taken the folding headphones out of my bag ("Oh, I'll bring my decent set," I thought, then discovered they wouldn't fit in the computer case and put them in my checked luggage. Hey, I never claimed I was bright), but I only have an 84% charge anyway so it's probably best that I'm not wasting my battery on iTunes.

I'm also semi-zombified, after staying up until 4:00 AM this morning finishing up some costume work, running clothes through the laundry and actually packing. However, I richly deserve my weariness because I blew off a perfectly good Saturday when I could've done the bulk of the sewing and washing; instead, I watched BREAKING THE WAVES and knitted 75% of a shawl, both of which were worthwhile endeavours but could have been saved for a time when I wasn't trying to finish an 18th century ballgown.

But no matter -- the gown is safely stored in my carry-on case (no way I'm trusting THAT to luggage handlers), the Worldcon adventure is properly underway, and my trusty con beyotch Steve Staton will be picking me up from Logan and running me to the hotel like the poppet he is. With luck we'll be able to pick up our badges tonight, and then it'll be a frantic evening of dinner, more sewing and other tasks before we return to Logan to pick up the Bodacious Brit, who'll be arriving at 11:55 PM tonight.

Oh, well. I'll sleep when I'm dead, right? Speaking of sleeping and lack of same, this will be my schedule for the next five days:

THURSDAY

9:30 AM - fit the Royal Gown to Esther and pray to various deities that I didn't screw up the measurements.

10:00 AM - 12:00 PM - hem Royal Gown once I have Her Maj's inseam.

12:00 PM - 2:00 PM -- man the SFWA table in the dealer's room.

5:00 PM - It Came From The South - Bubba SF&F

F. Brett Cox (M)
Melanie Fletcher
Lee Martindale
Allen Steele

Southern gothic is a recognized theme in literature. How does liveing in the South (U.S., that is) affect writers views, styles, plots, and outlooks? Is it more than just funny dialects?

9:00 PM - First Night Musketeer Skit

The SFWA Musketeers, La Reine, the Cardinal, his Henchwenches, and a Rude Artisan perform a skit in the Mended Drum and advertise the Demo on Saturday.

FRIDAY

1:00 PM - Autographing

Not that I'm expecting anyone to ask me to sign anything, but you never know.

2:00 PM - Fencing and Swordfighting - for Kids!

Wherein I get to make a whole bunch of balloon swords and teach kids how to play swishy-poke with them.

4:00 PM - SFF.Net Suite Reading (1 hour)

8:00 PM - Reading (0.5 hrs)

SATURDAY

4:00 PM - SFWA Musketeers Fencing Demo

Jay Caselberg
Brenda W. Clough
Melanie Fletcher
Esther Friesner
Laura Anne Gilman
John G. Hemry
Lee Martindale
Elizabeth Moon
Vera Nazarian
Madeleine E. Robins
Selina Rosen
Susan Shwartz
Steven H. Silver
Laura Underwood
Liz Williams

10:00 PM - Genre Erotica

Billie Aul (M)
Stephen Dedman
Melanie Fletcher
Victoria McManus
Cecilia Tan

Why would you write SF/F/H erotica when you can just write SF/F/H? When you could just write erotica? What things can you do in this cross-genre that you really can't do anywhere else? Doesn't all this genre stuff just get in the way of the main point of the erotica? Give examples. Explore the edges of sexulaity...,the displacement of desire and repression, sex and power relationships, trans-sexual or transpecies (or simply transcendent?) sex. . .or just talk about sex, death, and rock and roll. . .

SUNDAY

3:00 PM - Defending the Writing Life

Brenda W. Clough
Jack Dann
Melanie Fletcher (M)
Gavin Grant
Gay Haldeman
David Marusek

Or, "You're not busy, are you?" What to say when your parent, neighbor, or the mom besides you at playgroup asks, "So, are you still doing that writing stuff?" Why do writers have to defend their occupation to others? Why do our relatives and neighbors all think that because we're home we aren't really working? What great responses can you give them?

4:00 PM - A Special Event

Of which I cannot speak at the moment, but will document when it occurs.

MONDAY

11:30 AM - 19th Century Influence on 21st Century Writing

Melanie Fletcher

How much of a debt does modern SF/F/H owe to 19th century writers such as H.G. Wells, Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley and Lewis Carroll? Come and explore the origins of specfic in the "penny dreadfuls," children's literature and popular novels of the Georgian and Victorian periods.

1:00 PM - Dealing with Job/Family/Life!

F. Brett Cox
Melanie Fletcher
Paul Levinson (M)
Benjamin Rosenbaum
Michelle Sagara West

Many artists and writers hold a full time job of one sort or another; learn about methods for squeezing time out for SF work. And how do you pursue "the loneliest profession" and have time for your family too?

Meanwhile, at the hotel. . .

After landing, it turned out that the Red Sox were playing at Fenway Stadium and my erstwhile ride (the peripatetic Steve Staton) was stuck in traffic in front of the con hotel. I told him to park up and wait for me, and cabbed it there instead (and why, pray tell, do I always get the chatty drivers who want to know all about me?).

The Sheraton Boston turned out to be nice (and for once we're actually in the hotel attached directly to the convention center), but my room is an utter shoebox. I dumped my stuff, Steve introduced me to his friend Tom, and we headed out in search of food. A nice Thai place was located a few blocks away, and we chatted about politics while chowing down on pad thai and other yummies.

Back at the hotel, I waved the boys off to a meet 'n' greet with Pratchett while I worked on the Royal Gown, which was slowly approaching completion but not quite fast enough for my taste, especially as I was supposed to fit it to Esther tomorrow morning around 10:00 AM. Eeesh. Lyndon arrived sometime after eleven, after an adventure of his own (a Pakistani guy on his flight did NOT want to give up a large cardboard box he brought on the plane, and insisted it sat on the empty seat next to him. He sat directly in front of Lyn, who then spent the entire flight with his belt open so that if things went wahoonie-shaped he could whip off the belt and throw it around the guy's neck. Yes, my love is that kind of a guy.

Anyway, it's a little past midnight, I've got the waistband attached to the skirt, and my eyes are small and red from too much squinting and too little sleep, so I'm signing off. Until tomorrow, I remain your humble reporter.