Columbus is where the cool girls sing all night
So. WFC 2010. Good time.
I'm not going to give your typical con report, listing names and panels and whatnot. Mostly because I'm terrified of leaving people off, but also because I wasn't keeping a running checklist in my head and I'm kind of tired. Not firing on all cylinders. But I'm worried that if I don't get this report out there I'm going to start forgetting things. It took me forever last night to remember what I did on Saturday night for dinner, not because it wasn't an interesting meal, but because I had just gotten out of my car and was just pacing around the house trying to remember how to be a normal person. (Dinner was with Amy and Yonni and Richard, at the brewpub. I did remember eventually.)
I nearly didn't go this year. Horrible idea, not going. I've finally figured out that WFC isn't a business con for me anymore. There was stage where, professionally, WFC was the only convention that mattered. No longer true. But socially? Vital. Without WFC I'd be a hermit all year long, rather than all year minus four days. And those four days matter. Tremendously.
So, generally speaking, it was a great con. There are ways in which it was my best WFC yet, in the sense that I think I'm finally getting into the mode of being a writer. This is the first con in which people recognized me. Not just people whose job it is to know who I am, but completely random attendees stopping me in the hallway to ask questions about Heart of Veridon. This doesn't happen to me. Only, now it does.
On top of that, I feel like I'm getting to a point of recognition among the professionals in the industry. Two different people stopped me in parties to ask if they could take my picture, including Liza from Locus magazine. LOCUS. It's surreal. While walking through the Dealer Room, a lady from the next Worldcon handed me an invitation. It had my name on it? I realize it's just a sticker and a database, but it's a database that I'm in. It's all very strange.
People who know me know that I maintain a pretty low level of respect for my own work. It has something to do with standards, or just pushing myself to get better, but someone asked me to read something from the book that I liked, and I did, and my god. I liked doing that. I liked thinking, even briefly, that I was good at what I do. I'm not looking for compliments or affirmations or anything. I'm just saying. It was important to me.
So that's your con report. There were meetings in bars and at parties. I went to two panels and walked out of both of them because I would rather be talking to my friends. I have a bruise from shaking too many hands. I drank enough to not freak out socially, and little enough to not freak out socially, and never had a hangover. Every night I was up until 3:30.
And now I'm home, and I'm feeling pretty good. So thank you, everyone. And see you next year. In a bar.