World Fantasy Convention, Day 1
Those following me on Twitter may have noticed a sharp spike in The Hyper last night (and a steep decline in typing accuracy, unless I was actually Twittering from the future, attending wfc3009.) This morning I am trying to sort out how best to explain why.
I’ll begin at the beginning.
I left home much later than I anticipated, discovered that all of my music had mysteriously disappeared from my iPhone, and thus had a pretty long four hours in the car. I arrived at the Fairmont without incident, got checked in (which was unfortunately With Incident – I did not know about the $100 Incidentals charge and had not budgeted for it,) put my luggage away and went in search of registration.
The badge is a lovely thing with a reading angel Poppet on it, the swag bag has enough books and magazines in it to keep me in reading material for months, and the hotel was absolutely teeming with writers of speculative fiction, none of whom I knew.
So I sat down in the bar and turned to the Power of the Internet. Within a few minutes I had found another solo con-goer through Twitter; we met up and then added ourselves to the table of another Twittering couple. More people showed up and next thing I know I’m being given a guided tour through a gorgeous recently-revamped periodical by the Assistant Editor and chatting with a World Fantasy Award nominee.
That sounds fan-ish, I know, but this wasn’t a star-struck feeling. I’m here in the capacity of Unsuccessful Writer, not Fan, and I’m pretty comfortable with that.
I think what it was is that I have never had the experience of sitting down with a dozen really smart people who are all talking about things I care deeply about. The writing field is not one I get to talk about in any real depth with my friends, brilliant and wonderful as they all are. It’s just not their thing, so the future of SFWA and the cover art selection of Realms of Fantasy is not going to be engrossing conversation for them. Here those are exactly the kinds of things that are being talked about, by people much wiser than I. To be a part of that conversation, in whatever limited way I was able, felt wonderful.
I had told our original group of four that it was my birthday, and my new friend bought me a drink and made a point of re-announcing my birthday to everyone who joined the group as the night wore on. It was very sweet of her.
I woke up this morning to another rejection in my inbox – not an unusual occurrence, I know, but today it felt a little bit more significant.
It is nearly time for more convening. More news as it happens.