Random thoughts on LonCon3, the 2014 World Science Fiction Convention:
The Key To A Good Day Is An Unhealthy All You Can Eat Breakfast
As is my habit, I survived the con on a diet of all-you-can-eat breakfasts and chocolate. In particular, chocolate chip cookies, which I hadn't eaten in I can't remember when (thank you, Alison Buck). Oh, chocolate chip cookies, let us never lose track of each other again!
Of course, this diet did bad things to my complexion. Very bad things. Let's just say that the sun wasn't the only thing breaking out every morning!
Business Classless
A small airport lay across the River Thames from the ExCel Centre where the convention was held. A very thin, not especially impressive part of the River Thames. Planes took off from the airport every two minutes; 25 loud booms later, you knew that your panel was over.
Mr. Tact Strikes Again
I nearly got into a fistfight with a paranormal romance writer.
The one panel I was on was "Canadian Science Fiction and Fantasy" because, you know, I'm Canadian and I write science fiction, so I must know everything there is to know on the subject. Or, at least, be able to bullshit my way through fifty minutes of discussion. (Smart money's on the latter proposition.) I was told that panellists should congregate in the Green Room, liberate their complimentary beverages from the cooler and wait for somebody to take them to the room where the panel was being held. Sure. And the Casablanca tourist guides emphasize the allure of the city's waters!
Two women sitting at a table near mine were discussing sex scenes in novels. So, I sauntered over and said I never portray them because they are usually dreadful. One of the women, who identified herself as a paranormal romance writer, disagreed. At this point, somebody with more tact - or better self-preservation skills - would have walked away, but that ideal person is not me.
I made the argument (which can be found in my first novel and the special promotional newspaper I produced just for LonCon3) that sex in literature is either graphic, which makes it seem mechanical, or euphemistic, which doesn't capture the nature of the act, and often subjects the reader to bad poetry. She countered that sex in her writing was an extension of character, that readers could know who the people in her novels really were by how they performed in bed. (Or, I suppose, the kitchen. Or, the barn. Or, a train speeding away from Beijing.)
Then, oh, look at the time, I really must get to my panel now - I left.
Okay, it was all very civilized and the situation never really threatened to come to blows. But, if it had, I think I could have taken her. Okay, I'm a middle-aged man with a heart condition and asthma - in a fair fight, she probably would have kicked my ass. But, if biting were allowed, I would probably have been able to hold my own for a few seconds!
Please Be Aware That Schmuddle Buddle Inframatous Hoopondulous!The PA system in the ExCel Centre was so terrible, it made me nostalgic for messages on the PA system on the TTC!
He'd Cut Off Your Head If You Tried!
The most common reason cited by people who didn't buy books at the Elsewhen Press table was that they already had too many books to read (followed closely by the idea that they couldn't afford to buy any more books). And, I thought: Really? Would you dare to use that excuse with George R. R. Martin?
Panel Limericks
Obligatory Sincere Section
My main reason for going to LonCon3 was actually to spend time with some great people. At the top of my list were publishers Peter and Alison Buck. I wanted to reconnect with fellow authors Dave Weaver (Jacey's Kingdom) and James Starling (Arteess: Conflict), both of whom I had met at EasterCon last year. Add to this meeting more of Elsewhen Press' authors, including: Sanem Ozdural (LiGaTM), Mike French (the Dandelion trilogy), Douglas Thompson (The Rhymer), Caspian (The Magician in the Attic) and Christopher Nuttal (several books in at least two different series). I am humbled and delighted to be counted among such talented people.
Finally, I would be remiss if I didn't thank my good friend Joy Pearl, not for the wonderful cucumber sandwiches she spoiled me with a couple of weeks earlier at Con Bravo - okay, for them, too, but not only for the cucumber sandwiches. Joy, who is British, pointed out to me that World Con was happening in London two and a half years ago, and said I should plan to go because my sense of humour would resonate with the British. If it hadn't been for her, I probably wouldn't have considered a British publisher for my novels or ended up going to LonCon3.
The world will ultimately make its own judgment about the value of that, but I'll always be grateful.
Just Another Of The Many Sacrifices I Make For My Art
The last couple of days of the con, I had the all-you-can-eat breakfast with a woman I met at the hotel. Our conversation ranged from international politics to the nature of humour. It was delightful. As an added bonus, on the final day of the convention, she stopped by the table and bought both of my novels.
Well! If I had known it was going to be like that, I would have eaten the all-you-can-eat breakfast twelve times a day. I may have exceeded the maximum weight allowance on the plane home, but the book sales would have been worth it!
LonCon3 photos
