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[personal profile] choco_frosh


I am back from Readercon. It was fun again as usual, although there wasn’t any of the “Unexpected meeting and then hanging out with awesome people” that have made past years so memorable. Thursday I spent essentially volunteering non-stop: helping to unpack supplies from storage, then going on a mission to pick up [personal profile] nineweaving and a writer from out of town who was an old acquaintance of hers, a trip that turned into a parade of screwups and minor disasters. (More on that later, maybe.) Then did yet more setting up. My panel that evening turned out to be kind of disappointing, but there was hanging out in the bar, so that was ok. Err, I think there was hanging out, anyway. It’s not the maybe one beer I had; it’s just that that was several days of intense socializing and not enough sleep ago.

Friday I hauled my butt in early(ish), by T this time; helped set up registration, helped set up the Con. Suite, attempted to find coffee in the Con. Suite, discovered there was no coffee in the Con. Suite, and spent some time apologizing for the lack of coffee in the Con. Suite to everyone who came by, until one of the people who came by was the personal actually in charge of con. suite—with coffee. I made it to [personal profile] sovay’s reading at noon, and then unfortunately failed to make it to one by GOH Nnedi Okorafor and a panel on Asian speculative fic., both of which could probably have actually taught me something. I suspect I was hanging out with people. Or possibly reading Naomi Novik’s Uprooted: they were giving out free copies to volunteers, so I devoured it and then spent the rest of the weekend gushing about it to everyone I met, regardless of whether they’d already read it. Did make it to an interesting (and occasionally hilarious) panel featuring Nine later in the afternoon, and then I think there was pizza or something. I also made it to the annual Meet The Prose party, but I had to skip out before the equally raditional retro dance even started, in order to catch the last train home.
I have GOT to get a room at the hotel for Friday night next year.
Well, assuming I have any money.
I’d been drinking coffee off and on all day and into the evening, trying to make up for how much I hadn’t slept the PREVIOUS night, and unfortunately it all chose the minute after I finally got back to bed to kick in. I eventualy gave up and finished Uprooted, and then did some chores in the small hours of the morning, before forcing myself to go lie down so I could rest, if nothing else. I think I got maybe three hours of sleep.

Saturday was Naomi Novik Fanboy day. I’d been planning to attend the “Life, Love & Robots” panel at noon, because I have a lot of feelings on the subject (especially after reading The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet one too many times; but instead I opted for the Novik reading. She’s working on a Jewish/Lithuanian tinged version of Rumpelstiltskin, so I think I actually made the right call. And then I went to her Kaffeeklatsch, too.
(I also, in the course of the day, went to a panel on interplanetary settlement that turned out to be disappointing; did a little volunteering; and hung out in the Con. suite some more.)
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