Saturday,
February 23, 2002
ConDFW - DAY ONE

Sterling and readings and sleep, oh my!

Yep, it's day one of Dallas's newest literary SF convention, ConDFW, situated in the lovely Richardson Radisson on Campbell Road. My schedule, you ask? Why, I'm happy to oblige:

7:00 AM -- slap at the alarm, remember that the FutureClassics were going to gather for breakfast before our 10:00 AM panel. Decide, "Screw it" and go back to sleep.

8:30 AM -- haul my lazy ass out of bed to print off various stories, handouts for the panel. Stagger into the bathroom to put on some slap.

9:30 AM -- frigging printer prints slower than some old people engage in coitus. Finally get out the door and channel Steve on Central. I think I frightened the other drivers, and that's saying something.

10:01 AM -- dash into the FutureClassics panel late, and volunteer to moderate as apology. It went well -- we described the structure of the group, how we do our critiques, how we're encouraging the creation of other groups in the area, and good stuff like that. Bruce Sterling asked if we'd come up with any special shorthand during critiques -- we told him about phrases such as "the dookie boat" (a plot element is distracting the reader from the story), "not messy enough" (not enough comflict) "kill some puppies" (ramp up the tension), and "pulling a Melanie" (adding lots of sex and possibly some violence to a story). He took notes. Oh, dear.

11:00 AM -- met up with Julia and hit the dealer's room to buy a beautiful pair of black and blue dangly earrings and scope out the book sellers. Wound up seeing Selina Rosen, who asked when we'd be fencing that afternoon. We settled on 4:00 PM, and I headed off to check into the room, attend and sit on panels and gab with all and sundry for the next couple of hours.

3:00 PM -- Julia and I head off in search of booze. See, Collin County (where Richardson and Plano are located) is "damp" -- you can buy beer and wine, but no liquor. Since I only drink Bailey's, we took Derek's advice and headed into the heart of Dallas to stop off at a liquor store and stock up for the evening.

4:00 PM -- got back to the hotel, and we both realized that we really, really, really needed naps. Selina's going to be so pissed. . .

6:00 PM -- Lyndon calls up to the room. "Where are you? Everyone's been looking for you?" Oh, dear. Turns out that Selina fenced for an hour with Jeff Turner, assuming that I was about to show up at any moment. Oh double dear. Am called a weenie. I apologize profusely. This will be the pattern for the evening.

6:30 PM -- Derek, Julia, Robert, Jeff, Lyndon and myself head off to have dinner at a local Mexican eatery. In the middle of the meal, my breasts ring -- I fish out my cell phone from my cleavage. It's Steve -- he's on his way, and where are we? I tell him, and he shows up twenty minutes later to grab a soda and chat with us. As we're getting ready to leave, Jerry and Becky show up, so we have some cross-table chat while we're waiting for our bills.

7:45 PM -- we finally get back to the hotel, and I run around like a blue-arsed fly trying to get stuff set up for my reading. It's in the sitting area behind the bar. Oh, dear.

8:00 PM -- start the reading. I do "Happily Ever After" and "I Play Dead," both of which are received with laughter and appreciation (Steve pumps a fist at the "2001" reference in "I Play Dead"). Stay to listen to Kelley Buzbee's reading, then head off with Steve and Lyndon to learn the game Cosmic Encounters.

10:00 PM -- Cosmic Encounters is essentially lawyers in space -- I haven't heard such complicated instructions since I tried to put together my nephew's Lego pirate ship this Christmas.

10:15 PM -- Steve heads home, and Lyndon and I crash in one of the meeting rooms with a bunch of other people to tell stories, pass around my bottle of Bailey's and generally relax. A good time is had by all.

12:00 PM -- time for bed, truly.