my Sunday feeling
So after all my pissing and moaning about Lunacon, they went and put on a decent convention. Attendance was still way too fucking low, but I'm pretty sure they improved on last year's (awful) numbers, which is the opposite of what I expected. I was particularly pleased to see a larger-than-expected contingent of younger folks, which is what the con desperately needs.
They also announced that next year's Author GoH is Jonathan Maberry, who is a phenomenal choice. They just need to fix the programming problems, as they had snafus up the wazoo for the second year in a row, and this year was categorically worse. That seriously needs to be fixed.
From my POV, I sold some books and some Boogie Knights CDs, my panels were all well attended (the Doctor Who panel and Eye of Argon reading were especially fantastic), and a half dozen people came for my reading, where I regaled them with "Catch and Release," one of the stories from Tales from Dragon Precinct.
The sad part is that there were no fewer than four memorials at the con: for Danny Lieberman, for jan howard finder (a.k.a. Wombat), for Josepha Sherman, and for Bill Harrison. The technical term for this is "sucky." Also: fuck cancer.
I plan to spend tomorrow vegging, as is my wont following a con, and then going to karate for one final time before the black belt promotion commences on Wednesday. One of the other things I did this weekend was write my essay, which we all have to do. I also have to bear down on The Project That Cannot Be Named (Yet) and some editorial work. Wheeee!
I'm exhausted. I should probably go to bed.....
They also announced that next year's Author GoH is Jonathan Maberry, who is a phenomenal choice. They just need to fix the programming problems, as they had snafus up the wazoo for the second year in a row, and this year was categorically worse. That seriously needs to be fixed.
From my POV, I sold some books and some Boogie Knights CDs, my panels were all well attended (the Doctor Who panel and Eye of Argon reading were especially fantastic), and a half dozen people came for my reading, where I regaled them with "Catch and Release," one of the stories from Tales from Dragon Precinct.
The sad part is that there were no fewer than four memorials at the con: for Danny Lieberman, for jan howard finder (a.k.a. Wombat), for Josepha Sherman, and for Bill Harrison. The technical term for this is "sucky." Also: fuck cancer.
I plan to spend tomorrow vegging, as is my wont following a con, and then going to karate for one final time before the black belt promotion commences on Wednesday. One of the other things I did this weekend was write my essay, which we all have to do. I also have to bear down on The Project That Cannot Be Named (Yet) and some editorial work. Wheeee!
I'm exhausted. I should probably go to bed.....
