sovay | We're all mad here

Current Music: The Pixies, "La La Love You"

We're all mad here

I am returned from Readercon.

This was my third year in attendance, and as cons go, it was particularly awesome. High points included, but are not limited to, meeting

eegatland (and hearing the first chapter of her novel-after-next The Sword Dance),

sdn's stories about Lloyd Alexander, a very rapid conversation about film with Eric Van, the expression on

time_shark's face after he won his third Rhysling Award, reading a collaboration with

lesser_celery, recording three of my poems in Drew Morse's hotel room, and the entire panel on Angela Carter. The Kirk Poland Memorial Bad Prose Competition ("Metal things that could think! Thinking metal things!") probably left me with permanent brain damage. I need to see

yuki_onna and

grailquestion (not to mention

matociquala) in more than fleeting glimpses. My book haul was small, but worthy: Elizabeth E. Wein's The Lion Hunter, thanks to the dealer's room, and Ysabeau Wilce's Flora Segunda, thanks to

rushthatspeaks. Next year, I am getting a room at the con hotel.

But first, I think I'm going to fall over.

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("Metal things that could think! Thinking metal things!") probably left me with permanent brain damage.

Heheh. Those lines alone make me feel like I swallowed thumb tacks and they went straight to my thinking metal head.

Those lines alone make me feel like I swallowed thumb tacks and they went straight to my thinking metal head.

You laugh, but someday you will come to Readercon and take part in a Kirk Poland, and some of those sentences will never—even after years of therapy and yellow soap—leave your brain.

you will come to Readercon and take part in a Kirk Poland

Oh, do attendees write the material or do they bring in examples of bad prose that they've read? It sounds kind of challenging, actually--at least, if the idea is not just to make bad prose but to make interestingly bad prose. The "Thinking metal things" is kind of interesting, in its way. I would want to make a Hindenburg, not merely a car accident (though I guess this falls under the heading of "be careful what you wish for").

even after years of therapy and yellow soap—leave your brain.

"My brain is yellow soap! Yellow soap that thinks! Thinking yellow soap! For a brain! My brain! Why can't I go home!? My happy home. A home that is happy . . ."

By the way, if you find yourself up at 3:30am, I highly recommend Modern Times on TCM.

Oh, do attendees write the material or do they bring in examples of bad prose that they've read?

If you've entered the competition. Each round, the audience is presented with a paragraph of staggeringly bad, professionally published (oh, Piers Anthony and L. Ron Hubbard, what would we do without you?) science fiction, fantasy, or horror prose, which breaks off in mid-sentence. The four or five contestants up onstage then each read a completion of the paragraph. The audience has to guess which one is the real completion, rather than the rest which the contestants have written themselves; for each fake which the audience votes for, the writer gets a point, and the audience gets a point for each correct identification. (This is done by a show of hands, and Eric Van keeps a running tally of the score.) Throughout the competition, a fragmentary sentence has been recurring always as the last line of a given paragraph—this year's was ". . . light that had mildew on it. It was obscure, as though the wick of the cosmic torch had been turned down, but nevertheless it was light." In the last round, various lead-ins to this line have been written, and the audience has to pick which one is the real intro. Usually the audience comes in third or fourth or dead last. This year, the audience was second by a bare twenty or twenty-five points. And it is confirmed that Yves Meynard is ridiculously talented at faking the audience out. His final entry was dead ringer William Hope Hodgson pastiche.

"My brain is yellow soap! Yellow soap that thinks! Thinking yellow soap! For a brain! My brain! Why can't I go home!? My happy home. A home that is happy . . ."

Lionel Fanthorpe would be proud . . .

By the way, if you find yourself up at 3:30am, I highly recommend Modern Times on TCM.

I am hoping to be, for a change, asleep, since one of the reasons I attend so few cons is that they have a certain exhausting death-march aspect for me. (I am hoping this will change as my stamina improves. It's nothing to do with the atmosphere of the con itself.) But it is very tempting.

and the audience has to pick which one is the real intro. Usually the audience comes in third or fourth or dead last.

There's something oddly comforting about the fact that mediocrity is imitable.

Lionel Fanthorpe would be proud . . .

Wow. I was waiting for him to say he wouldn't eat green eggs and ham on a strange, alien, terrifying plate (or would that be greeny eggs and ham?).

Have you read any of Stephen Colbert's Alpha Squad Seven: Lady Nocturne: A Tek Jansen Adventure (http://www.colbertnation.com/cn/tekjansen.php)?

I am hoping to be, for a change, asleep,

Yeah, me too, actually, since the routines around here have been pretty strange . . .

I asked

grimmwire about this the next day, and he said he usually had to re-write his first efforts, as they tended to be too good . . .

You were one of the swell things about Readercon.

Nine

You were one of the swell things about Readercon.

Thank you. As were you!

I can't clean my bathroom now without thinking about "It was light with mildew on it."

(BTW: The promo flyers for next year's con sort of insinuated we might not be at the Burlington Marriot next time...)

I can't clean my bathroom now without thinking about "It was light with mildew on it."

Somehow that phrase kept coming up at dinner tonight . . .

(BTW: The promo flyers for next year's con sort of insinuated we might not be at the Burlington Marriot next time...)

Er. Then where?

That's correct. I believe that the new hotel has not yet been announced, possibly not even determined. According to this, it's because the Burlington Marriott closed the restaurant despite contractual obligations otherwise.

it's because the Burlington Marriott closed the restaurant despite contractual obligations otherwise.

Thanks. Bah.

I wish I'd at least said hello. Such a whirlwind that I'm not sure I even saw you.

Best,
Geoffrey

I wish I'd at least said hello. Such a whirlwind that I'm not sure I even saw you.

I saw you passing in the hallway, but I'm not sure I was even coherent enough to shout hello. This is what next year is for.

I wish I didn't have to fly in and fly out like I did; it seems a really bad way to do a con.

I wish I didn't have to fly in and fly out like I did; it seems a really bad way to do a con.

It was still good to see you. (You will have to stay longer next year.) Hearing "Papa Silenus Went Courting" was one of the other high points.

Likewise seeing you, though I'd dearly love to chat sometime when there is a time for chatting I'm not quite so gobsmacked by everything.

I feel like I was very much in the presence of giants at the reading; I've been to one or two amateur poetry things when I was a lot younger, but all the poems in the reading were awesome and the people who wrote them knew what they were doing and why. I didn't feel out of place, either, once I'd read.

Thank you for being one of the first to clap when I went up to read. That meant a lot.

Likewise seeing you, though I'd dearly love to chat sometime when there is a time for chatting I'm not quite so gobsmacked by everything.

Yes. Anything else you'd come up to Boston for?

I didn't feel out of place, either, once I'd read.

Good!

Thank you for being one of the first to clap when I went up to read. That meant a lot.

You're welcome. Thank you for reading.

Yes. Anything else you'd come up to Boston for?

I come up infrequently; my best friend in the world lives up in Caimbridge, but will be moving to NYC in August; I have some other very excellent friends up there as well, who I see far less than I'd like, and August is looking, unlike the rest of July, wedding-free. I will definitely let you know when I visit the city, which I've resolved to do more often, when I get the chance.

You're welcome. Thank you for reading.
It was pretty much like teaching, and I've had classes bigger than the audience, so no worries there. The con was, in all a really good experience in terms of learning and figuring out a direction, and, to a certain extent, feeling like a professional.

Sounds lovely. Glad you enjoyed yourself.

And I hope you fell over on something reasonably comfortable to fall over upon. ;-)

And I hope you fell over on something reasonably comfortable to fall over upon.

There was fortunately a bed in the way.

There was fortunately a bed in the way.

That's good. And hopefully it wasn't a flower bed? ;-)

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We're all mad here

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