It is a little impressive that a virtual con is exhausting me as much as the usual kind in person with all the running around hotels and swearing at the T, but I suspect that's the Zoom. Nonetheless, the chantey sing was as rousing as it is possible for a song circle to be when the response part of the call-and-response has to be muted because of internet latency—I contributed "Randy Dandy-O" and "Haul on the Bowline" and "The Wellerman" made its inevitable and not unwelcome appearance—and the reading was a delight, especially works in progress by Gillian Daniels and Ruthanna Emrys; I am an unsurprising fan of waterlogged Boston and houses that are less haunted than aware. Tomorrow I talk about leadership in fantasy and science fiction and then I do not actually collapse because some other things need to be done, but it will be the end of my first full virtual convention. I am having a lovely time with it and I hope dearly it will be safe to run around hotels next year. It's saving me a fortune, but I miss the dealer's room.
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- 1: And they won't thank you, they don't make awards for that
- 2: But the soft and lovely silvers are now falling on my shoulder
- 3: What does it do when we're asleep?
- 4: Now where did you get that from, John le Carré?
- 5: Put your circuits in the sea
- 6: Sure as the morning light when frigid love and fallen doves take flight
- 7: No one who can stand staying landlocked for longer than a month at most
- 8: And in the end they might even thank me with a garden in my name
- 9: I'd marry her this minute if she only would agree
- 10: And me? Well, I'm just the narrator
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