Any way you go there's a road to be stronger
I am home from Readercon. I am lying on the couch with Hestia curled up on the nearest cushion, watching that vague after-sunset spectrum you get on clear evenings: stone-pink, sand-gold, apple-green, smoke-blue. I am covered in fur from her attentive brother, who as soon as I sat down on the bed to talk to ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spatch planted himself purringly in my lap and kneaded his many claws in possessive happiness and groomed my hands and my chin and any of the rest of me he could reach, because I had been gone for four days and I smelled like people who were not my cats. I am also slightly covered in curry noodle from dinner at Dakzen with choco_frosh, but their yen ta fo and khao soi were worth it. My last panel of the convention, with the priceless name "Our Bodies, Our Elves: Sexual Awakenings in Epic Fantasy," turned out to be about five panels in the same fifty minutes, but it was fun and kept spinning new questions and I was strongly recommended Cecilia Grant's A Lady Awakened (2011) afterward based on something I had said about wanting to see more value-neutral bad sex in genre fiction, so I guess it's time to revive my het-romance-reading skills.
This was a good convention. I did not see everyone I wanted to see—or as much of everyone as I wanted—but the panels I had worried about went well and I did not burn out on enjoying conversation until the very last hours of this afternoon and people enthused about my forthcoming book, which is just stunning. I bought books and had nice food. I want to sleep for a week and I won't get the chance, but right now I am surrounded by cats (Autolycus has taken up a nearby position) and I am under no obligation to do anything for the rest of tonight. Even make rice pudding, which I had thought of doing, but might disturb the cats.
Forget the Sleepless Shores has its first review on Goodreads. And it's positive.
This is all right.
spatch planted himself purringly in my lap and kneaded his many claws in possessive happiness and groomed my hands and my chin and any of the rest of me he could reach, because I had been gone for four days and I smelled like people who were not my cats. I am also slightly covered in curry noodle from dinner at Dakzen with choco_frosh, but their yen ta fo and khao soi were worth it. My last panel of the convention, with the priceless name "Our Bodies, Our Elves: Sexual Awakenings in Epic Fantasy," turned out to be about five panels in the same fifty minutes, but it was fun and kept spinning new questions and I was strongly recommended Cecilia Grant's A Lady Awakened (2011) afterward based on something I had said about wanting to see more value-neutral bad sex in genre fiction, so I guess it's time to revive my het-romance-reading skills.This was a good convention. I did not see everyone I wanted to see—or as much of everyone as I wanted—but the panels I had worried about went well and I did not burn out on enjoying conversation until the very last hours of this afternoon and people enthused about my forthcoming book, which is just stunning. I bought books and had nice food. I want to sleep for a week and I won't get the chance, but right now I am surrounded by cats (Autolycus has taken up a nearby position) and I am under no obligation to do anything for the rest of tonight. Even make rice pudding, which I had thought of doing, but might disturb the cats.
Forget the Sleepless Shores has its first review on Goodreads. And it's positive.
This is all right.