Con Reports

A-Kon 19 - Dallas, TX

What, you may be asking, is a writer and editor of fantasy and science fiction prose doing guesting at a convention primarily geared to Japanese anime? Which is what A-Kon is, to the tune of between 15,000 - 16,000 attendees, several hundred guests that include artists, animators, musicians, voice actors, and other anime professionals, many from Japan. Long story, but it basically boils down to there being a significant and robust “traditional” sf&f writers’ track. Of which I’m been a part for most of the last ten years or so..

Thursday, May 29 - Four Husky Guys And...

My day began early – in the pre-dawn hours – with me scrambling around doing last-minute packing and getting ready to be hauled to deepest, darkest downtown Dallas. Specifically the Sheraton-Formerly-Known-As-The-Adam’s-Mark Hotel, Ground Zero for the upcoming festivities. Around 11:30am, two vans arrived, with a total of four husky lads, and in short order my wheelchair and luggage had been popped into one of them and I’d been handed into the other for the trip downtown. Things went very smoothly, and in short order I was checked in, unpacked, and headed out again to touch base with Con HQ.

Con Ops first, to say hello to Laura and the crew, and pick up a radio. (It’s been common practice to hook me into the con communications net, and over the years, it’s been immensely helpful.) Then around the corner to Guest Relations, overseen by GR Goddess Yolanda, who works miracles on a regular basis and had badges, back-of-house-passes, and program all ready for me.

About the program. I’d had verbal warning that mine was going to be a busy schedule, but this was the first I’d gotten an actual look at the where and what of this year’s definition of “busy” involved. Thirteen program items over the course of three days, with me moderating most of them. I had visions of my limp body being found slumped in a corner on Sunday, my brain oozing out my left ear. But on the triple-plus side, all but one of the items was in the same room, the program topics were uniformly choice, and the folks I’d be paneling with were top-notch professionals who were also great fun to work with. Add to that a multi-tiered support system, and I was fairly sure I’d be able to hit my marks, give good panel, and enjoy the hell out of doing so.

Thus armed, I headed over to the convention center to refresh my memory on the lay-out of the place, stopping by Con Security headquarters to touch base on procedures. Then it was off to the Dealer Room, where set-up was going on at a furious pace. It was there I got a very pleasant surprise; I ran into Daniel Erickson of Xcentricities, purveyors of the finest custom-crafted corsets I’ve ever seen or been lashed into. It had been several years since we’d crossed paths, I’d no idea he was going to be there, and we spent time catching up. (We also determined we’d known each other for – yegoddesses – fourteen years, which paled in shock value to seeing the oldest boy. He’d been about should-high on me when last I’d seen him; he now towers above us all, and has grown into a fuzzy, handsome young man. I’m getting old.) There was even opportunity to say hello to Ynharad, Daniel’s lovely lady wife, when she called Daniel.) I was looking forward to getting back to the Dealer Room and either commissioning and getting measured for one of their custom pieces, or dropping immediate coin on a cincher – gorgeous and much needed back support – sometime during the convention. To my great regret, the time to do so just never materialized. Maybe at WorldCon.

I was out front of the hotel, having a cigarette and people-watching, when both Jana Oliver and my friend Heidi Berthiaume arrived, and it was nice to be able to greet them. That’s also where I hooked up with Jamie Boughen, A-Kon’s Project Manager, who took me on the back-of-house tour charting out routes to various locales I was going to need during the weekend. We later met for our traditional Thursday-night-before-all-hell-breaks-loose get-together for dinner in the hotel’s restaurant. The food was excellent, and it was nice to relax a bit in quiet company before things took off at full gallop.

I turned in reasonably early, knowing what madness lay ahead, after calling George and filling him in on the following day’s logistics.

Friday, May 30 - Wheelchair In High Gear

Things got off to a fine and early start with me waking up before the alarm went off at 4:30am and having a couple of cups of good in-room coffee while I ramped my pulse up to sustainable levels. The shower wasn’t the worst I’ve encountered, but it was pretty evident that some of the multi-million dollar renovation planned should involve the plumbing. On the plus side, the bathroom light was near-perfect for doing make-up. I was well-put together when I rolled out of the room at 9:30am.

First stop: A-Kon’s legendary Green Room. Jen and Company had been encouraging me to drop in more often – in previous years, I’ve been lucky to get there even once during the weekend – and this was the year it looked like I’d be able to. More to the point, this was the year these lovely folk were going to be instrumental in keeping me alive. And it was evident, from my first visit, they were happy to do so. Many blessings upon their heads. I wrapped myself around a lovely cup of premium coffee and a tasty danish, and, at their suggestion, tucked a banana into my messenger bag as an emergency back-up to missing meals. A quick trip into Con Ops for a fresh battery for the radio, another to Guest Relations to confirm the plans for getting George and the Cripmobile into the garage that evening, and then I headed over to the convention center for the day’s first round of panels. Five panels in six hours.

First up: “The Ideas Generator”, with me tossing out the questions as moderator and answering them along with Tom Knowles and Doug Niles. Tom I’ve known forever and always enjoy working with. This was my first time meeting Doug, and he very rapidly hit my list of “anytime, any topic” co-panelists. He’s funny, knowledgeable, and just plain nice to work with. The panel was based on that most oft-heard question, “Where do you get your ideas”, and for an hour, we talked about our various ways of getting them, finding them when nothing comes up easily, and beating down the ones that we just know are bad from the get-go. A fun hour, and for a first panel of the convention, surprisingly well-populated by audience.

That was immediately followed by “Writing Life Habits”, again with me moderating and being joined by David Drake and Jana Oliver. Even more audience, with the hour moving along quickly with discussion of how each of us worked: mornings vs. afternoons, office vs. camped on the veranda, and suchlike. We generally agreed that the best habit to get into is “butt in chair, every day”, and “a writer may have a setting s/he prefers, but when push comes to shove, a writer writes anywhere and everywhere.”

I had an hour before the next panel and put it to fast-moving use. Hit the the Brassiere, where I snagged a slice of high-quality pizza about the size of three New England states. I found a corner, out of traffic, parked with my back to the wall, and watched the flow of humanity while munching. By the time I’d consumed a bit less than half of that gargantuan slice, I was full, so I tucked it back into its handy to-go box and slipped the box into my messenger bag before heading back to work.

For the next two hours, it was the “Tom & Lee Show”, and a very fine time was had. Actually, it was two separate panels, “Writers’ Block, Real or Imagined” and “Writing Short”, both of which boasted nearly capacity audiences. And you’d have thought Tom and I had been doing this act for years, so smoothly did things move along. Good questions and comments from the audience, too, which is always a major plus.

The last of three panels in a row was “But I’m A Very SPECIAL Snowflake”, another one I was moderating, joined by Bill Fawcett, Doug Niles, and – bless her for screaming in from work about halfway through, Melanie Fletcher. The topic was handling rejections, with a side trip to the art of rejectomancy, aka trying to figure out what the editor or publisher means by various phrases in the rejection letter. Another lively panel imparting tons of good info to the full-capacity audience.

There was now a four-hour break in my schedule, and I had plans for it, ohboyhowdyyoubetcha. To my room to freshen up a bit, get my feet up for a while, and have a cigarette before visiting the Green Room to grab a bit to eat. Then relax a bit more before time to coordinate George’s arrival with the Cripmobile, get him his room key and badge, and head in for my reading. Except....

I got to my room to find the lock had, for reasons unknown, been rekeyed and both my key and the one that would be George’s didn’t work. So I headed down to the lobby, which was now a sea of con-goers. The line for the front desk was at least four hundred people long – getting that room key problem straightened out was going to take into the wee hours of the morning – and my bladder was demanding immediate attention. Off to find the ladies’ room, then outside for a cigarette and resorting to one of the reasons they hang a radio on me. I called Con Ops and reported the problem with the key and where I was. I was told to stay put; they’d take care of getting new keys to me. Twenty minutes later, I called back to report that I was still keyless. It was relayed to me that Laura had steam wafting from her ears and was getting the bigger baseball bat out. Resolution to problem *would* be imminent. It was. A very nice hotel staffer named Kim, who was working as the direct link between Con and hotel, came out within a couple of minutes with two keys and many apologies.

Once back in my room, I achieved the refresh myself and feet-up portion of the exercise, but a trip to the Green Room didn’t seem practical, what with George soon to be en route. So that second half of the pizza slice, cold but still wonderfully tasty and filling, served as supper. I was just finishing it when George called to tell me he had the hotel in sight. I headed for Guest Relations, where Gypsy was on duty, and we hit a slight snag. The gentleman whose vehicle was reserving the spot they’d tagged for George was over at the Westin in the middle of dinner. Plan B was immediately formulated, wherein Gypsy put someone else on the desk and headed over to the parking structure, and went with George up to where a number of parking spots had been assigned to the convention. George slid into one and met me at the garage entrance, where I got him badged and keyed.

It was almost time for my last scheduled item of the day, my reading, so instead of going to the room, George came along and sat through the reading. Audience was, as expected, small, but responsive and included someone we hadn’t seen in ages, Helen from the SCA. She’d never heard me read, and seemed to enjoy the offerings. And it was fun catching up.

George and I went up to the room, then he went back down to get his suitcase while I got out of make-up. He came back laughing his head off. While getting the bag out of the side door, a slender blond lady pounced on him, telling him that he’d have to move his vehicle, as the spots were reserved for the convention and clearly marked as such. She apparently thought he belonged to a car that was parked, badly, in the next slot. He began to explain that one of the con staff had put him there, and that he and the white van he was pulling a suitcase from belonged to one of the guests. The lady suddenly looked at the van, and the wheelchair lift visible through the back window, and said, “Ohmygod, that’s the Cripmobile,” before apologizing profusely and blushing clear to her toenails. When he described the lady, I started laughing, too. I was pretty sure I knew who it was.

Day One of the con survived, and I was in bed and dead to the world very shortly thereafter.

Saturday, May 31 - No, My Totem Is NOT The Energizer Bunny

I’d planned to get up early, but not quite as early as 4:18am. I’d also planned to be awakened by an alarm clock, not the blaring of the hotel fire alarm. On went the light, on went the radio. This is another reason they hang a radio on me; I learned quickly that it was a false alarm. So I was awake and up when the second false alarm sounded a few minutes later. And thinking pleasing thoughts about turning prankster into prankster filets.

So it was that we were up and mobile earlier than expected, went to Con Ops to swap batteries, and dropped in at Guest Relations to tease Yolanda. “I hear you harassed my husband last night,” was how I opened that particular conversation, in reply to which she ducked under the table. I assured her that no harm was done, and she gave us both the best giggle of the day.

We still ended up being at the Green Room door before they were officially open. Jen and Company, who arrived as we were heading for the back-of-house elevator, wouldn’t hear of letting us go without getting coffee into us, and started the coffee pot immediately. So it was that I scored a cup of that premium coffee again, and headed off for the day’s activities in very fine form and blessing the Green Room Crew once again. George, in the meantime, headed over to Writers’ Row – and my table thereon – with my books, CDs, and jewelry. First time for setting up the table, since I hadn’t gotten anywhere close to the place the day before.

My first panel of the day was one we thought might be a trifle controversial, given the youth and fanfic culture of many of the con’s attendees. So I had moderator duties again, being joined by Jana Oliver, Tom Knowles, Doug Niles, and Karen Zimmerman, with David Drake chiming in with salient points from the audience on “What Do You Mean I Can’t Use It?”. One of the best panels I’ve done to date, with the flow of discussion moving like lightning and the chemistry of the panelists near-magic. And once again, we had near-capacity audience. That was immediately followed by “Collaborative Writing”, where I had the pleasure of working with the legendary Peter Beagle. I’ve worked with him before, most enjoyably, and with the addition of Doug Niles, we did have fun.

I had a three hour break, so I headed down to Writers’ Row. Took me a while to find my table, but when I did, I heartily approved George’s excellent set-up and the placement of the Row nearish the back and set for prime traffic flow. George had already sold a necklace and talked to several folks interested in other necklaces and books. Go, George! I manned the table while he went off to secure lunch for us. I talked to people, autographed program books, and chatted with Jennie Breeden of “The Devil’s Panties” and “Men In Kilts With Leafblowers” fame, whom I’d met at StellarCon. In due course, lunch arrived, and I munched and talked to fans before heading back up for my last panel of the day.

“Do I Really Sound Like That?”, moderated by Melanie Fletcher, with Tom Knowles and me, was a fine discussion of writing dialects and voices in ways that don’t make the reader go blind or want to throw the book across the room. We’ve all written multiple dialects and distinctive character voices, and the discussion was full of useful info and fun anecdotes. Again, a full house and good questions from the audience.

Then it was back to the table, where George had sold yet another necklace and assorted books and CDs. Obviously, he’s good for business, something I *will* keep in mind. We hung around for a while before packing up the table and hauling things back to the room. I got out of make-up and changed into something comfy, got my feet up, and promptly dozed off.

Which is why I was asleep when Jamie, followed shortly by Jana, arrived for the annual meeting of the Mature Distilled Celtic Beverage and Fine Cigar Society, aka kicking back on a Saturday night at A-Kon with friends. The four of us lounged and indulged in Irish whiskey (me) and single-malt (the rest of them) that we’d brought, and lovely little cigars that Jamie contributed to the evening while talking business and what’s been happening in our lives. A relaxing, enjoyable evening, highly restorative and much fun. I kicked everyone but George out a bit after 11:00pm and slept very well.

Sunday, June 1 - In The Home Stretch

Woke up without benefit of false fire alarm, and got ready for the day, including getting the room packed up for hauling out. The con had arranged a 6pm check-out, which was going to work well with the schedule I had. The trip up to the Green Room scored the kind of breakfast I sorely needed at that point - egg and toast plus coffee – which put me in good stead for the day. Then George headed over to set up the table and I headed for Con Ops. I was just headed out when George called, saying that Elaine, who was handling the “Banquet With The Stars”, had a problem and was looking for me rather urgently. No, I wasn’t signed up for the banquet, I was planning on spending a couple of hours at the table before my panels started, but I told him to tell her I was on the way

It was at this point that I learned something interesting about the Sheraton: the back-of-house elevators lock down when the fire alarm goes off. I was in one at the time. Fortunately, it opened onto a little cul-de-sac with two door and nothing else. One door led outside, did not have a ramp, and wasn’t going to do me much good. The other opened – halleluia! – onto the end of one of the first-floor niches. I could get to where I need to be from where I ended up.

The idea behind “Banquet With The Stars” is a Sunday morning brunch where attendees sign up to sit at tables hosted by various of the convention guests. One of the guests, voice actor Chris Patton, had been called away for a most excellent reason – rehearsal for a paying gig – and Elaine was desperate for someone to host his table. She thought of me. While I wasn’t at all sure this would work, since these folks had apparently signed up to sit with an anime voice actor and I wasn’t one, I was willing to give it a shot. As it turned out, about half of those at the table had been attending the writers’ panels, and most of the others were related to or friends with a young lady who’d been in the A-Kon writers’ workshop I’d run a few years at the beginning of the Writers’ track. So they ate and we chatted, and it seemed to turn out well. I slipped out when the presentations began, explaining to them that I had panels coming up soon.

Which I did...four panels back to back. I checked on George – he was doing fine – and confirmed that he’d pack up the table about 3pm and load out the room to the van while I was paneling, Then I hit the ladies’ room and grabbed a cigarette before starting the marathon.

First up, “Killer First Lines”, with me tossing out the leading questions and Melanie Fletcher and Peter Beagle sharing some of their favorites while stressing the importance of grabbing the reader right off the bat. A fun one in all regards. That was followed by “The Tax Man Cometh: Practical Suggestions For The Business of Writing”, Jana Oliver riding herd on Tom Knowles, Doug Niles and me talking mundane issues like record-keeping and staying out of trouble with the IRS and its state and local equivalents.

Doug slipped out, Melanie slipped in and took the moderator’s slot, and we moved from there to “In The Beginning”, wherein we talked about how we got started writing professionally and where the paths had taken us. And then we swapped out Tom for David Drake, acquired P.N Elrod as an unscheduled panelist, I got tossed the moderator’s club, and we rolled into the last panel of the convention, “There’s A Sucker Born Every Minute”. Scams and scum bent on separating innocent and/or desperate writers from their money, and it was lively. Yog’s Law was invoked: “Money flows TO the writer” and – hopefully – chiseled into their minds.

And it was a wrap. We’d done it. The con was ended, go in peace. Or pieces, given the schedules we’d had.

I met George in the hotel lobby, and we scooted up to the now bare room for a last check and a last pass at the bathroom. And found that the room wasn’t quite bare; he’d somehow missed the room supply tub. Doesn’t happen often that he forgets something. So he packed that out, I did a final sweep, and then went downstairs to get us checked out.

Dinner plans – and I was starving by this point – called for Heidi, Jana, George, and I to get together, which we did at P.F. Chang’s. My first time there, and I highly approved. Upscale Chinese fusion, amazingly reasonable in price. A very fine ending to the festivities.

A good convention. Superb programming. All praise and much gratitude to the A-Kon staff for spoiling me rotten and taking good enough care of me that I actually managed to survive that schedule. A week later, I’m still exhausted and still smiling.

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