It’s been two weeks since Capclave, which means I’m violating Edelman’s First Rule of Convention Reporting by waiting this long to tell you about my experience. You remember the rule, don’t you? It’s that all convention reporting has to take place while a con is still happening, not merely after the fact, because it’s not enough that I be having a wonderful time—you’ve got to know that I’m having a wonderful time and be grumbling because you’re not with me having a wonderful time, too.

But bandwidth around here being what it is, I had to wait until the following weekend while I was traveling to upload my Capclave videos, and then we had friends visiting this week who only just left, which means it’s a rule that in this instance had to be broken.

Anyway, here’s what the weekend of October 10th through the 12th was like for me …

On Friday, my first panel was at 4:00 p.m.—”The League of Substitute Heroes and the Inferior Five”—during which we were to talk about the B- and C-level superheroes we loved, and I arrived about a half an hour before it was to begin. The ones I reminisced about the most were The Prankster, a one-shot back-up feature from Charlton with overtones of Harlan Ellison’s “”Repent, Harlequin!” Said the Ticktockman,” and Brother Power the Geek, about a mannequin brought to life and given superpowers after being struck by lighting, who then lives among hippies. But I also talked up Matter-Eater Lad as well, a hero after my gastronomic heart.

My next panel wasn’t to be until 9:00 p.m.—”Ending Stories – Bang or Whimper?”—and you’d think that would leave me enough time for dinner. But instead, dinner didn’t leave me enough time for my panel! I went with friends to a nearby restaurant where the service was so slow that a meal which should have taken less than two hours took more than three. And since I was a passenger for this outing, rather than a driver, it meant I didn’t arrive back at Capclave until 15 minutes before that panel was to end. Thanks to Twitter, I was able to send out an alert using the Capclave hashtag that I wouldn’t be joining the panel, but still, I felt bad. I guess I learned my lesson—no more dinners at the Golden Bull on Friday nights!

My final panel that day was at 11:00 p.m.—”Why Do We Like Being Scared?” (And no, it’s not the latest panel I’ve ever done. Sometimes I’ve pontificated past midnight.) There was much talk of zombies. I also put out there that it might be my luck in having had a happy, untraumatized childhood which allows for me to be scared without being triggered. It’s a privilege I’ll have to consider in more depth later.

A little past midnight, I headed home. I rarely stay overnight at local cons such as Capclave and Balticon, preferring to pay for hotels only when the event isn’t drivable, even though that can lead to commutes of anywhere from 90 minutes to two hours. So I arrived home around two in the morning, and then by 10:30 a.m. Saturday, I was back on the road again …

My Capclave Saturday started with lunch with Andy and Sydney Duncan, followed by schmoozing in the dealers room, after which I attended the 3:00 p.m. panel “Rules? Rules? There are no Rules!,” which featured Lawrence Watt-Evans, Alma Katsu, Paolo Bacigalupi, Walter H. Hunt, James Morrow and Lawrence M. Schoen. As a constant rule-breaker myself, I was very interested in seeing what the panelists felt about the matter. And if you’re interested, too, you can see the panel even if you never made it to Capclave, because I captured it below.

Please forgive the fact that the video is broken into two parts. I was recording using my iPhone, and when a call came in midway through, it disrupted the recording. I quickly started up again, but about 15 seconds have been lost.

A fascinating panel. And if you’re wondering where I fall in all of this, well … Jim Morrow was basically speaking for me.

Immediately following that panel, I rushed over to hear Andy Duncan read much of a story from his upcoming collection … and you can, too!

At 5:00 p.m., I attended “I Hate His/Her Politics But I Love His/Her Books,” which ended up focusing mostly on Orson Scott Card and Harlan Ellison. I was surprised that no mention was made of the current H. P. Lovecraft brouhaha. I was also surprised to hear David Hartwell state from the stage that though the Ender’s Game movie may have tanked, last year alone, the book sold 1.7 million copies. (Yes! 1.7 million copies!)

After that, I hurried to hear Jamie Todd Rubin read his latest SFnal baseball story … or parts of it anyway.

After that, it was off to the traditional mass signing, followed by a 9:00 p.m. dinner of pig face at Range which I already told you about. (What does it say about me that I reported on that meal before the con itself? Never mind. I know what it says about me … )

As a result of that dinner, I didn’t get home and to bed until after 3:00 in the morning. Luckily, my Sunday reading wasn’t scheduled until 1:30 p.m., which meant that I could sleep in (sort of), but more importantly, it meant I had time to pick up … durian!

Why bring a fruit banned in many foreign hotels and subways to Capclave? Well, I’ve done it before, and there was a request I do it again. So I did!

First came my reading, though, where I shared the story “And the Trees Were Happy,” which will appear in the upcoming anthology Genius Loci.

I didn’t bother recording it that day, but if you’d like to watch me read it, you can check out video of me from this year’s Readercon.

After that, it was time to share some durian, which I’d been tweeting all weekend would occur that afternoon. I carried one of the two I’d purchased through the lobby and con suite to make sure all knew what was about to occur …

… and then headed to the parking lot, where my Jeep was filled with a machete, water, cups … and breath mints. Because no one want durian breath for the rest of the day, right?

Around a dozen Caplavers joined me to watch as I risked my fingers to hack and slash at a durian with that machete, and then take part in the ritual tasting. The year’s specimen was mild, without the offensive odor we all expected. Still, someone who shall go unnamed remained locked in his car until we were done and all the trash was carted away.

And so ended my Capclave!

I’m sure there’s plenty I’ve forgotten—after all, so much of any convention is spent in the bar and hallways having serendipitous encounters—but after two weeks, this is all that comes to mind now that I’ve stopped traveling and peace and quiet has settled around the house. Regardless, as you can tell, fun was had.

Let’s do it again next year!