As I’ve told you far too many times, I’ve attended every Readercon since since the first in 1987. So when I share that this Readercon was … different … you can believe me.

The important difference? Twitter.

Suddenly, there was a second Readercon occurring below the surface of the regular one. Dozens of people (I haven’t done a census, but—50? 60?) issued thousands of tweets at the con, noting what was seen in the hallways and reporting on what was said on stage. But it was more than just journalistic; it was engaged. There was agreement, disagreement, even conversation among Twitterers.

At Readercons past, I always regretted not being able to split into multiple me’s so that I could attend more than one panel at the same time. This year, I could, able to sit in one room and follow what was happening in the room next door. I was at both a meat and a virtual convention. This may not be the future we dreamed about, but it’s certainly exciting in its own way.

I was late to Twitter, only starting early this year, and have so far attended three cons while using it—Balticon, HWA’s Stoker Awards, and now Readercon. I believe that it has forever changed the way I’ll attend conventions.

Last night, in a dinner held by the Readercon committee, I pulled out my iPhone and showed the organizers this underground con, which none of them was aware of. And now I’m going to share it with you.

Here are my 10 favorite tweets from Readercon. (Though I’ll admit I haven’t read every one of the many thousands, so if I missed your brilliant 140-character nugget, please forgive me!)

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There’s a Saturday and Sunday of Readercon yet to report on, but it ain’t gonna happen tonight. I was on the run from 8:30 a.m. through 11:30 p.m., taking the stage to pontificate, watching others do the same, breaking bread, hanging with friends by the pool, partying, hiking through a deserted parking lot, closing down the bar, and more. I’d love to tell you about it all, but unlike yesterday’s tongue-in-cheek apology, tonight’s apology is a real one. Right now, I have nothing more to give.

So here’s one photograph to stand in for the joy of the past 48 hours of Readercon. Until I recover, it will have to do.

The following photo was taken at a dinner thrown by the committee, a meal which included those who worked so hard over the years, plus the former Guests of Honor who still remained, as well as some of the loyalists.

John Clute, Michael Bishop, Barry Malzberg, Eric Van and Bob Colby are standing, while I’m on my knees along with Paul Di Filippo. You can find the 79 photos I’ve added to flickr so far here.

See how happy we are? Why, that Barry Malzberg fellow is almost smiling!

I mentioned in my previous post that on Friday, I read from my unpublished short story “What Will Come After,” which won’t be out until March 2010 in my zombie collection from PS Publishing. When I give readings, I prefer using stories as yet unpublished, because I figure that gives those who take the trouble to show up for a reading, who I presume are there because they’re already familiar with my work, something guaranteed to be new to them.

Friday night at Readercon’s Meet the Pros(e) party, however, 30 people got to read that story. Or at least the first sentence. That’s because I contributed those opening words to the annual event.

For those who don’t know how Meet the Pros(e) works, each attending professional is asked to provide a sentence from his or her work, and that sentence is then printed on a sheet of Avery mailing labels. All attendees to the party are then given a sheet of wax paper, and set forth to mingle, asking each writer for a label. It’s a great idea, because it gives even the shyest member of the con a reason to walk up to any writer, however imposing, without fear.

Here’s what was printed on my label, the opening sentence of “What Will Come After”:

I am already aware of certain events surrounding my upcoming death — which, if I’m reading the signs correctly, is not that far off — as surely as if they’d already occurred and I am merely remembering them.

I’m afraid I didn’t mingle as much as I should have, getting caught up in too many interesting conversations (as with Eileen Gunn, above) to remember to play the game. But I did collect 17 of them, which I dutifully share with you here: (more…)

I had hoped to provide a detailed write-up of my Friday at Readercon 20, but that proves to be impossible. I was on the go constantly from the moment I woke at 6:00 a.m., not crashing until 1:00 a.m. this morning, which meant that the day was so filled with incident that any report would take so much time to write that I would not get to have a Saturday at Readercon and would fill so many screens that you’d never read it anyway.

Also, to be fully detailed, it would have to be a historical document published after the con, thus violating what I call Edelman’s Schadenfreude Rule of Convention Reporting—it mustn’t be done later, when any journalism would be considered historical, but instead while the con is still going on. Because it’s not enough that those of us here be having a good time, others must know we’re having a good time and be absolutely miserable that they’re not here with us. They have to be tempted to hop in a car, or to catch a plane, and join the party, and be crestfallen when they can’t. Schadenfreude can be a wonderful thing.

And so, I will limit myself to the following list of my 10 favorite things that happened during my Friday at Readercon:

1) Showing off my ego: I took part in the 11:00 a.m. panel “Egocentrism and Creativity,” during which James Patrick Kelly moderated me, Gene Wolfe, Catherynne Valente, Eileen Gunn, and Gene Wolfe. Not only did we not have to hide our lights under bushels, we were encouraged to be as egotistical as possible, and to explain how that facet of our personalities helped us survive. We were asked to share the most egotistical things we’d ever done in our careers, as well as the most egotistical thing we’d done recently. It was a heck of a lot of fun, and I think we killed (he wrote egotistically).

2) Pinning Jeff Ford:: Jeff and I started the tradition a while back of having lunch together at all cons we’re both attending, and we continued that this year. This lunch was different, however, in that I was able to bring him something special—the Nebula certificate and pin I accepted for him while out at this year’s Nebula Awards weekend. I’ll skip the fact that I should have mailed it to him several months ago so that I look diligent instead of lackadaisical. (Oops, too late!) Catching up with Jeff, a fun guy and a brilliant writer, is always a privilege. (more…)

Because it was already 6:00 p.m. by the time the members of our caravan were checking into our rooms, and the first programming items were to begin at 8:00, we immediately dove into dinner. Paul, Deb and I joined Diane Martin, David Shaw, their child Miles (check out the cute trio below), plus Kit and Joe Reed for a wonderful meal.

The conversation was lively—lots of talk of how the first Readercon came to be in 1987, plus nods to fallen comrade Bob Ingria—and the food was great. We’d all complained the year the restaurant was closed (was that two Readercons ago?), but the food has been much better since its reopening. Especially the tower of duck David and I split! (Though, yes, it’s more pricey, too. But the trade-off seems worth it to me, particularly since there’s so much great stuff happening at Readercon that it’s difficult to make a case for venturing out.)

The first panel I attended was “Writers Who Review,” and it featured an all-star line-up—Michael Bishop, Paul Di Filippo, Liz Hand, Barry Malzberg, Howard Waldrop, and Gene Wolfe. I never tire of hearing Barry Malzberg quote from his worst review ever: “Avon calls this a brilliant new novel, thereby making three mistakes in three words.” Michael Dirda asked Gene Wolfe whether he’d ever learned anything from a review, and Wolfe replied: “All I can say is … no.” The audience roared. (more…)

I woke up yesterday at 3:00 a.m., and my head didn’t hit the pillow again until 12:40 a.m. Here’s a little bit of what happened in between.

I left the house in West Virginia, heading for BWI Airport, by 4:00 a.m. I was alone, but as it turned out, I was not without friends. Tuning to the local NPR station as I drove, I listened to the BBC, because that’s what airs on that station so early in the morning. Suddenly, I heard a friend of mine being introduced—writer and critic Kim Newman, whom I first met (if my memory is functioning the morning after my first day of Readercon) at a World Horror Con in the early ’90s. He was brought on to discuss Bruno, which he didn’t seem to like much, though he was impressed by the hours of work necessary to get each of the tiny clips which made it up. Hearing his voice, I felt as if Readercon had already begun!

That wasn’t the first time that had happened. I was once driving back from a Springfield Boskone to Framingham (when I lived there in the mid-’80s) and had Ted Klein unexpectedly and serendipitously accompanying me for a full hour on the radio.

I arrived in Providence at 8:50, where I was met by Paul Di Filippo, just as I’ve been each year for at least a decade, ever since I decided to fly there instead of to Boston for Readercon, plus Michael Bishop. Mike and his wife Jeri have been staying with Paul and Deb Newton for several days of touring before the con. We headed back to the Di Filippo/Newton manse, where we admired the book collection, discussing some of our favorites, including a novel which had made an early impression on Mike, We All Died at Breakaway Station by Richard C. Meredith, whom we hadn’t realized had died so young. (more…)

It’s been a long, long day, because my journey to Readercon began at 3:00 a.m., when for some reason I woke up half an hour before the alarm had been set to go off. I didn’t mind it that much, not then, because it allowed for a more leisurely escape, but believe me, I’m minding it now, as I’m way past ready to crash.

I’m much too exhausted to fill you in on any details of the trip so far, so I’ll simply leave you with this photo of me, Michael Dirda, Michael Bishop, Paul Di Filippo, and Howard Waldrop pausing to worship at Lovecraft’s grave as we head, along with the unseen Deborah Newton and Jeri Bishop, from Paul and Deb’s Providence home to the Burlington Marriott for the 20th Readercon.

You’ll have to wait until tomorrow for anything more detailed than that, and just be happy with this image, and with a few others over at flickr.

Until tomorrow, then …

Over at the wonderful ’80s comics site Blinded Me With Comics—which is a companion site to the great ’70s comics site Diversion of the Groovy Kind—a recent post highlighted Captain’s America’s run for the presidency.

This all took place back in a 1980 story arc by writer Roger Stern and artist John Byrne, though the post also reprinted the letters page from Captain America #250 in order to give credit to the two guys who first suggested that concept—Roger McKenzie and Don Perlin. (more…)

Happy birthday, John!

John Byrne and I met more than a third of a century ago, back when we were both just fans, before I’d started on staff at Marvel Comics. And since it’s traditional to embarrass old friends on their birthdays, here’s a blast from the past even he may have forgotten about! I know I almost had.

John’s first professional comic-book art was published in the Skywald black-and-white horror magazine Nightmare #20 (August 1974), just about the time I started in the Marvel Bullpen. My own first professional comic-book script appeared about a year later, in Dead of Night #11 (Aug 1975). It was the first story about the Scarecrow, which Marvel seems to be calling the Straw Man these days.

The character had gone through many incarnations before it saw print, incarnations which John had known about and, as you’ll see, even participated in. In May 1975, I received a fan letter from him in which he wrote—

Just got the first issue of SCARECROW (D. O. N. #11). Love it! Really tremendous. And I much prefer this version to my pumpkin rendition.

Enclosed is a subtle hint.

The letter was accompanied by the sketch you see below.

Now you might think as you read that note—what pumpkin version? And you know something … I was just thinking along those lines myself. (more…)

I discovered a wonderful site yesterday—The Marvel Comics Bullpen Bulletins Index, which reprints those gossipy pages which took us all behind the scenes at Marvel and enthralled me when I was a kid … and which I was eventually privileged to write!

You can see my first one, which appeared in all April 1975 Marvel Comics titles, here. (I was responsible for everything but Stan’s Soapbox, which he dutifully banged out himself each month.)

I can still remember sitting in the Bullpen typing away, and then going into Len’s office and reading it aloud to Len, my future wife Irene Vartanoff, and others, and how proud I was when they laughed as I read and then told me I’d nailed the voice.

But that’s not the Bullpen Bulletins page which I found the most interesting, at least not today. The one which just caught my attention came out the month before, in the March run of books. It included the first mention of me in a Bullpen Bulletins page, on the occasion of me making the move from my position as Associate Editor of Marvel’s British reprints to Assistant Editor on the U.S. titles. (more…)