Here’s where you’ll be able to find me next month in Montreal at Anticipation, the 67th World Science Fiction Convention.

I don’t know which I’m looking forward to more—the programming or the smoked meat!

The Year in Novels
Thursday, August 6
2:00 p.m.-3:00 pm. (Room P-516D)
with Jo Walton, Kevin J. Maroney
Our panel of experts tell you about the must-reads of the year.

Scanning for Life
Thursday, August 6
3:30 p.m.-5:00 p.m. (Room P-518A)
with Janice Cullum Hodghead (moderator), Mark Olson, Sonya Taaffe
In the fifth edition of Anatomy of Wonder, Neil Barron said that the book would not cover SF poetry because it is “a relatively minor and very specialized field that, in my judgment, has never produced major works.” Is that fair? If not, what are the major canonical works?

How to Respond to a Critique of your Writing
Thursday, August 6
5:00 PM-6:00 p.m. (Room P-511A)
If you’ve never been in a critique setting it’s intimidating. Scott Edelman tells you how not to get “down” when your work is being put down. A veteran of workshops, rejections and Clarion, an editor and writer himself, Scott gives a talk to new writers about how to respond to criticism of their work. This talk is especially recommended for people contemplating a residence workshop or people scheduled for the small session workshops at Worldcon that begin on Friday.

SF in Comics
Thursday, August 6
7:00 p.m.-8:00 p.m. (Room P-522B)
I moderate Anne ANGE Guéro, Tom Stidman, and Claude Lalumière
A discussion of the long marriage of the genre and the medium, from Buck Rogers to Nexus—perhaps with an emphasis on the intersecting contributions of Ray Bradbury. (more…)

I dreamt of my father again last night, the third or fourth time I’ve done so since he died in January. In the dream, he was alive again, and while not young, he was in his late ’50s or early ’60s, as opposed to his mid-’70s, looking sort of like he did in this photo.

I was visiting him in the living room of a house or apartment, only it wasn’t a place where he and my mother had ever lived in real life. I was showing him something online, and the site we were looking at wasn’t appearing on a desktop, laptop, or iPhone—the screen was being projected, taller than a person, on the wall of the room in which we spoke. And as I showed him various sites, he became concerned that I was downloading too many megabytes, that it would be too expensive.

He got up and leaned against the wall, scrolling through the pages by dragging his hands up and down quickly, making them whiz by, saying that this would all be too expensive for his internet provider. He worried about the cost of all the pages I was showing him. I wish I could remember exactly what sites it was I was trying to visit with him, but I can’t.

I expressed shock that his internet provider was so tight with the megabytes, and promised to find him a better one. I woke as we discussed this.

I’m thinking that perhaps I had this dream because of Charlie Brown, and the appreciation I wrote for him yesterday at Sci Fi Wire. While I was writing it, which wasn’t easy, something popped into my head and I thought, “Oh, I’ve got to to tell Dad about that,” then remembered, “Oh … that’s right … I can’t.”

So Dad was already in my mind yesterday more than he is during a typical day, perhaps sparking the dream. Whatever the reason, it was nice to see him again.

I’m still too stunned by the news of the death of Charles N. Brown, with whom I and hundreds of others spent time this weekend at Readercon, for coherent thought right now, so any words I have to say about him I’ll share tomorrow. Right now, I’d rather let a few pictures speak.

Charlie and I (along with Jennifer Hall) spent Thanksgiving 2002 in Havana attending a Cuban science fiction convention. Here we are visiting Havana’s Castillo de los Tres Santos Reyes Magnos del Morro and hamming it up during happier times.

(more…)

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!)

(more…)

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 …