Gary K. Wolfe opened his room at the Intercontinental late yesterday afternoon to hold a wake for Charles Brown. And while many moving and tearful things were said by his many friends, which I will leave unreported as I believe that for the most part what happens at a wake should remain at a wake, one comment Gary made stuck with me.

Once the room was filled, he stood on a ledge by the window (inside the glass, of course) to get our attention and begin the proceedings. Some began to shout “Jump! Jump!” … because, as we all know, those of us who gather at Worldcon once each year are three-year-olds at heart.

In response to this, Gary pointed at Ellen Datlow and Gardner Dozois, seated on the edge of the bed, and said:

“The science fiction editor says ‘Don’t jump.’ The horror editor says ‘Jump.’ That’s all you need to know about those genres.”

The more I think about it, the more I like it.

I’ve been too busy at Worldcon to spend much time keeping up here. Even my tweeting has been unusually limited for a con environment, since to avoid insane international roaming charges I’ve been dependent on free wifi, which I’ve only been able to access at the hotel and in the dealers room, and not while watching or participating on any of the panels.

But before throwing myself out into the maelstrom once more—I’ll be attempting to moderate Bob Silverberg, Nancy Kress, James Nelson-Lucas, and Bill Willingham on the 11:00 a.m. panel “What Makes a Good Story?”—I’d like to share one of the more joyous moments I’ve had so far.

I very much wanted to see David Kyle this weekend. He was one of the Futurians, and a co-founder of Gnome Press. Dave was at the first Worldcon, and even at what was supposed to have been the first SF con before the Worldcon, which I believe occurred in 1936 when a group of New York fans drove to meet with some Philadelphia fans in the back of a bar owned my somebody’s father. (Any fan historians out there, feel free to correct me!) A Worldcon isn’t a Worldcon until I catch up with Dave, and I never got a chance to do that last year at Denvention.

I spotted him between panels early yesterday afternoon, rushing along to get to his next panel, with no time to talk. But just seeing him, hale and hearty at 90, bursting with energy as he passed me by and promised we’d get together later, made me happy.

Later, though, I did get to sit with him and chat for half an hour. We talked until I had to meet some friends for dinner and he had to rest a bit before heading out for a night of partying. I would have liked to have hung out with him all night, talking of the old days and the days still to come. Dave’s one of those people I hope to be like when I grow up. If you see him this weekend, be sure to say hello!

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…)

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 …

I wrote here on Sunday morning that I would probably have no further comments to make about the Stoker Awards weekend until enough time had passed that anything I would have to say would be historical, a looking back after my return home rather than something written during the heat of the event.

It turned out that I was wrong.

For after I’d made my goodbyes and headed to the airport to catch my 2:00 p.m. United flight which would end up with me arriving in Dulles slightly after midnight, after I’d twittered that I guessed the gathering of the tribe was over, at least for me, after I bumped into Jeff Strand and Lynne Hansen making their own return trip home and we sat for awhile and talked of past and future cons, I heard an announcement come over the loudspeaker—United was seeking a lone volunteer to yield his or her seat for another passenger in exchange for a coupon good for one round-trip ticket to anywhere United flew within the contiguous United States.

I dashed to the front of the crowd, and said, hey, I’m your man. Why? Well, for one thing, I’ve been going to an awful lot of cons. The Nebulas in April, now the Stokers, next month Readercon, the month after that the Montreal Worldcon, and I’d sort of decided that attending this year’s World Fantasy Convention in San Jose was iffy, especially considering I wanted to save cash for next year’s Worldcon in Melbourne. Before making this Stoker trip, I’d already decided that if offered a chance for a free future flight, I’d take it.

The problem was, my flight was a complicated one, in that I had to get to Denver in time to catch the fight which would bring me home. There weren’t any later Burbank flights which could accomplish that, and if I was bumped, I’d have to spend the night. If you can put me up in the Marriott that’s only a few hundred yards away, I’ll take the deal. And since I turned out to be the only volunteer, they said, no problem. (more…)