The second episode of Eating the Fantastic recorded while on a meal break from this year’s Readercon—which occurred the day after my dinner with James Patrick Kelly—was with award-winning science fiction writer John Kessel. We had lunch by the water on a warm sunny day at Bay Pointe Waterfront Restaurant in Quincy, Massachusetts.

Kessel’s latest novel, The Moon and The Other, was released in April from Saga Press, an imprint of Simon & Schuster. He’s a two-time Nebula Award winner, first in 1982 for his novella “Another Orphan,” then in 2008 for the novelette “Pride and Prometheus.” He set a new record with that second award, in that the 26 years between the two was (at the time) the longest gap for a winner in Nebula history. His short story “Buffalo”—one of my all-time favorites in or out of genre, and one which I reread often—won the Theodore Sturgeon Memorial Award in 1992.

We discussed why he suddenly has two novels coming out within a year two decades after his last one, how attending the 1969 St. Louis Worldcon changed his life, the ways in which his objections to “The Cold Equations” and Ender’s Game are at their heart the same, his early days attempting to emulate Thomas M. Disch, the time-travel short story he couldn’t whip into shape for Damon Knight, which author broke his 26-year Nebula Awards record for the longest gap between wins, the secret behind the success of his many collaborations with James Patrick Kelly, and more.

Here’s how you can share some quahogs with us— (more…)

There was no Instagram 10 years ago when we gathered in New York City for the 2007 Nebula Awards weekend—but if it had existed, the festivities might have looked something like this.

Hanging out with John Kessel

(more…)

Instagram didn’t launch until 2010—but why should that stop me from Instagramming L.A.con IV, the 2006 Worldcon which took place in Anaheim?

And so … here are seven snapshots of who were were a decade ago.

Bob Silverberg

At breakfast in a shirt I can’t quite believe I ever owned. (more…)

I just woke from a bad dream about John Kessel, and now I can’t get back to sleep.

I was at a Nebula Awards ceremony, seated one table away from John. He was called upon to say a few words about science fiction poetry (and thinking about it now, I have no idea why, since there are so many other topics in which he’s more of an expert), but instead of rising and walking to the podium, he just sat there, mumbled a word or two, and fell silent. Maybe he’s forgotten his speech, I thought, and so with one of my feet, I slid over a copy of a recent volume of the Nebula Awards anthology which I just happened to have at the banquet and which just happened to have an essay of his in it. I figured it might remind him of what he wanted to say. But though I pushed the book at him, bumping it into one of his feet, he didn’t respond, and his chin dropped to his chest, and I got worried.

As the silence grew, and no one did anything, I got up and knelt by John, calling his name. He didn’t respond, and so I pressed my fingers against his throat, searching for a pulse. I waited, unsure whether I could feel anything. First I thought there was a pulse, then I thought there wasn’t. But in either case, since he wasn’t telling me to get my hand off his throat, I knew something was very wrong.

Strangely, no one else had yet taken any action (they all just sat there!), and I pulled John to the floor, stretched him out, and called for someone to get a doctor. I shouted John’s name over and over, thinking that I’d better start CPR, since no one else seemed to be doing anything. I kept shouting his name as I woke, and found myself in bed, thankful it was only a dream.

And then I lay there, thinking … even though it’s 4:45 a.m., and I need lots more sleep for the day to come, there’s no way I’m getting it now.

Until I thought … maybe if I wrote about the dream and shared it with you, my mood might pass, and I could fall back to sleep.

So that’s what I’m trying. I’ll let you know later if it works.

Meanwhile, I hope John’s okay. And I’m sure glad I don’t believe in omens.

I did something a little bit obsessive this evening.

OK, a lot obsessive.

I went through the membership list for World Fantasy Con and counted the number of people with whom I shared a meal, plus the number with whom I chatted, some briefly, some extensively.

I had my reasons, though.

I’ve never taken the life I lead for granted. But two recent conversations with people not part of my convention-going life reinforced how lucky I am to have what I have.

In talking to one person, I tried to explain the experience of entering a crowded room, knowing everybody, and having to decide with whom to strike up a conversation first. (more…)

I arrived at the Fairmont and immediately had a powerful sense of deja vu, as this was the same hotel I spent much of the San Jose Worldcon partying at back in 2002. I missed yesterday’s opening ceremonies, and showed up too late to register, but I was immediately in a boisterous maelstrom of friends. No name badge was needed with this crowd.

I ended up going to dinner almost immediately with John Kessel, Paul Park, Kij Johnson, Leslie Howle, and Neile Graham. We ended up at a joint called Don Pedro’s, where I had a big bowl of goat soup—but only because they were all out of the fried pork skin!

Here I am on one side of the table with John and Kij:

You can see the rest of my few initial World Fantasy photos here.

I partied much too late—at least for this East Coast body&#8212and so by the time I crashed my internal clock was telling me it was 3:00 a.m. I’m sure I missed most of the fun. I look forward to being a more well-adjusted partier tonight!

I dreamed this morning that I was in a restaurant taking part in a chicken-eating contest with Gardner Dozois. Susan Casper and John Kessel watched on. Unfortunately, the results of our match were inconclusive, because I woke before we arrived at a winner.

In the face of all the dreams I’ve shared with you here, you may ask yourself—does this guy dream of anything else besides hanging out with his publishing friends? Don’t worry. I promise you that I do. I’m a frequent dreamer, and usually remember 3-5 dreams per night. But I only choose to inflict upon you the dreams that seem relevant.

If I shared all of my dreams, you’d really be in trouble!

If you’ve ever wanted to see award-winning author John Kessel blown away, I just noticed that you’ll have two opportunities over the next 24 hours.

The Independent Film Channel will be showing the movie The Delicate Art of the Rifle at 6:55 p.m. this evening and at 3:30 a.m. Thursday morning. Kessel plays a professor killed by a Charles Whitman-like sniper.

I’ve never seen this film before, but I’ve heard of it, and I’m setting the DVR now on anticipation of what will surely be an Oscar-caliber performance!