On the road again: Arisia, day 3

I began the day after a rather long and delicious sleep, so I entered the small hotel gym with more than my usual enthusiasm. The previous day, free headphones had been plentiful, so I left my earbuds in the room. This gym still hates me: no free headphones. So, I walked the treadmill while alternately watching the silent TV and pondering Children No More.

The race each way across the glassed-in walkway was thrilling, as always.

Dave Seeley, who is the artist guest of honor, led an art show tour that I quite enjoyed. Dave began by discussing the works he had on display--and asking me to talk a bit about his cover for the Transhuman anthology--and then gave his perspective on quite a few other pieces in the show.

From his tour we went to a bellydance performance in the main ballroom. We emerged a sweaty forty-five minutes later with two distinct impressions:

1) All the dancers were at least decent, with several very good and quite a lot of fun to watch.

2) It is possible to fill a ballroom with so much fan ass stench that the smell actually begins to solidify in the air and obscure your vision.

Rarely have I been happier to hide for a few minutes in my own, fan-ass-free room and breathe its odor-free atmosphere.

Dinner was a great tasting menu at No. 9 Park. We'd read some foodie online comments that suggested the place had lost its way, but our server at Oishii had recommended it, so we gave it a go. The foodies were wrong; she was right. With the exception of an unsatisfying and extremely sticky dessert, each course was delightful. I highly recommend this place.

Arisia report, day 1

After a not very refreshing two hours and forty-five minutes of sleep, I rolled out of bed, trimmed my beard, showered, and headed to the airport for the delight that is air travel in America today. Everyone was quite kind, though the sheer quantity of electronics in my briefcase caused the nice TSA folks to swab many different parts of it. In the Admiral's Club I enjoyed a bagel I'd purchased earlier and caught up on email, courtesy of their now-free-to-members bandwidth.

The flight was on a commuter jet and uneventful. I dozed a tiny bit, read, and tried to keep my water from spilling during the bumpier bits of the descent. I carry an older pair of glasses for use on the plane, because I've lost glasses on planes before. Well, I did it again. I am dropping too many stitches--and I'm now out of spare glasses.

The con hotel is a pleasant Hyatt, though like most of its type (maybe all) it has the poor taste to be a Pepsi products establishment. The room is the usual adequate con hotel room, though the wireless is better than normal and the cell phone service in my room far worse--non-existent, in fact. I must make calls from the lobby. The only upside is that while doing so I ran into and chatted briefly with multiple fan friends.

We had lunch at the very nice Trident bookstore/cafe, then strolled Newbury Street for a bit before stopping in a quickie mart to load up on Diet Coke and water and then cabbing back to the hotel.

The early evening brought the gift of a lovely hour and a half with Dave Seeley, whose work I like and who did the cover painting for Transhuman, which as the link shows you can now order, and Rick Berry, whom I had the pleasure of meeting for the first time. I've long admired Rick's work; maybe someday I'll be able to afford it. I hope to be able to spend more time chatting with these two in the future.

Dinner was a tasting menu at Clio. Had this been my first tasting menu and my first top-drawer restaurant, the meal might have blown me away with its greatness. Instead, I found it overall a disappointment. The place charges prices comparable to the top-tier places, so it should provide food as good as theirs. Though the courses were indeed quite tasty, they were often a bit overwrought and frequently missed the mark by using one ingredient that overwhelmed the rest. A perfect small scallop, for example, sat in a shell in a pool of cranberry juice. Both the scallop and the juice were tasty, but eaten together the juice masked the flavor of the scallop. (I had two, so having learned my lesson with the first, I drank the juice of the second and then ate its scallop.) A perfectly seared piece of foie gras vanished in the face of the hot pepper shavings on the plate with it; I made that mistake only once. And so on. I recommend the place overall, but I would not again pop for the price of the tasting menu.

The rest of the night has been all work. To that I now return.

A Hugo plug and a random walk

The plug: In 2007, Baen published Barry N. Malzberg's fine book of critical essays, Breakfast in the Ruins. This volume collects his earlier, excellent book, Engines of the Night, and many newer essays. If you're at all interested in the history of SF or Barry's fascinating take on many different aspects of publishing, as well as the mindset of a very smart and very talented writer, please check it out. If you have read it, you know it should be on the Hugo ballot for Best Related Book, so nominate it. I will.

Disclosure: I consider Barry a friend, though I would not claim to be close to him, and I am a close friend of David Drake, who is a close friend of Barry. The book still deserves the award.

Thanks to my friend, Pam, I learned that the U.S. has finally won a gold medal in the World Rock Paper Scissors Championship--and the champ was the first ever woman to win the contest. See, Sarah, you have hope! (Okay, she beat me tonight. I had to admit it.)

My editor's copies of Transhuman arrived today. The book looks good, courtesy of a very striking cover painting by Dave Seeley and a strong cover design by Jennie Faries. It's an anthology, so I know that the odds are that it won't sell many copies, but I encourage everyone to pick it up. Even if you don't want to read my story, you'll find many other interesting tales in it. Check it out.

On the Overthrowing Heaven front, I think that just maybe I have all the big pieces figured out and can begin typing up what will grow into the outline.

And on that note, I return to that task.