On the road again: WorldCon, San Antonio, day 5

Today was about as perfect a travel day as I could hope to have. 

My first flight wasn't until mid-afternoon, so I was able to sleep late and catch up on work before heading for the airport.  The cabbie didn't have much English, but it was good enough to find the right terminal at the San Antonio airport. 

Waiting for me there were first-class upgrades for both flights, so I passed them in comfort.

My layover in DFW was just long enough to allow not only the usual shuttle ride between terminals but also a quick walk to the nearest Red Mango for their delicious parfait.  Red Mango makes every day a little bit better!

Bandwidth on both flights was slow but adequate for me to work, though just barely.  Still, that's nothing to complain about, and I was grateful to have it.

The flight home even arrived a hair early--and my checked bag appeared on time!

As I said, a truly good travel day.

The only flaw in the day was the sadness I, and, I suspect, most SF fans, felt at the news of Fred Pohl's death.  More on that loss tomorrow.

Tomorrow, I resume normal life for the five days until the next trip!

On the road again: WorldCon, San Antonio, day 4

My noon first panel, despite what most would consider to be its more than humane hour, managed to sneak up on me a bit.  The topic, "The Rapture of the Geeks," afforded plenty of room for discussion, and we ranged far and wide on the resulting intellectual turf.  From practicalities to computing requirements to ethical considerations, we left no key topic untouched--and all in an hour.  The conversation lacked depth, as it inevitably had to do given the breadth of the issues we tackled, but it kept both the audience and the panelists interested.

A little lunch, a little work, some time in the con chatting with friends and attending panels, and then I headed for my second panel of the day.  The topic was philosophy and science fiction, but we ended up talking about pretty much anything even tangentially related to that topic that interested the panelists or the questioners in the audience.  A few folks bailed early, but more replaced them, and we ended with a full house.

Evening brought the annual gathering of the SF clan to honor its own, the Hugo Awards ceremony.  I've been attending WorldCons since the 1978 event in Phoenix, and I've missed only a handful.  I've sat in the audience at the Hugos at every one of the WorldCons I was at, and at every single one I've left with a complex, roiling mass of feelings. 

On the one hand, I'm happy for the winners and glad to be part of this community.  I love its silly rituals and its bits of pomp, its Big Heart award and its tributes to those who have died.  I am always happy to be there.

On the other hand, I'm saddened by never even having been nominated.  As I grow older, and as my own mortality stands ever larger in my vision, I'm having trouble avoiding the fact that it's past time to accept that I will probably never be nominated, much less win.  I remind myself repeatedly that the only reason to write is because I must, and that all I can do is produce the best work I can, but sometimes awards and other distractions are hard to handle.  I have to assume all the other artists and writers encounter similar feelings. 

Despite those complex feelings, I am genuinely happy for the award winners and sincerely glad that I got to see another Hugo ceremony.  I hope to watch many, many more.

On the road again: WorldCon, San Antonio, day 3

My day began, as usual, with a bit of work, after which I rushed over to the convention center to do my 11:00 a.m. reading.  I expected no one to show, so I was pleasantly surprised to have an audience of ten or eleven folks whom I did not already know.  In gratitude for them getting up so early on a Saturday, I gave them several options for what I might read.  They chose the Heinlein afterword.

This time, I read it all the way through without tearing up, which I considered a definite improvement.

For most of the rest of the afternoon, I did normal con stuff:  got lunch, caught a few panels of friends, wandered the dealers' room and the art show, talked to a few friends.  I crammed in a bit of work as well.

I needed some time away from crowds, so I spent a few hours watching the UFC 164 prelims before I headed off to the Baen party.  I consider myself pretty bad at mingling at parties, so I found a tolerable spot on the large and lovely balcony and spent most of the evening talking to various folks, mostly existing friends but also a few people I met there.  For me, that's about as active a socializing plan as I can handle. 

I'm always struck by how bad I am at parties, while so many other folks seem completely at ease and in their element.  I don't expect to ever become good at these affairs, but I suppose I'm a tad less awkward than I once was.  That's progress of a sort.

On the road again: WorldCon, San Antonio, day 2

Today looked to be the quietest day of the con for me, so I slept more than normal, got up, worked, dozed a bit, and crammed in some more work.  After a quick lunch, I headed to the convention center to help with and catch the Baen Traveling Road Show, an always entertaining look at upcoming books and their cover art.

I roamed the art show a bit, but work beckoned, so I returned to it.  I look forward to the weekend days not being so full of work.

Dinner was a long, pleasant affair with Baen Publisher Toni Weisskopf and a host of Baen authors and friends.  We all walked to Bohanan's, a local steak house, and enjoyed traditional but very high quality steakhouse fare.  My Caesar salad was right on the mark, and my steak was delicious; I'd definitely go back there for the same sort of meal. 

After dinner, a group of us that included Lois McMaster Bujold sat and listened to law-enforcement stories from friends (and active workers in law enforcement) Griffin and Gerry. 

A low-key but pleasant day. 

On the road again: WorldCon, San Antonio, day 1

My day began and ended with work, and it also featured a healthy dose of work in the middle.  Even so, I managed to fit in some time at the con.

My first non-work activity was a barely passable lunch at the nearby food court.  Better food is readily available near the hotel, but I worked too late to be able to walk to any of it and still make my panel on time.  Tomorrow should be better on this front.

I was the moderator on my first panel, The Impact of Aaron Swartz.  My fellow panelists included two attorneys, a professor, and a reporter, all of whom had strong feelings about the topic and about the related broader issues of technology and civil liberties, so I focused on keeping the conversation going smoothly and making sure all the panelists had a chance to speak on all the topics.  We ran only a couple of minutes late, the discussion moved along briskly, and all in attendance seemed to enjoy the panel.  Good enough for me.

After a work conference call, I spent a bit of time checking out the art show and the dealers' room before returning to work.  I enjoyed the exhibits of several artists, though my favorite pieces were, rather predictably, from my friend and Hugo-nominated artist, John Picacio. 

Dinner was decent sushi at a nearby place, followed by Ben & Jerry's ice cream.

I party-crawled a bit, but my heart wasn't in it--I'm rarely comfortable in the big convention parties--and I was tired, so I called it an early (for me) night.

Tomorrow, I hope to get to see a bit more of the con, maybe catch a few panels.

On the road again: WorldCon, San Antonio, day 0

After three interrupted hours of truly terrible sleep, I woke up, showered, threw my Dopp kit into my suitcase, and headed for the airport.  Everything on the first leg went as well as it could:  pleasant work time in the Admirals' Club, an upgrade and a breakfast and a bit of dozing and a bit of work on the plane, and an early arrival.

As I was waiting to board the second plane, Griffin waved hello, and we hung out a bit.  It's always good to catch up with him, as I expect I'll be doing on and off throughout the con.

The second leg was short, and I was in an exit-row seat, so I dove again into work and had a pleasant enough flight.

Work ate most of the rest of the day, though I managed to register for the con and to buy some Coke Zero--essential work fuel--for the room.

It's my first night in Texas, so dinner was barbecue at a local branch of the County Line, and dessert was ice cream--not Amy's, but pleasant.

More work, some UFC fights on TV, more work--did I mention work?  Busy day.

In about twelve hours, I moderate a panel, so I'm going to crash now.  Tomorrow, the WorldCon starts for real.

Want to see No Going Back win a Hugo?You can make that happen.

Yes, it's that time of year again, the week in which many SF writers, including yours truly, take to the InterWebs to push their works as award contenders.  I've joined the crowd for the last few years for a lot of reasons, chief among them the grief I took from friends when I didn't do this embarrassing bit of self-promotion.

Nominating a book (or any other work) for a Hugo is easy:  go to the WorldCon's Hugo nomination page, read the instructions there, and fill in either the paper or the online ballot.

Well, it's not that simple:  to do those things, you have to be at least a supporting member either of the current WorldCon, LoneStarCon 3, last year's WorldCon, or next year's WorldCon.  These memberships aren't cheap; a supporting one is sixty bucks, and an active membership, which you need to attend the con, will now set you back two hundred smackers.

For that sixty bucks, though, you get the progress reports and the right to nominate works for a Hugo for two years.

My only eligible work this year is my novel, No Going Back.  I think it's my best book yet, and I'd love to see it win, but I think it has far less chance of even being nominated than Billy Mack's "Christmas Is All Around Us" crass song did of being the bestseller of the Christmas season in the movie Love Actually.  The difference is that the song won in the movie, while I've never had a work on the Hugo ballot.

To place a book on the Hugo ballot requires a surprisingly small number of nominations:  most years, sixty or so will do the trick, and I believe a hundred would do it in any year. 

So, if a hundred or so of you would like to see No Going Back gracing this year's Hugo ballot, please get busy and nominate it.  I'd certainly be grateful. 

Tomorrow, I'll return to my regularly scheduled programming--at which I'll be less embarrassed than I am now.