Dragoncon, Day III
SATURDAY
I hate the Shanes. Despite about ninety minutes of sleep, they woke us up with singing and dancing. Gentlemen, I was never in the Army. FOR A REASON. We threatened to kill them, duct-tape them into the shower or worse, exile them to the Pepto-Bismol Palace, our off-site home of our first year at DC. The fury fell on deaf ears. But rest assured, we got our own back. ;)
Saturday began with my reading, and I was pleased to see a handful of people. I wish I had been placed later in the day or even on Sunday, as I hadn't had the chance to talk up the reading much, and I would have loved to see more folks there. I read the zombies, and I think only one woman left - perhaps it was the shreds of armflesh dangling from Parish's mouth? Or maybe she had an appointment. The overall reaction was positive and I sold a few books.
Then came the signing at the Borders kiosk. Borders had an itty bitty booth, so I set up my chair beside them. As Frank said, I was signing in the back alley behind Borders. Fortunately Kelly Parker (the real one) showed up and turned out to be a hell of a barker. "Vampires so hot they're on fire!" she chanted, alternating with "vampires, getting in trouble with the LAW!" Hee.
We were there for an hour, which is about all the signing I can take - it's so stressful, with the pressure to meet/greet and sell at the same time. I suck at that part hard. I'm going to follow Connor Cochran's hilarious line about handlers - "If the author touches the money it disintegrates!" But we sold okay, and the books were available at the booth throughout the convention, which is the important part.
Dana had suffered mightily as myflunky slave handler. Thanks to the airline restrictions, we had no rolling cart, so anything I couldn't fit in my bag went in a box she had to carry. She termed this box the Tardis Box - it's bigger on the inside, with weight to match! At one point, she threatened to buy all my books and hand the copies out for free just so she wouldn't have to carry them anymore. I had no problem with this plan, in case you were wondering.
I had been looking for a replacement lanyard, so on our way out of the exhibition hall we stopped at the Southeastern Browncoats booth and I bought myself a lanyard reading, "Find a ship, find a crew, keep flying." Words to live by. Then I saw one with Wash's line, "So now I'm learning about carrying." I instantly bought it for Dana. Who says being my assistant has no perks?
Nighttime came and I made my biggest mistake of the con. No, not going to Vernard Martin's party-that-ate-the-pirates, that was great. I love seeing these people I only get to see once a year. No, my mistake was forgetting to go heckle Fred Grimm's zombie panel. I had given him some shit earlier in the week about the surprising lack of ME on his zombie panel, and intended to heckle from the back row. I completely forgot, and Fred later told me two people didn't show and if I'd been there he'd have put me on it instantly. Damn.
The best moment of the con apparently took place in Anne's presence. She spent the weekend mostly with the Colonial Fleet, of course. Their biggest party was on Saturday night, and she had volunteered to work security. Apparently most of the BSG cast came to the party, and Edward James Olmos - the Admiral himself - gave a rousing speech to the troops. He told them how important the fans were to the job they're doing and the art they strive for, bringing tears to the eyes. I later heard Olmos made the rounds until five a.m. even though he'd have to sign all day the next day, because he really believes in giving back to fans.
That, my friends, is how an artist treats his fandom. Those who stand at a podium and snore or tell them to get a life don't deserve their accolades or overpriced autographs. These are our new modern myths, the fabric of our culture, and art is just as important to the health of a society as its science and politics. Olmos has always treated his fans with respect and never belittles them for the importance they place on his work. Bravo, Admiral. I wish I could have heard your speech.
At the Vernard party, there was some imbibing. That's all I have to say about that. ;)
I hate the Shanes. Despite about ninety minutes of sleep, they woke us up with singing and dancing. Gentlemen, I was never in the Army. FOR A REASON. We threatened to kill them, duct-tape them into the shower or worse, exile them to the Pepto-Bismol Palace, our off-site home of our first year at DC. The fury fell on deaf ears. But rest assured, we got our own back. ;)
Saturday began with my reading, and I was pleased to see a handful of people. I wish I had been placed later in the day or even on Sunday, as I hadn't had the chance to talk up the reading much, and I would have loved to see more folks there. I read the zombies, and I think only one woman left - perhaps it was the shreds of armflesh dangling from Parish's mouth? Or maybe she had an appointment. The overall reaction was positive and I sold a few books.
Then came the signing at the Borders kiosk. Borders had an itty bitty booth, so I set up my chair beside them. As Frank said, I was signing in the back alley behind Borders. Fortunately Kelly Parker (the real one) showed up and turned out to be a hell of a barker. "Vampires so hot they're on fire!" she chanted, alternating with "vampires, getting in trouble with the LAW!" Hee.
We were there for an hour, which is about all the signing I can take - it's so stressful, with the pressure to meet/greet and sell at the same time. I suck at that part hard. I'm going to follow Connor Cochran's hilarious line about handlers - "If the author touches the money it disintegrates!" But we sold okay, and the books were available at the booth throughout the convention, which is the important part.
Dana had suffered mightily as my
I had been looking for a replacement lanyard, so on our way out of the exhibition hall we stopped at the Southeastern Browncoats booth and I bought myself a lanyard reading, "Find a ship, find a crew, keep flying." Words to live by. Then I saw one with Wash's line, "So now I'm learning about carrying." I instantly bought it for Dana. Who says being my assistant has no perks?
Nighttime came and I made my biggest mistake of the con. No, not going to Vernard Martin's party-that-ate-the-pirates, that was great. I love seeing these people I only get to see once a year. No, my mistake was forgetting to go heckle Fred Grimm's zombie panel. I had given him some shit earlier in the week about the surprising lack of ME on his zombie panel, and intended to heckle from the back row. I completely forgot, and Fred later told me two people didn't show and if I'd been there he'd have put me on it instantly. Damn.
The best moment of the con apparently took place in Anne's presence. She spent the weekend mostly with the Colonial Fleet, of course. Their biggest party was on Saturday night, and she had volunteered to work security. Apparently most of the BSG cast came to the party, and Edward James Olmos - the Admiral himself - gave a rousing speech to the troops. He told them how important the fans were to the job they're doing and the art they strive for, bringing tears to the eyes. I later heard Olmos made the rounds until five a.m. even though he'd have to sign all day the next day, because he really believes in giving back to fans.
That, my friends, is how an artist treats his fandom. Those who stand at a podium and snore or tell them to get a life don't deserve their accolades or overpriced autographs. These are our new modern myths, the fabric of our culture, and art is just as important to the health of a society as its science and politics. Olmos has always treated his fans with respect and never belittles them for the importance they place on his work. Bravo, Admiral. I wish I could have heard your speech.
At the Vernard party, there was some imbibing. That's all I have to say about that. ;)
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