Scarlet Letters

And here we are, on the verge of another adventure in Hotlanta. This will be my ninth Dragoncon, which I resolutely spell as one word without asterisks or spaces because I'm contrary that way (and a lazy typist). Elevators bedamned, I'm looking forward to another wild frenzy with my fiends in Atlanta! However, I must offer a caveat: For the first time in nine years, I will not be available in the dealer's room, wherever they've put it. None of my publishers or publishing allies are attending this year, and general booksellers are hard to find. Unless I stumble across a friendly vendor who wants me to announce the name and location of his/her booth at all my panels, the only way you can get books from me this year is to hunt me down! Thus, the stalking guide. Note: I will be happy to take your money before or after panels. I'd take your money during panels, but it might slow down the conversation and annoy the other panelists who are less craven and/or poor tha...

I missed this kid. I think. SCENE: The three of us, sitting at dinner. Man and I are still eating; Boy has inhaled his food as usual. Seriously, once a waiter checking back with us a few minutes after dropping off a huge platter of Cracker Barrel nummies saw Boy's empty plate and said, "Did he drop it?" BOY: *chomps last fry* ME: You know, your food isn't going to run away from you. BOY: Yes it is. ME: Stop staring at my fries. BOY: Are you going to eat all those? ME: Yes. BOY: Jimmy, are you going to eat all of your fries? MAN: YES. ME: Are you still hungry? BOY: Yes. ME: Are you still growing? BOY: Yes. ME: If I stop feeding you, would you stop growing? BOY: No. Also, that would be child abuse. MAN: He would just return to soaking in all the radiation of the universe and converting it directly to energy. BOY: Tastes like chicken. And that, friends, is when I lost it. Also, I gave him the rest of my fries.