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hmpfTime for my Concourse report. In fact, I should have written it days ago, considering that I was doing nothing really useful and knew that I would have more important stuff to do later. But I didn't, and I have to stop procrastinating, and while I know that the *reasonable* way to go about this would be to start on the more important stuff first and squeeze the con report in somewhere, I know that I won't be able to concentrate on anything important without knowing the con report is done (or at least begun). So, con report first.
All right. Concourse, or, as my badge proclaims, the 55th. Annual British National Science Fiction Convention, AKA Eastercon. I went, I saw, I preached. What else did you expect?
Like DortCon, where I did the preaching thing around this time last year, Eastercon is a traditional science fiction convention. That means it draws a rather different demographic than the events I am used to, which are usually small, media or Tolkien-oriented, and dominated by a younger crowd (including many people I know). Attendees at traditional cons on average tend to be more than just slightly older than the crowd I'm used to, and certainly tend to be more cerebral. Which is fine by me, as I have cerebral leanings as well, on occasion. *g*
Compared even with the largest cons I've been to so far, Eastercon is huge - and I'm told this year's was a rather small one. There were about 700 people there, but apparently about twice as many are usually expected. There was a lot of programming, much of it interesting, most of which I missed, due to arriving a day late and then spending a lot of my time buying too many books and socialising, as well as sitting on panels and talking without having a clue, instead of sitting in the audience, listening and learning. Ah well. 'twas an interesting experience, anyway.
Looking back now, almost exactly a week later, it is already difficult to remember the details.
I remember this much: I arrived late Friday night, by train, caught a cab, and was safely delivered to my cheap hotel which, maybe not as clean as a more expensive domicile, nevertheless offered me the luxury of a double bed all to myself. Instead of collapsing on it – although I was quite tired, having spent the last three days with my parents in Dartmoor, getting a lot of fresh air and getting up unusually early – I got creative and kept writing until about three a.m. This, of course, resulted in some problems getting up the next morning.
The con was supposed to start at 10:00 a.m. but I didn't make it out of bed until almost ten, missed breakfast, packed my laptop and other semi-necessary stuff, and hurried to the Winter Gardens, a Victorian or mock-Victorian (?) agglomeration of function and conference rooms in the city centre. Upon arriving, I was not only offered a free book (I chose 'Sailing to Sarantium' by Gay Gavriel Kay, since most of the other options were entirely unknown to me) but also a letter that told me I was to appear on a panel in... about thirty minutes. Yay.
Talk about a stunning opening to my convention experience. The panel was to be about European fandom, and never mind the fact that I am practically a newbie to it! Still, I managed not to have a heart attack on the spot - but only just. I was sent to the Green Room, offered a drink, then sent to the misnamed Spanish Hall, which looked more like a Tuscan Hall to me and many others, to wait for my item. While I was waiting, I was bought a tea by a very nice fan who I somehow did not manage to find again afterwards – in case you are reading this, my unknown benefactress (or what would be the female form of 'benefactor'? Oh, never mind...): thank you!
Time flew, 11:00 o'clock approached, and with it 'my' panel. When I entered the room and met the other two panelists – both hugely more knowledgeable than I was – it was reassuringly empty. The other panelists were Fans Around the World's Bridget Wilkinson and Danish author Klaus Mogensen. We waited until we had about three listeners, then held a panel that I suppose was at least halfways decent, thanks to the other two contributors. ;-) Whenever possible or appropriate, I passed questions about German fandom on to the (slightly late! *g*) Germans in the first row, among them BiFi of the SFCD (and boy, was I ever happy to see a familiar face!)
After the panel I said hi to BiFi and her two companions, Udo Emmerich and Thomas Recktenwald, and then proceeded to hang on to them, not exactly for dear life, but for the comfort of a known face in a crowd of strangers. Yes, I generally feel comfortable among fen, but among 700 of them that I don't know, it still feels good to know *someone*. We spent most of the next hour-and-a-half in the Spanish Hall, talking and trying to open my thermos bottle. (Not kidding. Those who know me in RL know my thermos bottle and its moods.) After about an hour's fruitless attempts by six different people, Wilf James arrived. Wilf is a fan of many talents, not least among them opening thermos bottle with nonchalance. He left many grown men humiliated...
By about half past two we caught the tail end of the Tesla coil demonstration, which was deafening, looked like a cinematic special effect, but remained largely mysterious to us, as we had missed the explanation that preceded it. We spent the larger part of the next two hours in the dealers' room and the art show, and I bought Too Many Books:
- Clifford Simak: Way Station
- Dan Simmons: Hyperion
- Gene Wolfe: The Fifth Head of Cerberus
- Alfred Bester: The Stars My Destination
- Stephen Donaldson: The Wounded Land
(The former four I got for a total of 10 pounds, the latter I bought used from the Cambridge University Science Fiction Society, because I happen to have been given volumes two and three of the Second Chronicles for free recently, but was still lacking volume one.) We also ran into another German fan there, Hans-Ulrich Böttcher. As could be expected in a room filled with books, we talked about books, and I got quite a few recommendations for classic sf. Always a good thing.
By 17:00 I had made Udo sufficiently curious of *my* reading matter that he joined me when I went to the programme item about 'City of Saints and Madmen'. The room was big, the audience not so, and a bearded guy in front was fighting some unruly technology. Finally everything was straightened out, and he introduced himself – as the author. To say I was surprised is an understatement. I hadn't even known he would be at the con.
The 'Rough Guide to Ambergris', as the programme item was titled, turned out to be a more than half-humourous powerpoint presentation introducing readers and, perhaps, tourists, to the wonders and dangers of the city of Ambergris – be they squid or mushroom shaped. It was as strange as the book, very entertaining, funny, and more than a little revolting in spots. (Udo soon decided this wasn't a book for him. I, however, continue to be intrigued.) After this virtual tour of the city/book I mustered all my courage and asked Jeff VanderMeer if he was going to be around – I suddenly felt an uncharacteristic urge to get my copy, which I had started to read two days earlier and had left at the hotel that day, signed. He said he was staying until Monday and then asked me if I had been outside the Winter Gardens, or rather, if I remember correctly, he asked if I had "experienced the whore Blackpool." A rather fitting description of the town... (I mostly avoided going outside, except for a quick, fascinated/apalled stroll or two.)
This exciting encounter was followed by dinner – fish and chips with 'the men' while BiFi was at some panel or other. Getting back, I caught the tail end of the superheroes panel, and then stayed right on in the room for a discussion about 'the most erotic SF character ever' and afterwards some 'Holistic Hitchhiking'. After that, I went to sit somewhere with some people, but I'll be frelled if I remember who with and where. Dave Lally must have been involved, though, for I remember talking to him, or being talked to by him, rather. Dave is about as fanatical as I am about Farscape, only about other things – and about thrice as quick at talking. In fact, I sometimes wondered how he found time to breathe! I didn't mind, though, as I was genuinely interested. Also, despite self-proclaimed nastiness (he likes to make fun of his friends), he is quite nice, really. I also remember talking to Udo, about the more problematic sides of fannish social life, or rather, the problems that arise from the inability to acknowledge a life beyond fandom. Sometime before 2 a.m. we headed home, and this night I did go to sleep immediately!
Sheesh, is this the longest con report of a single day ever or what? I'll have to be shorter about the next two days...
All right. Concourse, or, as my badge proclaims, the 55th. Annual British National Science Fiction Convention, AKA Eastercon. I went, I saw, I preached. What else did you expect?
Like DortCon, where I did the preaching thing around this time last year, Eastercon is a traditional science fiction convention. That means it draws a rather different demographic than the events I am used to, which are usually small, media or Tolkien-oriented, and dominated by a younger crowd (including many people I know). Attendees at traditional cons on average tend to be more than just slightly older than the crowd I'm used to, and certainly tend to be more cerebral. Which is fine by me, as I have cerebral leanings as well, on occasion. *g*
Compared even with the largest cons I've been to so far, Eastercon is huge - and I'm told this year's was a rather small one. There were about 700 people there, but apparently about twice as many are usually expected. There was a lot of programming, much of it interesting, most of which I missed, due to arriving a day late and then spending a lot of my time buying too many books and socialising, as well as sitting on panels and talking without having a clue, instead of sitting in the audience, listening and learning. Ah well. 'twas an interesting experience, anyway.
Looking back now, almost exactly a week later, it is already difficult to remember the details.
I remember this much: I arrived late Friday night, by train, caught a cab, and was safely delivered to my cheap hotel which, maybe not as clean as a more expensive domicile, nevertheless offered me the luxury of a double bed all to myself. Instead of collapsing on it – although I was quite tired, having spent the last three days with my parents in Dartmoor, getting a lot of fresh air and getting up unusually early – I got creative and kept writing until about three a.m. This, of course, resulted in some problems getting up the next morning.
The con was supposed to start at 10:00 a.m. but I didn't make it out of bed until almost ten, missed breakfast, packed my laptop and other semi-necessary stuff, and hurried to the Winter Gardens, a Victorian or mock-Victorian (?) agglomeration of function and conference rooms in the city centre. Upon arriving, I was not only offered a free book (I chose 'Sailing to Sarantium' by Gay Gavriel Kay, since most of the other options were entirely unknown to me) but also a letter that told me I was to appear on a panel in... about thirty minutes. Yay.
Talk about a stunning opening to my convention experience. The panel was to be about European fandom, and never mind the fact that I am practically a newbie to it! Still, I managed not to have a heart attack on the spot - but only just. I was sent to the Green Room, offered a drink, then sent to the misnamed Spanish Hall, which looked more like a Tuscan Hall to me and many others, to wait for my item. While I was waiting, I was bought a tea by a very nice fan who I somehow did not manage to find again afterwards – in case you are reading this, my unknown benefactress (or what would be the female form of 'benefactor'? Oh, never mind...): thank you!
Time flew, 11:00 o'clock approached, and with it 'my' panel. When I entered the room and met the other two panelists – both hugely more knowledgeable than I was – it was reassuringly empty. The other panelists were Fans Around the World's Bridget Wilkinson and Danish author Klaus Mogensen. We waited until we had about three listeners, then held a panel that I suppose was at least halfways decent, thanks to the other two contributors. ;-) Whenever possible or appropriate, I passed questions about German fandom on to the (slightly late! *g*) Germans in the first row, among them BiFi of the SFCD (and boy, was I ever happy to see a familiar face!)
After the panel I said hi to BiFi and her two companions, Udo Emmerich and Thomas Recktenwald, and then proceeded to hang on to them, not exactly for dear life, but for the comfort of a known face in a crowd of strangers. Yes, I generally feel comfortable among fen, but among 700 of them that I don't know, it still feels good to know *someone*. We spent most of the next hour-and-a-half in the Spanish Hall, talking and trying to open my thermos bottle. (Not kidding. Those who know me in RL know my thermos bottle and its moods.) After about an hour's fruitless attempts by six different people, Wilf James arrived. Wilf is a fan of many talents, not least among them opening thermos bottle with nonchalance. He left many grown men humiliated...
By about half past two we caught the tail end of the Tesla coil demonstration, which was deafening, looked like a cinematic special effect, but remained largely mysterious to us, as we had missed the explanation that preceded it. We spent the larger part of the next two hours in the dealers' room and the art show, and I bought Too Many Books:
- Clifford Simak: Way Station
- Dan Simmons: Hyperion
- Gene Wolfe: The Fifth Head of Cerberus
- Alfred Bester: The Stars My Destination
- Stephen Donaldson: The Wounded Land
(The former four I got for a total of 10 pounds, the latter I bought used from the Cambridge University Science Fiction Society, because I happen to have been given volumes two and three of the Second Chronicles for free recently, but was still lacking volume one.) We also ran into another German fan there, Hans-Ulrich Böttcher. As could be expected in a room filled with books, we talked about books, and I got quite a few recommendations for classic sf. Always a good thing.
By 17:00 I had made Udo sufficiently curious of *my* reading matter that he joined me when I went to the programme item about 'City of Saints and Madmen'. The room was big, the audience not so, and a bearded guy in front was fighting some unruly technology. Finally everything was straightened out, and he introduced himself – as the author. To say I was surprised is an understatement. I hadn't even known he would be at the con.
The 'Rough Guide to Ambergris', as the programme item was titled, turned out to be a more than half-humourous powerpoint presentation introducing readers and, perhaps, tourists, to the wonders and dangers of the city of Ambergris – be they squid or mushroom shaped. It was as strange as the book, very entertaining, funny, and more than a little revolting in spots. (Udo soon decided this wasn't a book for him. I, however, continue to be intrigued.) After this virtual tour of the city/book I mustered all my courage and asked Jeff VanderMeer if he was going to be around – I suddenly felt an uncharacteristic urge to get my copy, which I had started to read two days earlier and had left at the hotel that day, signed. He said he was staying until Monday and then asked me if I had been outside the Winter Gardens, or rather, if I remember correctly, he asked if I had "experienced the whore Blackpool." A rather fitting description of the town... (I mostly avoided going outside, except for a quick, fascinated/apalled stroll or two.)
This exciting encounter was followed by dinner – fish and chips with 'the men' while BiFi was at some panel or other. Getting back, I caught the tail end of the superheroes panel, and then stayed right on in the room for a discussion about 'the most erotic SF character ever' and afterwards some 'Holistic Hitchhiking'. After that, I went to sit somewhere with some people, but I'll be frelled if I remember who with and where. Dave Lally must have been involved, though, for I remember talking to him, or being talked to by him, rather. Dave is about as fanatical as I am about Farscape, only about other things – and about thrice as quick at talking. In fact, I sometimes wondered how he found time to breathe! I didn't mind, though, as I was genuinely interested. Also, despite self-proclaimed nastiness (he likes to make fun of his friends), he is quite nice, really. I also remember talking to Udo, about the more problematic sides of fannish social life, or rather, the problems that arise from the inability to acknowledge a life beyond fandom. Sometime before 2 a.m. we headed home, and this night I did go to sleep immediately!
Sheesh, is this the longest con report of a single day ever or what? I'll have to be shorter about the next two days...
