The voices in my head don't think they're imaginary

OK, it appears my phone fu isn't as good as I thought. Or to put a more fine point on it, the Concourse Hotel's live reservation agent isn't any less busted than the online system. 'Cause see, this morning when I talked to our little friend Ashley and told her I wanted to book rooms for Wiscon, she happily booked me into rooms on the Governor's Club floor -- for Wiscon 2009. 'Cause, why would she even *ask* if I meant the 2008 Wiscon? If someone's calling to book rooms in December of 2007, a prudent and reasonable person assumes they're calling for the 2009 Wiscon, right???

I do not suffer fools gladly!!!!!

So everyone who's astonished that I magically secured a room on the Governor's Club floor can now relax. The magical land of fairies, booze and sugar shall remain inviolate.

... UNTIL 2009, that is!!!

Meanwhile, word from Ashley is that there are no rooms in the block at all for Friday or Saturday night. So who's got a good suggestion for a fallback hotel?

[Edited: No suggestions needed ... I've gotten myself booked into the Doubletree Plaza Hotel. It's not super close, but the walk will do me good. Also, I get Hilton points.]

So I had a wonderful breakfast with ecmyers when I was in NYC, and among many, many other things we talked about WisCon and how the Concourse Hotel's online reservation system should have the initials SUX instead of the Salt Lake City airport, and how time was running out and really, we should get our hotel reservations in ... so, long story short (I know, bus has already left on that, shut up) I got busy this morning and just finished making arrangements not only for WisCon but also for RadCon and Norwescon as well.

(I was half-assed thinking of making my reservation for World Fantasy too, except I have this terrible feeling that by the time October '08 rolls around, the exchange rate will be so bad that paying for a room in Canada will involve rolling a wheelbarrow of American cash across the border.)

Yes, I'm going to be a con-going fool this spring. Which is not much different from just being a normal fool, except that it's more expensive and there tends to be liver damage involved.

So anyway, I have rooms. I am especially excited about having secured a room on the Governor's Club floor at WisCon. Last year, I knew the Governor's Club only as a magical land of booze, sugar, and fairies that I was not allowed to enter. This year I'm crashing the gates. Behold the mighty power of my early-reservation-fu!

Wiscon was great, and I will definitely go again if I can. I didn't meet everyone, but I don't care. The people I *did* meet and *did* hang with, and *did* get run over by cows with, and *did* deal with barf with and *did* close out the Interstitial Arts Foundation Party with were, to quote Katherine Hepburn, "cherce."

I did a lot more "business" at this con than I have at any con previous. I got invited to an anthology that sounds really exciting, I got to hang with the editor of Escape Pod's new fantasy "imprint" (my awesome cool bud velourmane), I've got a couple of cool agents to send my book to, and I even got tracked down for my autograph (by Nina Kiriki Hoffman, no less ... no, it wasn't *her* who wanted my autograph, but she saw me and pointed me in the direction of the person who did, elisem, who wanted me to scribble in her copy of P6.) I also can say I now have oldcharliebrown's and melodican's names straight. (How I mistook Stephen Segal for Sean Wallace for this long, I really can't imagine.)

I discovered the work of yuki_onna (Catherynn Valente) and snurri (David J. Schwartz) at readings ... they're both writers I've heard so much about, but I've never actually been exposed to. Both of them read pieces that absolutely floored me. I look forward to reading more from both of them.

Finally, friends ... a warning.

Do not joke about spreadable cheese in the Madison airport security line.

It will be an almost insurmountable challenge. (I warn you of this now so you can prepare yourself.) As you're watching a bunch of poor schlubs being forced to take delicious plastic pots of spreadable cheese out of their carry-on bags and throw them away in the garbage cans, you will be *so* tempted to mutter to your neighbor, "yeah, like someone's going to blow up a plane with spreadable cheese." Because the ironic contrast between the grim ugliness of a blowing-up plane and the well-documented ridiculousness of processed cheese food is just too stark and hilarious.

But the TSA takes jokes about spreadable cheese very seriously. Especially in Wisconsin.

They *will* call their supervisor if your smart mouth gets the better of you. They *will* remind you that free speech doesn't exist in the airport security line, and that the Lords of TSAstan do not appreciate your sense of humor. And that's all I've got to say about that.

Except for one thing. As part of the "Glorifying Terrorism" reading (and in retrospect, am I not glad I did not have *that* book in my carryon at *that* particular moment!) the organizers were handing out blank "Terrorism is_______" stickers. I did not really know how to fill in the blank until I ran afoul of the TSA at the Madison airport. Now, it is tattooed on my brain, and forever will be.

Terrorism is spreadable cheese.

Thank you, and good night.

(Oh, PS ... I came home to an acceptance! Postcards from Hell is going to take Kandi, the Pregnant Vegas Stripper Angel of Death off my hands. Instead of payment, I've opted to take a subscription. With this (and my very subtle illo in the back of the Diet Soap sampler, the symbolism of which you have to really stare at hard to comprehend) my artistic career is launched. I'll see you all in Hell, baby!)

OK, that subject line is lame, but I'm still trying to recover from last night. I was up until 4 a.m. hanging out at the Tor party and the Wheatland/Scribe/Farrago's Wainscot party, boozing it up with awesome people like mme_publisher, catrambo (and guest of, who is a very charming gentleman), therinth (my first F2F with her--a lovely lady!), ecmyers, dotar_sojat, and heatherlindsley (who I have just syndicated, even though she does not know it, mwaahahah!) I also met a passel of interesting folks who have LJs who aren't my friends yet, but I intend to rectify that little oversight post haste.

(You know, every time I use the words "post haste," I flash back to the Baz Luhrmann version of "Romeo+Juliet" where someone sent something via a FedEx style envelope, except it wasn't "FedEx", it was "Post Haste." I found that so groaningly bad, so hideously wrong, that I have been scarred for it by life and can never use "post haste" the way I used to.)

In other news, I finally caught up with douglain, by the way. Many Diet Soaps were handed out. Many more Diet Soaps were used as fans throughout the night. But at least they're in the hands of the masses, where they belong, being used as a tool against the power-mad depredations of the patriarchy. Or as fans to cool off. It's all good.

Now I'm at Michelangelo's coffee shop, listening to Philip Glass (which is really rather good as hangover music ... IF YOU'RE A MASOCHIST) and trying to get some writing done. My Tin House story isn't going to write itself, no matter how much I wish it would.

A beautiful morning here at Wiscon, after a bit of a hectic start to the con. Faithful readers of this blog will remember that I had a panicked call from a client, not one hour after I'd arrived at the con, saying that her document needed to be "entirely rewritten! It'll take you all weekend!" Well, luckily it wasn't *quite* that bad. I sat down, reviewed all her comments, and knocked most of them out in the two hours while everyone else was out at dinner. Then I came down here while everyone else is at lunch and finished the rest. I just sent the client her revised draft. Of course, we have to discuss the draft at 5:30 p.m. tonight (right after the Broad Universe reading, when I'm *supposed* to be going to dinner with scusteister.) Hopefully her edits will be short. Somehow, I don't believe they will be. Oh well, wot the hell, toujour gai!

Despite all the work I'm having to do, Wiscon is shaping up to be the hell-of-a-blast everyone has said it is. After staying up way too late at the Ratbastard Karaoke party (and STILL not getting to sing, despite the fact that I'd spent almost $20 bucks on manhattan cocktails to give me courage) I got up early to walk through the Farmer's Market with heidi_lampietti. I got coffee at the Michelangelo coffeeshop and croissants at one of the many purveyors of baked goods, and it was all just lovely. Truly a world-class farmer's market.

Then, coming back to the con proper, I met up with catrambo, velourmane, dotar_sojat (and other lovely people who either don't have LJs, or who have LJs and I don't know their handles) in attendance at the Genre Tokenism panel. Fascinating insights from the panelists.

Next, at 1 p.m., there are about five panels happening simultaneously that I want to attend. I may have to rudely split my time between a couple of them. Later, the Broad Universe reading. I still don't know what I'm going read. I was going to read something from my new purple basil story, but I don't think that's polished enough. Hm.

Now, however, I think I'm going to put my computer away, dash through the dealer's room, and try to find something cold to drink. I have the most unholy craving for a Big Gulp right now.

P.S. I still haven't run into douglain. I would suspect that he wasn't here, except I've seen copies of the Wiscon preview of Diet Soap floating around, so, I just don't know. He is like the wind.
P.P.S. I particularly enjoyed the Long Expected Party reading last night, featuring pals ecmyers and catrambo and Heather Lindsley, who assured me after the reading that she's *got* a blog, she just doesn't have time to actually *write* in it.

Apparently, people in Madison really love their dogs. I am on the hotel shuttle, and I just passed a billboard for a kennel that read "Book your dog's summer vacation today!" Which made me go, "Crap! I am not as pulled together as I think! I have not booked my dog's summer vacation yet!!"

***

On the way to the hotel there is an apartment complex called "Quisling Terrace." I don't think I'd want live there.

***

In the shuttle, turning the corner and seeing the Capitol Building, I had the strangest feeling of Deja Vu. I must have researched Madison, Wisconsin for a story once, or something, because the feeling was so strong.

***

I may be the only person *at* Wiscon who is *also* at Bittercon. Because not an hour after I got here, I got an emergency call from a client and it looks like I'm going to have to spend much of the weekend reworking her brochure. I am skipping dinner, sitting in the lobby, rewriting her copy, hoping to get enough done so I can go to some of the programming after Opening Ceremonies. Indeed, I feel like Cinderella left home to scrub floors while everyone else goes to the ball. Wah, me.

Sometimes, when I have plenty of time between connecting flights, I will opt for a seat in the very back of the plane. There are obvious downsides to these seats, most notably that you have to wait for everyone else to get off before you can escape your blue-polyester upholstered sarcophagus. However, there are potential advantages, namely that you can often snag a whole row to yourself.

Not so on today's flight from PDX to Minneapolis. Instead, I got stuck in the back of the plane with a big noisy group of Rumanian Pentacostal teenagers. They were really amazed by the most mundane aspects of modern air travel ("Hey, you know what's weird? When we get to Minneapolis it will be 11:30 a.m., but back in Portland it will only be 9:30 a.m.!!)

Stuck in the back as we were waiting to deplane, the teenagers had little to amuse themselves with other than razzing the efforts of the baggage handlers working below. ("You know what those guys make? Like $15,000 a year! Losers!")

Big fun, I tell you.

In other news, MSP has installed these amazingly cool Dyson AirBlade hand dryers in their bathrooms since I was here last. These things are amazing. They actually, like, dry your hands. In about two seconds flat. They are so neato, I hope we start to see them all over the world. I find it fascinating that Dyson is building a brand around, y'know, stuff actually working. One would think that would be table stakes, but apparently not, apparently that's a Unique Selling Proposition in today's topsy-turvy funhouse of a world.

In other other news, I'm bringing about four separate stories near to completion, and just in time too: Tin House's "Fantastic Women" deadline is coming up, and "Paradox" is just about to reopen for submissions.

And that's all the news from Minneapolis. Stay tuned for news from Madison AS IT HAPPENS!

For all those of you who said I should get me a Bea Arthur Has a Posse t-shirt made for WisCon, well, it appears that idea is RIGHT OUT. CafePress just sent me an email saying that my image violates some kind of rights or something. So they won't print it for me. Fuckers.

It's all a part of a vast CafePress conspiracy, the murky and sinister outlines of which I'm just beginning to perceive. Consider this: what prompted me to make my OWN amazing and wonderful Bea Arthur shirt this morning was my frustrated attempt to buy this amazing and wonderful Bea Arthur t-shirt. The pain of the thwarting was such that I was moved to write an email to one guy at Yankee Pot Roast whose email address I could find which read, in part:

Honestly, friend, is your CafePress site some kind of cruel joke? Have you purposefully baited it with the sweet promise of Bea Arthur's smirking face on a 100% cotton T just to frustrate and confuse me? Do you get your kicks this way? I want you to know that I have spent hours at your hip, ironic store, clicking on every hip, ironic link, trying to get to the place where I could hand CafePress fistfuls of my hard-earned cash (of which you'll get pennies, sucker) so that I could have a Bea Arthur t-shirt. But there is simply no way to order a Bea Arthur shirt on your CafePress store. Is this some kind of postmodern statement? That those who want the comfort of a strong female figure should, defacto, not be allowed access to that figure? Are you trying to blow my mind? Or have you installed some kind of "cool" test in which people who are cool enough to wear the Bea Arthur shirt are mysteriously able to see the link that allows them to purchase it? Because I think I'm cool enough. I'm cool because I'm not cool. Not cool is the new cool. It is also the old cool. Polyester pants and Lane Bryant mu-muus are all I need to be cool. And a Bea Arthur t-shirt.

But now, seeing the kind of hassles CafePress has put me through, I'm wondering if the Yankee Pot Roasters didn't run into the same problems that I did.

I can never forgive them, but at least now the healing can begin.

What do you think ... should I get one printed up at CafePress and take it to WisCon with me?

So now I'm really starting to think about going to WisCon. I have enough FF miles (on 2 different cards) to pay for a round trip flight. The con registration isn't that expensive, and it doesn't (yet) seem to be sold out.

Maybe if I could find someone who wanted to share a room with me ... heidi_lampietti can vouch that I'm house trained.

Watch this space for details as they develop.

Peace out.

Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit!

It's the funniest thing ... turns out I made a hotel reservation WAAAY back on Sept. 5 for the Madison Concourse Hotel in Madison, Wisconsin! It seems back then I had some kind of crazy magical foreknowledge that I'd be going to WisCon or something. I'd forgotten all about the reservation. Thank God the hotel emailed me something, or I might have completely forgotten all about it and been stuck with a strange charge on my credit card for the first night.

Now, I could just cancel the hotel room ...

OR ...

I could check my frequent flier mile balance, see if registration is already full, try to prognosticate the state of my poor abused bank account a month into the future ...

You know, generally torture myself. THEN decide to cancel the hotel room.

Sigh. All the cool kids get to go to WisCon ...