(*disclaimer: If I forget to mention you, or a certain event, it’s not personal. It means: I’m still foggy while recovering from my flu and/or I’m a horrible person who sometimes forgets the names of his own children, no really, it’s true*)
Got up way too early to drive the kids north, and then to the hotel. I blame it for the illness that would soon turn me into Typhoid Tremblay. Regardless, I arrived in time to see a couple of panels and get lunch, off con-site, with Laird and Jack Haringa. The rest of the afternoon remains somewhat of a blur, though I did attend the Lovecraft Unbound reading, which featured Laird, Caitlin R. Kirnan, and Michael Cisco (who is an amazing live reader).
Much of the rest of the afternoon/early evening was spent in the hotel’s bar/pub. I got to have a long chat with Victoria Blake (editor/publisher of Underland Press), get made fun of by Jack, deflect the verbal assualt onto Cisco, and have a shepherd’s pie eating contest with JoAnn and Gabriel Mesa. I lost. Friend and amazing writer, Stephen Graham Jones, found his way to the hotel from Montana somehow and joined us at the bar.
Soon enough it was time for Readercon’s Meet the Prose party. The room was packed, and hading out rocks (riverstones engraved with 2008 Shirley Jackson Awards) to the nominees was a challenge, but one we passed. Though Daryl Gregory tried to hit me with his rock.
People tried to tempt me with Mafia, but instead I tried my best to be social and mingle at bit. I met a group of very nice guys and good writers who became known, simply as, the Canadians. The Canadians: Ian Rogers, Richard Gavin, and Simon Strantzas. The Canadians are not to be trifled with. We soon found them in the company of Michael Dirda and Peter Straub. Later, Simon informed me that he wasn’t going to be reading any damned novella that required yellow highlighting. I stabbed him in the pancreas with my highlighter. I await retribution from the Canadians.
The night ended with Laird, the Canadians, and myself chatting in the hotel lobby. It was there that I felt the first pangs of the cold/flu that would haunt the rest of my weekend. And the rest of everyone else’s weekend as I spent my time coughing on everyone. Enjoy the germs and airborne sputum!