Archive for the ‘Convention Mention’ Category
I Made The Olympian!
Well, kind of. The Breaking Dawn Release Party made the Olympian, and if you look in the sidebar, you’ll see that I’m judging a Vampire Costume Contest at the party, as well as signing copies of Night Shift.
So again, if you’re in the area, come on by the Black Lake Blvd. Barnes & Noble to celebrate the release of the final book in Stephanie Meyer’s excellent series. There will even be cake and a fortune teller, and my friend Jeff Davis will be there with his Pacific NW ghost guides and copies of Weird America. All in all, it’s going to be a blast. I hope I’ll see you there.
The Train! The Train!
If you’ve been around here for a while, you know how I hate to fly. I loathe flying, not because I’m afraid of heights (though claustrophobia probably has something to do with it). No, I hate flying because of the inconvenience. Getting to the airport two or three hours early, dealing with the security lines–which do NOT make me feel more safe, they only make me feel more worried about the state of our democracy–then hours waiting at the gate, while boarding, to take off, to land, to disembark, to get the luggage…it turns into a nightmare, and I feel taken advantage of at each stage, not least since airlines have started charging for the first piece of checked luggage.
So when the publisher asked me to go to San Diego for ComiCon, I said, “Sure. Can I take the train?”
The publisher’s travel agency was floored that anyone would want a trip that took longer than flying, though when one adds in al the aggravation and waiting, I felt the train ride was probably shorter.
I LOVED the train ride. We took Amtrak’s Coast Starlight, which is supposedly their hoity-toity new refurbished ride down the West Coast, from Seattle to LA. There was some confusion–Amtrak itineraries are so ill-conceived I had problems reading them. Not only that, but so did the Selkie and the Muffin, so I didn’t feel quite so much a moron–which ended up with me upgrading the UnSullen One and myself to something called a “Roomette” instead of coach.
Which I was endlessly glad of. For slightly less than plane tickets for both of us from PDX to SAN, we got two single beds (one of them a bunk) and a private enclosure, meals (well, train food, which is better than plane food only in you get slightly more choices and slightly bigger portions, as well as cheaper booze), and a door we could close to shut the world out.
The roomette worked out so well I called ahead in Sacramento on the way down to see if we could upgrade on the way back. We actually got, for slightly more than the price of a coach/economy plane ride back for both of us, something called a “deluxe”–a bigger bed on the bottom, a bunk on top, both of which folded up so the traveling compartment held a bench seat and a “chair”, plus our own sink, loo, and shower.
We got the last upgrade possible on the returning train, and boy HOWDY was I glad.
So, the trip itself! We left Vancouver at about 1PM on Wednesday and bumped southward. Both of us were excited and very happy not to be on a plane, notwithstanding a car attendant who seemed to be on meth and very unhappy at the same time. Still, with the exception of trying to get her to tell us how to put our beds up the next day, she wasn’t that bad.
The scenery was pretty much awesome. The Starlight winds through the Cascades and goes through Salinas and San Luis Obispo, both places I wanted to see. Going through the Cascades was awesome, because we could see valleys cars couldn’t traverse; we also passed Vandenberg (sp?) Air Force Base, a ship graveyard, and all sorts of neat historical places. (I got off in Salinas and touched the dirt, feeling very Steinbeck.)
Going through urban areas the scenery was less pretty but no less awesome. The UnSullen One was agog at all the graffiti, and spent many an enjoyable hour watching it. I enjoyed seeing cities from trainside–you get a much “seamier” view than driving through. On a train you can see into people’s backyards, you can see the shelters the homeless have put up, you can see junkyards and the back yards of industrial complexes. It was great Musecrack, especially for an urban fantasy author. Being able to stretch out one’s legs and relax was incredibly nice, too.
It was a long, long trip on the way down. Even though we had a shower in our sleeper car, I didn’t get to wash my hair and was feeling a bit greasy by the time we pulled into LA. (By the way–seeing LA at night from the rails is an EXPERIENCE, especially when some idiot kids leave a bicycle on the tracks.) In LA there was a bit of a wait while we transferred to the train to San Diego, which was a far more exhausting ride since at that point, the Teen and I both had to interact with people and were stressed out about possibly not making our connection. Plus, we were told to go to three different platforms, with the third finally being the correct one. GUH. < ---That was the sound of me wishing I had a transporter.
Getting into San Diego at 1-2AM was all right, especially since the hotel was two blocks away from the train/trolley station. Tired, but not as exhausted as we could have been, we both took showers and collapsed, and were ready to go do ComiCon madness after a bit of sleeping.
The UnSullen One was full of good ideas all weekend long, and one of the best was when he suggested we hop down Saturday afternoon and get our upgraded tickets instead of waiting for 5AM Sunday morning. It was pretty hot and a half-hour wait, mostly because of one Entitled Customer who just would. Not. Shut. Up. when dealing with the only open ticket window, but as soon as she was out of the way the line started moving at a good clip and we got our upgraded tickets, which meant no stress the next morning.
Coming back up from San Diego it was the Surfliner to LA (again) and a transfer once we hit LA. Then the best part of the trip (the train trip, that is) happened. Since we were in a sleeper car, we got to hang out in the Starlight's new lounge in Los Angeles Union Station, which is a very, very pretty building in its front half. Tiled floors and long windows, old wooden pews and a certain grace and harmony from when trains were the only way to go. We had a wonderful, wonderful crew on the way back up to Vancouver. Our car attendant, Julio, was different as night and day from out meth-snorting twitcher on the way down. I don't think I had to lift a finger I didn't want to. It was cool seeing the scenery at different times of day, and we could relax with the con and all the transfers behind us.
So, without further ado, here are the famous BULLETED LISTS of Good Things and Not So Good Things about the train ride.
GOOD THINGS:
* Sitting in the parlor car, drinking coffee and Bailey’s, watching the Cascades fold away in timbered valleys below.
* The California coast, hugged for a while between LA and the inward turn.
* Julio the car attendant, and the lovely lady in the parlor car on the way back, who made sure I was well taken care of and talked graffiti with the Teen.
* The food may not have been high quality, but at least there was enough of it. You wouldn’t starve in a sleeper car, and the meals are included in the ticket price.
* Hannah, Olivia, and Emma, the lovely young ladies we met coming back from LA. They played endless hands of Uno with the UnSullen One, and were quite the resourceful travel partners. Ladies, you are quite the credit to your family.
* Being able to lock the door and sleep, only vaguely concerned about What Might Happen If I Close My Eyes.
* One’s own loo on the way back. The “shower” in our compartment hardly deserved the name, but there was a separate one on the bottom floor of every sleeper car, so keeping clean was an option. The private loo MORE than made up for any shower issues.
* The sound of the rails, which I quite enjoyed.
* Getting up and walking on the train is a good way to keep from getting any circulatory problems. Stretching is also possible, with a little care and thought. Which knocks out a lot of the physical misery of traveling, though the different pollen in different places can make one’s allergies flare unexpectedly. I think the UnSullen One is still sneezing from San Juan Capistrano’s burst of pollen.
* NOT BEING IN COACH. Having a little private space really made the difference between a pleasant trip and a voyage through Hell.
* Seeing the kids on the train platform, running toward me, and being rested enough to run for them.
NOT-SO-GOOD THINGS
* Trains are social, and there is a special class of aggressive drunks that resides upon them. It was difficult for me to ignore, because they will do just about anything to get your attention. (Thankfully, the private sleeper space was a refuge–and the UnSullen One has a variety of mischievious tricks perfect for rescuing me from aggressive drunks.) Meals in the dining car were also community-dining, so one’s dinner partners are unlikely to engage in silence at the table. Which can drain one’s emotional energy liek woah.
* The social aspect of trains also means that some people feel they can make judgments/comments about you if they don’t like your clothing or your comportment. Still, if this bothered me I would have never survived high school. I do think I deserve kudos for not shooting a few people the bird and a verbal smackdown.
* Seeing the smog bank over LA and thinking about what that does to people’s lungs. Ugh.
* Not thinking about taking my knitting with me. I could’ve finished a few things–but lugging them around might have been a difficulty.
* The constant motion didn’t bother me, but it does make some people ill. And there’s also the factor of being bumped around at high speed while one is in the narrow, narrow halls in the sleeper cars. I do have bruises, and we saw a couple of elderly men obviously on Coumadin or other blood thinners who were very, very bruised on their upper arms.
* Our crew on the way down to LA was full of very obviously unhappy people. Still, we shut our door and didn’t have to deal with them. With the exception of Larry the Parlor Car guy, who was uniformly pleasant and helpful, a bright spot in an otherwise sour-faced crew.
* Plenty of confusion on the way between LA and San Diego, compounded by sleeplessness and excitement. The first time one tries anything new is always stressful.
* The view of poverty. I am always acutely aware of this in cities anyway, but seeing so much of it from the rails is…it’s heartwrenching. We also saw plenty of migrant workers in the Salad Bowl fields, and that affected me profoundly. I am still very thoughtful about it.
* Being less than five minutes away from the Vancouver station, knowing someone was waiting to pick us up, and being stuck behind a bridge because river traffic has priority. ARGH. But it was, as I’ve said, less aggravation than flying. By an order of magnitude at LEAST.
* Creeping through smoke from several wildfires at ten miles an hour in the middle of the night. The smoke got into the train’s ventilation system and made sleeping problematic, which is probably why I was so tired in LA.
* We were in an older sleeping car coming back, so it wasn’t as nice as some of the newer ones. However, it was still (you guessed it) better than flying, and that’s a small quibble.
* Microwaved food all the ding-dang time. On the up side, though, the booze wasn’t bad, and roughly comparable to getting drinks at a lounge.
There are other things I could say, but this is a monster post already. Suffice to say I really, really enjoyed my trip, and I was glad not to fly. I’d take the train again in a heartbeat going down the West Coast, or within a reasonable number of miles from home. Anything further than that I’d probably have to fly, but I would exert myself mightily not to do so.
Thanks to everyone who gave me great train advice–especially the people who told me to upgrade, and whoever suggested WetNaps. Gods bless the Interwebs Advice Pool.
And yes…it’s good to be home.
The Monster Comi-Con Post
This post is pictureless, because I didn’t take my camera. It would have been just one more thing to keep track of, and since I had enough to keep track of and the UnSullen One was charged with keeping track of me, there was not a hand left over, so to speak.
I’ll just have to use words to paint a picture. Hee.
We got into San Diego at one in the morning on Friday, after a thirty-three (or so) hour train ride. (More about that tomorrow.) It was a cool night, but I felt greasy after so long on a train–really, train showers hardly deserve the name, though they’re better than anything an airplane could possibly come up with.
By two AM we were in our hotel room, and by two-fifteen I was out like a light. The morning dawned bright and sunny, and we wended our way down to the convention center (about eight blocks away) to check in with Alex, our favorite Orbit publicity guy.
Dear Reader, I was not prepared. Now, I’ve done DragonCon, so I thought I was reasonably well-equipped to handle this convention even if the UnSullen One left me to my own devices (which he was wise enough NOT to do, as it turned out.) DragonCon seemed more manageable. In contrast, ComiCon was a couple football fields worth of crowd (instead of just a single hotel lobby and assorted panel rooms full of crowd broken into manageable pieces.) The dealer’s room/exhibition hall was, quite frankly, a madhouse. I haven’t been pummeled like that since Plant and Page did their reunion tour and hit the first bars of Gallows Pole.
We managed to find the Orbit booth, and what did we see but Jacqueline Carey signing books? I almost lost all my air. I adore Jacqueline, and she gave me one of my very first cover quotes for Working For The Devil. We keep missing each other when she comes to the Beaverton Powell’s to sign, but this time we actually got to stand in the same room and chat for a wee bit once she was done signing. We didn’t get to go into any depth, but just being in the same room at the same time–FINALLY–was overwhelming to me. I did get to tell her how much Phedre meant to me, and how much I love her books, which was AWESOME with a side of AWESOME, covered in thick AWESOME SAUCE.
But she couldn’t stick around, and neither could I. I had a panel to get to–Eyes on the Present, about how we (the authors present) used the supernatural in our stories. Marjorie Liu, LA Banks, Kelley Armstrong and CE (Catie) Murphy were the stars; Justine Musk, Kate Brallier, and I were along for the ride. I think it went well. I was floored that both CE Murphy and LA Banks had heard of me, and Marjorie Liu said she read my Friday writing posts. *boggles* Holy CRAP.
There’s just something about one’s peers expressing approbation; it’s one of the best things in the world. And goddamn, LA Banks hugged me! And CE Murphy and I got along swimmingly–we both like to create trouble, it seems. Kate Brallier was a rock star, and Samantha Sommersby (the moderator) was very organized and very nice. All in all the panel went so smoothly–we could have gone, as Catie Murphy said, for a couple more hours.
The panel was taped, so you’ll be able to see the harpoon joke I made, and hear LA Banks talk about fish dreams and pregnancy tests. I’ll link to it as soon as it’s up.
Right after the panel we went to the autograph section of the convention, which was easily half a football field and jammed with people. We had a respectable line for two hours or so, during which I sat between Catie and Samantha, and I doubt much more fun could have been had by anyone. I got to see copies of the Hotter Than Hell anthology at last, and signed so many books my wrist began to cramp.
When that wound down, it was time for a short break, and Catie introduced me to Lanny Liu, who I would want to illustrate the second Steelflower book (when I can snatch enough time to write it) as well as the Hedgewitch series. Then it was back down to the Orbit booth to sign lots of Devil’s Right Hands for giveaway.
I was in the thick of signing when a man came up and told me he was a junior-high school teacher, and did I think DRH was appropriate for junior high schoolers? I blinked.
“Well, there’s graphic violence and some obscenities in it–” I hazard.
“Well, the violence is okay. What kind of obscenities are we talking about? Are they, like, on each page, or–”
This went on for five minutes, until Jacqueline Carey (bless her heart), who I hadn’t noticed was standing right there (since I was focusing so hard on each individual signing) finally said, nicely but firmly, “It’s a free book, for God’s sake. Just take it.”
Yep. You read that right. Jacqueline Carey saved my ass. MEGA SCORE!
I finally finished signing I-don’t-know-how-many books, not just DRH but some backlist too, provided by the awesome folks at Mysterious Galaxy (who rock the Casbah, by the way). The evening wound down in a comedy of errors that ended up with me missing dinner with the Harlequin folks, but everything worked out in enough time for me to see MaryElizabeth from Mysterious Galaxy (who is so sweet and wonderful, it’s hard to believe) at dinner, and afterward meet Alex for drinks. It’s fun to talk to other people in the industry. Half the “business” at conventions gets done in the bars, I swear. Or maybe more like three-quarters. That’s also where a lot of brainstorming happens.
I was told Saturday would be more intense than Friday, but I couldn’t imagine it. I finally fell into bed and passed out until I absolutely had to be up Saturday morning at 8, since I was signing at 10 in the Orbit booth. (This time it was copies of Night Shift and stock for Mysterious Galaxy.)
And Lordy, but it was a MADHOUSE. Saturday was, I suspect, the biggest day of the convention. The crowd was so intense in the exhibition hall that I had to literally hang on to the UnSullen One’s backpack so we wouldn’t lose each other. Saturday was also when the costumes came out to play, and boy howdy, people spent a lot of time and love on their costumes. I saw She-Ras, stormtroopers, X-Men (classic, comic, and movie), Jedi, little kids dressed as Yoda, lots of Mario Brothers and Zeldas and Links, plenty of Poison Ivys and at least two cross-dressing Power Girls, lots of classic and Dark Knight Jokers (though lots of the Dark Knight Jokers had unsmeared makeup, which was a head-tilting “Whuh?” moment), at least four Riddlers…and, dear Reader, were I to go on I could make a whole monster post just about the costumes.
I signed a lot of Night Shifts and then gave a podcast interview for Shaun Farrell of Adventures in Scifi Publishing.com (he’ll tell me when the interview goes live) during which I talked about publishing, Dante Valentine, open vs. closed series, and writing advice. And plotting and pantsing, and other things I’ve no doubt forgotten. I hope I didn’t sound like a moron.
After that it was time to bolt some breakfast, since the UnSullen One had been a total rock star and fetched them from the little restaurant inside the San Diego Courthouse, which serves food good enough for the Westin concierge to recommend. I was more than ready for lunch/breakfast/something solid, so we sat outside and watched the SCA combat demonstrations while scarfing. Incidentally, that’s when I got burned, I think–either there or during the walk back to the hotel slightly later, after we saw the art show and took a slow turn about the exhibition hall. That was the sum total of my non-working bit of the convention–I didn’t even get to hit any panels, we were going so fast most of the time.
We managed to get back to the hotel in time for Alex to take us to dinner. (He was pretty pleased at the volume of books signed.) I believe I’ve mentioned de’Medici in San Diego already, but ZOMG, Caesar salad dressing made AT YOUR TABLE. I was seriously feeling some heat exhaustion by then, or I would have totally ordered tableside flambee. *giggles madly*
Alex had another party to go to, and I begged off, because at that point my head was pounding, my tummy was upset, and I was in cold sweats and shaky-legged. Yep, the San Diego sun did me in. Fortunately, getting back to the hotel helped. The UnSullen One poured water down my throat, and after some Tylenol and a cool shower I crawled into bed, made sure the alarm was set for 4AM, and passed out so hard I doubt an earthquake could have awakened me.
Sunday morning we were up by 4, at the train station by 5:15, and on the train to Los Angeles to catch our connection by 6:15. And that was the sum of my ComiCon experience. It sounds a lot more organized than it actually was, considering it took the UnSullen One’s entire attention to navigate me from place to place and keep enough food and water in me to keep me from falling over in between signings–not to mention getting me back to the hotel for little things like changing clothes and sleeping.
And it wouldn’t be a Big ComiCon Post without a bulleted list or two, would it? So here’s the Good and Not-So-Good Things.
Good Things About Comi-Con:
* THE FANS! This is #1. It was awesome to be around so many people who wouldn’t think I was strange because I could list the reasons I love Claremont & Lee X-Men better than any other X-Men, or where I could argue Original Star Wars vs. Recent Star Wars with a random person in a crowd. And there were all the awesome fans who told me in person that they liked my books, or who could tell me how much they loved Japhrimel or Jace, or Jill vs. Dante. The fans totally make any con. Thank you, all of you.
* Finding out LA Banks and CE Murphy, not to mention Marjorie Liu, knew my name. GUH. Total dork squealy fangirl moments were had by Yours Truly.
* Pendragon Costumes. These guys rock all the way to the Casbah and back. I wonder if they’d do a Japhrimel coat?
* Speaking of costumes, did I mention they kicked ass? Especially the pink Darth Vaders, the Narutos, the Stargate peeps, the Darth Mauls…stop me…
* The Owlship from the upcoming Watchmen movie. You could TOUCH it. *dies*
* The lack of scuffles in a crowd of thousands. We were very well-behaved.
* Seeing Seth Green up close–no, I didn’t mug him, we just watched as he walked by.
* Waving back and forth with Jim Butcher–neither of us had time to stop, but we did wave. Hee.
* Signing until my wrist swelled up. I mean, that’s a problem any author is happy to have.
* The art show! Wow!
* The lovely folks of the San Diego PD, who directed traffic patiently and calmly. And the volunteers who gave their time to make the convention a success–they were everywhere, and they were uniformly calm, well-informed, and grinning ear-to-ear.
* Mysterious Galaxy! Best bookstore EVAR!
* The fifty zombie nurses wandering the streets of San Diego en masse, moaning and lurching.
* The Westin San Diego. The showers are FABULOUS, and the Heavenly Bed lived up to its name. Plus, the staff were awesome.
* Getting home and seeing my kidlings. They missed me, I missed them, and seeing them running toward me on the train platform was sweet beyond belief.
* Getting home and finding the house in pretty-good shape. The Muffin really worked hard on keeping things corralled while I was gone.
And the, well, Not So Good Things:
* Crowds. I really have trouble with crowds, and my fear of public speaking is intense. It helps to focus on one person at a time during signings, but still, that was stressful.
* The rubbish overflowing. On the other hand, it was good to see people didn’t just throw stuff wherever. There was remarkably little trash on the ground.
* Associated weirdness and rudeness, which was again, remarkably little considering the 150,000 people (minimum) there.
* Ticket scalpers. Come ON, guys.
* Overstimulated and overstressed toddlers. While I advocate the right of parents to include their kids in great experiences like conventions, I saw plenty of kids screaming because of the overstimulation. Kids don’t have the same endurance as grown-ups do for that sort of thing, and there’s a reason why I either leave mine at home or plan according to their energy and comfort levels. My radar pinged on several little people who could have gotten trampled/lost in the crush, but I didn’t see any really lost kids while I was there.
* The heat. It’s nobody’s fault, but I’m really sensitive to it. Heat exhaustion is NOT FUN. It was a relief to get home.
* My email inbox after five-six days of total nonconnectivity. *cries*
So there you have it. I’m sure I’m forgetting a LOT of stuff, but if I wrote everything that happened I’d be doing this post for a week. It’d be the War and Peace of convention posts.
I’m still exhausted, but nowhere near as exhausted as I would have been had I flown down there. Which brings me to tomorrow’s post: the Train Ride! It deserves a whole monster post of its own.
Stay tuned!
Home. Blank stare. Home.
I’m home. ComiCon was teh awesome, and the train ride there and back was lovely. I arrived home feeling very tired but not so-exhausted-the-body-gets-sick. The Muffin remarked that I looked a lot better than I usually do after a long trip that involves signings.
So tomorrow I’m going to blog about the madness that was ComiCon, and on Thursday it will be time to write about the train ride. There was a podcast interview that should be up soon, and the panel I was on–Eyes On The Present–was taped, so I’ll see if I can find that hanging around the web somewhere.
In the meantime, I put a chicken in the crock pot and am about to fix myself some coffee. I was aching for some decent espresso and some biscotti yesterday on the train like you would not BELIEVE.
Anyway, I’m still exhausted and my brain is pretty much sucked clean–so clean that I’m having difficulty typing, of all things. Ugh. So I’ll close for now. Just wanted to let everyone know I’m safely back at home.
Two things I can safely express about the trip, though: train rides are awesome but bumpy, I’ve got bruises in places I didn’t know I HAD; and ZOMG ComiCon is BIG. I heard there were 150,000 people there, and I’m sure that doesn’t count the people who were trying to scalp tickets ($600 was the going price, I was told, and people were willing to pay a little less than that to “borrow” or “rent” a badge.) There had to have been thousands of people in the dealer’s room alone, even with plenty of people attending panels, taking a break, sitting outside to watch the SCA combats, or just generally milling around.
Crowds give me headaches, but the writer in me was fascinated by all sorts of behavior.
I also got some pretty bad heat exhaustion Saturday. That San Diego sun is fierce. I didn’t spend a huge time outside–fifteen minutes or so to eat a breakfast burrito, forty-five minutes for an interview, and fifteen-twenty minutes to walk to the convention center from the hotel, another fifteen-twenty to walk back. But apparently that was enough to burn me and knock me out completely. I drank a lot of water, took some Tylenol and a cool shower, and went to bed. Thankfully, I bounced back enough to make my six AM train the next morning, but I still feel a little warm and discombobulated.
Oh, and last thing: diMedici in San Diego? AWESOME. They do Caesar salad–they mix the dressing up RIGHT AT YOUR TABLE. ZOMG. So good. Their fettuccine Bolognese wasn’t half bad either.
Tomorrow, dear Readers, I’ll tell you about ComiCon. But for right now it’s good to be home. I think I’m going to go hug my kids. Again.
Comi-Con Or Bust
All right! Posting will be spotty (or nonexistent) while I’m in San Diego for the organised madness known as ComiCon. While I’m gone, here’s something you might like: check out The Mammoth Book of Vampire Romance, shipping now, which has two stories by Yours Truly in it.
* A Standup Dame: Jack Becker took the wrong case and woke up dead. Now he’s got to solve his own murder, and his only ace in the hole is his smartmouth secretary.
Every dead gumshoe should be so lucky…
* Coming Home: Liana Spocarelli’s come home to Saint City. She’s got a Nichtvren Master to kill, another sexy Nichtvren to keep off her back, and a visit to her foster mother to fit in. Life isn’t simple for a demon-trained Magi.
Especially when your foster mother is named Danny Valentine…
Enjoy! And very, very soon I’ll have good news about Selene and Nikolai. Like, really good news…
ComiCon Ho!
