WorldCon Pondering

WorldCon.

I'm sitting here now and I honestly have no idea where to begin.

There were the writers I met like Paul Genesse, and Blake Charlton, and Jeremiah Tolbert, and Brad Beaulieu and (the lovely) Kelly Swails. And then there were my old on-line pals-- people I've known for a long time and called friends even though we'd never met until the con. People like Jenny Rappaport, and Tony Frazier, and Diana Rowland, and J.J. Adams, and Eric James Stone, and Alethea Kontis, and all the rest of the Codexii. And there was Mary, who won the Campbell. And then there was the supremely talented Jeremey Lewis who wrote Staked (buy it, love it) and was nice enough to pal around with me for most of the convention. (I'm going to email you soon, Jeremy; I finished your book on the flight home.)

And then there was Jay Lake, who is quite obviously brilliant and can talk in depth about an astonishing number of subjects while eating Chinese food. And there is Cat Rambo, who is neither feline nor wears bullet belts criss-crossed across her chest.

And there is more. But that's for another post.