Off to Readercon
Tomorrow, bright and early, I'm off to Massachusetts to attend Readercon 20 along with my Canadian compadres Simon Strantzas and Ian Rogers. I confess to being pretty eager about it. This conference comes at the perfect time, as I've just finished scouring the proofs of The Darkly Splendid Realm with a fine tooth comb and am now more than happy to simply hang out and talk shop with friends both old and new.
Barring any unforeseen detours, strip searches at the the U.S./Canadian border, or traffic jams, I'm hoping that our party will be at the hotel in time to catch Laird Barron, Caitlin R. Kiernan and Ellen Datlow reading from and discussing the forthcoming Lovecraft Unbound anthology. I'm also very much looking forward to Saturday's panels on short horror fiction, and another later that day that will examine the question "Is all fiction inherently evil?" But to be honest, I've no idea where we'll be at or what we'll be getting up to over the weekend. Frankly, this sits just fine with me. I've never been one for strict itineraries.
If you happen to be attending Readercon, please do come up and introduce yourself. I'd like to meet you and I'll even have some swag to offer: some chapboooks (including a handful of copies of Primeval Wood as well as a special Readercon-only publication, courtesy of the notorious Simon S.), and some handsome cards that my lovely wife did up to announce The Darkly Splendid Realm. You'll definitely want one of these, since the cards offer a preview of the incredible cover art that Harry O. Morris has done for the book.
I hope to have much to report come Monday. In the meantime, I'm off to fill my suitcase with books, pens, paper...and maybe a change of clothes if there's space.
2 comments:
Here's what I foresee happening on the way..
The car gets a flat. We hop out. Richard takes a look. He returns greasy, like a mechanic.
"Well, you've blown two tires and only have one spare. It looks like you're stuck."
Simon laughs.
"We're not stuck, rabbit." He pulls out a gun. "You're stuck."
Flash forward to the car moving, Richard holding the axle of the missing wheel and running in its place.
From some small experience, friend, I would not recommend it. If pushed he might rather fashion a wholly new vehicle made from airs of that Wholly Other Place. The results are always.. unpleasant.
When the farmer and his horses didn't show that night to bring us up to the clearing, the cart was pushed instead by origami men, shedding flour into the wind, their faces the hovering stubs of candle-ends. I remember most Richard sitting comfortably upon the old trap, and Holly's screams.
Jim
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