Last Slice of Pi

It was the last slice of Pi, the final incarnation of the Friendliest Little Convention in New England. Folks came from far and wide to help celebrate this sweet little gem. Why it was the last is a long and complex story, having to do with how conventions are made, and much like sausages and laws, you probably don’t want to know. But to quote from the Con Chair’s message in the con book, “Even as Pi-Con has grown and gotten better, other changes have occurred to make the event more difficult to run. A lack of viable venues caused Pi-Con to move from the Pioneer Valley into Connecticut which altered the local focus of the event. The staff has become more and more geographically diverse, which makes meetings more difficult. This year’s staff lives among 5 different states….Sometimes it is important to know when you have reached your limit.” Sad, but wise.

Kate Kaynak and Walter Hunt discuss Gods of Other Worlds

I rode down with Kate Kaynak, writer and publisher, founder of Spencer Hill Press and Tulip Publishing, and one tough cookie. She has an advanced degree in Psychology, and has travelled all over the world. I benefitted from her wisdom during the ride. Kate had the advantage of the example of her mom, who found herself left single with two young children, no job, minimal education, and she pulled herself up by the bootstraps. Kate’s brother films documentaries in exotic places under edgy circumstances, so the fearless and full-speed-ahead runs in the family. I absorbed her self-confidence like a pale leaf greening towards the sun. Thanks, Kate!

Tanya Huff and Trisha Wooldridge discussing How Magic Works

We got there a day early because Broad Universe was doing a Writers Workshop as a kind of intro to the con. We did Friday programming up until the con proper started at 6pm. Guest of Honor Tanya Huff made opening remarks at 9am, and then Susan Hanniford Crowley and I did a writer’s improv game in which participants drew several cards with images for cues, and tried to construct a story from them. After writing for several minutes, we shared and talked about the process of inspiration and whether having restrictions helps, hurts, and how. The discussion was lively, and the shared work interesting. One of the participants was author Bill Freedman, who came up with a story about Baa the Sheep being turned into the stuffing for a teddy bear. Never has cuddly been rendered so grim.

The workshops included topics like “Promotion for Authors”, “World Building”, “Building Strong Characters”, as well as “Writing Sick and Twisted Characters”. One cool idea was a workshop given by Trisha Wooldridge (former Broad Universe president and past Pi-Con Guest of Awesome) on using the Tarot to inspire creative ideas. I did my “Reading Your Work Aloud” gig, which went very well. One of the attendees went forth to give a knock-out reading at the Broad Universe RFR later in the con. It was her first, and she nailed it. I take some humble credit for helping.

Friday night was the release party for my latest, Awake Chimera, hosted by Broad Universe. The Barfleet crew, known for their inspired and devastating mixology, was staying in rooms right across the hall from us. They came over for the food. Ours was an open party with only modest beverages, but made up for it gloriously with such treats as prosciutto-wrapped melon, garlic olives, and an assortment of dips, spreads, and savory toasts. The traffic was steady — people came for the food and stayed for the conversation, which was lively and loud. Oh yes, and I sold lots of copies of my book. The party was an unqualified success.

Awake Chimera release party with yours truly, Justine Graykin, Fantastic Books publisher and dealer Ian Strock, and cover artist Angi Shearstone.

After the party we wandered down the hall to a closed party whose central attractants were bloody marys, homemade coffee liqueurs, and at midnight, the assembling of Rocket Fuel, a concoction of water, frozen lemonade concentrate, grain alcohol and dry ice. Very entertaining. As the Rocket Fuel boiled away into slush, the party dwindled into mostly SMOFs, the grizzled veteran con organizers of area SF cons over the years, such as iCon. I sipped my alcoholic slushy and listened to them reminisce and swap horror stories.

The awesome Vikki Ciaffone

Saturday was a marathon. I had no fewer than 6 panels, plus attending the Broad Universe Rapid-Fire reading and a Barfleet meeting. It was a blur. Unfortunately, I don’t remember many of the scintillating details, although I recall that I and my fellow panelists were pretty damn brilliant, the audiences were good, and there weren’t any failures. We started out with a panel called “Happy Books Suck”, which I had proposed based on a comment by a fellow librarian. We were supposed to be discussing whether a book necessarily needs to be grim and serious to be good, and whether humor and optimism have a place in great literature. I recall Gordon Linzner (founder of Space and Time magazine) was on the panel, as well as Aussie author D.L. Carter. But for the life of me, what I remember was moderator and Guest of Aweome Vikki Ciaffone warning ubergeek Mario Di Giacomo (known for the generosity with which he shares his erudite opinions) not to take over the panel, and then promptly taking over the panel herself.

Running the Galactic Empire with, appropriately enough, Bill Freedman, George Claxton, Ari Alpert and Grant Carrington.

The high point for me was the Religion, Skepticism, and Atheism in SF Fandom panel, which I moderated with Walter Hunt and Jeff Warner. We strayed from fandom and waded far into the deepest tar pits of religious philosophy and skepticism. Walter has a strong theistic streak (being a Mason) and argued his points brilliantly. Jeff, who is a hard-core materialist atheist, balanced him out, with me, a spiritual atheist (and in fact, that was the title of a later panel I was on) toggling in between. We had some great participation from the audience, one of whom, towards the end, pointed out that as interesting as this all was, we weren’t talking much about SF or fandom, and got I steered back on topic for at least the last few minutes. I enjoyed the discussion so much it almost made up for the fact that I (once again!!) missed Jennifer Pelland doing her belly dancing demonstration. And if you think a belly dancing demonstration is a minor loss, you’ve never seen Jen dance.

Nature of Gender panel, with Suzanne Reynolds-Alpert, Justine Graykin, David Larochelle, and Micah Schneider

In the course of that day I also dealt with the Nature of Gender with David Larochelle (who I always look forward to seeing at cons), Suzanne Reynolds-Alpert (a fellow Broad) and Micah Schneider (who worked on the first Pi-Con and has held just about every position possible on Arisia programming). Also, as I mentioned, The Spiritual Atheist, which didn’t go as well as I’d hoped. I’d looked forward eagerly to the panel, it being a topic near and dear to me, and I was delighted to be on it with Ari Alpert, with whom I have sparred in the past, Kate Kaynak, whose praises I have already sung, and Jen Pelland, whose sharp wit and tongue are as smooth as her dance moves. D.L. Carter was moderating, and she kind of took things in a direction I didn’t really expect.

It might have been just that it was my second to last panel of the day, I hadn’t yet had supper and was rapidly burning out, but when I was cut off for the third time without being able to finish my thought, I got a little grumpy. Well, maybe a lot grumpy. Sorry, Dee.

Shuvom Ghose: Interpreting the Critique

One of my big regrets Saturday was that the panel on Limiting Narrative Viewpoint, moderated by Shuvom Ghose, came when I was too exhausted to do it justice. I’d been on a panel with Shuvom earlier (“I Don’t Mean to Offend”, about offensive language, how to avoid it, react to it, deal with it, and be a good ally). I knew he was a Libertarian who writes military SF, which scared me a little, but my experience with him on the “Offend” panel was pretty positive. Then, dear god. He comes in to the Narrative panel with handouts, posters, chocolate and a game plan. He was organized, focused, and had way more energy than any of the rest of us. His plan would have succeeded far better if it hadn’t been 8 o’clock at night after a long day. We didn’t do him justice. Even so, it was a good discussion of the role of Point of View and how it affects storytelling. I hope I have a chance to panel with Shuvom again some day when I’m more fresh.

Mario Di Giacomo, Hugh Casey, and Frank Ney want bra-a-a-i-i-ns!

Saturday night was, of course, Barfleet. I’ve raved enough about Barfleet in the past, so leave us just say they did not disappoint. I have been promoted, and am now an ensign with dog tags to prove it. I spent a good deal of the party minding the door and the cash box, but did get let out for the Safety Dance. My two sons were down for the con with their friend Tate, who was eager to check out Barfleet. My younger is not yet of drinking age, and so sought out the Cards Against Humanity marathon. #1 son old enough, but he does not drink (changeling?). He came along with Tate to check it out and be a designated driver of sorts. As it turned out, this was a good thing. I lectured Tate that he needed to drink a cup of water in between each alcoholic drink, but did he listen? Medical (the bartenders) were featuring The Sonic Screwdriver and the Hurricane Irene (in honor of 6Pi-Con, a.k.a. Hurricon), both of which were delicious and went down dangerously easily. Tate also made certain to sample the other liquid delicacies, including (of course) the Horta, a special Summer Horta which was remarkably awful, and the Horpedo, which was not too bad, especially as a chaser for a truly deadly concoction the Captain coerced me into sampling, which was essentially grain alcohol infused with ghost peppers. A thimbleful is enough to make you want to go down on a fire hose at full bore. It is Satan’s own spit.

Meanwhile, in another part of the hotel, the Cards Against Humanity marathon.

Anyway, #1 son watched the show (always entertaining) and Tate. At one point when the Captain was offering up something wonderfully hazardous, #1 son suggested it might not be a good idea for Tate to partake. The Captain, wisely, nodded and agreed. Tate did not appreciate this at the time. He did later. I saw them leaving the party, Tate in roaring good spirits, #1 son patiently steering him away from walls and other people. A rite of passage safely negotiated, achievement unlocked, thanks to Barfleet.

Michael Whitehouse auctions off a plush version of Crikey

Sunday was largely taken up with End Of Con stuff. There was the usual last day frantic rush to get checked out of the room and close out the BU dealer’s table while still attending panels and events. I was staying an extra day, which took some of the pressure off. I was on the Guest of Awesome reunion panel with Vikki Ciaffone (9Pi-Con), Trisha Wooldridge (7Pi-Con), and to my delight, Hugh Casey (5Pi-Con). Hugh is recovering from a battle with cancer and looked damn good in spite of it. He made it to 9Pi-Con to enjoy the last slice of Pi, much to everyone’s joy. He was the Guest of Awesome at my first Pi-Con, and I fondly remember paneling with him.

A Shmoo (but not THE Shmoo).

At the closing ceremonies the stock of T shirts from cons past were given out and mascots were auctioned off. Except for Croaker and the Shmoo. Croaker is a flat, desiccated frog found while moving furniture for an event at the first Pi-Con. The Shmoo is an abstract polished chunk of wood sculpture found on the side of the road on the way to Pi-Con one year. Both became a part of Pi-Con legend, as these things do.

And so, with much sniffling and hugs, folks departed from the Last Pi-Con. We’ll all meet again at other cons, of course, but this day marked the passing of something unique. Each con has its own character, and Pi-Con truly was friendly, accessible, and a particularly pleasing shade of geek.

Guest of Awesome Reunion panel with Trisha Wooldridge, Justine Graykin, Vikki Ciaffone, and Hugh Casey, who left his DNA all over Pi-Con. Let him explain it.

A few final shout-outs to folks. Kudos to Michael Whitehouse whose dogged determination kept Pi-Con going for one last time; to Lisa Hagar for keeping it all on course when the wheels began wobbling wildly; to Terry Franklin for once again feeding us and providing con fuel (and the customary delicious pie) in the Consuite; to Inanna Arthen for her Herculean efforts, designing the con book, and the final T-shirt, plus managing the nightmare juggling act of programming; Tom Traina for Heading Main Tent Events and generally using his superpowers for good and not evil; and David Silber for Tech Rescue. Hats off to all the folks who made this possible.

Also, my own grateful thanks to Trisha Wooldridge, Scott Wooldridge (husband of awesome), Suzanne Reynolds-Alpert, Angi Shearstone, and Kristi Petersen Schoonover for making my release party an amazing success, as well as to Broad Universe (Broads rock!). Thanks to Lori Claxton for photojournalism (a lot of these are hers) and for the bookmark (I drew “Justice”). Apologies to all the folks I should have recognized, but didn’t. My memory is about as sharp as butter. I’m embarrassed to confess how often I smile and greet faces that are naggingly familiar, but just won’t pair up with names and circumstances. Apologies also to Mario Di Giacomo, who I meant to find some time to visit with, and it just didn’t happen. May I say I absolutely adored your bio in the con book. In fact, I didn’t get as much time as I would have wanted with a whole host of folks that I only see at cons, like the irreverent but never irrelevant Bill Freedman, Debi Chowdhury (of Steampunk Tea and Masquerade fame), David Larochelle, Jen Pelland, Roberta Rogow (the Filk Queen), and Pete Sloan of Space Cadets a.k.a. Tsiolkovsky’s Stepchildren (they throw the awesome SF-themed parties at Arisia), gadget-maker and prop-designer extraordinaire. And my fellow crewmates of the UBS Shameless. Someday I hope to spend some time hanging with you, and to be more useful at an event than I was here. Someday.

Baby jousting with Michael Whitehouse and Matthew Winn. Geek dads are awesome.

And special thanks to Jeff Warner, Ops Head, triple threat and Ninja SMOF, for giving me the chance to ease the transition into Mundania and going out of his way to get me home while suffering the creeping onslaught of con crud. Get well soon.  You got cons to go to, science to celebrate, and fandom to be secretly the master of.

Due to personal reasons, I won’t be attending another convention any time soon. But this was one glorious note to go out on. So long, and thanks for all the Pi.

Debi Chowdhury en masque

Arisia 2015

Space Cadets / Tsiolkovsky’s Stepchildren

It was a bit like a hyperspace luge. The Arisia SF/Fantasy convention in Boston sold a record 4000 badges. Four days of non-stop events, some of which weren’t even on the program. Just sitting in the lobby taking in the costumes is a show in itself. To paraphrase BarFleet, if you aren’t staff, you’re entertainment.

This is the thirty-three-ring circus they call a convention. Choose your own adventure. I took advantage of the opportunity to touch base with folks I never see at any other time. Of course it is a bit like passing someone on escalators going in opposite directions; you barely have time to shout “Hey! Great to see you!” before you each get whisked away. One or both of you are likely on your way to a panel, event, or meeting, running late. You promise to catch up later, and you never do. Like, for example, I realized as we were breaking down the table at the end of the con that I never had a chance to check out Stephen Wilk’s follow-up to his Grinch Beowulf. I still have the note he left at the Broad Universe table, but I can’t find the contact info. Stephen, if you read this, I am so sorry and sincerely hope you are planning on attending Boskone. At Boskone, a person can actually get some work done. Arisia is insanity.

I was mostly on science track panels this year, which suited me fine. I suspect that any person of the female persuasion who can talk intelligently on matters scientific is a precious commodity to con programming. They want gender balance whenever possible, and this can be tough. I have an omnivorous interest in most branches of science, which is necessary to effective world-building in SF.  It sure doesn’t hurt when writing Fantasy, either, but that’s a different panel.  In fact, it was a panel I attended called “The Ecology of Fantasy Worlds.”  The description was sweet: “Magic is not a get-out-of-logic-free card.”  I wish I could have recorded it for my husband to play to his students who think that writing Fantasy is easy because you can make everything up.

The Cosmos panel was a mix of science and society, contrasting Sagan’s version with DeGrasse Tyson’s reboot. It was moderated by Gordon Linzner, editor emeritus of Space and Time Magazine, whom I recall from my first Arisia five years ago. He, James D. Macdonald and I sat around in an empty solo reading room telling each other duck jokes while waiting for an audience that never showed up (we were on the 10th floor in the hotel with the wonky elevators). Science and society have gone through some pretty radical changes during the time between the first and second Cosmos dynasties, and we talked about the difference both in the style of the hosts and the issues they addressed in their approach to the show.

“For Science”, moderated by the Science Babe, was lively, if somewhat unfocused. We weren’t entirely clear on parameters of the topic, and let the discussion stray where it wanted to go, which seemed to suit everyone just fine. It was supposed to be about the risks taken and sacrifices made in the name of science (I came ready to talk about Wolf Vishniac) and Science Babe opened with sharing her own adventures testing pet meds on herself. But then we strayed into informed consent, risk aversion in society, and the complexity of issues such as antibiotic overuse and genetically modified organisms.

My third panel, “Where the Hell is Everyone”, in which we tossed around the so-called Fermi Paradox, was remarkably well-attended for a Monday morning. The panel dispensed with the topic in the first fifteen minutes, and so opened it up to the audience to keep the discussion going. Personally, I think the Fermi Paradox is bogus, and the Drake equation it is based on is full of values which have been pulled straight out of somebody’s assumptions, the biggest and most obvious being that intelligent life is going to manifest itself the same way on other worlds that it did among Homo Sapiens, that is, in the development of technology. But that’s a rant for a different blog.

Only three panels, and yet it seemed like I was forever running to get somewhere. Part of what ate up my time was BarFleet. I got recruited to be part of the crew this year. On the one hand, that gave me a splendid opportunity to see how putting together a con party works from the inside. On the other hand, I worked more and drank less than I might have liked. On the third hand, drinking less was probably good for me. I’ve always admired this outfit, but never appreciated how much goes into putting on a BarFleet event. I was briefed on all the safety precautions they take to make sure their guests are safe. Unattended drinks are dumped (never mind, just go get another one — it isn’t like you paid for it) to avoid the possibility of some nefarious nogoodnik dosing it. We are to keep an eye out for excessive inebriation, and if needed, will make sure the person gets to a safe place to sleep it off. We check in with anyone getting paid particular attention by another guest to make sure that attention is welcome. If not, we intervene. Politely, of course.

So it makes me more than a little frustrated that certain individuals in high places consider BarFleet to be trouble, and have targeted them to be shut down given any excuse. It has happened in years past, under circumstances that are suspect at best. This year, the crew were in charge not only of their own party, but of the Nauticon party as well. And they were short-handed due to illness and other factors. And the Captain wasn’t in perfect health, himself. Fortunately, they had a bunch of new recruits, myself included, but we were untrained cadets. So, two parties to put on with a bunch of bumbling newbs in a hotel that is out to get them.

Not only did they pull it off without getting shut down, but they broke even on expenses. Yes, that’s another thing. The UBS Shameless does not earn a pile of money doing this. The raffle is for charity (This year the proceeds went, once again, to Operation Hammond, “Nerds helping nerds in times of need,” certified EMTs that work the con seeing to the health and safety of the attendees, since last year’s shut down bolloxed the raffle.) and the donations and revenue from cup sales covers costs maybe. So it was with immense satisfaction at the end of the night to declare both parties a success which paid for itself.

After doing the Safety Dance sober at BarFleet, I had the pleasure of doing it in a more traditional frame of mind at Space Cadets (a.k.a. Tsiolkovsky’s Stepchildren). These guys prep all year and create a party atmosphere that you would not believe. This year’s theme was Dr. Who and they converted the hotel room into a TARDIS. The drinks were wickedly delicious, also Who themed. And although they don’t have a DJ on board, the music was respectable. Last year’s theme was DS9 and they recreated Quark’s Bar with the centerpiece of a Dabo table. This year’s TARDIS centerpiece was an impressive structure with interactive dials and switches. Absolutely delightful. And the theme brought out the inevitable Doctor variations. I wished I could have stayed longer, but I had to get back to the Broad Universe party.

The Broad Universe party was in my room, and went on as long as the food lasted. No alcohol, but this was where to go to eat. Salmon sandwiches, melon wrapped in prosciutto, that sort of thing. And great conversation. It was the one opportunity I had to actually talk to people. As much as I love to dance, having no music at a party can be a distinct advantage. The Pi-Con Pie party was like that. An excellent selection of pies, and interesting people. Pi-Con will be happening July 31 – August 2, and they have a new hotel, the Sheraton Hotel at Bradley Airport, Windsor Locks, CT. I haven’t seen the location yet, but it couldn’t be easier to get to. Inexpensive, too, at only $99 a night. I hear the hotel itself is a grand place to have a convention, lots of room, and Pi-Con is planning expanded programming to fill it. This is going to include a Writer’s Workshop on Friday. Check out their website for more details. If you are looking for a new convention to try out, this is it. Friendliest little con in the northeast. Like Arisia, only not as likely to cause brain damage.

As always I must tip my hat to the staff of the con suite and the Green Room, with special thanks to Tom Traina to whom I shall be eternally grateful for procuring coffee for me at a critical moment. Also, a special shout-out to the guy wrangling the the crowds of cranky, exhausted vendors all trying to get through the loading dock at the same time after the Dealers Room closed. This hero kept things moving smoothly with grace under pressure, in the face of rudeness and high stress, all without blowing his own cool (at least while I was there). Kudos.

OctoPi: the Face-Time Continuum

From the Concardia set designed by Michael Whitehouse.

I’ve been fond of Pi-Con since I first discovered this friendly little con held in Enfield, CT.  Some of my best con experiences have been there, or on route there.  Also, some of my most memorable experiences (e.g., Hurricon).  Being invited to 8Pi-Con as their “Guest of Awesome” was surprising and flattering, so I was especially looking forward to it this year.  And, once again, they managed to out-do themselves with friendliness, hospitality, and intellectual chocolate.

Our hosts made sure everyone felt welcome — no matter who they were or what their tastes might be. Photo courtesy Lori Claxton

A newbie to Pi-Con came to the post-con feedback session and spoke up to say how much he enjoyed the con.  He said he was nervous at first, but was welcomed almost instantly and swept up in the experience.  “It isn’t as all cliquish,” he said.  And I think that may be one of the most important things that characterizes Pi-Con.  If there’s a knot of folks talking about something, and you wander over, it isn’t like what I’ve experienced at some cons, where you’re given a fishy, evaluating eye, being judged whether you are qualified to join the conversation.  Instead, you are much more likely to get noticed and dragged in with eager inclusion.  Pi-Con is the convention equivalent of a conga line.  Everybody is having a ball, and they’ll pull you out of your chair or your spot in the shadows against the wall and cheer you into the line.

As Guest of Awesome, I got included in the planning stages this year.  I helped out here and there over the prior weeks, not doing all that much.  Then I saw the frantic posts just before the con as they wracked their collective brains trying to figure out how to transport some large pieces of equipment from their storage facility in Somerville, MA to the con.  I hate driving anywhere within nuclear blast distance of Boston, but realized they were in a pickle and I could help.  So I ended up going down a day early to meet a couple of the staff folk and get seven-foot grids strapped to the roof of my car and every spare inch inside packed with boxes and sound equipment.  It all went smoothly and I made it to the hotel by nine o’clock Thursday evening.

photo courtesy Lisa Amowitz

I was rooming with last year’s Pi-Con Guest of Awesome, Broad Universe president Trisha Wooldridge (she’s also a senior editor for Spencer Hill Press and a published writer).  So there was an awful lot of awesome in that room.  What made it even grander was that we were in Rm. 221.  Of course a “B” had to be added to it.  (And, in classic Pi-Con spirit, when someone on the staff noticed this, they had to renumber the Board Room next door as “221A”.)

Trisha and I were joined by Lisa Amowitz, another author with Spencer Hill and a panelist at the convention.  Trisha and Lisa were there early, too, participating in a publisher’s retreat in the same hotel.  So we settled in the room that evening together, staying up until one am drinking Scotch and playing Cards Against Humanity.

Stories for every taste and disposition, from Broad Universe and Spencer Hill Press

The first day of a con is like when the circus comes to town.  Everything is exciting as the roustabouts set up the tents and the animals roar and trumpet (in our case, it was vendors setting up shop and tech people roaring and trumpeting at one another (and at con chair Jeff Warner) making sure sound systems worked and rooms had the equipment presenters needed.  By mid-afternoon the registration table was in place and attendees were starting to arrive.  Some panelists rolled in at the last minute.  I was out for a stroll and encountered David Larochelle driving in circles in the parking lot searching for a space less than an hour before his “How to Think Good” panel (with Ari Alpert, Carl Fink and Dr. James Prego; I checked out the panel and it was good indeed, the discussion centering around common errors in thinking and how to use the methodologies of science to correct them.)

Broad Universe knows how to feed a party. Photo courtesy Kristi Petersen Schoonover

There are, of course parties, as there are at any con worth its salt.  The place to be Friday night was the Broad Universe party ( held in our room in Dealer’s Row which doubled as the Broad Universe and Spencer Hill Press outlet).  Heads up, people:  If you ever go to a con and see that Broad Universe is having a party, you must go and bring your appetite.  They always have the best food.  No bowls of taco chips and salsa from a jar; no supermarket trays of boring veggies and dip.  BU offers things like Oreo cookie cheesecakes, cucumber sandwiches, pickled asparagus, eggplant dip, and other delicacies.  And chocolate.  Always chocolate, in assorted varieties, with and without nuts.  Actually, there are always nuts.  They are generally in charge of the room.

At one point we had a magician named Jeff Kempton pop in.  He was with the burlesque show going on the “main tent”, but ended up coming back to the BU party after his gig to wow us with his tricks and comic patter.  Should you ever need a magician, he does not have a website, but you can contact him by email at magicmanjeff@yahoo.com.

Overheard: “The wifi in my dress doesn’t work.” This was the dress. And she got it to work. Fabulous frock designed and worn by Artist Guest of Honor, Sarah Morrison.

My schedule was rather a marathon, so I didn’t have the opportunity to attend a lot of the events and panels going on, like mask-making, the drum circle, filking, costuming, the sari-wrapping workshop, and belly-dancing for nerds, not to mention the other vendors selling cool books, outfits, dorkware and gear.  For a small con, it was amazing all the stuff going on.

At 11am on Saturday I had the privilege of doing an interview with Allen Steele, the writer guest of honor who, aside from being a prolific and multiple award-winning author, is a tireless promoter of the human exploration of space.  He was easy to interview.  I just needed to wind him up and let him go.  I fed him the topics he loves to discuss: Space, first contact, and how we are going to get there.  With the US government backing away from space in an appalling abdication of intelligent leadership responsibility, it will fall to the private sector and perhaps cooperative ventures among various other governments to get the job done.  First contact may be risky (Stephen Hawking has warned that it may not go at all well for us) but Allen is cautiously optimistic.

We had a few minutes left at the end of the hour, so I mentioned that Allen had done a short stint as a Washington correspondent back in the 80s, and asked him what he took away from that.  He grinned, talked a bit about how he arrived there with high hopes, only to beat a hasty retreat.  Then he told us the story of how his picture ended up on the front page of the newspaper as he shuffled past the White House, apparently bent into the teeth of a wild winter storm going on at the time.  What the photographer did not know was that Allen was not fighting against the wind, but fighting for his life, attempting to give himself the Heimlich maneuver after wolfing down too quickly a hot dog purchased from a street vendor.  (He succeeded, which why he lives to tell the tale.)

Allen Steele, Vikki Ciaffone, Catt Kingsgrave and Grant Carrington talking about Blue Collar Science Fiction. Photo courtesy Lori Claxton

After that great beginning, I went on to a blur of panels and events, including the Broad Universe Rapid Fire Reading (which I recorded for a future BroadPod podcast) and the Panel in the Pool, which is a tradition moderated by Jeff Warner and set literally in the hotel pool with participants in bathing suits.  Watery subjects are discussed, this time the remarkable news, recently released, about Ctenophores or comb jellyfish, which it turns out aren’t really jellyfish at all.  In fact, genomic sequencing reveals that they are from a different branch of the Earthly evolutionary tree altogether.  Among other things that make them remarkable, they have evolved a nervous system that uses a completely different chemical language, which developed independently from the rest of the animal kingdom.

Alligator attack. Photo courtesy of Kristi Petersen Schoonover

We spent a happy hour splashing in the pool and discussing the implications for alien life forms and where in the solar system (or indeed in the universe) we may be likely to find alien life.  Crikey the alligator, as is also the tradition, lurked nearby in the bushes, but was silent on the subject.  He was waiting.  To attack.

The elegant Steampunk Tea, to which I had been invited, was directly after the Panel in the Pool, so I wrapped myself in my Dr. Who bathrobe and hustled on over.  I felt terribly out of place among all the posh costumes and assorted frippery, but in good Pi-Con form, I was made to feel welcome by organizer Deb Chowdhury and the experts who were serving proper cups of tea to go with our scones, fruit and clotted cream.  I tried not to drip on the scones.

Incidentally, I owe a great debt to Jeff Warner.  He knows why.

George William Claxton, Vikki Ciaffone, ML Brennan and Roberta Rogow talk about Uncle Abdul’s Planet Emporium. Photo courtesy Lori Claxton

My panels all went well, with interested and engaged audiences (and we didn’t have to adjourn to the bar once due to the members of the panel outnumbering the audience, as is con protocol).  Thanks to Lisa Evans, Suzanne Reynolds-Alpert, Kate Kaynak, Dr. James Prego, Grant Carrington, Allen Steele, Mario Di Giacomo, Ellen Larson, and Michelle Wexelblat who contributed their opinions and expertise to those conversations.  Our last one for Saturday was “Asexuality: the Ultimate Taboo?” which took place at 9 that evening.  I was pessimistic about the attendance, seeing as we were up against “Machinery of Joy”, a panel on robot sex, with Grant Carrington, Jennifer Pelland and George W. Claxton, very stiff competition indeed (ahem).  Ellen, Michelle and I sat at the table, gloomily resigned to being upstaged, then watched in astonishment as the room began to fill up.  To our amazement it was the other panel that had to give up and adjourn for lack of interest.  Dear me.  I did feel badly for Jen, George and Grant, but I must confess, our victory was sweet.  What was even better though, was what happened at the panel.  It was one of those rare and wonderful occasions where people had come, not knowing quite why or what to expect, and left with profound insights about themselves and others.

TJ Wooldridge reading from her latest release, “Silent Starsong”, at the Broad Universe Rapid Fire Reading. Photo courtesy Lori Claxton

I know I learned a lot, and was frankly stunned to find out just how many people out there identify as, or at least can relate to some aspect of being asexual.  Individuals admitted to feeling awkward and pressured into entering into sexual relationships with partners they are romantically involved with, even though they are far more into it for the love and companionship than for the sex.  It’s expected; if you don’t desire someone physically, they presume it isn’t “true love.”  I honestly had no idea, and I had the impression many members of the audience didn’t know it was a thing, either.  But they started “coming out” all over the place.  Because this was the last panel of the day, and no one else needed the room, many folks hung around to talk long after.  Michelle Wexelblat, who is a clinical social worker, was deeply interested and moved down into the audience to talk with them.  I stayed for a while, but then had to go.  It had been a long day and I was burned out.  Besides, Barfleet was calling.

Yours truly, photo courtesy Kristi Petersen Schoonover

Okay, I’ve ranted about Barfleet often enough in past post-con posts that I won’t bore my readers with more of it here.  Suffice to say, they host parties at select conventions that can’t be beat.  Music, fabulous drinks, and an atmosphere which fits perfectly with the Pi-Con tradition of friendly, safe and inclusive.  No cameras allowed, because they want folks to feel safe letting themselves relax and explore the perhaps naughtier parts of their nature.  No harassment allowed either, again, because they are determined that their guests feel safe.  Operation Hammond is on call (“Nerds helping nerds in times of need”) for those who have a bit too much fun, or make the mistake of sampling an excess of horta or speaking aloud the name of Y-T (I just learned the significance of this Barfleet drinking ritual and am sworn to secrecy).

There are a number of Barfleet chapters spread across the country; our local one is the UBS Shameless, with Captain Rhandom Bhagczech who, by the way, recently had a baby.  (The Captain brought the bairn by earlier in the day and I got to meet her.  I’m not much for babies, but damned if this wasn’t cutest little bugger I ever did see.)  There was much speculation as to whether the party would come off as planned, after multiple debacles at Arisia.  But they did everything right this time, and it went off without a hitch.  They had the customary raffle for charity at the end of the night, and although I did not win the official UBS Shameless shirt, I managed to bribe the woman who did win it to surrender it to me, and there was much rejoicing.  Their regular DJ was not on hand, but they improvised very nicely using a laptop and good speakers, so although they did not have the Safety Dance, I was able to request it by supplying it on my iPod.  (Because I always request the Safety Dance at Barfleet.)

Vikki Ciaffone, Allen Steele, Trisha Wooldridge, Kate Kaynak and Kristi Petersen Schoonover, Developing Deep Characters in Spec-Fic panel. Photo courtesy Lori Claxton

Sunday morning I dragged myself out of bed (not hungover, I’ll have you know!) sleep-deprived and suffering from Last Day at the Con syndrome.  Although the consuite generally does not open until 9am, I took a chance and wandered down there at 8:30 and lo!  What to my wondering eyes did appear but fresh coffee, scones, and other assorted yummies. I wept with joy and praised the name of Terry Franklin, who manages the consuite.  Bless you, bless you, dear Terry!

“Fiction has no Place in Our Curriculum” panel, L to R: Ken Kingsgrave-Ernstein, Justine Graykin, Kristi Petersen Schoonover. Photo courtesy Lori Claxton

Fortified for the day, I went forth to my final three panels where I Fell Behind the J-curve with Grant Carrington, Ari Alpert and David Larochelle, Built Better Gods with George Claxton and Vikki Ciaffone, and protested Fiction having no place in the Common Core Curriculum with Suzanne Reynolds-Alpert, Ken Kingsgrave-Ernstein, and Kristi Petersen Schoonover.  (I felt impoverished with merely two names at that last one.)   I had gone into the Common Core panel fully prepared with all sorts of info provided by my husband, Larry, who is an activist teacher of middle school Language Arts and working hard to raise awareness about high-stakes standardized testing in general and Common Core in particular.  (He’s a member of BAT — Badass Teacher Association — and will be a part of a march on DC late in July.)  But Kristi trumped me handily, coming in armed with reams of print-outs packed with facts and figures.  It was a lively, heartening discussion and a great way to wind up the con for me.  I left feeling that there’s hope for public education after all, and with luck and stubborn persistence we may be able to turn the corporate tide.

Other interesting items for sale in the BU/SHP Dealer’s Room. Photo courtesy Kristi Petersen Schoonover

Back to the Broad Universe Dealer’s Room, where there were tasty snacks and steady traffic.  At one point several members of the Barfleet crew, including the Captain, came down to say hello and buy books.  They picked up copies of my own Archimedes Nesselrode, and cleaned us out of UnCONventional, the con-themed anthology put out by Spencer Hill Press which mentions Barfleet in the acknowledgements as the inspiration for the collection (and includes a short story of mine).  The Captain also shared the beta prototype of a Cards Against Humanity deck they are working on called “Oh the Humanity” which will be, of course, Barfleet-themed.  More on that as news comes in, but I am tickled to say I have my own card in it.

Alas, all too quickly it was over.  At the feedback session the praises of the staff were sung, for there were remarkably few snafus.  The torch was passed from Jeff Warner to Michael Whitehouse, who will be 9Pi-Con’s chaircreature, and dates for the next year were announced: mark your calendars for April 24-26, 2015.  Michael Whitehouse, by the way, aside from handling registration and other odds and ends, created the Concardia deck for the con, with beautifully designed cards (a representative sample is at the opening of this post).

Time to pack up and go home, and that would have been an uneventful business if not for the fact that I now needed to deliver back to storage that which I had earlier liberated for the event.  I found my way to the storage facility without incident, the gear was off-loaded and put away, and I received quick tips for how best to get back to the highway.  There my luck failed me. 

Yes, it was partly due to fatigue, prolonged sleep-deprivation and general post-con mental fogginess on my part.  But it’s also largely due to Boston.  There are good reasons why many people, myself included, hate driving anywhere near Boston.  After studying my maps, my directions, struggling to identify unidentified streets, following signs for I-93 which led to intersections with no clue of which way to turn, getting trapped in cul-de-sacs and on one-way streets going the wrong way, I finally wept with joy as I achieved the ramp to the highway, going, blessedly, in the right direction.

There you have it, Octo-Pi summarized, which is a task roughly comparable to summarizing Proust.  A few other shout-outs to the folks who helped make this my best con ever: Inanna Arthen, who did the herculean job of figuring out the programming grid, Beck Prigot, for alligator wrangling, David Silber and Rick Kovalcik for grid wrangling, also Lisa Hertel, Abby Noyce, and Tom Traina for, well, stuff.  You, and Jeff and Debi and all the rest, you’re the ones who are awesome.  Not me.

See you next year.

Arisia 2014

Tardis Princess — Click on image for more info.

First of all, Arisia is a huge convention. Not as big as DragonCon, I’ll grant you, but still enormous. And it takes a lot of work and planning to pull it together. This 25th Arisia sold out its memberships. The crowds were huge, and the staff did an amazing job of keeping everybody happy and safe. A big round of applause to Con Chair Lisa Hertel and the many score of volunteers who made it work. Special mention to the Chefs Behind the Green Curtain for the great job of catering to all us participants, providing a steady supply of tasty and nourishing fare, and most important, con fuel (a.k.a. coffee).

Archimedes Nesselrode (top row), in excellent company.

I went into this year’s Arisia with an odd sense of anxiety, a vague feeling of not being quite ready for it. Perhaps it was because I was lugging a box of books this time as well as a promotional game plan of sorts. This year, I was a Real Author (which is silly, since I’ve got a fat portfolio of published shorts and articles, but there’s something about that first novel). I also had a great deal more to coordinate this year. I needed to pick up supplies for the Broad Universe party on my way to finding the home of the folks I was riding into Boston with, then touching base not only with Trisha Wooldridge, the Broad Universe Prez Chick, about the party and setting up the BU table in the Dealer’s Room, but also touching base with my Pi-Con connection about posters to put up for 8Pi (a.k.a. “OctoPi”) which is happening in June. Plus all the usual confusion of checking in, complicated when the hotel mixed up which room I was supposed to be in.

I’m happy to say that all went splendidly. The room situation was smoothed out, I did not forget anything, I met all my contacts and got posters up (for the BU party, the Rapid Fire Reading, and OctoPi) and best of all, book sales were brisk, thanks at least in part to Winged Snake.

First, a word on parties which, along with the bar, is where a great deal of the business of a convention actually takes place. The panels are inspiring and informative, and I enjoy being on either side of the table. The masquerade, music, gaming, artwork, and all the fun stuff are an indispensable part of the convention. But for me at least the biggest piece of the convention experience is the social one. I think I can safely say that this is true for a great many other people, which is why there are so many parties.

And I do mean awesome food.

Every night of Arisia there are at least five major parties going on, some open and some private, and dozens of smaller and informal ones. The open parties are alcohol-free, but usually offer good food (or in the case of the Broad Universe and Spencer Hill Press parties, awesome food). There were at least two chocolate fountains, and the OctoPi party had, of course, pie. These provide an excellent chance to sit and talk nerdy to one other. Private or closed parties serve alcohol and are ostensibly by invitation only. But it is pretty easy to get an invitation if you know somebody, or even just know which room to go to. Usually these parties are an excuse to promote an organization, such as a publishing house or another convention. Maltcon is dedicated to the fine art of sipping excellent Scotch. Then there are the parties dedicated to the fine art of throwing an excellent party.

One of the masters of this art is Barfleet. Not only do they have great music, a marvelous crew and culture, and the horta (well…) but they also do a raffle for charity, in this case, Operation Hammond, “Nerds helping nerds in times of need.” They’re certified EMTs at work at the con, seeing to the health and safety of the attendees. And they were the recipients of the charitable share of UBS Shameless’s raffle proceeds. Or they would have been, if Barfleet hadn’t been shut down. Again.

Operation Hammond: looking out for your health.

The UBS Shameless chapter of Barfleet (the Pride of the NorthEast Sector) has suffered some terrible setbacks, from loss of personnel (including two pregnancies, probably as a result of a port-of-call at Risa) and from getting raided by The Suits. This happened last year due to a hotel screw-up. This year the blame can be passed around a bit more freely, I’m sorry to say. I had a chance to get there, buy my cup (purple this year), sample the horta (less terrible than usual, an initial gag of fruity with a sort of cinnamon mint afterburn) and buy a streamer of raffle tickets for the Barfleet sweatshirt I lusted after. But before I had a chance to request the Safety Dance from the DJ, a murmur of panic began to sweep through the crowd. Then I saw The Suit, grey-haired and scowling, and we were told to drink up and get out.

Going perhaps too boldly?

I caught up with the DJ (“No Gangham, no Gaga, no Dubstep, no Bullshit”) who told me that some idiot had gone up to the hotel information desk and asked what the cover charge was for the Barfleet Party. That brought The Suit and his minions snuffling around the door. They discovered a crewman with a fistful of dollars outside in the hall (where they were selling the cups) and that was the end of it. To their credit, the hotel did not confiscate the alcohol, which they could have, and only saw to it that it was removed from the premises.

Now, the hotel could have turned a blind eye to the minor violations, or chastened the crew and allowed them to go forth and not violate hotel protocols again. They chose to err on the side of covering their backsides and spoiling everyone’s fun. But on the other hand, the Shameless opened themselves up to attack by conducting business in the hallway. This they should not have done. The tragedy was compounded by the necessity of canceling the Nauticon promotion party, which was to be hosted by Barfleet, and which would no doubt have been a splendid affair. There was much cursing and mutinous muttering, and the sporting of sticky-notes on con badges saying, “I Support Barfleet!”

Which brings me to the Space Cadets. Now, back in 2010, I attended an Arisia party with a Star Trek theme at which I “drank too much Romulan Ale, and came home with a suitcase full of tribbles.” (From the post of that event).  I still have two of the tribbles. And two years ago, I had the pleasure of being a somewhat long-in-the-tooth Dabo girl at a party hosted by Ferengi, whose invitations consisted of strips of gold-pressed latinum, which could be used for betting at the Dabo table in order to win some delightfully cheesy prizes (they got most of the latinum back — they were Ferengi, after all). (See my entry for Arisia 2012) This year I got the invite via a badge ribbon being handed out with the code phrase, “Be sure to bring your ID.” And so I found myself at the Andorian Mixer. And realized that all these parties had been thrown by the same outfit, the Space Cadets.

Door Master and Dragon Lady

They didn’t have the awesome DJ, although the mix of music supplied by the computer playlist was not bad at all. And they didn’t have a raffle for charity, or the horta (just as well). But these guys do it right. The door dragons did the carding and banding, that’s all. No money changed hands. And inside, they were giving the cups away, although one could make a charitable contribution (they had cool glow-in-the-dark cups, however I chose one with the Space Cadet logo on it). Then they have the tip jar at the bar. So there is ample opportunity to show one’s support and encouragement without giving The Suit any chance to spoil the fun.

Oh, and one could vote with dollar bills for next year’s theme. Dr. Who won (no big surprise). I expect I will be there. I am feeling very favorably disposed towards the Space Cadets.

One last observation about parties: one need not get blotto in order to enjoy the atmosphere, music, and social scene, with its opportunity to meet and connect. Even if you are at the bar or a closed party, you don’t need to drink booze. Just boldly go and request a tasty alternative, something fruity, sourish, or tonic-based. Even just seltzer or dihydrogen monoxide, which honestly is quite harmless and even good for you. And if you do enjoy alcohol, know your limits. I do, because I’m ashamed to say I’ve all too often crossed them. Now, whether I am at Barfleet or Space Cadets, I know when it’s time to start refilling my cup with water, which they are very happy to supply.

Yours truly with faithful Winged Snake

Having gone on a bit about parties (at which I had some of the best conversations at the con — there and the Green Room) I should add a couple of highlights from the rest of the experience.  Forgive me, I didn’t take as many photos (many thanks to Morven for her contribution) and notes as I usually do.  Maybe that’s a good thing.

The Most Brilliantly Funny Reading award goes, hands down, to Stephen R. Wilk, with his Grinch version of Beowulf, which had everyone in the room laughing fit to wet themselves. And I had the pleasure of being on two panels with the delightful and multi-talented John Chu, including “Looking Forward to Last Thursday”, a panel on Time Travel stories held at the gawdawful hour of 10 am on Monday morning. I must commend my fellow panelists Ellen Larson, John McDaid and Heather Albano for managing to sound intelligent in spite of sleep-deprivation and all-around convention burn-out. John Chu moderated, and kept us relatively coherent and on topic. Bravo!

Elaine Isaak, creator of the Winged Snake (mine, anyway) as well as author of excellent Fantasy, whose hero you do not want to be.

Kudos also to James Shapiro (J. S. Hailer) who moderated the “Constructing Languages” panel which packed the Independence Room probably beyond the legal limit, with folks sitting on tables and lining the walls. I felt hideously underqualified for the panel compared to Shapiro/Hailer’s laundry list of academic creds and ability to speak nine languages. With Rose Mambert, John Chu (again!), Greer Gilman, and an enthusiastic and well-informed audience, it was a great panel.

Jennifer Pelland: Exterminate!

Most Fun Panel award goes to (brace yourselves) “My Little Pony: Arisia is Magic”. We had a big crowd for this one, too, with lots of lively and engaged discussion about the show, its broad appeal, the Brony phenomenon (with James “Coder Brony” Turner supplying statistics on the world-wide Brony population and its demographics), Equestria Girls, Derpy and Dr. Whooves, and many other aspects of the fandom. Thanks to Cassandra Lease and Nicole Robinson (and daughter) and especially to Yitzy Abramowitz for moderating and supplying the ponies (I forgot mine).  Honorable mention for Most Fun Panel goes to the “Dr. Who Turns Fifty”.  After much denigration of Stephen Moffat and current writing for the show, the panel put out a challenge to the audience to come up with their own pitches for plots.  God, I hope someone was taking notes!  The fans came up with some brilliant ideas.

Broads Ellen Larson, Morven Westfield, Trisha Wooldridge, Kate Kaynak, and Terri Bruce

With four days of adventures, there is of course lots more. But this will have to do. Shout-outs to Roxanne Bland and Trisha and Scott Wooldridge for supplying me with crash space, and to Margery Harrison and her nominally complex husband for getting me there and home. Also to the indefatigable Terri Bruce, Marie Romero and Kate Kaynak of Spencer Hill Press, Roberta Rogow the Filking Queen, Elaine Isaak (who crafted my lovely Winged Snake), the Darksome Morven Westfield, and all the other glamorous and formidable Broads of Broad Universe. See you at The Next Con.