The weary miles betwixt Le Chateau du Chat Gris and the UCC prevented me from posting last week. Today I'll recount what I can remember with help from my recent newsletter. What I can't remember, I'll fabricate to the best of my recollection.
I made certain not to arrive exceedingly early. I learned my lesson last year with the hauling of ice and comestibles with Jana, John, et al. I arrived less than a half hour before the starting gun sounded and got checked in, collected my two shirts, and caught up with Colby and Rick. I then visited the rooms and decided which presentation I would first attend.
The local constabulary made an appearance and brought some strong opinions regarding our choice of vehicular positioning. Although we were a full tome of writers with our poetic licenses at the ready, we declined to throw down the gauntlet of semantics and the complete lack of prohibitory signage, and instead moved our cars to the graveled area.
A noticeable improvement over last year saw us in three rooms for presentations and panels where the AC wasn't permanently set to arctic blast. The cantina room where one talked, gabbed, gossiped, flattered, cajoled, and mingled with writers, food, and carbonated beverages maintained the polar temps but it was bearable in that more open environment.
The big issue concerned how my presentation on Forging Unforgettable Stories was going to be delivered and received. Fortunately, Jay made a timely appearance for the presentation preceding mine, and we got things figured out--after a fashion. I used the laptop furnished by the cantina for the presentation while following my notes on my own laptop. The audience participated and certainly gave the appearance of being attentive. No one had to be removed by paramedics for an acute attack of apathy with complications from boredom. I even noted a few folks taking photos of my slides.
I attended a great presentation by Gordon and Nancy on historic firearms. Unfortunately, I had to leave before the end to take care of another matter. The panel on writing historical fantasy that I organized with Dave, Daniel, David, and me, had standing room only. I had lost the erudite and cogent questions that I had prepared when I suggested the idea for the panel, so I had to fire my inquiries on the fly to keep the discussion moving. The other panelists rose to the occasion, providing thoughtful and interesting responses to my quick queries.
I enjoyed meeting editors and writers for Raconteur Press--what a fun bunch.
Here are a few of those who deigned to allow their picture to be taken:
I also snapped a picture during the presentation by Larry and Steve of Writer Dojo on writing action scenes:
When the event closed on the second day--going longer than that off-Broadway play I starred in--that's totally not true. I have never... Well, I guess I have in fact starred or had the lead male role in one or more plays which were not on Broadway, but they all went the full 7 nights--I hung around until the event organizer literally shooed the last of us from the crime scene. However, the fun continued as I lingered with Dave, David, Josh, and another writer outside the locked doors of the venue in discussion of matters both arcane and mundane--which sounds like a book title: Matters Arcane and Mundane: How Secret Societies Control Your Daily Life.
To top off the the great event, I was invited to sup with editors and writers for Raconteur Press. I got to talk Star Trek with Brad and another prolific short story writer who favored a Hawaiian shirt that day and preferred not to have his picture or name mentioned in social media--it totally wasn't Windward Noblue. Nancy's spicy spaghetti tapped my taste buds with a terrific little tango of flavor that I quite enjoyed. I had nice conversations with James and J.C. and a delightful little chat with Liddie about the Arthurian stories that she's crafting. I had a couple brief discussions with Mike at the conference but didn't get to talk much to him at the after gathering as he was tied up with more entertaining folks.
I also spoke briefly with Liddie's dad at the conference, and enjoyed that as well. There was a discussion with Joe, Brad, and J.L. that was quite pleasant (see the picture above). Perhaps the most memorable conversation I had at the conference concerned a topic outside the ordinary: Mastitis. We got to that point because I kept asking questions to which, unbeknownst to me, mastitis was ultimately the answer. Once she learned that I grew up on a farm and had some understanding of the malady, the whole horrible issue came out. Although not quite as notable as the breast infection topic, a discussion followed at the same table about paranormal experiences with David, Josh, Daniel, and Janiel that was great fun.
The Writers Cantina was tremendous fun. I don't regret the trip and enjoyed catching up with old friends and meeting new ones. It was more fun than a root canal and twice as exciting as any book by Faulkner--and I'm not just saying that.
In other news, I'll be sailing to Byzantium at the end of the week.
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