And then there was Saturday night. The first thing that I did as I made the rounds was top in at the Tor Party to compliment Jim Frenkel on his editing of L. Jagi Lamplighter’s Prospero Lost. I don’t know how much complimenting editors get for their work, but he seemed pleased that someone had taken the time to do so. I mentioned that I planned to dissect it and see how that skilled author had worked with certain tricks. He warned me against plagiarism. I told him that was terribly unlikely to happen.
Sometimes, you just get tired of being treated like you’re clueless. Or maybe he was attempting a New York style of humor.
***
There was some mighty fine singing in Cat Valente’s book party, so I hung there for a while. I called Bryon, who related an excellent visit with his mother and father. I felt I should be home supporting him, and this feeling would re-surface throughout the rest of the evening.
But, sadly, the majority of my night was spent listening to a friend tell the story of her unexpected divorce.
I won’t go into any details. It was the second story of a similar nature I’d heard in the two days I was at the convention. Both stories were about the disintegration of a couple in irreparable ways. Strange things, where one suddenly didn’t want what the other wanted, or one turned out to be a very different human being than the other thought.
So, I felt grateful and solid in my partner again. Of course, I’m certain these people felt that way too at one time, and I have no good idea what makes these things happen, or why they do. I guess that the world is still full of monsters, and if you’re very unlucky, one will slip into your bed and take the place of the person you love, and then what do you do?
***
All of the night was not in that depressing vein. Ellen, Margaret, and I had more good conversation. I drifted into and out of conversations with a variety of people. But I ended unsettled. Sleep was a good thing that night.
