This week’s Blood is Thicker than Water, a little late because of Wiscon.
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And, a wee bit of a Wiscon debrief. Follow the link to Friday.
Every year I make the Wiscon pilgramage with my good friends Dan and Lisa, a married couple that I’ve known for almost 20 years now. No wonder both Dan and I have gray hair now!
While I was waiting for them, I beefed up my troll book a bit, almost completing my MayNo word count. I organized. Then Dan and Lisa came to Panera, they had pastry, and we headed out for Wisconsin.
After checking in, unpacking, and lunch, we participated in the last hour of the gathering. The gathering is a party with activities as diverse as smelling BPAL or getting your palm read.
Dan and I had tea while Lisa was massaged. I thought that sounded like a great idea, so I had a chair massage. With four hands. That was kind of sensual.
Next up: a very positive tarot reading from Leah Cutter. Which was interesting, given the events of the convention.
Lisa was hit by clothing swap faerie Ellen Kushner, and picked up a beautiful gray jumper wrap.
I ran into two of my reading partners during the gathering: Catherine Cheek, who’d been up since 4 am, and Shira Lipkin, who was her cheery opposite number.
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Most of the rest of my afternoon was spent as a chorus participant in the Broad Universe skit. The three of us chorus members did a lot of improvisation, and the overall skit was indeed good enough for a boy scout camp, but we had fun, and the audience seemed to as well when we performed it at opening ceremonies.
Then it was all about the parties. The parties are great places to meet new people and have fun talking to other writers. I wandered around until about midnight. I talked to some live journal friends. I wrote a haiku for earrings entitled the sun king.
His mistress is gay
On the arm of the sun king
Her majesty cries
Or something very close to that.
I sneaked back to my room around 11, and read a great chunk of Magic Strikes, which was getting better and better. Good enough to keep me from sleeping, anyway.
And so to bed. And up at six the next day, because I’m married to Mr. Morning, and no matter how late I stay up, I have a well-set internal clock.
Next Up: Saturday panels and antics.
