Post-Readercon Thinking

I got back from Readercon 22 about half an hour ago. Rather than attempt to write a con roundup which I always swear that I will do and rarely, if ever, actually get around to doing well, I will merely say that I enjoyed it: I got turned on to some new authors that I haven’t read before and I got to listen to smart people say smart things and to silly people say silly things (sometimes, of course, simultaneously).

I was stunned that the audience actually won the Kirk Poland Memorial Bad Prose Competition this year for the first time ever. I am looking forward to seeing how (if at all) they will deal with that fact in next year’s competition (as, usually, the winner is an on-stage contestant in the next iteration).

I have (as usual) a truly sickening pile of new books to read (only about half of which are really new-new) and I re-upped my subscription to Lady Churchill’s Rosebut Wristlet. (Can I pause for a moment to say how much I adore Small Beer press? I adore them SO FREAKING MUCH.)

The con was much fuller of things to do than my weekend was full of time in which to do them. Kind of like a microcosm of life itself, I guess. I am currently suffering from a mild case of what a friend of mine used to call PCBs – post con blues. The abrupt dissolution of the cheerful, focused intentional community that a con as small and specific as Readercon creates can leave one feeling a little bereft. But, of course, I will see folks again next year, if not before.

For now, there shall be rest, and laundry and a totally veggie-intensive dinner.