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Finally, I can do one of those annoying posts where I list the names of all the people I met - so much so that the page literally bleeds neon blue. :P Last night's reading at KGB was the first time since the 05 Writer's Weekend convention that I met so many livejournalers en masse - and I really did meet ¼ of the Clarion class. B.K. Dunn met up with me on the steps outside the bar, followed quickly by Shveta Thakrar (lotus_faerie) and Steve Berman (mroctober). Might I add that Mr. Berman looked quite dashing in his jacket and tie, and looks impossibly young. Damn your youthful vim and vigor! ::shakes cane:: Christopher Cevasco and Robert Joseph Levy (relby) joined us later inside, along with bethnyc, who must have gotten pretty sick of declaring "no, I'm NOT a Clarionite!" all night long. :)

John Langan read first (I didn't quite catch what work he was reading from - sorry!), followed by blackholly, whom I met at the top of the evening. She read the short story that will be in Ellen Datlow's upcoming anthology "The Coyote Road" - after she almost trashed the podium, that is. What rock star temperaments these writers get! I also met a former co-worker from my days at Tor (as Tom Doherty's assistant) - Ginger Clark, who now works for Curtis Brown as an agent. Ginger was one of the agents I sent my hideously long* YA fantasy novel to last year, and she had some good words for it in her rejection. I was quite relieved that she was happy to see me, and didn't punch me out and scream "OMG WHY DID YOU MAKE ME READ THAT?!" Heh. I also finally met Jenny Rappaport (Lit Soup), an agent with Folio Literary Management - I knew Jenny through the Codex Writers Workshop, and we've been corresponding back and forth for some time now. I also met Douglas Cohen (of Realms of Fantasy), again whom I know from Codex.

Normally I'd have gone home after the reading, because I'm a fussy old crankypants who likes to crawl into bed early. This time around, I made myself go to the dinner, and I'm glad I did - well, except for when I ate the teeny wonton soaked in BURNING HOT OIL. I almost punched Barry Goldblatt (bgliterary) out in my attempt to grab the water pitcher. I met cassandraclare (aka thegraybook) and her SO, and watched Holly get mroctober all giggly on just two small shots of sake. About half the time I followed the conversation, and the other half I couldn't tear my eyes away from "The Princess Bride", which was playing on a big-screen TV just above our table. What can I say, I have the attention span of a gnat. At a little after 11, we broke up, and I schlepped home after promising mroctober that I'd mention his name at least five or six times in this blog. Because, really, the evening was all about him: mroctober

My only regret for the evening was that I was never introduced to Ellen Datlow - mroctober made a valiant effort, but just as he started to say my name, a thousand people whisked her away from us. D'oh! And I didn't meet Kelly Link - although she'll be at Clarion, so there'll be other opportunities for her to learn my name - and then curse it forever!

*it was actually more hideous than it was long :D

EDIT: Ellen Datlow's photos of the reading. If you look closely, I'm in the background of three shots. Luckily, my finger wasn't anywhere near my nostrils when she took the pics. Yay! Shveta's photos are right here.

Marine Autumn

I owe you marine autumn
With dankness at its roots
and fog like a grape
and the graceful sun of the country;
and the silent space
in which sorrows lose themselves
and only the bright crown
of joy comes to the surface.

--Pablo Neruda.


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