Belated catch up post two: ICFA 2013
Mar. 28th, 2013 05:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
marinessAs I've previously mentioned, the ICFA conference is, in theory, a conference where academics and writers involved in the arts of the fantastic mingle and engage in scholarly conversation, readings, and paper presentations. I say "in theory" because my part of this is to hang out at the bar or the pool and discuss, in rather less academic fashion, such Important Matters as Hard Cider, the Perfect Party Dress (with pockets!), and why the Blurays for Game of Thrones remain priced so high even for academics and writers involved in the arts of the fantastic and will HBO EVER open its HBO Go service to non-cable subscribers?
This year was no different. The only real difference was that I spent Thursday and Friday nights at the IAFA hotel (kinda ruing this when I was sick Friday and Saturday mornings, which kinda felt like a total waste of spending money on a hotel) and that I ate a lot more cheese. (Cheese is good.) So I felt a bit more like I was part of the conference, even though I did even less of it than I usually do, and though I was pretty certainly the only person at the conference also following a golf tournament. (In actual fact most of the other attendees didn't even know about the golf tournament.) Various highlights, in no particular order, especially not in the order of events:
1. Massively obnoxious name dropping moment one: As long time friends know, I am not a whiskey person. I am particularly not a whiskey person when I am already feeling mildly dizzy and have already had a glass of red wine and kinda poured out my little pained writing soul to someone thanks to this (writers, alcohol, angst, look, sometimes I just have to follow the trend).
But when Ellen Datlow and Peter Straub are urging you to have a glass of Neil Gaiman's whiskey (organic! From Chicago!), and you are realizing that this might just beat your previous all time Geek Highlight Moment (Me and Chewbacca AT A BAR!), Sacrifices Must Be Made.
(Those more familiar with whiskey and a little less overwhelmed with the "What, this is seriously Neil Gaiman's whiskey?" assured me that it had an interesting rich flavour, more of a bourbon. Also apparently it was a gift to Gaiman, who passed it on to Peter Straub for tasting purposes who then passed it back to him.)
2. Slightly less obnoxious name dropping moment two: I seem to be destined to meet Particia McKillip in bathrooms as I am struggling with doors. This needs to change, and by this, I mean, AUUGH THE DOORS. (Ms. McKillip was lovely and fortunately seems to have completely forgotten our earlier humiliating encounters.)
3. Not that obnoxious name dropping moment three: So, late Saturday afternoon, with about five, six hours of the con still to go before I head off, I hear that Sofia Samatar is around.
Me, all pleased: Really? What does she look like so I can go try to talk to her, hopefully not in a stalkerish kinda way?
Other person: I have no idea.
Second other person: ...I think she has short hair?
Since this was not quite as helpful as it sounds, I tried again with other people:
Third other person: I'm pretty sure she has short hair.
Fourth other person: ...I think she was wearing shoes.
That clinched it, since by that point some people had taken off shoes so they could put their feet into the pool, which meant that eventually, indeed, we did meet up, and I will tell all of you: she has short hair. And, she wears shoes. So now you know.
(On a considerably more important note, she also has a book coming out in a few days from Small Beer Press; here's a sample of her fiction work. Go read.)
Naturally, I returned home to discover that if I'd just used a little product called Google I could have found her picture and spent rather less time looking at feet. Oh well.
4. The rest of the con was spent chattering with far too many people to list (since I'd forget someone which would be sad), although a real highlight was finally, after about, um, fifteen years, managing to meet Mary Anne Mamohanraj), sharing desserts, because That Is Important, eating cheese, because, Ditto; coffeeing and more.
5. Meanwhile, during all of this, my nice reliable iPad started to refuse to show me my Twitter feed through Safari. Just flat out refused. At about the same moment, my cheap cell phone started to sulk about being brought to a far, distant land where – in cell phone terms – it was utterly, utterly alone and abandoned, by which it meant, unable to access a 3G network from the nearest cell phone tower although it was still able to send me texts about CHEAP AND RELIABLE USED CARS. (I quote the capital letters.) Naturally, this all happened right after I'd assured any number of people that I could be contacted through Twitter.
Not a problem, I thought cheerfully. I could just download a Twitter app from the trusty hotel service and use that.
So, off I headed to the app store, downloaded a Twitter app, only to be told that I couldn't use it because my iPad – gasp – only uses OS4, not OS5 or higher. Not a problem, I thought cheerfully. I'll just upgrade –
iPad: NO UPGRADES. I sulk.
Me: What? But I want to USE you.
iPad: Yes, well, I can see what you are doing. You're just trying to upgrade me without going through your computer so you won't be forcibly switched to the newer, much worse version of iTunes!
Me: No, it's more that I'm forty-five minutes from my computer and I am not about to pay for a taxi or ask someone to take me there just so I can upgrade you just so I can use a Twitter app.
iPad: Well, ha ha on you. The ONLY way you can upgrade to OS5 is by plugging your iPad into your computer! YOU WILL NEVER USE TWITTER AGAIN!
Me: I feel a strange feeling coming over me. Almost – almost as if I feel compelled to buy a Google Nexus instead of an Apple product!
6. Sunday's plans to possibly explore more of central Florida were cancelled partly by my being totally out of it and mostly by the arrival of one major thunderstorm coupled with various small tornados, which looked awesome --- I watched from a seventh story window the swirling rain and wind hurl towards International Drive across a small pond, only to see everything disappear behind wind and rain a few seconds later, only to hear the warning sounds of tornados. Florida tornados are generally small (unless associated with hurricanes) so these caused just minor damage, just enough to cause some excitement and delay most of the last day of the golf tournament and let me sleep a lot more.
7. This also meant that the follow up trip to see gators (ICFA people) and get fudge (me) happened on Monday. An astounding number of tourists either trapped by cancelled flights or taking advantage of Florida resident discounts had had the same idea, but the gators, frankly, were content to just rest unmoving through most of it. This was followed by dinner and gossip, all awesome, and then the sobs of a small black and white cat who had just had the WORST WEEK EVER and needed to walk out his feelings on my leg while alternatively yowling and purring. He claims he still hasn't fully recovered, though I have a feeling this might be because he's still holding out for tuna. The other one apparently took advantage of my absence to do some interdimensional travelling, given that she was not seen at all during that time and not seen for a full day after my reurn.
Special thanks to everyone who helped out with driving/pushing, especially Matthew Sanborn Smith and Siobhan Carrollakashiver, who went above and beyond.
And next year, I'll try to bring my mountain dulcimer along to play at the pool. If everyone reminds me.
This year was no different. The only real difference was that I spent Thursday and Friday nights at the IAFA hotel (kinda ruing this when I was sick Friday and Saturday mornings, which kinda felt like a total waste of spending money on a hotel) and that I ate a lot more cheese. (Cheese is good.) So I felt a bit more like I was part of the conference, even though I did even less of it than I usually do, and though I was pretty certainly the only person at the conference also following a golf tournament. (In actual fact most of the other attendees didn't even know about the golf tournament.) Various highlights, in no particular order, especially not in the order of events:
1. Massively obnoxious name dropping moment one: As long time friends know, I am not a whiskey person. I am particularly not a whiskey person when I am already feeling mildly dizzy and have already had a glass of red wine and kinda poured out my little pained writing soul to someone thanks to this (writers, alcohol, angst, look, sometimes I just have to follow the trend).
But when Ellen Datlow and Peter Straub are urging you to have a glass of Neil Gaiman's whiskey (organic! From Chicago!), and you are realizing that this might just beat your previous all time Geek Highlight Moment (Me and Chewbacca AT A BAR!), Sacrifices Must Be Made.
(Those more familiar with whiskey and a little less overwhelmed with the "What, this is seriously Neil Gaiman's whiskey?" assured me that it had an interesting rich flavour, more of a bourbon. Also apparently it was a gift to Gaiman, who passed it on to Peter Straub for tasting purposes who then passed it back to him.)
2. Slightly less obnoxious name dropping moment two: I seem to be destined to meet Particia McKillip in bathrooms as I am struggling with doors. This needs to change, and by this, I mean, AUUGH THE DOORS. (Ms. McKillip was lovely and fortunately seems to have completely forgotten our earlier humiliating encounters.)
3. Not that obnoxious name dropping moment three: So, late Saturday afternoon, with about five, six hours of the con still to go before I head off, I hear that Sofia Samatar is around.
Me, all pleased: Really? What does she look like so I can go try to talk to her, hopefully not in a stalkerish kinda way?
Other person: I have no idea.
Second other person: ...I think she has short hair?
Since this was not quite as helpful as it sounds, I tried again with other people:
Third other person: I'm pretty sure she has short hair.
Fourth other person: ...I think she was wearing shoes.
That clinched it, since by that point some people had taken off shoes so they could put their feet into the pool, which meant that eventually, indeed, we did meet up, and I will tell all of you: she has short hair. And, she wears shoes. So now you know.
(On a considerably more important note, she also has a book coming out in a few days from Small Beer Press; here's a sample of her fiction work. Go read.)
Naturally, I returned home to discover that if I'd just used a little product called Google I could have found her picture and spent rather less time looking at feet. Oh well.
4. The rest of the con was spent chattering with far too many people to list (since I'd forget someone which would be sad), although a real highlight was finally, after about, um, fifteen years, managing to meet Mary Anne Mamohanraj), sharing desserts, because That Is Important, eating cheese, because, Ditto; coffeeing and more.
5. Meanwhile, during all of this, my nice reliable iPad started to refuse to show me my Twitter feed through Safari. Just flat out refused. At about the same moment, my cheap cell phone started to sulk about being brought to a far, distant land where – in cell phone terms – it was utterly, utterly alone and abandoned, by which it meant, unable to access a 3G network from the nearest cell phone tower although it was still able to send me texts about CHEAP AND RELIABLE USED CARS. (I quote the capital letters.) Naturally, this all happened right after I'd assured any number of people that I could be contacted through Twitter.
Not a problem, I thought cheerfully. I could just download a Twitter app from the trusty hotel service and use that.
So, off I headed to the app store, downloaded a Twitter app, only to be told that I couldn't use it because my iPad – gasp – only uses OS4, not OS5 or higher. Not a problem, I thought cheerfully. I'll just upgrade –
iPad: NO UPGRADES. I sulk.
Me: What? But I want to USE you.
iPad: Yes, well, I can see what you are doing. You're just trying to upgrade me without going through your computer so you won't be forcibly switched to the newer, much worse version of iTunes!
Me: No, it's more that I'm forty-five minutes from my computer and I am not about to pay for a taxi or ask someone to take me there just so I can upgrade you just so I can use a Twitter app.
iPad: Well, ha ha on you. The ONLY way you can upgrade to OS5 is by plugging your iPad into your computer! YOU WILL NEVER USE TWITTER AGAIN!
Me: I feel a strange feeling coming over me. Almost – almost as if I feel compelled to buy a Google Nexus instead of an Apple product!
6. Sunday's plans to possibly explore more of central Florida were cancelled partly by my being totally out of it and mostly by the arrival of one major thunderstorm coupled with various small tornados, which looked awesome --- I watched from a seventh story window the swirling rain and wind hurl towards International Drive across a small pond, only to see everything disappear behind wind and rain a few seconds later, only to hear the warning sounds of tornados. Florida tornados are generally small (unless associated with hurricanes) so these caused just minor damage, just enough to cause some excitement and delay most of the last day of the golf tournament and let me sleep a lot more.
7. This also meant that the follow up trip to see gators (ICFA people) and get fudge (me) happened on Monday. An astounding number of tourists either trapped by cancelled flights or taking advantage of Florida resident discounts had had the same idea, but the gators, frankly, were content to just rest unmoving through most of it. This was followed by dinner and gossip, all awesome, and then the sobs of a small black and white cat who had just had the WORST WEEK EVER and needed to walk out his feelings on my leg while alternatively yowling and purring. He claims he still hasn't fully recovered, though I have a feeling this might be because he's still holding out for tuna. The other one apparently took advantage of my absence to do some interdimensional travelling, given that she was not seen at all during that time and not seen for a full day after my reurn.
Special thanks to everyone who helped out with driving/pushing, especially Matthew Sanborn Smith and Siobhan Carroll
akashiver, who went above and beyond. And next year, I'll try to bring my mountain dulcimer along to play at the pool. If everyone reminds me.