WisCon was, of course, awesome and I am teh exhausted.  But in a good way.

This year’s plan was to deliberately do what I accidentally did last year, i.e. ignore most of the official con stuff and just meet and hang out with cool people.  This worked pretty well.  I did wander into a few panels.  I highly recommend the “Let’s Make a World” panel, especially if Benjamin Rosenbaum is moderating.  It’s very silly in a thoroughly delightful sort of way.  I’d also recommend standing nearby while he’s having arguments about hive minds with Annalee Horn, Ted Chiang and others.

The real awesome of the weekend had more to do with a series of little fabulous things clustering together than any one large thing.  I put together* an aggressively nerdy ad for my services as a Realtor and people not only noticed it, but seemed to enjoy it as much as I did.  I got gestures toward good news on the selling book front from multiple directions.  My board game addiction was finally soothed with some Arkham Horror action in the consuite.

Oh, and I met Nora Jemmison briefly.  I even managed to phrase, “Your prose is so gorgeous I want to consume your liver and steal your powers,” as, “I really like your books.”  I think we can all be proud of me for this.

The Strange Horizons tea party was really great, too.  I meant to go last year and failed, so that was the one thing I was adamant about attending this year.  I’m glad I did since seeing all the tributes to Karen Meisner and Susan Groppi where people said exactly what I was thinking was both sweet and validating.  It’s always awesome to see just how much other people love the same things you love, too.

I’d like to make a special call out to Mike Underwood for being a fabulous house guest, Vylard Kaftan and Shannon for prompting me to acknowledge that Baraboo exists for things other than canvassing, and Gary and Brin Kloster for being around and sociable and introducing me to other cool people.

Cassie Alexander, on the other hand, gets rebuked.  I’ve gone and joined Twitter, and it’s all her fault.  I hope she’s very ashamed of herself.  I’ve selected the shockingly unexpected handle of AnaeaLay.  Anybody want to take bets to see how long before a 140 character causes me to burst into flames?

*Which should be read as, I printed it, and my graphic design buddy is undervaluing himself hugely by charging only in cheesecake.

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