Wisconamania

Nicola and I are back from Wiscon, and a wonderful time it was. Such a treat to see so many readers, writers, editors, academics, generally cool people.

It was especially great to meet people who’ve read Solitaire and were kind enough to say nice things to me about it. It meant a lot to me. Naomi, thank you for sharing this story in person — it was great to meet you. And you too, Gwenda. And Diane Silver, who did this interview with me for Broad Universe a couple of years ago.

And hello to Michelle (thanks for the kind words in the elevator), Donna (so happy that things are going well), Kaiya, Susan, Jennifer, Jessamine, Elizabeth , Lori, Shana, and everyone else. Please forgive me if you don’t see your name here –- I’m not good with names at the best of times, and my brain feels a thousand years old right now, soggy and tired but very grateful for everyone’s kindness. Every nice thing that anyone said mattered to me enormously.

And I’m sure you’ll be shocked that I have some stories to tell (grin). Here are a couple of highlights.

Traveling is Fun!
We decide to fly in and out of Chicago so that we can spend an evening with my dad and stepmother. We decide to get a car service to and from Madison in case we’re too tired to drive ourselves, because we know that sometimes there are delays at the Chicago airport. We feel ready.

We get on the plane in Seattle. The pilot informs us that there are (already) severe weather delays in Chicago. We get off the plane, clutching a meal voucher that gets us a dubious roast beef sandwich, which we split. We get on the plane again. We sit on the runway for a long time. Then we fly toward Chicago. Then we begin going around in circles. I hate this a lot. The pilot says, “You may have noticed that we’re flying in circles.” Turns out we are circling Fort Dodge, Iowa, because there are already so many planes circling Chicago that there is no room for us.

“The original plan,” the pilot says, “was to circle here, then join traffic over Chicago for about 45 minutes and land. But we can’t really wait that long.”

Now he has my full attention.

“So right now we’re asking for priority clearance to Chicago, and hoping the weather breaks.”

Okay, me too.

Ten minutes later, we zoom off toward Chicago. Black grumpy-looking clouds on the horizon. Other planes. I’m sitting where I can see the flight attendant clearly as her little phone beeps. Now the thing is, all the flight attendants (and the pilot) have been extraordinarily communicative, cheerful, really great. But this woman is no longer smiling. Her face is carefully blank. She listens to the phone and every few seconds says, “Okay. Okay. Okay.”

I hate this a lot too. I hate it even more when, a few seconds later, the pilot informs us that we are not going to Chicago, we are going to St. Louis. To refuel. Right now. Everyone straps in and the flight attendants tighten their seat belts like they really mean it. I am so unhappy at this moment, I can’t even be upset, if that makes sense. I don’t really think we’re going to die, but I am suddenly grateful that pilots have to have so much damn training.

So we land in St. Louis and refuel on the runway, then take off for Chicago again and go around and around and around for a while, zooming in and out of the biggest thunderclouds I’ve ever seen up close and personal.

When we finally land in Chicago, it is 11:30 at night and we are five and a half hours late. We have each had a half a beef sandwich in Seattle, and a bit of salad (and some very tasty nuts) on the plane. We are starving, we are tired, and I am wondering why oh why I ever think that leaving home is a good idea.

And of course I also wonder if we still have a car, because we are very late. And it turns out that we do. The wonderful folks at Gallant Knight Limousine have taken great care of us. It’s not just that Bob, our driver, waited (and waited, and waited). While he was waiting, he did some web surfing, found our websites, read all about us, and picked out what was perhaps, at that moment, the single most important thing: we like champagne.

So at midnight we find ourselves in a cozy Lincoln town car with a bottle of chilled champagne, two proper glasses, some bottled water, some beef jerky, apples and Pepperidge Farm Milano cookies from a tollway convenience store, heading to Madison.

Our driver on the return trip, Kent, was equally nice, steering with equanimity through torrential rain and Memorial Day traffic, and not minding that we were dog-tired and conversationally inadequate. He deposited us at the O’Hare Hilton, where we were informed that the grownups bar was closed for Memorial Day (have you ever heard of such a thing?). So we ended up in the sports bar (yahoo), where we had a drink and then met my dad and stepmother. We had a lovely dinner in the (non-sports) restaurant. We got up at dawn o’clock for the return trip. The plane left at 8:15 AM, and there were already storm clouds building up. I imagine some Wiscon attendees are still there, growing old in O’Hare and waiting for the bar to open.

Food, Drink, Conversation
Still our favorite thing to do, and so many interesting people to do it with at Wiscon! Our friends Mark (with whom we attended Clarion) and Donna were there. We had a great dinner together in which I gave Mark a lecture (what are friends for)? He was very patient about it. Ellen Klages was her usual fantabulous self and ran a hell of a Tiptree Auction. We had a wonderful dinner with Ellen, Ursula K. Le Guin, Vonda McIntyre, Carol Emshwiller, and Carol’s daughter Eve. We had an equally wonderful dinner with Sharyn November, Nalo Hopkinson, Nina Kiriki Hoffman, and the peripatetic Ms. Klages. We had drinks and good talk in the bar with Jeremy Lassen, who gave us really cool t-shirts and has the pictures to prove it. I had a lovely conversation with the amazing Pat Cadigan (with whom we shared our reading slot on Sunday). I really enjoyed seeing Cheryl Morgan, Rosaleen Love and Sylvia Kelso again. We went to several great parties, including those thrown by Aqueduct and Tachyon, Firebird, and Broad Universe. I wished there were three of me so I could talk to everyone I wanted to, but I can’t party all night like I used to. I think I’m getting old.

I am not dropping names just to sound cool, but rather to demonstrate the amazingness that is Wiscon (and maybe to turn someone reading this on to a writer or organization you might enjoy). It was such a treat to talk with people whom I admire personally and professionally. Reconnecting is a good thing.

But the most important and meaningful conversations we had were with readers. To everyone who took the time to speak with us about your experience of our work, thank you so much. You made my weekend.

It was great fun. And the fascinating thing about events like this is how many different layers of experience there are. Everyone has a different convention, the same way everyone reads a different book. There was so much that I wanted to do or say or be part of, but missed because of scheduling choices, fatigue, random encounters, food delays, psychic overload… and it’s also true that many of my best moments were equally random or happenstance. And so it goes. I still believe in plans, but more and more, I think it’s a Plan B world.

Cheers.