ConFusion 2010 - An Attendee's Report - by Jer Lance

I have such a difficult time in writing these follow-up posts after a convention. I desperately want to write everything down immediately, while the memories are fresh and interesting to me—unfortunately my brain is usually such a exhausted, jumbled mess after a weekend immersed in the freaks and geeks that it is virtually impossible to string together a coherent narrative (which presupposes that I have ever before strung together words that could be considered “coherent” or even “a narrative”, but I digress). So usually I wait a week or so and find that my loss of interest and hazy memory of events results in a rather lackluster summary of the weekend. This time I'm going to try to write this out immediately, and hope that the editorial process will make it something akin to readable. This is my “from an attendee's perspective” version…I'll do one from the conrunner's perspective if I'm so inclined later.

Note: I realize that a full con dump is going to be dull as hell to 90% of you, so I have tried to break it by day and bold the focus of each paragraph to make for easier skimming. Hope that helps, otherwise…umm…piss off and go read your picture books?

If the years of the conventions were given names based on their characteristics—like the Chinese zodiac—, I See by my ConFusion would have taken place in the Year of the Storyteller. Our guests of honor spoke to us tales of fantasy, regaled us with anecdotes from conventions past, sang stories of beautiful fantasy, and shared epic tales of space exploration as if yanked directly from a grammar schooler's imagination. Oh, and we had an awesome artist guest who I couldn't make fit the metaphor at all.

Thursday

Ger had to work on Thursday, so I was able to begin my weekend early by picking up Peter Beagle and his Minion/Lackey/Cohort/Friend Connor Cochran from the airport…and giving them the ride back to the hotel began my weekend's story. Peter is a masterful weaver of myth, so hearing of his last time in the area some forty years previous was like hearing the highlights of a great book not like hearing someone's memories. This became more apparent when we were able to join him at his table at the GoH dinner (a fantastic choice by Jess, for the record…an Asian buffet) and hear his and Connor's banter, jokes, and stories. We got a chance to see most of the other GoHs (and more than a few friends that we haven't seen for a long time) before an awkward closing speech (seriously awkward…as in, the phrase “I really don't know much about you” was used to introduce one of the guests, shortly after referring to the the guest's significant other as his “girlfriend-wife-date-thingie”…that kid of awkward) closed things out. At meal's end, Peter had been up for something near to forty hours, so we got him back to the hotel—it should be noted that we got him back to the hotel amidst his protestations that he didn't want to seem ungracious—and let them get some rest before the weekend really kicked off.
Upon our return to the hotel, we met up with Dawn, Greg, and Leane, who hadn't eaten yet. After a bit of discussion, we determined that Ger and I would be happy to accompany the group to PF Chang's to make asses of ourselves while they ate. And oh, make asses of ourselves we did!*

Friday

Friday, I arrived on site to find a bit of a mess. Nothing major was going wrong, per se, but there was a bit of a lack of organization. I ran around for a bit and helped coordinate things with the hotel, while hanging out with friends. The clusterfuck was generally settled within a few hours (with the notable exception of some issues that should have been dealt with pre-con and now were entirely un-deal-with-able). Once that was done, I had time to kill while I waited for my panels to start. Mostly, we just kind of hung out until the first one—Introduction to ConFusion—hit at 6pm, in which I largely sat and gave additional points of information for whatever topic was meandered across during a rather disorganized info-dump by my co-presenter. At 7pm the AASFA board convened to give out on-the-spot grants in a very Dragon's Den style…only with a few less pairs of pants. The proceedings were entertaining, one involved the PF Chang's story coupled with interpretive dance and one involved random acts of randomness, but I hope that in future versions of this people grasp the importance of putting on a good show when they make their pitch. In all, we provided financing for a liquors panel, a massive room party and some liquor beverage to go with, Jello brains for the consuite, and lube wrestling in the pool area (which ultimately got canned by the hotel for liability reasons). That completed my responsibilities to the convention for the day, so we moseyed on to opening ceremonies to be bored.
The boredom was short lived.
After a moderately stumbling opening ceremonies-style introduction to the convention by ConChair Jessi Zerwas, the guests of honor each introduced themselves, beginning with Peter Beagle. Catherynne Valente followed with *the* speech which so knocked the audience on its collective ass…as I said on Twitter immediately following, “GoH speech by @catvalente was the single greatest I've heard...beautiful, literary, funny, and entirely ecapsulating why we are here! **
The normal conventiony-time madness happened throughout the evening (up to and including a noise complaint only mildly more surreal than the noise woes Penguicon is dealing with in that this complaint involved a volunteer staying in the volunteer crash space complaining of noise), but generally we just wandered the (relatively abysmal) party scene. There were, however, two high-notes on the party circuit…the first, a semi-private (in that they did not do much announcing) party themed as a fancy bar full of fancy drinks and run by Tammy, Erik, Kevin, and (I'm told) a fourth person whose name I do not know offhand. I was mixed a non-alcoholic soda beverage (which caused the normal moment of concern for me as I stared at my glass and hoped-hoped-hoped it was going to be non-alcoholic) that was absolutely delicious (thank you Tammy!). I was thankful to see that others had tipped as heavily as I did in thanks for this awesome contribution to the con. The second was the KITH themed party thrown by Moonbeam, Dan, and others (I think) that was entertaining…clearly a lot of thought and time was put into doing it big, and it showed. Ultimately, the length of the day and utter exhaustion got the better of us, and Ger and I passed out around 2am.

Saturday

First, let me say that crashing in a room with the kids is a somewhat different con experience night-wise than Ger and I are used to. That said, I managed to rake in a whopping five hours of sleep on Friday night, which about the amount that I normally manage all weekend at an average con, so perhaps their presence was good for that. It was also great for breakfast, because at con I tend to just fail to eat entirely until someone reminds me, with children I have a built-in reminder that meals need to happen. I will probably not mention the children much in this narrative, if only because Cody essentially existed in the gaming room for every waking hour, whereas Amber spent her time divided between KidFusion (which was yet another amazing effort by Lisa…next year is going to be rough with her as Fan GoH rather than KidFusion awesomeness generator) and hanging out with a gaggle of children doing their own thing. While I don't mention it here much, just assume that periodically throughout this weekend there were all-too-brief visits from the children and constant text message check-ins (“still here in med room” from Cody and “Kidfusion” from Amber, mostly).
As the kids were finishing their game of “cram breakfast into faces as quickly as possible to abandon lame-old-dad in favor of fun” The Ferrett and Gini wandered into the dining area and agreed to join me for a bit. It was nice, actually being able to sit and have a conversation with them without their usual envoy or the hustle and bustle of surrounding con folk as it was ridiculously early by con standards. Discussion of fandom, collectible card games, and Yu Gi Oh thug life ensued until I realized that I was in danger of being late to my first panel of the morning.
The morning version of the Intro to ConFusion panel was in sharp contrast to that of the previous evening. I was on the schedule with Anne and David, our Fan GoH, and both seemed far more prepared and interested in telling our one new participant about the convention's history, how to get involved and meet people, and what to do that is fun at the convention. The only downside, unlike the previous evening, no hot ladies gave me their room number this time (sorry I never made it up ladies…call me!). Shortly thereafter, several of us made our way to the Concierge Lounge for the Improv Panel featuring Carrie, Dawn, and Greg with special guest Josh, who was fresh off a red-eye and utterly exhausted. The panel was hilarious, and had a better turnout than it has seen in the past. Chris' Loch Ness Pterodactyl was a riot, as was Skennedy's paranoid schizophrenic. I, as always, participated…and I was reminded why I don't do improv comedy…I'm just not as quick of wit as people that are actually good at it. If I were to make any improvement to the panel, I would make it an easy hour longer; just when things got going, the panel was done.
Once done, we all made our way downstairs to hit the Social Media panel, featuring Mike Reznick, Cat Valente, Sarah Zettel, Dawn, and The Ferrett, which became the Jer_ show briefly in the middle, prompting Cat to state more than once that everyone is awful to me…needless to say, with my ego, it was a good time for me. A lot of very interesting points were made about how everyone is using social media as a method for advertising one's self or for building community. A particularly amusing exchange between Reznick and Cat then between Cat and Greg resulted in some fairly amusing quotes that stuck with us long into the SMOScast later in the evening…and with any luck, it will be usable when I do the editing. During the panel, I also decided to manipulate some FourSquare locations so that it would be more useful for the convention, so I registered two of the Salon rooms and the Concierge Lounge as individual destinations. With luck, we can use this to help track popularity of certain panels at Penguicon or next year's ConFusion. It won't be great data, but it will be interesting tracking. Oh, it is worth noting that, mid-panel, my hive-mind failed me for the first time by entirely failing to provide me with Sarah Zettel's Twitter ID.
We all quickly bailed on the meet and greet segment of the panel to catch Greg, Anne, and David giving the SMOF: How to Run a Con panel, which was informative and interesting and often funny. Quite a bit of time was spent talking about launching a convention, and quite a bit was spent discussing the facility aspect of the event, which lends credence to my belief that this part of it more than any other is mystifying to many. That fact explains why when I do the relatively minimal amount that I do for the con with regards to the hotel, it is so well received. The single most important fact, however, is that Greg was renamed at this panel and shall henceforth be named “Senor Greggypants the Twinkle-Toed.”
By the time we were done with the panel, it was definitely time for dinner. Since the kids had their dinner covered by the KidFusion pizza party and Ger had duties related to liaising, I was on my own, so I joined a rapidly increasing group of folks to hit a local coney island. By the time we got to Kirby's we rolled deep enough to fill a table that cut a swath down the center of the place; Josh, Senor Greggypants, Dawn, Lucy, Scott, Kirby, Joe, Katie, Rachel, Nuri, James and I all hung out, had fun, were entertaining enough that we were being photographed and video-recorded by a nearby table of teens, and ultimately scared the shit out of those teens.*** Oh, and my wife might have missed an attempted guy-on-guy kiss at some point there.
Dawn, Greg, and I stopped by the liquor store to pick up the brown liquors for the panel and grabbed several nice choices which went over quite well. During the panel, one of my biggest convention pet peeves reared his head—the annoying attendee and his sense of entitlement. About two-thirds of the way into the panel, an individual wandered in, waited about one minute, and interrupted the panelists to interject some random fact that was both not entirely correct and covered about five minutes previous. He immediately turned to walk out when Greg make a sarcastic barb related to hating it when people show up late to a panel and interrupt with useless trivia…because, you know, that's kinda what happened. Instantly, some asshole in the audience interrupted with his Captain Save-a-Douche uniform on display, "I showed up on time, and I've been enjoying this panel, but if that's going to be your attitude, fuck you." At which point he walked out. Seriously. I…fucking…hate…people. Fortunately, Greg laughed it off, snarked, and moved on. The rest of the panel appears to have gone swimmingly.
After that, we all went back to Mr. Twinkle-Toes' room to “rehearse” the scripted portion of the evening's SMOScast…and by rehearse I mean look at it for the first time for all but Dawn and I. After some reading and some light notes, I ran downstairs to print. I was thwarted for about fifteen minutes by some jackhole who was playing Mafia Wars and Farmville on the business center computer. Now, let me preface the following by saying that, while I think both are foolish to the nth degree, I don't have anything against Mafia Wars or Farmville or any other stupid Facebook game. I do, on the other hand, have a problem with some pitiful chump who is so addicted to their pathetic Facebook game that they feel the need to tie up the sole business center computer for extended periods of time to play in the middle of a convention. Sir, go kill yourself, you definitely have no reason to go on. Seriously, this is not a joke, go take your own life. We will wait.
If you are the individual described above (heretofore referred to as “Cockboy”), and you are still reading this, I'm even more disappointed in you than I was before. No commitment sir; none at all!
Once Cockboy was done, I got my printing done and ran upstairs to get ready for the SMOScast…well, I got ready to wait until the Port panel that ran long finished (but fuck it, I wasn't going to rush them, because they appeared to be having a ball and, it's not like we were on a schedule) and until I could get my Ubuntu laptop to notice that I had a microphone (I never did get it to work, we ended up loading the software on Greg's Windows 7 laptop, much to Microsoft evangelist Josh's delight and Ubuntu evangelist Trevor's dismay). Then we were off. The scripted portion, a recounting of the saga of the Penguicon noise complaint done in the style of an old time superhero radio show, went very well. The rest of the 'cast was absolutely hilarious, and almost assuredly unusable. There is this fantastic part, however, where Greg is joking about the social media panel—specifically the exchange between Mike (Reznick), Cat (Valente), and himself—mocking Mike and Cat's responses when Mike Reznick walks in the door saying, "I heard my name."
As Greg reiterated his Mike impression (which involved the phrase “Buy my books then go die”) for Reznick, to which Reznick responded, in hilarious fashion, “That's pretty accurate, actually.” In all, the live show went very well, as it generally does, and editing should be a nightmare, as it generally is. Such is the nature of a bunch of people with no concept of boundaries recording things they think are funny. The part that is most important to me, however, is that some of the funniest people I know got together and had fun with one another. That…is…awesome! After the show, we hung out and conversed for a brief while, but Ger was pumpkining hard so we called it a night around 2, despite some really enticing hot-tub offers.

Sunday

Sunday began as way-too-early as did Saturday, wherein the kids and I grabbed a Consuite breakfast (thank the great gods of Consuite for Pop Tarts, Nutrigrain bars, and cereal) while I was told tales of things that went wrong in the night. After breakfast, I cruised downstairs only to have some more of the events of the evening related to me by some of the hotel staff…all I can say is I hope the convention tipped the staff well, because they took considerable care of us in several ways on Saturday evening—and if the tales I've heard from both hotel and congoers of senior concom's handling of some situations (both by a drunken concom member and a sober-and-should-know-better one) are true, we should be ashamed of ourselves. We mostly hung out with friends, had a fantastic goodbye lunch with Dawn, Greg, and Leane, then killed some time waiting for closing ceremonies.
While waiting for closing ceremonies to begin, Nuri leaned over and asked me if this shindig was in need of a tree. I agreed that it was, so we ran out into the hall to retrieve the Christmas tree left over from the Great Tree Caper** and wheeled it through the crowded hallway into the ballroom where the walkway was not wide enough to get the tree up front. There was a moment where Nuri and I stopped and we considered moving an entire column of chairs to make this work…ultimately, we just parked the tree in the back as a spectator. The GoHs talked about their favorite parts of the convention—Peter Beagle spoke of how spoiled the convention made him feel (which can be attributed directly to my darling wife, despite Peter having said both of our names…I was support staff, she was the orchestrator of any pampering that was done)—and Sooj sang another amazing song, prompting me to note in Twitter that I don't know how I've gone this long without hearing more of her music. Jess thanked select individuals for help then someone from the back (Freon if memory serves) had the presence of mind to ask the convention committee to stand and take their applause. After a few more disorganized add-on thoughts to an emptying room (note to prospective conchairs: have a plan going into opening and closing ceremonies), the con was over.
Nuri, James and I quickly bolted to the back of the room and grabbed the tree to hustle it into its final appearance at the feedback session. This time, Christmassy McTree was able to get a seat up at the front table, so there were no hurt feelings. The gripe session was…interesting, I suppose. Several of us noted that the people in the session might have attended a different convention. Suffice to say that after around 2 hours of mind-numbing torture during which very few actual action-items were discussed, I was ready to leave. Anybody that sat through that probably has a stronger understanding of why Penguicon shuts down the “me too's” so quickly; a properly managed feedback panel is invaluable, improperly managed it is without value—and those don't mean the same thing.
Finally, the lot of us headed to Red Robin for post-con dinner full of back patting, relaxing, withdrawal, and not a small amount of quietly planning for the next convention.

Summary

In all, the first convention I “didn't work” since becoming involved in this community was fun. There were definitely lessons to be learned, but I had a great time. My kids loved everything and could not speak highly enough about the gaming, kidfusion, and consuite. A few days following, we still aren't back to 100% on our sleep and we're still working on recovering; something must have gone right. I had a great time and it was a nice warmup to Capricon coming up in a week and change.

* The story of PF Chang's is a long story, and one that doesn't lend itself well to the written word. Ask me about it sometime.

** Now, the Great Tree Caper is almost assuredly going to be an entry of it's own. I'll link it in here when I get around to writing it.

*** This, too, is a fun story that I'll either write or you'll have to ask me about it. When Greg says “all the big guys, get by the door” there will be a story at the other end.

ConRep: OmegaCon 1

or, GETTING THERE WAS NO FUN - STAYING WASN'T A PICNIC EITHER

OmegaCon happened for the first time at the Birmingham Sheraton in downtown Birmingham Alabama. Yours Truly reported on this inaugural effort!

My flight got off the ground 2 hrs late thanks NWA. Gate C19,
9:30-Onboard computer said something's wrong with the engine. So they replaced the computer. New computer said 'Um, you shouldn't fly. There's something wrong with this engine..."

1/4 mile forced march to gate c46 and a waiting replacement plane.
12:15.AM, sixty souls and a tortured stewardess. They offered free beers for consolation. I had Mountain Dew. Keeping my edge.

Round trip air fare - Birmingham ALA: $365 or royalties from 121 copies of AS1

Quoth Anne's text: take the shuttle to the Sheraton. Okay... No shuttle. Taxi. 65mph in a 35 zone. brief, exhilarating, illegal. $15 later, walked into the Sheraton Birmingham (low of 60'F btw) just as Last call for Alcohol went out.

Kept low profile, didn't introduce myself. Didn't recognize anyone else,
of course to my great disadvantage... I was standing next to Shaun and Nathan for an hour without a clue.
Hunger sets in. SubWay open. Outside. No, no walk-in. We have a
service window. She was scared because I appear to be wearing a SubWay employee uniform under those lighting conditions and thought she was being replaced!

Foot-long Sub sandwich:$7.50 or 2 copies of AS1

Anne presumably asleep, no one here believes in leaving contact list for front desk, so almost got thrown out of the hotel at 3:30am
Quoth hotel floor manager:"give me a name, any name to verify this with."
Gave the Conchair's name. No dice. Gave Anne's name. Anne Who? ALMOST said RICHARD HATCH (oh, yeah, let's just call his room at 3:30 am and ask him if he knows some bloke named freon). LUCKILY-
OmegaCon's man Nathan and local smof Paige Smith wandered past looking to unlock Dealer room for 5am(!) setup (for local TV spot) and I latched onto them long enough to prevent eviction from the lobby.

Me under the Big Lamp at the hotel cyber ward. I shared the lodgings with Doc Taylor and Doc Bradley most of the weekend.

I found out very quickly that the hotel wireless was willing and able, and furthermore a 100MHz P1 laptop works better than the gaggle of GigaHertz eye-candy hardwired to the hotel network. Lyssa and Kevin found out the hard way.

This became my War Room. My Inner Sanctum. My Public Rest Area. No room please - Hotel Rate:$200/night. Urk. I'd have to write a sequel and a novel to afford that.

Waiting for Anne to wake up and tell me who's room she's in.

Very heavy saving throw reflexes not to volunteer - I am a panelist in
waiting. I am a panelist in waiting. Repeat. Deep breath. Coffee. Deep breath. Have already helped a few and it's not 5am yet. Have to watch that.

Having a plan that allows for adventure: priceless.

Jedi Charlie Stephenson and Paige Smith are costume gurus down here.

They're overseeing the live news report for ABC channel 33 - showing off one or two of their best.

Charlie stepped on a pair of scissors last week while prepping for Omegacon, hence the cast and crutches.

Another fella is showing off awesome use of floor mats - as armor on his Predator costume.

A note on culture clash - Sheraton also hosting Friday classes for the
local AMA. Explains the sudden inrush of fen dressed as nurses - uh oh, they ARE nurses. Guess what? They have ribbons from Larsen's on their badges. So they LOOK like fen! I'd rather bring back buttons.

Unfortunately, the ten or so College Basketball teams here, from all over the South do not look like fen. They're amused. And amazingly easy-going.

At least it isn't a barmitzvah.

Most of the Gohs had to find their own ways to the hotel apparently and somebody's offsite right now making a few thousand copies of the program book. hahahaha things do go awry... Hey! First year. Fuggeddaboudit.

Lyssa says Arrrrr... - first pirate I've spotted today. She's from Western MI actually.

There's a cool Duffman!

'Grandma' Ivey poses for photographers.

Anne just steps through the door. Apparently Gary is up to his eyeballs in tentative(!) lit programming and corrections. It's gonna be weird.

A few years ago I ventured out of Michigan for the first time to take in Marcon 39. One of the stunning things about the experience was that everywhere I looked, I saw people I thought I recognized. Not just by face, but by mannerisms, clothing, and what they did AT the con. It was incredibly spooky, y'know, like that episode of RECESS when the schoolyard kids went intramural for a softball(?) game and met their Doppelgangers on the opposing team.

Yes there are Doppelgangers here at OmegaCon. At least two Anne clones so far and one each of myself and Paul Haas. There's a Tim Murphy doppelganger. Anne had two, but since she was shackled to Operations, she never saw them; lucky us, or badaboom.

Andrea Dean Van Scoyoc's (above) husband is William Jones' doppelganger. Was that Joy Rosenberry darting through the hallway on a quest for protein? Nope. This place is spooky.

Ooo, Peter Chewbacca Mayhew is on Fox pushing
Omegacon. He'll be back later after touring the tv stations.

Back under the Lamp, I realize that somebody is playing Star Wars Ep 3 on the hotel channel. Okay, bonus. Never saw it before.

THE HYJINKS ENSUE:

Programming for OmegaCon's literature track was dynamite. I have to get this out of the way first off, because no matter how you cut it, it had and lived up to its potential from the word go. Every panelist I met this weekend seemed perfectly 'in' his/her element in each panel I attended, and generally held their panel in front of a flatteringly sized and receptive crowd.

That said, I should remark on how they cut it.

Friday afternoon Omegacon was still awaiting program BOOKS. As Registration rolled its doors open for the light crowd at noon, the convention was relying on looseleaf program schedules, which we knew right away were going to be superseded by something bound, and much less error prone. As the evening marched on, program books did indeed arrive, but with a glaring omission: THE ENTIRE SCIENCE TRACK. Oopsie.

I'm under the impression that amends were swift and effective. Shaun, the convention god, quickly had a room found and cobbled up a time schedule for the science panels, which were headed up by such as Doc Taylor and David Finkelstein. The track rocked, and it's prime real estate was most enjoyed because the signage (eventually) pointed members directly up the elevators to the Science Room, and all was well for the remainder of the weekend.

My plan was to get audio from panels all weekend to feed Radio Free and possibly SFOHA if they'll take it. So out comes the PDA, armed with a memory card that boast a capacity of some three or four hours of recording time. Oh, how soon the plan crumbles.

Oh - and it was six before they stopped Episode 3, which had been REPEATING on the hotel channel. I think if I'd seen it once more I believe I could recite it. At which point I shall entreat upon someone to take my life.

7:30 pm I caught 90% of the Crackpot Science panel, and the ol' PDA beeped 'out of space' forty-eight minutes in. Cause unknown until later. That panel aired 8pm EST Tuesday March 18 and featured M Keaton and Chris Jackson.

Finding the fault of my audio equipment was easy but befuddling. Did you know that you could actually fragment a CompactFlash card? Me neither.

9pm - A tornado goes through Atlanta a hundred miles or so east of here. It's on all the televisions and half of the patrons know someone living 'round thereaways. Not great news.

1:30am - Anne and I discover the 'evil' Waffle House outside town with MK, Cheryl and Derek. Derek, by the by, drives like he's got a trunk full of moonshine and stolen DVD players. Loved it. Great company, and believe it or not, the food was super despite coming from a franchised oubliette off the side of the road.

3am A second storm front tried to blow the roof off the Chez-Raton after an hour of torrential horizontal rain, and then came a burst of pea sized hail. Roof leaked in a dozen places. During this the hotel was swarmed with dust bunnies and had to be vacuumed.

SATURDAY!

10am: Lunch with Anne at Casey's, the grille on the first floor. Tomato Basil soup deserving of awards. Coffee. Everything sings praise to Starbuck's, around here.

Noon - My main event panel featured "Reading like a Editor" (sic) with Julie Cochrane, Jackie Gamber, Baen Editor Jim Minz, local Michigan editor William Jones, and guerilla panelist MKeaton filling in (sound here got a little twitchy because they were at a long table). I told Jackie later at her author table that she was captivating - she had her hair down and several times her 'Clairol commercial-ready' pose had me cursing the camera's batteries for having given up the ghost.

A lunch break saw me frantically uploading RadioFree soundbytes and checking my email. Spotting Jim Minz and Doc Taylor, I wandered over, sat with them for a couple of drinks and chewed fat about Baen. Returning to the Big Lamp, I found that some kind souls (Juan and Hulda, who I met at random some hours afterward and talked with for a spell) had turned my laptop, PDA, vest and cell phone in to lost and found.

I got a tour of the Chez-Raton Batcave, and claimed my paraphernalia as the kind security man showed me his bank of monitors, the likes of which lies somewhere deep in the bowels of every hospitality megaplex. Not a sight for the average traveler. I daresay, an exclusive.

I took the initiative and spoofed the panel 'Why use Pseudonyms' for twenty minutes, becoming a willing opening act for authors Mike Resnick, Louise Marley and Anne Aguirre (pronounced 'a-GEER-ey' and watch this name!).

10:30pm - Having met them on the dealer floor earlier in the day and photographed them eating lunch en masse, I hosted the interview panel with WANDERING MEN, a crew of writers for a D20 game systems designer who have started a book series together. They happily sat down with me and talked about their unique collaboration. That interview aired 8pm EST Wednesday March 19.

A supple conversation with David Finkelstein and wife made great intermission between panels. Amid this were sporadic requests from Operations to spread the swag books from Pyr around a little, which I did with 'done-that-before' flair.

Into the evening, the Workshop Track, which featured MB Weston and local author Jeremy Lewis, greeted me. Jeremy's family surprised us all with a BUFFET TABLE at the literature room on Saturday night. At a convention with NO CONSUITE, this was a very pleasant little secret which filled my tummy with spinach pies, chicken casserole dip, crackers, and a fruit plate or two. As such, we simply HAD to put the food somewhere because another panel was coming up - oh, dear what can a starving author do...

THAT'S NOT ALL, WHAT ELSE DID I WIN?

At Midnight, rumor that the fourth floor had open alcohol threatened to shut down the convention's own party. A hurried trip upstairs to 'investigate' yielded fen hurriedly emptying liquor into the gullets of those who were interested (and legal) before any more than Hotel security came along. Well, I was just at the right place at the right time, and imbibed a shot of absolutely terrifying (mission accomplished) tequila. With a glass of red wine (oh, take it! It'll go bad!) and a further peck of Crown Royal under my arm, I wandered sated to the Auditorium. What to my wandering eyes...

A Midnight Performance of WAR OF THE WORLDS (both nights) by Lee Shackleford Radio- I caught a stunning Saturday show and met the players later. I heartily recommend a radio-style performance at any con where I get a choice.

SUNDAY

Having to put down that starstruckedness was hard. Radio stars, all of them. I have an ear for that.

Anyway I plunked down for an early morning talk with Baen Editor Jim Minz and Doc Taylor, which was somewhat torn asunder by an argument about the War, but not before I found out Jim also sorely missed the golden age of GOOD CGI television - yeah we gabbed about REBOOT.

Just before tabletop hostilities peaked, I dragged Red Ranger, a fellow whom I like to think I rescued from political maelstrom, off for a three hour unscheduled introduction to "how Microsoft is laughing at us all", a 2am panel which I hosted to an audience of two. Y'all know I'm good at these. Red didn't fall asleep - forthwith he claims an AS1 freebie, signed and with my profuse thanks for entertaining an old fellow pirate. Long live the fighters, Red!

9:00am - Fresh and perky, sat in on "The Business of SF", a standard panel at cons everywhere, and a mingling point for writers, authors and publishing names from all over. Always informative and this time entertaining, we heard from Lou Anders, Lit Guest of Honor David Drake, Claire Eddy, Jim Minz, and Eric Flint.

Now, while I didn't catch the blockbuster panels and events at the Con, it's hard to say that I shortchanged myself in any measure when all weekend I was running into people like Ben Bova, David Weber, Richard Hatch, Billy Tackett and Patrick Burns. Suffice it to say they're doing FINE.

Finally bumped into David Kopaska-Merkel at the dealer's room - David's reputation precedes him: dailycabal.com Also, a version of PIG PONG (@2001) was the funniest short-short story to air on Radio Free Fandom when we launched it in 2001 http://michiganfandom.org:8000/. So sayeth the greenhorn who narrated it. 'Nother copy of AS1 to him with regards!

7pm - Nothing left to see? Hell no. Adventuring bands of fen caught me up and swept the hotel for stragglers.

Anne reveals who went through the muscatel cider...

The Dead Dog Party committee at OmegaCon - Break into the convention suite, get a free Tee shirt! (just kidding)

- my compadres Kelly, Doc Bradley and Anne stood at the helm. I worked competently with what I had and served hors d'oeuvres. They went to 3am, folks! Oldster that I was, I fizzled at about 1:30. (I couch this slightly with the small fact that I hadn't slept since Thursday morning.) Trust me, I didn't awake with a jerk, ;-)

Monday morning saw Anne Off to the fabled Shuttle bus, and bided my time for my flight.

Packing it in Monday afternoon (damn, what a long weekend) found me entering mellow denouement-mode with Gary Babb, the guy this whole thing spiraled from, in my opinion. No finer man. Profuse thanks to Gary for his hand at keeping the best first-con attempt I've witnessed in decades firmly grounded and ready for anything, and for watching it unfold with me all week.

Y'all have fun, and thank you so much.

freon

[final edits pending]

Technorati Tags: omegacon,conrep,literature,fandom,alabama,fiction

Penguicon 5.0 ConRep - by Janine Stinson

The Marriage Between Zones Three, Four, and Five: Penguicon 5.0, Troy Hilton, Troy, Michigan,

April 20-22, 2007

Now that Doris Lessing has won a Nobel prize for literature, it'll be fun to use the titles of her Canopus in Argos series SF novels as often as possible (yes, the nyah-nyah factor is included). But to be serious (relatively) for a moment, Penguicon could (if you squint just right) be seen as a confluence of science fiction (SF), computers, and SF fandom. Don't ask me what Zones One and Two are; go read the books!

One must note, at the outset, that the concomm of this convivial con make it quite easy to register for attendance. Pre-registration can be accomplished via regular mail with a check or money order payable to Penguicon, online with PayPal at penguicon.org, or at pre-con events scheduled at other cons before Penguicon. Their Web site provided dates and locations where pre-regs could be had, and day rates for the con were available for those who couldn't attend all three days.

It's a tradition among some fen who write conreps to provide a kind of travelogue format for their reports. I find this format dull and boring even in the best reports, so I won't use it here. If anyone's curious, my journey from northern Michigan was fine, I missed one turn, and since I stayed at a relative's house instead of the con hotel, I have no notes on the Hilton apart from public areas.

Six GoHs! One would think one was attending WorldCon with that many honored guests, but it's just one example of the encompassing nature of Penguicon's initial purpose (to bring together SF fans and computer folks). With each Penguicon, however, more areas of fannish and computer interest are added, to the point where it seems all aspects of SF fandom and computer use are included.

The guests this year were Bruce Schneier, Founder and Chief Technical Officer of Counter Pane Internet Security, Inc. (Tech GoH); Christine Peterson, Foresight Nanotech Institute, credited with the term "Open Source Software" (Science GoH); John Kovalic of Dark Tower Comics and Munchkin card game creator (Gaming GoH); Randy Milholland of Something Positive webcomic (Comics GoH); Elizabeth Bear (Author GoH); and Charlie Stross, Linux and Perl journalist and programmer (Author GoH).

Penguicon has also built a tradition of having what it calls "nifty" guests. These guests are people invited by the concomm to attend; whether their travel and accommodations costs are comped as are the GoHs, I don't know, but there's probably some incentive to show up. Some probably attend on their own dime just because Penguicon is fun. In 2007, the Nifty Guests were Rob Balder (creator of clip-art comic strip PartiallyClips online, associate editor of fanzine Nth Degree, filker, card-game co-creator of Get Nifty); The Ferrett (popular LJ blogger, editor-in-chief of StarCityGames.com, writer of several computer books); Clif Flynt (TCL guru); Eric Raymond (author of The Cathedral and the Bazaar, editor of The New Hacker's Dictionary, president of the Open Source Initiative, your basic computer ghod); John Scalzi (SF writer, blogger); Karl Schroeder (SF writer, technology professional); The Great Luke Ski (famed filker, artist); Tom Smith (another famous filker); Sarah Zettel (SF writer); Gini Judd (popular blogger); Sarah Monette (SF writer); Nick Sagan (TV screenwriter of several produced Star Trek-franchise episodes, novelist, creator of the phrase "Hello from the children of planet Earth" which was inscribed and placed aboard Voyagers I and II, and son of the late Carl Sagan); Howard Tayler (professional cartoonist, former Linux pro, inventor of the Chupaqueso [lovely fried cheese]).

Con chair John Guest ran what appeared to be a happy ship, reins just tight enough to keep it all moving forward, but loose enough to allow committee members and department heads to think for themselves when situations required it. Matt Arnold is a programming guru; he handled Head of Programming and Fannish Programming duties as well as handing out ribbons that said BWOP (and of course I've forgotten what that stands for) and writing a very good essay for the program guide called "The Knowledge Ecology."

Markell Lynch and Dan DeSloover put together an easy-to-use program book crammed with every imaginable con activity and then some. Charlie Stross' program-book photo (he's been bald for a while now, so this photo was like camouflage for the famous) and the footers caused some amusement. Lynch and DeSloover provided an excellent layout design, with photos to go with the guests in nearly every case and a logical program grid. The only frustrations I had with the program guide were those of my own making; I was in the Hilton at 10:30 on Friday morning, wondering where everyone was. Silly me. I forgot that most of the other people working at and/or attending this event had jobs.

According to "Introduction to Penguicon" panelist Rob Landley, the estimated attendance from pre-registration was 800-900 people. There were plenty of one-day attendees, from what I saw, so at one point or another the total might have hit a thousand warm bodies.

The Troy Hilton was big enough to make that many people seem comfy, and not so large that one tended to get lost. I never felt crowded at any of the panels I attended, nor crowded walking the halls even during the busiest times of the con. The huge Computer Lounge, at first, surprised me -- but then I remembered there were a lof ot Linux and open-source (OS) software people around, and it made perfect sense.

With eight programming tracks (fandom, software, crossover, games, anime, onstage, swordfighting and food & drink), anyone who claimed boredom had to be lying.

The Sanctuary Press Writers Workshop staff consisted of Anne Zanoni, Sarah Shefferly, David Loius Edelman, Willian Jones, M. Keaton, Tobias S. Buckell, Karl Schroeder, Elizabeth Bear and Michael A. Andaluz.

Panels I attended appeared well-populated. Some of the computer-track panels looked more sparse; when I passed doors just opening after some of them ended, I saw 5-10 people in the room, where the panel consisted of one person. The sfnal panels looked very well attended, and of course the chocolate ritual was packed. Oh, didn't I mention the chocolate ritual yet? It's exactly what you think it is, and a great deal of fun, as chocolate-related events should be.

Volunteering at Penguicon is certainly worth anyone's time. I ended up paying the top registration fee ($45) due to my last-minute decision to attend, and only had to work 6 hours to earn that back. Verifying volunteer hours worked was easy and painless (most of the time), and those who paid their registration by check got their checks back, those who paid via PayPal or credit card received cash, and this con reports it makes a profit every year. Besides, volunteering to work in the con suites was great fun, though tiring for an old phart like me. But I wasn't the only one over 40 volunteering, and it was refreshing to be around energetic, funny, reliable people while working. And the people who came into the con suites (I worked both) were the same sort of folks.

The dealers room seemed smallish for my tastes (I like lots of options - I get bored easily), but Penguicon is generally considered a regional con. However, besides the expected booksellers, an almost-instant T-shirt imprinting service (very popular), two jewelers (also very popular -- jewelry isn't just for women, guys), Renfaire clothing, and genre-related items were also on offer. Perhaps the Penguicon crowd isn't known for deep pockets, but the dealers room looked well attended most times I passed it or visited there.

Room scheduling for panels seemed well-thought-out in most cases, from what I saw. Inevitably, there was the lone panelist in a room big enough for at least three more panelists and a handful in the audience, but these things happen. From the panels I attended, the panelists seemed well prepared for their panel topic and the moderators kept things on track.

Penguicon 5.0 was the first con I've attended where I acquired ribbons. I found this a fun and engaging activity, and I do like silly things, so this fit right in. My collection included Compiler of Dreams from Freon, the first one I got, because he was the first person I saw whom I actually knew when I registered at the con; I Got My Rocks at the Amber Fox (the dearlers' room merchant who sold me the two silver dragon rings, one with a malachite cabochon); Chocolate Clergy (from the Chocolate Ritual panel Friday night, along with a prayer card); Do You B.W.O.P.?; "Not" Busted (I wrote in the "Not"); It's Not 42, It's Me; Consuite Staff (in last year's purple because Shar Nims didn't have any of the current year color); Busted (for being not busted; the qualifying question was "Have you ever been busted for anything?"); Tell Me Who You Are (from Charlie Stross, but I didn't; I just chatted with him briefly a few times); and "Nobody ever imagined a band of orcs would steal a database table." (Charlie Stross gifted me with this one after I complimented him on his International Pixel-Stained TechnoPeasant Day T-shirt). One woman had so many ribbons she wore them as a stole or a scarf (the phrase "ribbon slut" is most accurate here, and she described herself that way).

I skipped Friday's Geeks With Guns due to exhaustion from the previous day's drive. My pre-arranged lunch with a friend at 12:30 never happened. She'd said she'd been ill earlier that week when I talked to her on Friday, and as it turned out, she had in fact been sick all day Saturday. Quelle dommage. Discovering that Ops isn't supposed to open until 3 p.m., I grow impatient; I want to start having fun NOW.

My annoyance was amply assuaged with a sumptuous lunch at Charlie's Crab House, which is attached to the Hilton. Charlie's belies its name: it's an upscale, classy eatery and bar/lounge, looking more like what I imagined the dining room of a gentlemen's club to be rather than a fancy restaurant. Con wisdom advises one good meal a day, so this was going to be it for me. I have to give the wait staff props for treating me like I'd walked in with diamonds driping off my fingers, and I made sure to tip my waitperson appropriately for such excellent service. My French dip came with too many French fries, but that was my fault, I could have specified half as much or asked for a substitution.

Friday afternoon around 2:15, I went up to the 2nd floor and helped with setup in both con suites, then went to registration a few hours later to sign in. Freon (aka Michael A. Andaluz, SF writer and masquerade master) had parked himself in a chair nearby, so I plonked down next to him afterward and nattered for a while. On receiving my first ribbon from him, I wondered briefly whether anyone would think it meant I was a writer, and joked about that thought later.

Having signed in, gotten my badge and various freebies from Registration and lobby tables (flyers for future cons, comics and graphic-novel artists and writers), I headed to the non-smoking con suite to relax and take a break before attending my first panel.

"Intro to Penguicon" got added after the program book was printed, so I was glad I'd seen the sign for it earlier. This is a very informative panel for Penguicon newcomers as well as con newbies in general. Attendees from the SF side are encouraged to ask questions of the Linux folks, especially in the Computer Lounge. I didn't get a chance to test this due to all the great SFnal programming, but the Computer Lounge, when I used it, wasn't very noisy even with the Chaos Toy in full-on mode and, given they had to use the standard hotel stacking-chair, reasonably comfortable for at least a 2-hour online session.

The Opening Ceremonies were hosted by conchair John Guest, dressed most nattily in a tuxedo (c'mon, go ahead and guess why). He introduced the GoHs and the Nifty Guests, most of whom were present, each of whom said at least a few words. When asked if he could dance, Bruce Schneier opted for the ConChair and Two Female GoHs Kickline (Peterson and Bear) response. Filker Tom Smith sang "March of the Penguicon" to commemorate Penguicon's fifth iteration, and he upheld his reputation as a sly, tricksy fellow with words and a guitar very well.

The DJ Brick dance was sparsely attended; apparently, it's the Saturday night dance most people will attend, not this one. However, this didn't bother me a bit, as I had dressed up to please myself and needed no one else to dance with, and in fact had the floor mostly to myself for the first 45 minutes. Not more than two dozen people total came and stayed for more than 10 minutes. One young man (younger than me, anyway) did as I did, and danced pretty much for the music and himself, and he was quite a good dancer. DJ Brick played all my music requests, and most everyone else's too, by the happy smiles on other dancers' faces. This is why con dances are so cool: you can go by yourself, with a partner or a group and have a great time. The youngers may be checking each other out, but I was there to dance, and dance I did; I stayed for over two hours, and hadn't planned for more than one.

I slipped in to Saturday's "Kaffeklatsche with Elizabeth Bear" just as it was getting started, and ended up sitting near Bear's end of the table. I'd brought my copy of her short-fiction collection, The Chains That You Refuse, in order to have something to ask questions about, in case other attendees ran out of ideas, but plenty of discussion ensued. At least a dozen people attended, including Bear's friend and sometime collaborator, Sarah Monette. The two writers spent some time discussing their collaborative efforts, and Bear spoke about the setttings of her Promethean Age books, researching the Shakespearean age, and answered questions. It was a relaxed, comfy version of Meet the Author, and everyone seemed to be pleased with the results. One woman admitted she'd be at the next panel Bear would be on, and said she hoped Bear didn't think she was being stalked, to which Bear replied, "Stalking can be good." I quipped, "You may regret saying that later."

After the Bear panel, I headed for the Computer Lounge to check email and read the news on Trufen.net, as well as make a brief from-the-con post there. I also read Peter Watts' Newscrawl, which was how I learned about SFWA president Howard Hendrix's very 'Net-public stand against Creative Commons licensing (he called writers who post their work under CCL online "scabs"), which provoked a storm of argument in protest. Follow me down this path for a moment: Isn't it odd that the president of the major (maybe even only) SF writers group is against a thing which has apparently increased print book sales for the writers (and one publisher, Baen) who've tried it so far? I mean, doesn't making one's fiction available through CCL pretty much amount to the same thing as browsing priviledges at the local bookstore? Here's another question: How much fiction has Howard Hendrix sold in the last three years? Hmmm. Do I smell sour grapes?...

By 4 p.m., the Con Suites were both in full swing, with at least three people on duty in the non-smoking suite at all times, likely due to all the special food events being held there, but also because there was TONS of food available. I heard someone say that over a hundred pounds of deli meats and cheeses were purchased for the weekend, and I think a store run had to be made by Sunday to get more. Understand, SF fen who are con-goers intend to stay awake as long as possible, in order to not miss anything that might be fun. The OS crowd stays awake all the time. ALL the time. I don't know when they sleep, if ever (are they they model for Nancy Kress' Sleepless, from Beggars In Spain? Who knows?).

The two con suites (one smoking, one non) were both fabulously stocked; the variety of items available, unexpected. The three fannish food groups (caffeine, salt, chocolate) were well-represented for the duration of the con, in more than one form each. I'd never heard of Open Cola before attending this con. What a concept! Caffeine came in coffee, colas, Penguin candies (the company is a sponsor), and chocolate, and smoking consuite (SC) maven Shar Nims told me that even after five years, she still has people unused to SF cons asking where they're supposed to pay for the consuite items. Poor dears. The amount of free (for paid attendees and guests) food and drink at this con would have staggered a medieval banquet staged for Henry VIII.

The nonsmoking consuite (NC) had medium to large crowds most times, probably because the liquid-nitrogen ice cream and Chupaqueso demos were held there, as well as the Brazilian steak service. This resulted in the NC suffering from over-programming at peak times ( LN ice cream sessions always brought a crowd), but the volunteers and con staff assigned to both suites powered through it all like worker ants. Plans afoot for next year to put the special food demos and services in their own room are in place for P6.0, which is a very good idea. Gophers and attendees alike will benefit from consuites that are less crowded.

Major props must be given to Shar Nims and Steve deHart, the smoking and non-smoking consuite ghods, respectively, for running what I can only describe as fabulous con suites. SF fen are used to finding coffee, hot water for tea, sodas and bheer (complete with Bheer Troll to check IDs so the concomm doesn't get hauled off to jail) to drink, and a variety of snackage and sandwich components to eat, along with perhaps some soup, chili, delivered pizza, and maybe hot dogs. This is not enough for the Penguicon crowd -- no, they had to have three types of coffee (regular, decaf, and something that probably amounted to jet fuel), bottled iced tea and bottled caffeinated & flavored waters in addition to all the other beverages, and the con's sponsor company, Penguin Caffeinated Mints and Energy Gum, provided several cases of their products in pocket tins that disappeared almost as fast as they were put out for the taking. Chocolates in penguin shapes and colors were offered and quickly snatched up. Crock pots, throughout the weekend, held everything from chili to meatballs to broccoli soup. Mountains of veggies piled on serving trays. No matter how crowded the consuites got, people were always (when I was there) friendly, accommodating, and willing to help even when not asked.

The special food events were, predictably, very popular. Liquid nitrogen ice cream tastes like standard ice cream, only kewler. Chupaquesos are fried cheese concoctions, to which meats and veggies can be added, made on an electric griddle. Brazilian steak is, well, what it says, but how it tastes...one will only know by trying it. Being a carnivore, I would give my right arm to have more of that steak.

This is the advantage of volunteering to work in the consuite: you get treated like a real person, with food and drink needs, by the Con Suite staff and your fellow gofers, and the special-foods events people will feed you. Copiously, if you let them. The pounds I shed on the dance floor Friday night could easily have been replaced in a few hours of working the con suites, if I'd eaten whatever I wanted. The lack of pre-packaged offerings was greatly appreciated; the smell of fresh food after four hours of playing Munchkin is irresistable.

The other advantage is that you get a chance to meet in person the people with whom you've only been in online contact. I managed to snag Eric Raymond's elbow long enough to introduce myself and remind him of why he might know my name (Steam Engine Time; long story, google it), and it was reassuring to see the light of recognition in his face.

The other place to meet people -- in this case, writers one admires -- is in the dealers room. Smart writers get to the dealers room at least once or twice during a con, because just being there is a great marketing tool for their work. The least stressful mode of doing this is for the writer to be wandering around the dealers room, and not sitting at a booth. This is how I came to have a copy of The Atrocity Archives signed by Charlie Stross. I recognized him, went up and complimented him on his T-shirt (I think it was the "Geek Orthodox" one, that day), and walked out later with a purchased, signed book.

After two hours of consuite work, I had to take a break. It was Work, too. I made a mental note that a sweatband for my forehead would have been of great use. Once I recovered with some rest, food, and water, I stopped at the signing table for Elizabeth Bear and Sarah Monette. I'd brought my copy of Bear's collection but, not having read any of Ms. Monette's work, I apologized that I didn't have anything of hers for her to sign. She was quite gracious about it. The three of us made small talk until their hour was up and it was time for them to grab some dinner.

"Technological Singularity? Or Technological Maximum?" featured panelists Charlie Stross, Christine Peterson, Karl Schroeder, and Eric Raymond. Occasionally high-flying (like way over my head) conversation between panelists and audience members on how valid Vernor Vinge's idea of the Singularity is now, and whether it's inevitable or not, included government, data processing,

the idea of the post-human, how the ability to multi-task on the Internet either improves or worsens a person's life, economics, fun hacks, and onward. Wish I'd gotten there for the start, although from the wide-ranging discussion, maybe it wouldn't have helped that much. Peter Watts' theories on mammalian behavior, specifically how activating the brain's pleasure centers keeps us doing certain things (Karl Schroeder called it "consciousness as masturbation," and I don't know whether those were his words or he was quoting Watts) and the idea that no pure altruism exists in the natural world, including among humans, were also explored. This panel did go off-topic here and there, and didn't really answer the panel question, but panel questions are often treated as discussion starting points.

During "Technology as Legislation," Karl Schroeder noted, "The Pill [was] the technological legislation of the female workforce," and I'd say he was right. Stross added that the advent of antibiotics beforehand made use of the Pill more feasible, because having the Pill without having antibiotics could have resulted in higher mortality rates (adult and infant, I would add) from STDs. Discussion veered off toward evangelistic tendencies in various human groups (Greens, religions, etc.).

The Mas-querade (hosted by Freon) was also new to me; I'd been to less than a handful of cons before this one, and never managed to attend a Masquerade at any of them. One guy walked by with a wireless Webcam on his hat, with a small screen underneath so you could wave at yourself. Never saw one of those at a con before, but they could become the next hot other-con item. At Penguicon, it just made sense. I was impressed by the level of skill and craft evident in many of the costumes. MarsDust.com's "Ivana" entry bore more than a passing resemblance to the "Metropolis" female robot, and deservingly won an award.

Mad Doc Geon" presented a computer-synched Robo Sapiens perfor-mance to the Run DMC and Aerosmith version of "Walk This Way," which was cheered by the audience. Seeing all those mechanical things (at least a dozen) moving together to music just blew my mind -- it was so SFnal! Then I was brought crashing back to reality by the appearance of the "catcher" -- the guy who wrangled the 'bots so they wouldn't fall off the platform. A great way to pass the judging period, certainly. "Holidays Go to Cannes" and "Ivana" tied for Best in Show, both worthy winners. A raffle was also conducted, and several people went home with some nice schwag.

The three hours in the smoking con suite (even though I don't smoke; the smell doesn't bother me at all) so Shar Nims could hit the evening's dance event were fairly quiet.

Too whacked from staying up late Saturday night, my only Sunday panel was the 1 p.m. "Counter-factual Universe," which turned out to be a well-done sort of RPG, with the panelists (Elizabeth Bear, Sarah Zettel and Tobias Buckell) acting as humans from other timelines (so to speak) and the audience trying to explain "real" humans and Earth to them. Each panelist maintained their role for at least half of the panel time (90 minutes). I arrived 10 minutes late due to having to rush to Registration to get my registration fee comped for completing 6 hours of volunteer time, and was slightly confused for a few minutes until I reviewed the panel description in the program book. Aha, I thought, they're channeling aliens. Well, no, Virginia, they weren't.

Counterfactual universe is the new buzz-phrase for alternate history, it seems, and it took quite a while for this to sink into my tired brain. But the panel worked no matter which way one viewed it (alien channeling or alternate human timelines), and the panelists maintained their roles quite well. It was my first experience with this sort of panel, and it seemed intended to amuse as well as inform how writers consider alternate timelines -- not to mention getting inside alien mind-sets.

Bear and Zettel carried their roleplay out to the audience by leaving their chairs and going to point out how some audience members were "transferring concrete matter" (taking notes) and "honoring other consciousnesses" (ribbons attached to con badges).

Charlie Stross was in the audience, and I had to restrain myself from squeeing with delight when I saw his T-shirt -- "International Pixel-Stained Technopeasant Day" -- as I'd read about its genesis only the day before in the Computer Lounge. Stross seemed quite delighted that his "minions" had answered his call and produced the shirt so he could wear it as close to the designated day as possible (April 23, after Penguicon concluded). Stross has, along with Watts, Cory Doctorow, and other writers, also used CCL to post his work for free on the Web. If he hadn't been wearing that T-shirt, the universe would have exploded. Or a lot of people would have bemoaned a kewl thing not done. Which is worse? You decide.

Hall events during Penguicon included a Robo Sapiens demo by Geon, belly dancing, and Tom Smith singing filk (rarely, as he always draws a crowd). There was also a patio event outdoors that had music in it, but I never went to see what it was about. I was resting on the hallway floor at that point, footsore and whupped.

I didn't experience any of stratification between the professional writers and their readers/fans reported by others at other cons. This may, in part, be because the writers invited (and attending on their own) are generally interested in talking to a variety of people, and have the sense to bring along a friend who can get them out of awkward situations when needed. The story of a fan holding a well-known writer hostage by standing on the writer's foot may be apocryphal, but the fan who buttonholes the writer for a long discussion about an essentially trivial point in a story is doing essentially that. Bear and Stross made themselves available quite often outside of panels, and in an Author GoH, that's something to be appreciated. I didn't see a lot of Karl Schroeder or John Scalzi, but that just means I didn't see them a lot; it's entirely likely they were as accessible to attendeed as their colleagues.

For my first time attending it, Penguicon felt very comfortable. Staff, guests and attendees with whom I had contact were uniformly personable, interested in conversation and willing to chat with anyone. It reminded me a great deal of my first Wiscon, and considering that that was the best con I'd yet attended in terms of welcoming feeling, that's saying a lot. Working in the con suites probably helped form that feeling for me, and I'd recommend the experience to anyone searching for a connection to the rest of Michigan fandom, or fen in general. Penguicon 5.0 was a well-planned, well-attended, well-run event, and I'd love to be able to attend P6.0 Maybe I'll see you there.

Janine Stinson reports for the National Fantasy Fan Federation - and us - from waaay up in Michigan's pinkie.