The post title comes to you courtesy of a small town church passed on the way back from Chattanooga today.

Chattacon was far more fun than it was the previous time we went (actually Christopher's been there a few times, me just once) -- mostly owing to great company. The benefit of going to a con like this, which is big, but big for gamers and such, and with a fairly small literary track is that you actually get to spend a good deal of time with people you adore but hardly ever get to see. As opposed to spending little to midsize chunks of time with lots of different people you adore at bigger conventions like World Fantasy.

So, we got to hang out lots and lots with Andy and Sydney and David Coe, and, an extremely pleasant surprise, Beth Gwinn, who'd driven up from Nashville because her friend Alan Clarke was the artist GOH. My throat hurt this morning from laughing so much.

Andy, Christopher and David all gave great and fairly well attended readings, and were on a panel with nice guy and master fencer Greg Keyes about escapist literature (in which it was decided that all literature is escapist and no literature is escapist and no one's head exploded). It was honestly one of the best panels I've ever witnessed. Hilarious, but with content.

There were many breasts pushed into odd contortions in impressive costumes and we won an original inked but not colored Bpage of Buffy comic book art. The bar was mercifully cheap.

This morning we got up and went to breakfast and the aquarium with everyone except David, who lives an hour or so away and didn't come back for Sunday. I'll let Christopher post details about how cool the Tennessee Aquarium is. But, seahorses and seadragons that looked like neon dragons and delicate leaf monsters! Then, back the hotel, where Beth Gwinn took head shots of Christopher and me (separately), and managed to make us look decent despite the fact that we were uber-tired -- she is a genius, needless to say. Then, "Cheeburger, Cheeburger" where Sydney took over the host duties of keeping the waiting list while Christopher told everyone who came in it'd be about 20 minutes, just to help out the absent and harried staff. Good burgers and shakes though.

And well, I'm just rambling. Great weekend, great people. And the convention itself seemed better organized this year -- this may be one to lasso in the other regional SF writers too next year. Low stress, low cash.

And now, I'm going to go watch that new show called "The L-Word" which is getting so much buzz.

earworm: "Feelin' Good," Nina Simone (Verve Remixed Version)

rec: Have you read "House of the Future" on Sci-Fiction yet?

namecheck: The Southern Mafia