Okay, on to part two of the report. This one will be considerably shorter, since it covers the last third of the conference, and I'm just exhausted. Even if Spring is in full force right now, I feel like hibernating.

The rest of Friday night was fun. Ramsey Campbell read from his newest novel. Charles de Lint and MaryAnn Harris gave a terrific performance, playing Celtic and folk tunes and inciting toe-tapping from the most stolid in the audience. After that was a conference party up on the eighth floor with an open bar, which was nice. I talked to Thomas Seay (a fellow Clarionoid and Asimov Award nominee) a bunch, as well as Diana Sherman (who went to Clarion West last year) and a poet named Sunshine who is currently getting her MFA at UNC-Greensboro. Around 1 a.m., weighted down by two very strong rum-and-Cokes, I stumbled to the elevator and down to my room, collapsing on the bed.

I got caught up on my sleep Saturday morning, forgoing John Kessel's paper on the intention and morality of violence in Ender's Game for some much needed rest. I got up around 10:30 and did a little writing before heading down to the pool at 12:30 for the big group photo. We gathered together at the side of the water, while sunbathers lounged around us, and smiled for the camera. The picture will be in an upcoming issue of Locus, which makes twice my picture will have appeared there in a year. Pretty kewl. Charles Brown was often seen lurking around the conference with a camera in his hand, though apparently never thought I was worth shooting a close-up shot. Ah well.

Charles de Lint had a reading at 1:00 in the Brigantine Room, reading "Sweet Forget-Me-Not", one of his many Christmas chapbook stories produced by Triskell Press. He signed books afterward, and wrote some cool things in the copies of Someplace To Be Flying and Forests of the Heart that I brought with me. Then I went back upstairs and wrote for a while more, producing 900 words.

Ramsey Campbell did a signing at 4:00, and I got him to autograph the free copy of Ghosts and Grisly Things which I received at the first conference banquet. After that was a reading with Andy Duncan (who is always a magnificent reader), Kathy Goonan, and L.E. Modesitt. Andy read from "The Big Rock Candy Mountain" (his story in Conjunctions) in his great deep Southern accent, which made us all laugh in the right parts. Kathy read from a short story I never caught the title of, which also used some Southern accents. When they were done, I went up and said hi to Kathy and we chatted for a bit, having not talked for a while. Then I headed back down the hall to my room and cranked out another 1300 words.

At 7:00 was the cocktail hour before the final banquet, and everyone was invited. I talked to a bunch of people, ate some cubes of cheese, drank some free Coke (though if I'd known about the open bar, I would have gotten something stronger). Then we proceeded into the ballroom for the IAFA Banquet, and because of all the befriending done over the weekend, I managed to sit at a table with Alex Irvine, Ted Chiang, Dora Goss, Diana Sherman, Sunshine and her boyfriend (the Arm Candy mentioned in the comments of the last entry), and another girl whose name I never got. Dora was confiscated to another table, and a cool bald guy named Joe who is a graduate student at the University of Kentucky (where Janet studied for a year) took her place. The dinner was the most sumptuous and decandent of all three, with desert that just about clogged my arteries (I actually gained a couple of pounds from all the rich foods at the banquets).

Soon it was the award time of the banquet, and the Asimov Award was given out, as well as the Crawford Award, which went to Alex Irvine for his novel A Scattering of Jades. He got a neat plaque. It was shiny.

Then it was back up to the eighth floor for the final conference party. I talked to Mike Arnzen for a bit, then had a long discussion with Sheri Kling about Mythic Journeys, which will be in Atlanta for June of 2004, and has an astonishing list of guests. I'm determined now to do anything I can to go to it; it sounds like a fascinating and exciting weekend, and maybe if Janet is here next summer, we can go together.

After a half-hour of mingling and schmoozing, I said goodbye to Ellen Datlow, Andy Duncan, Alex Irvine, Jim Kelly, and John Kessel, and headed downstairs to finish packing. Turner and Hooch was on television while I packed, one of the best movies to hear Tom hanks yell at a dog. I got a wake up call for 6:30, and went to bed.

Coming home was pretty smooth, but I was absolutely drained. I think I just got overloaded on the conference, and it took me all day to decompress; it felt like jet lag, though all my traveling was done in the same time zone. I couldn't sleep on the planes, no matter how I tried. My mother picked me up from the airport and dropped me off at home. I tried to take a nap, and again couldn't. So I checked email and unpacked a little, then headed over to my parents' house in Fuquay for dinner and to watch the Academy Awards. I told them all about my trip, and we ate some delicious spaghetti while watching the "subdued" ceremony, which wasn't really. I left at 10:00, got home, finished unpacking, watched the rest of the Oscars, and passed out around 12:15.

So that's the big report. I had such a fun time getting to meet all sorts of people I'd never have the chance to normally meet, talk about stimulating intellectual literary topics, and bask in the reflected glow of academia. I can see why people have called it an addictive conference. I wish I'd been able to enjoy more of the leisureness of being in Florida in March and not had to work on my novel, but I'm glad I did, since I got much farther along than I would have had I not taken my laptop with me. I don't know if I'll be able to afford to go again next year, but I'd sure like to try.

Look at that. This entry wasn't shorter at all. Hmmph.

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Now Reading:
The Bloody Chamber by Angela Carter

Stories Out to Publishers:
11

Stories Sold This Year:
3

Novel Word Count:
5100