I promised to blog from Denvention, and then I didn't, and I'm sorry. But the Hyatt wanted $10 day for Internet access, which I refused to pay on principle. I'm not sure information wants to be free, but wifi should have been considering the room rates. So now I am sitting in the Denver airport, where the wi-fi is free, wondering how to compress an entire Worldcon into a single blog entry.
It was spread-out. It was slightly, but not majorly, disorganized. It was a lot of fun. I lost a Hugo. But I expected that, since I was after all up against Connie Willis, who is not only the crowd-pleaser of all time but also on her home turf. To ease the pain, I had bet against myself, and thus ended u[p $25 richer, if one Hugo poorer.
The Sheraton was the party hotel, but since all of the parties were very crowded and very hot (the Sheraton was having AC problems; at one point a hotel worker actually poured ice into the AC ducts, in front of the blower), a lot of action took place in the Hyatt bar. There, perched on high stools, people met and drank and talked and circulated, my favorite part of any Worldcon. I think of SF cons as the equivalent of mountain-men jubilees in the nineteenth century. You spend a long stretch alone hunting furs (or writing stories) and every once in a while you just have to come down from the mountains for an intense spree with your own kind. Trade your furs, carouse a bit, make new contacts with the traders (BLOCK THAT METAPHOR!)
The Hugos were run capably by Toastmaster Wil McCarthy, who brought the program in under two hours. The panels all started on time. The Green Room had good coffee and Danish and fruit. My best panel was Monday morning with Jim Morrow and Harry Turtledove, on the subject "How Will The Twentieth Century Be Remembered In the Far Future?" Or something like that. We didn't, of course, stay on topic, but we did stray into some interesting by-ways. Jim and I disagree on almost everything, which is the best way to have a lively panel.
By Sunday night, however, I was exhausted, peopled-out, and tired of living out of a suitcase. Back to the mountains to hunt furs.
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5 comments:
Then it's true. You were there. I thought I saw you once, as you sailed into the Green Room like a space princess, followed by your entourage, and then sailed out again a few moments later.
I was sitting at a table to the side with David Hartwell and John Barnes. Later, I had a bite with John Barnes (he is tasty but needs a little salt) before Margie zoomed past the restaurant and hauled me off like a bag of US mail by the trackside.
Mike--
I never saw you! My guess is that you were never in the Strata Bar at the Hyatt, where I spent much of the con.
I'm glad I got to meet you, after enjoying your books for so many years. :)
Mike, I believe I was at the table next to you at breakfast one morning at the Grand Hyatt--did you eat there?
Joe Iriarte said...
Mike, I believe I was at the table next to you at breakfast one morning at the Grand Hyatt--did you eat there?
MikeF answers:
Yes, while Nancy was at the merely Hyatt, I was at the Grand Hyatt.
A funny thing happened to John Maddox Roberts at the Grand Hyatt, although he was not laughing. He arrived late to learn that his room, guaranteed for late arrival had been given to someone else. This someone else had arrived in town without a hotel booked and went from hotel to hotel looking for an available room. The Grand Hyatt gave him John Roberts' room. The lucky guest was named... John Roberts.
Coincidences like that don't work in fiction.
Hah!
I was at the Grand Hyatt too, but I had friends at the other one. I'm afraid to say that the only thing Grand about ours by comparison was the grand amount of overcompensating going on in the name.
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