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August 11th, 2008

03:30 am
Yeah, yeah, I know...

I missed my Con report yesterday.

Had I gotten into my room before, oh, two AM, I might have got round to it. As it was, I caught up with my flist and my email and fell into bed, since I only got three hours of sleep the previous night. Six hours was much better.


Today was the last day, and I'll do a more detailed writeup of the weekend later. Suffice to say that the previously-mentioned "Writer at work, please disturb before I beat my Muse to death" sign has broken the ice several times. People will actually walk up to you and engage you in conversation when you have such a sign hanging on the back of your laptop. Since I'm almost painfully shy and have a hard time walking up to people myownself, this was wonderful for me because it forced me to interact with strangers. This was a good thing. I think they'll remember me.

Now, whether they'll remember me as "that funny person with the weird RDJ fixation" or "the annoying lady that babbled a lot" is an open question.

It was a wonderful Con. I want to do it again. Next year it's in Montreal, and the year after that it's in Melbourne, Australia. I...probably won't make either of them. However, in 2010 it'll be in either Seattle or Reno, both of which are completely doable. Yay.

On the writing front, one of the wonderful people I met *waves at Rex, who knows who he is* gave me a suggestion for the KKBB/IM crossover, which tied nicely into the panel on pharmaceuticals where industrial espionage was mentioned. This means that rather than KKBB/IM, I have a new adventure for not!Tony and not!Pepper which will give us some much-needed backstory. I'll obviously have to tweak it quite a bit, which I've already begun, but it's going to be one hell of a ride. It shall henceforth be referred to as not!KKBB/IM. And I already have over three thousand words in it. HAH.

And since I don't have any fake science now, I'm going to have to find out just how long it would take for a person to recover from being shot in the back from a roof, where the bullet enters the right side just above the shoulder blade and exits through the bottom front rib on the same side. I may email my sister-in-law the ER surgeon...

So. Not as pissed at Antubis as I was before. He's giving me good stuff (seriously, the banter in this thing is to die for), and now I can actually do something with it.

But I really need to crash. Yeah.