So sue me. Life's been a bit busy. Armadillocon 34 happened almost two weeks ago, and I'm just now barely getting around to writing up a report. And guess what? That report's going to be fairly terse. And I'm not identifying everyone in the photos--you kids can tag those you know once this blog post imports to Facebook. Yeah, I'm that lazy. Armadillocon, through circumstances beyond my control, turned out to be the only convention I attended in 2012. This is not good for me, since 1) New Braunfels is not known for its writer community and 2) I depend on the writerly interaction I experience at conventions to recharge my enthusiasm for whatever projects I'm working on. This year, for the second year in a row, Monkey Girl attended with me, hitting the gaming demos, wreaking havoc on the art show and generally attending any panel that caught her attention. We arrived around 5 p.m. on Friday, after a miserable drive up in my car with the non-functioning air conditioning. My apologies to anyone who happened to be standing downwind from me--I normally don't smell that bad, I swear (on the upside, I now have a new car with a great AC system!). Monkey Girl and I checked in at registration then headed over to Fire Bowl Cafe for dinner. When we returned, we found the disconcerting sight of two fire trucks parked outside of the hotel. And fire alarms going off inside. Nobody seemed to take evacuation too seriously, so she and I wandered in and out. A. Lee Martinez as the toastmaster. He promised not to get mushy, then got all mushy and life-affirming and geeky. Other guests of honor included Anne Bishop, Liz Gorinsky, Chloe Neill, Julie Dillon and Bill Parker.
Chicken Ranch Central