Much to my surprise, I get up and ready more or less on time, drop off Calista and reach College Station in time for my first panel, "Alternative Publishing Methods" at 11:15 a.m. with Ardath Mayhar and Rie Sheridan. Also much to my surprise, there's a good audience seated and eager to hear what we say. A good crowd early on Friday is a good sign. Rie and I defer to Ardath, since she's written and published far more than either of us, and in more formats and mediums as well. The panel turned into a "How a really hard and unforgiving industry that was pretty much dysfunctional to start with became really, really screwed up and self-destructive once corporations got involved" history lesson for a good stretch. There was also a good bit of warning for new writers not to be seduced by scams claiming new formats (ie e-books, print on demand or whathaveyou) were the panacaea for all the world's publishing woes. Especially if they want you to give them your money. But of course new technology and alternative publishing methods are arising left and right, and are growing in importance. It was a good, informative panel.
The autograph session which followed at 1:45 was a major flop. Once again, the con had scheduled autographings in a panel room far from the dealers' room. And on a different floor from other panels, so there was absolutely no visibility or walk-through traffic. Jeff Turner signed a couple of books for a guy who'd followed him from a preceeding panel. Cat Conrad drew pictures. Mostly we cracked wise with each other and debated the merits and flaws of the new Battlestar Galactica. Three authors scheduled to sign never even found the room, not that they missed anything. This has got to change for next year.
I ended up falling in with a bad crowd--Rick Klaw and Mark Finn--and we left the con for the local Half-Price Books. I drove, since I knew the town and the Austin boys didn't. Finn observed the sadness of three married men, who, at a convention outside of their wives' supervision, choose to throw caution to the wind and browse a bookstore in search of geeky pulps and adventure stories. We ate bland Chinese food and returned to the con.
My final panel, a 10:30 p.m. discussion of "Penetrating the Rift: Sex in SF" featured Kathy Kimbriel, Rachael Caine and Mark Worrell. Defying my expectations, it did not veer into the tawdry or perverse. The discussion was somewhat academic in nature, with commentary focusing on such intriguing topics as Anne McCaffrey's subversive sexual subtext in the Pern books and the like. I mean, we had a real discussion, all serious-like, with 90 percent fewer dick and fart jokes than I'd anticipated. Again, it was a good panel with strong attendance, but I'm starting to wonder why conventions are suddenly putting me on these sex-themed panels. Armadillocon, ConDFW and now Aggiecon. What's up? I mean, I know I've got Adonis-like qualities and the women swoon when I amble past, but really, every convention?
After that, I was supposed to take Finn over to the Monkeyhouse, but I couldn't find Finn and was fading fast. I took in a few minutes of Rocky Horror--and was amused to see how the heckling has evolved over the past 10 years or so since I'd last seen the show--before heading to my room to crash.
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