As I write this, I’m sitting out front of the hotel, listening to conversations on either side of me. At LibertyCon, this is hardly unusual. Now, that I’m doing this at half-past seven on Saturday morning… this con doesn’t sleep. Seems like when we came back to the room at midnight, there were still a lot of people actually on panels and chatting and playing games, and…
I’d say this was a con report, but it’s not. This LibertyCon isn’t really about me as a fan. I’m on panels later today, I had a signing, author’s alley, and networking yesterday. No, this con is very personal. I can’t speak to any panels at this point, because we arrived Thursday evening, and I haven’t managed to make it into any so far. I’ve tried – really wanted to see Toni Weisskopf talk about the state and future of publishing, for instance. But while we aren’t at the Choo-choo with the long treks through the gardens to get from one panel to the next, we are rattling around in a huge convention center. But at least the long walks are inside! Also, I can’t walk more than ten feet without stopping to talk to people. So… yeah. I haven’t made it to a panel. I have, however, been enjoying the family reunion.
That’s the problem. I haven’t been to LC in two years, and I’m soaking up conversations like a dry sponge. These are my people, and I didn’t realize until this minute how much I missed them… gosh. Got dusty out here.
ahem. I will be on panels today, and I am going to one panel if I have to walk the halls with my hands over my ears repeating ‘I have to make this panel!’ Because it’s Dorothy and Peter Grant on marketing and Indie publishing and I NEED that one.
Writers are by inclination introverts. Solitary creatures who live in the universes contained between their ears. For months, my family is sufficient within range of my breath. I interact here, on social media, at work. I have rare social gatherings which are largely small and either extended family or some professional obligation. But sometimes, this is what you need. Sometimes, you need to talk until your throat is sore, and laugh yourself silly. And skip sleep so you can go hang out some more.
So that’s what I’m going to do. Monday, I will be all done with people for a year. Well, ok, maybe small groups. And here. And… Ok, maybe I’m not an island. Thank goodness! I need all of you in your own way.