Woosh. What an exhausting week. Two days of driving to a convention isn’t terrible, which we’d been doing when we lived in the East Part. Now that we’re in the West Part (and about as far so as you can get without falling in the Drink), it’s not two days of driving. It’s five. And that’s on the direct route. When it includes things like dropping the Wee Horde with the Friendly Wolves (friendly to us) in the hopes Gramps and Grammie can find them in the Great Pacific Forest, and lightning raids on Parts South (not THE South, just southern of where I are now), and friendly visits with peoples whom I’d yet only met through the ether, well.
Okay. LibertyCon32. Thursday has become the new Friday for the greater LC family, and as many people try to show up for it as possible. Meals are planned and devoured, gatherings are fluid, and often a great deal of alcohol is consumed. Friendships are renewed, and we have the joy of re-learning why we love each other. Again. It’s great fun, and I highly encourage it. I’ve never met quite so welcoming a group of outcasts and malcontents.
Now, personally, I joined our own BbESP and her Prince Consort for a reading to kick off the official programming, and dashed immediately to the Tropes in UF panel, which almost derailed into a discussion (read bashing) of tradpub versus indie. Fortunately, the eminent DB Jackson pulled that up short. That’s what we do here, and other places like panels specifically on such, but that just wasn’t the venue for it. And that was almost it for me for the formal programming. I was scheduled for the Sea Stories 2 panel, where naval veterans tell some of the craziest experiences they had in service, but I don’t have any particularly good stories that didn’t get told last year. Fortunately, OldNFO voluntold Mrs. Dave, and *she* has several very good stories. I enjoyed those from the audience.
The rest of the time was spent relating. And manning the swag table for her BbES Highness, and making sure Mrs. Dave (who did the lion’s share of selling) got to do minor things like acquire sustenance and eliminate waste. As one does. I tried some truly fine whisk(e)ys, and got so busy I forgot to force our whiskey upon others (with their permission), and so ended up with nearly as much whiskey on the return trip as I ventured out with. Which just means some of y’all need to come visit and drink my whiskey.
Most of the point of going to LC is to spend time with family of choice, and I’m a little grouchy. I did that. I really did. I got to meet His Tankness face to actual face, which was really cool. And I spent a mess of time working through some thought experiments and planning with a collaborator (you know who you are). And I got to spend a couple of brief moments in conversation with some of my oldest con friends, missed out on more, and barely saw some very, very cool people. I’m sorry, fam: I’ll make it happen next year. That said, they all seemed to be enjoying themselves, which was the point. I heard the dead dog Delta Green game rocked, and that Meat Faucet was meaty and faucety. It seems that my friends are all becoming much more successful in their writing careers, which is great fun to see. Jason Cordova is tearing it up with Chris Kennedy Publishing, and Chris Smith and KC Ezell are scheduled for a 2021 (I think: don’t quote me) release of their collab with John Ringo (whom I only saw from afar, *sigh*). Docfather has vague and cryptic word of Things Happening, and rocked his way into a new job that is full of goodness. Everybody is Doing Great Things, and it’s fun to see. I’m looking forward to the catching up conversations in Chattanooga, next year.