I felt my hubris, heading to a huge, international event in the midst of a pandemic that is very much heating up. Heck, I was downright terrified, especially for the safety of some of my favorite fellow attendees whose health is more fragile than mine. But I just … HAD to go. Because I have a debut novel, and I need to do all I can to ensure it sells, so I can sell another one, so I can get an agent, so I can … I’m not even sure anymore, but there’s a bottomless pit of need that drives a person to become an author and it said Go To WorldCon. Try To Get on Programming. Bring Swag.
I applied very early to be on programming, saying I could talk about working-class science fiction, class and labor issues, hard SF, planetary worldbuilding, plot and structure, short story markets, uhhh software development, AI and computer stuff, robots, working with small press, indie game design, interactive fiction, comics, and whiskey. I applied to the academic track with my new paper on Jobs in SF. I would do online or in person. I’d be there all days.
I didn’t get on anything. I was sad and felt like a failure. Or just … not popular.
I miiight have whined about it to my friends, and someone (I forget who) said, “a lot of people are cancelling. Email the program director and ask if there are any spots you can fill as an alternate.”
And LO. I was added to panelling. I was not picky, I took what they offered: a panel on genetic engineering and one on the video games of the past ten years. Was I the most qualified person available to be on those panels? NOPE. But I did do some research on genes for my story “Blue Eyes” so I could talk about that (next to an actual geneticist yikes) and I plaaaaaay video games? (Weirdly I also got to weigh in as a developer because the other people weren’t devs, which I didn’t expect, and Treating The Workers Fairly came up big time.)
I cherished my lime green “Panelist” ribbon as I waltzed in and out of the Green Room for cups of tea.
People did unmask to eat, in the hotel restaurant, which was cavernous but not separate from the lobby, on the balconies, and in the many local restaurants near the hotel. I was very anxious about the restaurants but let myself get dragged into them many times due to being utterly unable to say no to things. Mostly it’s the restaurants I’m worried about.
I went to District Taco with my lovely host, Haizle, on my first day in DC. Best burrito bowl I’ve had in a long time, and they were not shy about the guac. Then that night I had a wonderful breakfast bowl at Open City and a Blood Mary that was also very good. Thursday I ate a good lunch on the hotel balcony and for dinner I met Mike and Patty and Doug for Indian food that was extremely good.
Then I met Emily Hockaday, Trevor Quachri and A. T. Sayer for drinks, first outdoors at District Kitchen (an excellent manhattan) and then indoors-ish at an Irish pub themed place whose patio was plastic-enclosed. Then I met Arley Sorg and a variety of other cool people for drinks in the hotel. That was maskless so it counts and oh dear … I recall breaking into song …
Friday I met my friend Ursula for dinner back at District Kitchen’s patio and I ordered way too much food. (The chicken sandwich was huge.)
Saturday I met my host Haizle at Denizen’s Brewery, for drinks and chicken fingers and chili cheese fries. And that, at last, is the end of my restaurant roulette.
Perhaps I’ll break up my worldcon posts by topic. I can just do what I bought, what I ate, what I drank, what I talked about. Yeaaaah.
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