Challenger Logo by Alan White   A Science Fiction Fanzine   Winter 2004/5

 

Mike Resnick's Noreascon IV Diary

Sunday

Monday

Tuesday
August 31
Wednesday
September 1
Thursday
September 2
Friday
September 3
Saturday
September 4
Sunday
September 5
Monday
September 6
Tuesday
September 7

Wednesday

Thursday

Friday

Saturday

Sunday, September 5: I'd been scheduled to have a late breakfast/early lunch with Barry Malzberg before our panel, but since he wasn't at the con I was able to have a meal with just

Carol, a real luxury at a Worldcon.

At noon Barry and I were supposed to do one of our dialogues, a two-man panel following the format of our SFWA Bulletin articles. (We agree that God outdid Himself when He made Sophia Loren. After 25 years of close friendship, we have yet to agree on anything else.) So on Saturday I had looked around to find a pseudo-Barry, and lo and behold, there was my old friend David Gerrold. I don't know that we disagree on quite as many things, but we've held a number of very funny insult contests, including a couple for television, and I figured if we couldn't enlighten the audience we could at least amuse it, so I drafted him. It was the one panel that didn't draw a full house, but that's because the

con committee had heard Barry wasn't coming and announced in the thrice-daily newsletter that the panel was canceled. (Of course, no one ever thought to relay that information to the other half of the panel.) Even so, we pulled maybe 20 people, and then David cheated by seriously addressing all the questions I put to him.

At 1:00 I did my "official" reading (as opposed to my reading with belly and hula dancers). I read a couple of stories I think ought to make some final ballots -- "A Princess of Earth" and "Down Memory Lane", both forthcoming in Asimov's - but they are both very sad stories, and a woman I'd never seen before accosted me as I was leaving and castigated me for depressing her, stating that she had previously read the Lucifer Jones books and The Outpost and had come expecting to fall out of her chair laughing. I explained that if she'd fallen out of her chair she'd probably have broken something and wound up depressed, and if she was going to be depressed anyway, at least this way she heard some good stories.

At 2:00 I managed to find 45 minutes to take another partial tour of the hucksters room (which is where I practically lived when I was just a fan and didn't do my year's business at these shindigs) and probably spent more time visiting with all the booksellers I'd known for decades than looking at their wares.

At 3:00 I showed up for the official autographing session. Year in and year out the autograph session is held in or next to the hucksters room, so people can buy the books they want autographed and take them right up to the authors. This year, for reasons that eluded all of the pros, it was literally as far from the hucksters room as it could get while remaining on the same floor of the immense Hynes.

I'd signed so many books at all the other tables during the con that I was done by 3:40. So was Nancy Kress, who was signing next to me - but while we were signing we agreed to collaborate on a short story next year.

At 4:00 I wandered over to the Fan Lounge and went through all the fannish memorabilia on display, since I was leading the Fan History tour at 5:00. While I was there they auctioned off a Tuckerization in one of my stories for DUFF, and I got to meet the fellow who will be semi-immortalized. I had just found a table and was relaxing with Joe Siclari, Rich and Nikki Lynch, and Guy and Rosy Lillian when it was time to lead the tour. We began with the previous years' Hugos, and I told stories about most of them (or the cons where they were given out), then moseyed over to the impressive Doc Smith exhibit. Doc was the first pro Carol and I met at our first worldcon, and I was happy to be able to tell a number of stories - all complimentary - about him. We were working our way through ribbons and program books when the hour ended and I went back to the Sheraton.

The Resnicks - Carol, Laura and me -- met the Turtledoves - Harry, Laura, Allison, Rachel, and Rebecca - in the lobby for dinner. (Actually, I call the younger Turtledoves The One on the Left, The One on the Right, and the One Without an R in Her Name.) We went back to the Kashmir where Lou Anders had taken us; very nice food, even the second time around. Harry and I had collaborated on a story we sold to Lou Anders this summer, and will collaborate on a novel in a year or two (we're the only two people in the world with any serious interest in the subject, and we figured two such novels would be one too many), but I suspect the real reason we always meet for dinner at Worldcon is so he can plot to run off birdwatching with Carol (they're both ardent birders), and he suspects that it's so I can plot to run off to New York with Laura (his, not mine) to see endless musical theater performances (she and I have been trading bootleg videos and audios for years).

All the younger generation skipped dessert and headed off to watch the masquerade, and the oldpharts stayed at the table and visited for another hour. (I still don't know who won the masquerade. I do know that people began showing up in the CFG suite at 10:30 and 11:00, complaining that they hadn't yet finished the first run-through and that the emcee was not going to put Robin Williams or Billy Crystal out of business.)

Then it was the usual round of all the parties, with frequent stops back at CFG, and off to bed at perhaps 5:00.

 

On to Monday, September 6...

 

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