I can however make this announcement: I resolved after World Horror in New Orleans that Necronomicon would be my last convention. And, for all intents and purposes, it was. I've been appearing at SF/F/H conventions since October 1994, when I attended my first World Fantasy Convention, also in New Orleans. That's 19 years. I'm not going to list all my reason for making this decision, but they're, I think, good reasons. I may, rarely, make exceptions. For example, if a convention is willing – as was WHC 2013 – to bring me, by train or first class air, to a city that I want to visit, and if the convention can pay all of my expenses, including a per diem for food. Or if, like Necronomicon, the convention is in the city where I'm living. In cases like that, exceptions may occur. But it's all going to be case-by-case. But it will take a lot to overcome my basic disinterest in attending cons.
It feels good to resolve.
As for Necronomicon, I'm going to save any comments/summation until I have some interesting visuals. But it was a good weekend, and I'm very glad I had a chance to be a part of it.
I've pretty much stopped using @auntbeast, my Twitter account. I wasn't doing much more than retweeting news stories I found interesting, and I suspect less than 1% of 1% of people who saw those retweets actual followed the links and read the stories. However, I've begun using a Twitter account for Isaac Snow, my character from The Secret World, and I'm sort of having fun with that. Feel free to follow along. It's just a lark, and we need our larks now and again. It's cryptic, especially if you aren't actually in game interacting with Isaac. Anyway, a lot of people are using Twitter to augment the game, a practice begun by the game developers before TSW was released. Anyway, Isaac is @blueshepherd777.
I"m not going to begin talking about how far behind I am, about deadlines come and gone, because that'll only get me in a pissy, discouraged mood, and it will do nothing to break the cycle. Last night, I sold "Ballad of an Echo Whisperer," one of only two short stories I've managed to write this summer. I can't yet say to whom, but I'm going to take that little victory and run with it. The month I spent on the story was not in vain.
And now...work. That thing I used to do...
Saddle, Come Here,