So. Yes! Conflux 13! It happened, and I survived it: woohoo!
As mentioned previously, I was on four panels this year–most suspiciously stacked into the early-morning 10am slot–which I think went pretty well. Even the 1:30pm Monday panel on worldbuilding–quite close to the close of the con–had a pretty good turnout.
— Shauna O'Meara (@OMearaShauna) October 2, 2017
Other highlights included the Monsterhearts 2 game Elizabeth ran for Alex, Lyss and myself on the Friday,1 Lyss’s book box launch, and getting to chat with (and buy CDs from) Meri Amber, who is a total sweetheart and whom I’m a huge stanning fangirl of. Oh, and I managed not to cry in the “Remembering Terry Pratchett” panel, although we had Preemptive Tissues and I got close once or twice…2
I didn’t get into much livetweeting this year. My Twitter feed auto-deletes tweets after a few months, so I’m not the best person to do the Eternal Record thing. Still, I couldn’t resist myself at the “Hugos are a Joke” panel (I love inside baseball):
This panel was international guest of honor–and multiple Hugo Award winner–Ellen Datlow, with Alan Baxter and T.R. Napper representing the voice of local fans and authors. Elizabeth, for her sins, was the mod, and she did a great job keeping everyone in line on the entirely-non-controversial topic. I didn’t even really need popcorn.3
Anyway. Four days is a long con, and I won’t lie: when I got back home on the Monday afternoon I totally flaked on in the sun on the balcony and fell asleep for like three hours.
So. In other words: See you next year!
- It got messy. And, uh. Sorry for coming after your Fae with an iron crowbar, Lyss… [↩]
- Also, it was Alex’s First Panel and he did great. We pretty much had to drag him kicking and screaming onto panels this year, but now he’s done one he can never go back to being a mere attendee! Mwahahaha!!! [↩]
- To clarify the second tweet in the chain, Ellen, Alan, and Tim were all scornful of the various Puppy slates and their motives, and it was more about taking a shot every time someone was forced to wince and make air-quotes around a term they recognized as a tedious dogwhistle. [↩]