Other than that minor hiccup, Confusion was fantastic. I think many of you know that I consider Confusion my “home” convention — i.e., the convention I go to just for fun and to see friends rather than to flog myself and my product — so it’s usually a chance to relax and hang out and enjoy myself. This year was no exception to that; while I did programming (the first time in a couple of years, actually), what the convention was mostly about was catching up with people I like and getting to meet some new people as well.
This year was especially good for the latter, since Confusion was rather ridiculously top-heavy with writers this year. Above and beyond the usual local crowd (in which I include myself, as well as Anne Harris, Sarah Zettel, Tobias Buckell and Jim C. Hines among others) there was also Patrick Rothfuss (as the Guest of Honor), Brent Weeks, Peter V. Brett, Joe Abercrombie, Jay Lake, Robin Hobb, Elizabeth Bear, Scott Lynch, Howard Andrew Jones, Brad Beaulieu, Saladin Ahmed (who is actually local now, so: ONE OF US ONE OF US ONE OF US), Cat Rambo, Kristine Smith, Michelle Sagara and debut novelist Myke Cole and a bunch of others I’m forgetting and not naming because eventually lists become boring. The point is: Dude, many cool writers, many of whom I got to meet in the flesh for the first time.
I have already discussed the Legendary Licked Book of Epic Confusion, but other highlights of the weekend included bringing scrunchies and a lacy hot pink thong to a D&D game featuring many of the writers name-checked above, attending the release party for Saladin’s excellent and almost absurdly well-reviewed debut novel Throne of the Crescent Moon (which will have a Big Idea feature soon, incidentally), where among other things we discussed unlubricated emus and thrilled to Joe Abercrombie’s fabulous and almost too-accurate Admiral Ackbar imitation, and my joint reading with Toby Buckell, at which he unleashed the first chapter of Arctic Rising, his new (and very good) near future thriller.
I myself showed off the ARC of Redshirts (which Tor very graciously sent over to me at the hotel, so I could in fact show them off) and tried not to go all Gollum and scream “NO! MY PRECIOUS!!” whenever anyone asked to see it. On the other hand, the most common thing people did when I did hand them the ARC was to pretend to run, so you tell me who was being paranoid here. I think at least a couple of them would have run, had not Krissy, my vengeful, raven-tressed Amazon of a wife, been on hand to tackle and punish them. And punish them she would have. My wife is awesome.
Basically, it was a fantastic time all around and you wish you could have been there, unless you were there, in which case, you are glad you were. I’m looking forward to doing it all over again next year. Although next year I really do intend to remember my suitcase.