Wow. Readercon was awesome! Technically it was Readercon 33, but my first. I haven’t really started processing it, still coming down from the high. For this shy introvert, that’s an astonishing statement. That a crowded conference full of strangers (it wasn’t any easier with coworkers) could energize me.

I didn’t talk to very many people. But I connected with a writer from out my way, Susan Stinson, and that helped a lot.

But first, getting there. Yeah, there was a monsoon. Thankfully not while I was on Route 2 in Leominster. That’s my worst stretch of road—fast, downhill, winding, cars entering and exiting. It’s a horror show in the best of weather. But I did hit a heavy downpour at the next worst possible route—95/128. There the fear is poor visibility, puddles, and tsunamis coming across from the northbound lanes. Thankfully, it was a fairly short storm period. I got through it, and it was almost clear as I got to the next most horrible spot, The Split (where 93 and 3 split off)—and here it’s worth mentioning that those unfamiliar with Route 128, which isn’t called that by those younger than me, and relying on Google Maps for directions, might be startled to hear things like, “Continue east on 93 north” when you in fact hope very much that you are heading south, and all signs say 93 goes to Boston, but you don’t want to go to Boston! But I made it safely to Quincy.

So the conference: I have to thank Gideon Smith for his blog post “Navigating Writing Conferences as an Introvert.”

The hard part was some panels overlapped, so I couldn’t go to everything I wanted to. The Guests of Honor were Rebecca Roanhorse and Amal El-Mohtar. Roanhorse, I’d heard of but never read anything by—though I recently bought Black Sun. El-Mohtar I knew from This Is How You Lose the Time War and from her SF reviews in the New York Times. They each held readings, but for some reason the organizers put them in one of the smallest conference rooms. It was standing room only. They were awesome!

I’m not very good auditorily, my mind wanders, I miss things, but when a reader is that good, it works extremely well. Both read from stories in the souvenir book (Roanhorse read from her first published story, which won a Hugo and Nebula!), so I’m anxious to finish them and find out what happens.

The panel on “Writing Hope and Optimism” was followed by “Anger, Anxiety, Gender, and Climate.” Intentional? Every panel was filled with smart, witty, accomplished writers who spoke eloquently about their own writing and deeply about the topic and other writings.  

I had to miss “Responses to Omelas” but it was worth it to sit around a table with Andrea Hairston and several (I didn’t count) young writers, fans, students eager to absorb from a master. I can’t even begin to say how amazing Andrea Hairston is—still processing, like I said.

Susan Stinson read from a work in progress (as did Rebecca Roanhorse), which is such a brave thing to do. It was, as her writing is, amazing. Maybe once I’ve processed this I’ll come up with better adjectives.

The interviews with Roanhorse and El-Mohtar (with Time War coauthor Max Gladstone) were brilliant, funny, enlightening. How’s that?

I’ve been in a rut with my writing—working on Book 3 of a trilogy—that makes me feel like my little Prius trying to get up that hill on Route 2 in Leominster. Pedal to the metal barely gets me to the speed limit, cars swerving around me. No verve, no pizzaz.

This conference, in a few short hours filled me with energy for writing and a love for the SFF community. I’m new to the genre. Other than a few speculative short stories, I stumbled into it because I couldn’t tell the story I wanted to tell in the present time. It couldn’t be in the past either because it was inspired by Ernest Shackleton, whose real-life adventure stranded off Antarctica in the 19-teens simply can’t be bested. I’ve been reading more to get to know the genre, which I hadn’t read much of since I was a kid. The SF I like best makes me think in new ways about old problems. What does it mean to be human, what is nature, who are we, how’d we get here…and why?

Readercon gathered more than 500 wicked smaht people (in Boston lingo). And they love the craft and the subjects they write about, and each other. If I hadn’t spoken to a soul and had just sat in the audience listening enraptured, it would have been enough. I haven’t even mentioned the bookstore (I bought three—Andrea Hairston, Susan Stinson, and LJ Cohen).

A sick cat kept me from attending the whole weekend, which frankly felt overwhelming, but now that I’ve dipped my toe in, and cat willing, I’ll be there for the full conference next year.

Check out “Navigating Writing Conferences as an Introvert”

And Readercon