FantasyCon 2011 – The Aftermath

  • on August 21, 2019

FantasyCon rocked. I mean, it ROCKED. I met PEOPLE. Real, live PEOPLE. Not people tweeting. Not people blogging. Not people that I talk to by typing. I mean, actual flesh-and-blood people. We spent a lot of time drinking. And talking. You’d think I’d never done it before the way I wouldn’t stop yabbering. I’m shocked any of them still want to have any contact with me at all.


So, the aftermath:


People do still want to have contact. Masses of them. It took me about quarter of an hour to follow everyone back on Twitter. I feel loved.

A conversation regarding my werewolf/unicorn love story (The Pearly Light) took an unexpected tangent while talking to Rosie Lane and Suzanne McLeod in the bar. That’s a mental image I’ll never forget. Nor is…

The sentient talking refrigerator. The sarcastic sentient talking refrigerator. Not my idea, I promise. No, really. Oh, for god’s sake, stop laughing. I promised!

I’m pretty sure I’ve gained weight, but I won’t find out until I go home. Can’t honestly say I care right now. I had a fantastic time and managed to stay relatively gluten-free (and was punished appropriately when I didn’t) so that’s fine.

I spent over £100 on books in 48 hours. I also got given a free book. Which was lovely.

Due to the point above, I now have masses of paperbacks to read, which is nice after being limited to my iPod for so long. I love my iPod, but I also love print books, so currently I have the best of both worlds.

No one sneered at me for going down the self-publishing route, so there has been no crushing of self-confidence. There was some general sneering by the professionals on one of the panels, and Rosie later said she worried she would see a “Mhairi-shaped indent in the ceiling” but I kept my mouth shut and all was well.

I’m already planning on attending EasterCon at Heathrow in April. Anyone else going?

Now I’m sitting in my parents’ conservatory. The dog (a somewhat-larger-than-a-Shetland-pony German Shepherd) is slumped against the wall, happy in the knowledge that I’m three feet away and instantly available should he decide it’s play time. I’ve had time to relax and pore over the feedback sent me by one of my critiquers on For The Love Of Gods. My brain started working again at some point.


It was simply wonderful to meet so many great people. Saturday night was the most surreal, as we all sat around and discussed everything from Pern to refrigerators and a bunch of other things besides.


The convention renewed my stamina. I’ve been feeling so overwhelmed recently on the writing front. Not so much by the writing as everything else that comes with it. But now I’ve remembered what this is really all about.


Dragons. Unicorns. Magic. And yes, sarcastic sentient talking refrigerators. It’s about the fantasy. The wonder, the heights and depths, the skipping about on the edges of my imagination. And other people’s, on occasion. It’s just so much fun! And I hope never to forget that again.


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