Mythcon, Here I Come

Long time no post, I know. It's been a packed week: I'm the scholarships coordinator for our department and our annual awards ceremony was yesterday, so I was busy getting ready for that, and I also had an article deadline. The scholarships have been awarded and the article's in (although I haven't heard from the editor yet, so I don't know if she's accepted it). I still have one more set of classes on Monday, and a final exam the following Monday, but I feel like I can breathe a little easier.

Sabbatical's almost here.

To celebrate my getting through the week, we went out for pizza last night, to the place in town that serves soy cheese on gluten-free crust. It's surprisingly good: not "real" pizza, of course, but as close as I'm going to get, and tasty in its own right. Over dinner, I mentioned that Mythcon's in Albuquerque this year, and Gary said, "You should go." (The article I just sent in will, I hope, appear in the MLA's volume on Approaches to Teaching Tolkien, which is how we got onto Mythcon.)

I've only been to one Mythcon, back when The Necessary Beggar was nominated for a Mythopoeic Award. I didn't win, but I had a wonderful time anyway. Everyone was very friendly. The papers were both accessible and interesting, which is more than I can say of some conferences I've attended. I felt at home there, not least because I didn't have to worry about being bashed for being Christian (Wiscon can get pretty hostile that way). A conference devoted to the work of the Inklings isn't going to bash anybody for being Christian!

The problem is that even if UNR has any travel money left -- doubtful, in the present climate -- I can't get it unless I'm giving an academic paper, and Mythcon's theme this year hasn't inspired me . "You should go anyway," Gary said. "You'll have a good time. You'll see friends."

So I'm going. I got up this morning and made my hotel reservation and plane reservation, and then bought my membership and meal plan. One of the great things about Mythcon is that everyone eats together, so you really get to meet people, and there's none of that seventh-grade-ish "oh man whom I gonna eat lunch with and will that group over there let me in?" thing that tends to happen at Wiscon and other cons, where small groups congregate in the hotel lobby right before mealtimes and unattached folks wander around trolling for invitations. I didn't enjoy seventh grade the first time, and I still don't. Mythcon's much more restful; you just find an empty seat, sit down and start talking to people.

But, yeah: here I go again, spending money right before sabbatical. We have more left over this month than we expected, though, and it will cover the entire Mythcon package.

So in July I'm going to Mythcon, and in August, Worldcon's coming to Reno, and my old friends are coming to my house for dinner. Bwah-hah-ha!

I can't remember the last time I attended two conventions in two months. In fact, I'm not sure I've ever attended two conventions in two months.

Huh. My geek quotient may be lower than I thought!

Back Home, Sans Lion

We're back in Reno now. I did not, alas, get to bring home one of the fabulous lion statuettes (miniature replicas of the New York Public Library lions) with which Mythopoeic winners are presented. Patricia McKillip's Solstice Wood won. It's a beautiful book -- and there's certainly no shame in losing to McKillip! -- but I can't pretend I'm not disappointed. As people kept kindly reminding me, though, just being on that ballot really was an honor, given who else was there.

And a lot of people, including members of the awards committee, told me they loved The Necessary Beggar. There's a weighted voting system, and evidently they didn't know ahead of time who'd gotten the award. Several committee members told me they'd expected me to win, presumably because they'd put the book in first place. David Bratman, the chair of the convention, came up to me after the ceremony and said, "I'm sorry you won't get to take home a lion, but I hope you're having a good time at the conference anyway." I had a fabulous time at the conference -- the most enjoyable I've ever attended! -- and I told him so. It really draws a diverse group of people who are working on fascinating projects (at least, fascinating if you're a Tolkien/Inklings geek). I don't know if I'll be able to go next year, since it's later in August and in Connecticut, which is an awfully long trip to make right before the start of the semester, but I plan to attend as many as I can from now on.

It helped that the membership was really small, under 200, and that we all ate our meals together in a cafeteria. We got to know people quickly, and I left feeling like I'd made new friends. And it helped that we got to spend time with old friends, Ellen Kushner and Delia Sherman. Ellen presented the literature -- as opposed to scholarship -- awards last night, and this morning she joined us at breakfast and told me, "You have no idea how much I hated having to make that announcement last night." (I don't think this in any way reflects her opinion of McKillip's novel; she just hoped that she'd get to give the lion to me, since we've known each other since 1984.) Instead, she gave me a "consolation prize" of a CD by Broceliande, who treated us to a fabulous concert after the awards ceremony. Gary and I had bought two CDs and Ellen gave us one, so now we have three!

Gary and I had an agreement before Mythcon that if I didn't win, he'd get me a consolation lion. (I coveted the lion as soon as I saw a photo of the award, possibly because one of my childhood fanfic fantasies involved Aslan and Elsa, the lioness from Born Free, mating and having cubs.) One of the conference organizers told Gary at breakfast that the award statuettes are in fact purchased from the NYPL Gift Shop, so I suspect that I may be acquiring one soon.

It's good to be home with our three living, miniature lions . . . but I can't believe that classes start in three weeks, and that I'm teaching my med-school seminar a week from tomorrow! Eeep!

Another Quick Check-In

We're having a great time. We've gone to lots of good panels and readings and presentations. Last night we watched a very funny performance called "Lord of the Ringos:" Beatles songs Tolkienefied ("I'm looking through you" sung to Frodo after he's put on the Ring, for instance).

My reading yesterday -- of a long, experimental piece -- went much better than I'd dared hope. Only a few people came, since I was up against the major panel on the conference theme, but the nine or so who showed up were emphatically enthusiastic. I hadn't even known if there might be a market for this thing; several people there suggested that I send it to The New Yorker. (!!!) Er, well . . . I guess the worst that could happen is a rejection slip.

At any rate, they certainly all followed it and understood what I was trying to do, which was my main concern. And folks who'd been there came up to me even hours afterwards to compliment me on it. So that was a huge relief.

Now it's time to get ready for the banquet. I'll post again later, or tomorrow.

Adventures in Berkeley

Last night the video programming began with The Adventures of Prince Achmed, made in Germany in 1925. It's the oldest surviving feature-length animated film, made with silhouettes like the ones cast by Indonesian shadow puppets. We were watching it on a small TV mounted on a wall, which wasn't ideal; even so, the film was beautiful. (Also inadvertently hilarious in many places. The advantage of silent films is that you can heckle without worrying about detracting from anyone's enjoyment.) I found the visuals absolutely magical and mesmerizing -- much more so than most contemporary animation -- precisely because the images were otherworldly and mysterious rather than realistic. Gary and I are going to rent the film to watch at home (Netflix has it), and I highly recommend it to any of you interested in film or fantasy.

The second selection was Hush, one of our favorite Buffy episodes. (Last night's movie theme was "Shhhhh!") It formed an interesting counterpoint to Achmed; the stylized hand gestures of The Gentlemen are very similar to some of the silhouette movements in the first movie, and I think having seen Achmed made me even more sensitive to how much Hush accomplishes with gesture.

There were two more videos, but after that first double feature, we turned in for the night!

Other highlights from yesterday included a paper on Goldberry from LoTR; the author wasn't there, but a friend read it for her, and afterwards, the audience discussed Goldberry and Bombadil for a good twenty minutes. One person quoted LoTR from memory to make a point. Another pulled out a dog-eared copy of the book to find a passage that answered a question.

Ahhhhh! Tolkien geeks! My people!

The cafeteria food here is remarkably good. We had tasty ginger fish for dinner last night, and the coffee's not half bad -- much to our relief, since we forgot to bring our own.

There's an absolutely gorgeous tree on campus, near one of the entrances to the main programming building. Given how much Tolkien loved trees, that's fitting. I want to try to get some photos of it before we leave. I seem to find fantastical vegetables every time I come to Berkeley!

Also, I keep meeting people who glance at my name badge, beam at me, and tell me that they love my work. Most gratifying! And there are lots of cat people here -- we saw some adorable snapshots of someone's new cat over breakfast this morning -- but that's not too surprising at a fantasy gathering, is it?

We're in Berkeley!

We've arrived safely in Berkeley, have checked into our very comfortable dorm suite, and are now waiting for programming to start. Gary's working on a book review for our local pet magazine, and I'm (obviously) blogging.

Last night we stayed with my friend Ellen and her son Paul; her mom and dad had dinner with us, and her mother cooked up a fabulous meal. Paul, who'll be four in September, is very energetic and very funny. He loves cars, and Ellen just got a new Saab station wagon, so before she even got home from work, he'd dragged Gary and me down to the garage to go sit in the new car. He wanted to push the garage-door opener, but we didn't let him. ("But Mommy says I can do it when she's here!" "But she's not here yet, Paul!")

When Ellen got home, he ran joyously upstairs to greet her, and asked for the car keys.

Twice.

We all had the feeling that he'd know what to do with them, too! But of course she told him they weren't toys. A few hours later, after I'd come in from moving my car into a better parking position, Paul asked for my car keys, and also asked me to show him where they went. He's nothing if not persistent!

Isn't he supposed to hold off on asking for the car keys until he's sixteen?

He also loves vacuum cleaners. During our previous visit, he'd dragged us down to the basement to show us the big vacuum cleaner (Ellen's real one) and the little vacuum cleaner (his toy one). Last night, as I was getting ready for bed, Paul came into our room and saw my CPAP gear on the bed. "That goes downstairs!" he said, and started to grab it, just as Ellen came in and said, "No, Paul, sweetie, I know that looks like part of the vacuum cleaner, but it's Aunt Susan's special sleeping machine."

I told Ellen about my sister's comment that the CPAP looks like a cross between a jock strap and a vacuum cleaner, and she laughed.

We're really enjoying being in Berkeley, which is much cooler than Reno! I don't know how much I'll be blogging this weekend, but I'll try to provide at least periodic updates.

Attractions, Coming and Current

This week's Grand Rounds is up over at David Williams' Health Business Blog. Thanks for including me, David!

I'm going to be hosting Grand Rounds myself on August 28. I'm more than a little nervous about this (especially since that's the first week of school), but I'm excited, too, and grateful to Nick Genes for reminding me that I'd offered to host this summer. He'll be doing an interview with me for Medscape, and I'll let you know when that's posted.

Elliot has posted a very smart and satisfying review of The Fate of Mice. Thanks, Elliot!

Gary and I are gearing up for Mythcon. This morning I practiced the new piece I'll be reading there, which clocks in at just about forty minutes. Perfect! Unfortunately, my reading's opposite a panel that includes the guests of honor, Ellen Kushner and Delia Sherman, not to mention the illustrious Ellen Klages, so I hope someone will come hear me. I'd go to their panel myself, if I could! But Gary will be there, even if nobody else is. And the reading was rescheduled from nine in the morning to one in the afternoon, which is much easier on my brain.

The conference includes a concert by the Renaissance and early-music group Broceliande, who perform Tolkien's songs on their album The Starlit Jewel (currently unavailable, unfortunately). Gary and I are really looking forward to that. And the evening video showings include Hush, one of our favorite Buffy episodes. All in all, it should be a great weekend!

Mixed Day, With Clouds

It's been an unsettled day. We've been having grey weather here -- unusual for Nevada, although it hasn't brought the rain to this area that we need -- and I woke up feeling very gloomy.

Things improved, though, when I managed to finish the first draft of a new piece I'm working on to read at Mythcon. One of the problems with WisCon, much as I love it, is that so many people there want to do readings that everyone (except Guests of Honor) winds up shoehorned into sessions with two or three other people -- which means that one gets, at most, twenty minutes to read. The bookstore owners of my acquaintance all maintain that twenty minutes is now the length of the average adult attention span, but it's hard to read much of anything in that amount of time. Given my druthers (as at last night's Sundance reading, which was great fun), I always read for a longer time, and no one's become comatose yet.

So when Mythcon chair David Bratman offered me an entire hour to myself, I was overjoyed (not that I plan to read the whole time, mind you!). At Jacob and Rina's wedding, Bernie Goodman had suggested that I start something new to try to break my writer's block on November. Those two events have resulted in a new piece . . . although I'm not quite sure what to call it. It's meta-fantasy, sort of, although it's also a memoir. It's an essay about writing: let's leave it at that. The thing's experimental enough that I was very worried about whether it works, but Gary likes it. So now I'm happy. And it's about 5,000 words, which should take -- I think -- about forty minutes to read? I'll time it once I've revised it.

And maybe somebody at Mythcon can suggest a market for this oddity.

So, anyway, getting some writing done was good, and getting a thumbs-up from Gary was even better.

Then we went to campus and finished unpacking the thirty boxes of books. The room's slowly starting to look like an actual office; I think it will be very nice once we get the new loveseat (which was on clearance at Macy's) in there and hang pictures. The loveseat's supposed to be delivered on Friday, but I couldn't get an answer at Macy's contracted delivery service all day . . . and they didn't call back when I left a message. I'll keep hounding them tomorrow.

We drove home via a strip mall where Gary got his hair cut, where I got some stuffed animals at the dollar store for kids at the hospital, and where we picked up a few groceries. Then I headed out again to mail my father's birthday package and to go to the health club.

On my way to the post office, the song on the radio was interrupted by no fewer than three ominous National Weather Service alerts. None were for Reno proper -- the closest was for Fallon, ninety miles away -- but they were warnings of the "very dangerous thunderstorms: go inside and stay away from windows" variety. I've never even heard one of those here, let alone three (although, granted, I usually only listen to the radio when I'm in the car).

Driving to my health club, I took a shortcut through a supermarket parking lot, and saw a coyote in a strip of bushes between the store and the house next door! Even though I've lived in Reno ten years, and even though coyotes are very common here, this is the first time I've ever seen one in Nevada outside a zoo. (My sister and I saw one at the Grand Canyon several years ago.) So that was a thrill. I think they're beautiful animals -- despite the fact that our cat who disappeared in 1999 probably became a coyote's dinner -- and this was a particularly fine specimen.

My workout was a little wimpy; I only lasted half an hour on the elliptical and did my remaining ten minutes on the rowing machine, but at least I burned my target 250 calories. As I was leaving the club, somebody at the front desk said, "Don't cross the driveway, please; go under the overhang."

"Oh," I said, "did it finally start raining?" No one answered.

When I got outside, I saw a small group of security guards looking up at the top of the parking garage, and I heard someone say something about a jumper. Then one of the guards saw me and said, "Go under the overhang, please."

I looked up where they'd been looking, and saw a man sitting on the top of the parking garage with his feet hanging over the edge, looking down. "Has he said anything?" I asked them.

"Reno PD's up there," one of the guards told me. "Go under the overhang, please."

They'd been directing people that way since I'd left the club, but they weren't volunteering the information that someone was threatening to jump, and nobody else seemed to notice what was happening. One older man asked if there was a problem; a guard said, "This is a hardhat area," but didn't say why. The older man and I both took the stairs in the parking garage, and he was making small talk about the weather and such. He obviously had no clue what was unfolding above us. As I left the garage, a police car passed me, lights on but sirens silent. It was all very eerie.

The whole way home, I prayed for the man on top of the garage (and also, I have to confess, for the coyote, whom I hope won't encounter any hostility). I'll have to wait for tomorrow's paper to learn what happened, and of course I may not know even then.

I hope they'll both be okay, and that everyone in the path of those storms will be, too.

On a slightly less somber note, today's the second day in a row that I've gotten through without a nap (although I did sleep an appalling ten hours last night). Maybe the B vitamins are working?