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Bubonicon 51
Aug. 25th, 2019 03:33 pm I ended up just ging to Bubonicon on Saturday...there really wasn't anything happening on Friday that I was frothing to attend. Dragged myself over there in time for an 11 a.m. panel which was less enthralling than I'd hoped. Got to schmooze with a few people I hadn't seen in a while. Met a delightful bookseller in the vendor's room--I need to cobble together a wish list! and got a small print at the art show.
The hospitality suit was disappointing. In previous years, they've had bags of individual-sized snacks, bowls of fun-sized munchies and the like. All that was conspicuously absent. Maybe it was the time of day (mid-afternoon) but it was a very picked-over tray of cut-up melon, veggies and dip and not much else. Since I didn't attend last year, I can't say if this is a recent change--but it's my understanding that somebody new took over last year after the previous long-standing hospitaler 'retired'. Either way, I wasn't impressed.
The highlight of my day was "Snack Sized Fiction" writing exercises. There were three pro writers and a moderator. The mod would read out a prompt and the writers had five minutes to do something with it. Audience participation was encouraged.
1. The prompt was, Two AIs meeting and talking
"Oh dear. Diane has forgotten me."
"Does that happen often?"
"Yes, I thank that's one of the reasons you're here. Shes always saying 'I have to remember to get cat food or toilet paper' or some other necessity, but then she forgets."
"She's coming back. I can see her approaching the front door now." She must have missed you."
"What you, Alexa."
"Talk to you later, Siri."
========
2. The prompt was: She didn't look like a princess, she looked like an evil queen who had turned.
"A princess? Don't be silly. She's no princess."
"But her father is a king."
"So? That's just a technicality. She has two doctorates and if you try to define her by her title, she'll rip you a new one."
"Doctorates in what, tattoos and motorcycle repair?"
"Mathematics and philosophy. Her philosophy is, 'I don't need my dad to get ahead in the world'."
========
3. The surrealist prompt was "My eyes are turning into pigeons."
They're everywhere. It's like a scene out of Hitchcock. The birds are converging onto the plaza around me, dozens. hundreds, maybe thousands or them as far as the eye can see, all clamoring shrilly around my ankles, squabbling among themselves. They're definitely invading my personal space.
That'll teach me to carelessly spill popcorn on my way home from the movies.
========
Not exactly enduring prose, but a fun diversion nonetheless. This morning, I woke up exhausted and in pain--my feet hate me and I still have a lingering headache. I was going to go in for the traditional steampunk tea, but I was just too damn tired to think about showering, washing my hair, getting dressed, getting a ride and battling the crowds at the hotel. It was just not going to happen!
Sometime in the next couple of days, I need to go get my haircut. Liberation!
Have a good week. Love to all.
...
The hospitality suit was disappointing. In previous years, they've had bags of individual-sized snacks, bowls of fun-sized munchies and the like. All that was conspicuously absent. Maybe it was the time of day (mid-afternoon) but it was a very picked-over tray of cut-up melon, veggies and dip and not much else. Since I didn't attend last year, I can't say if this is a recent change--but it's my understanding that somebody new took over last year after the previous long-standing hospitaler 'retired'. Either way, I wasn't impressed.
The highlight of my day was "Snack Sized Fiction" writing exercises. There were three pro writers and a moderator. The mod would read out a prompt and the writers had five minutes to do something with it. Audience participation was encouraged.
1. The prompt was, Two AIs meeting and talking
"Oh dear. Diane has forgotten me."
"Does that happen often?"
"Yes, I thank that's one of the reasons you're here. Shes always saying 'I have to remember to get cat food or toilet paper' or some other necessity, but then she forgets."
"She's coming back. I can see her approaching the front door now." She must have missed you."
"What you, Alexa."
"Talk to you later, Siri."
========
2. The prompt was: She didn't look like a princess, she looked like an evil queen who had turned.
"A princess? Don't be silly. She's no princess."
"But her father is a king."
"So? That's just a technicality. She has two doctorates and if you try to define her by her title, she'll rip you a new one."
"Doctorates in what, tattoos and motorcycle repair?"
"Mathematics and philosophy. Her philosophy is, 'I don't need my dad to get ahead in the world'."
========
3. The surrealist prompt was "My eyes are turning into pigeons."
They're everywhere. It's like a scene out of Hitchcock. The birds are converging onto the plaza around me, dozens. hundreds, maybe thousands or them as far as the eye can see, all clamoring shrilly around my ankles, squabbling among themselves. They're definitely invading my personal space.
That'll teach me to carelessly spill popcorn on my way home from the movies.
========
Not exactly enduring prose, but a fun diversion nonetheless. This morning, I woke up exhausted and in pain--my feet hate me and I still have a lingering headache. I was going to go in for the traditional steampunk tea, but I was just too damn tired to think about showering, washing my hair, getting dressed, getting a ride and battling the crowds at the hotel. It was just not going to happen!
Sometime in the next couple of days, I need to go get my haircut. Liberation!
Have a good week. Love to all.
...
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