November 1st, 2009

Voguegirl

WFC Art Show

For me, WFC is like a huge family reunion. I've been going since 1975 (thank you, neogothic )--not every year, but most years. First, I went as a reader, taking notes in panels, buying stacks of books, going through the art show panel by panel--often accompanied by Fay Ringel, with whom I giggled over brass-bra-ed maidens and the lack of gravity in the paintings of Boris Vallejo. There are close friendships I've made here, art I've bought here, business I've conducted and ideas I've floated. This con has really seen the development of my professional career.

So it's impossible for me to be dispassionate and reporterly about it.

For one thing, I don't go to that many panels any more. They're wonderful (particularly this year, according to the buzz in the halls). But they're not what I'm here for so much. I'm here to catch up with old friends, to introduce new friends to old friends and to each other. Our Clarion 2007 students are here, looking happy to see each other and us, reporting stories written and sold, hatching plans for fundraising art auctions and projects. People are working on new novels, on story collections. They're thinking of changing agents, have just changed agents--or publishers, or domestic partners, or cities--or are perfectly happy with where they've been for the last 20 years. Some of them, I exchange life experiences with. Some, congratulations or condolences. Some, I pitch IAF to (Interficitons 2 is coming out Nov. 3, after all). (Note to self--must have some IAF business cards made up--right away). Some I advise; some I go to for advise.

I find, 3 days into the convention, that I genuinely love them all--even those I don't know. Even the ones I don't really have much in common with. They're all part of the great and glorious party that is World Fantasy Convention, and it wouldn't be the same without them all.

Edited to correct egregious errors, plus grammar.  Note to self:  Don't post when really, really tired, even when you really, really want to.
Happy Totoro

Congratulations!

Just back from the banquet (a solid B+ on the Banquet Food Spectrum--but then, I had the beef, which is usually pretty good. The chicken looked pretty dire, and the one person at our table who had it, didn't finish it).

Anyway. The News you may or may not have been waiting for:

Best Novel:
Jeff Ford, The Shadow Year
Margo Lanagan, Tender Morsels

Best Novella:
Richard Bowes, "When Angels Fight"

Best Short Story:
Kij Johnson, "26 Monkeys, also the Abyss"

Best Collection:
Jeffrey Ford, The Drowned Life

Best Anthology:
Ekatarina Sedia, Paper Cities

Best Artist:
Shaun Tan

Special Award, Professional:
Kelly Link & Gavin Grant

Special Award, Non-Professional:
Michael Walsh (for Howard Waldrop collections)

Life Achievement:
Jane Asher
Jane Yolen

Everyone seemed happy. Jay Lake's speech was lovely--all about story and how all stories began as fantasy. He made all the readers and booksellers stand up and be recognized, too, which I liked. The thank-you speeches were terse and heartfelt, the after-banquet milling the usual hug-fest. I don't think there will be too many rotten tomatoes thrown at the Post-Mortem, but I've always been an optimist. I better get downstairs and find out, I expect.