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Nothing Could be Finer than a Con in North Carolina
So Tita and I are in Raleigh, North Carolina, up here from San Juan to visit our son Ian for ten days.
I e-mailed John Kessel last week, offering to treat him to lunch sometime during our visit, and he wrote back to say there was a regional con called Tri-noC being held this weekend at the Raleigh Hilton, of which he is the Guest of Honor, and to ask if I might be interested in attending. Which I was, having missed last year's Worldcon in Glascow and very likely going to miss this year's in Anaheim next month.
I knew from the pocket program at least one other writer I've met would be there -- James Patrick Kelly -- so imagine my happy surprise when I walked out of the first panel of the day, heard a voice say, "What are you doing here?" and turned to discover the smiling face of Ruth Nestvold, who had also flown in the night before, in her case from Stuttgart, Germany, for her annual six-week stint at the local IBM offices.
During the course of the day, John introduced me to Barry Malzberg and Gregory Frost, I chatted a bit with Jim Kelly, and I met Gene Wolfe, whose reading of a soon-to-be published short story titled The Hour of the Sheep I attended, after which he graciously signed my copies of two of his collections Starwater Strains and Innocents Aboardd.
I'm supposed to call John on Monday to set up our lunch date for before he goes out of town on Thursday.
I e-mailed John Kessel last week, offering to treat him to lunch sometime during our visit, and he wrote back to say there was a regional con called Tri-noC being held this weekend at the Raleigh Hilton, of which he is the Guest of Honor, and to ask if I might be interested in attending. Which I was, having missed last year's Worldcon in Glascow and very likely going to miss this year's in Anaheim next month.
I knew from the pocket program at least one other writer I've met would be there -- James Patrick Kelly -- so imagine my happy surprise when I walked out of the first panel of the day, heard a voice say, "What are you doing here?" and turned to discover the smiling face of Ruth Nestvold, who had also flown in the night before, in her case from Stuttgart, Germany, for her annual six-week stint at the local IBM offices.
During the course of the day, John introduced me to Barry Malzberg and Gregory Frost, I chatted a bit with Jim Kelly, and I met Gene Wolfe, whose reading of a soon-to-be published short story titled The Hour of the Sheep I attended, after which he graciously signed my copies of two of his collections Starwater Strains and Innocents Aboardd.
I'm supposed to call John on Monday to set up our lunch date for before he goes out of town on Thursday.