I’ve had a crazy week, crazier weekend–both crazy good. I started a day job as a community management consultant for Projectline, who recently made the list of Washington’s 100 Best Companies to Work for (by Seattle Business Magazine)! That’s been a bit all-consuming, but pleasantly exciting. My co-workers are very smart, engaged, and interesting people, the work is going to be challenging, the best of what I could hope for, really. I feel super lucky for finding this gig, especially in such an unlikely economy.
Friday was the combo Locus Awards/Clarion West party in honor of John Kessel, who just finished teaching week one. I went to Kessel’s reading at the University Bookstore Tuesday night, and was too awestruck to introduce myself–I am the hugest John Kessel fan in creation. Seriously. When I was writing lit fic, banging my head against walls, I read Kessel’s story “Buddha Nostril Bird,” which singlehandedly made me reconsider genre (I grew up a fan, as most of you know/guess, but somehow never thought, for some idiot reason, I could do serious literary work in SFF. Dumb). But that story led me to seek out more of his work, which got me reading again in the genre, which was the kick in the head that I needed. Anyway, Kessel = ROCK STAR in my head, so Friday, pal Todd Vandemark (a current CW student and author of this week’s excellent Brain Harvest story) introduced me and I managed to effuse without creeping him out. I even got to buy him a drink.
Saturday was the Locus Awards/Science Fiction Hall of Fame Induction. So.many.writers.and.artists. Got John Kessel and Nancy Kress to sign battered copies of their books for me, then walked around and just goggled at people with my CW fam (Maggie Croft, Chris Reynega, Carlton Mellick III, Rose O’Keefe and friends were up for the event). I even talked to quite a few other people, including Elizabeth Bear, who is super funny and really nice, and got a signed print for my Chris from Michael Whelan (who was also very, very, very nice!).
I was publicly shamed for not wearing a Hawaiian shirt, as required, but was sufficiently penitent, so I think Connie Willis (my teacher, my heroine, and now, 2009 SF Hall of Fame-r) forgave me.
Is your head swimming yet? Mine is.
Sunday, I missed the Pride parade, but did have a pho breakfast with Chris and Maggie before they took off back to the Bay Area. Then, seriously, I can’t remember anything else I managed to do, of any note, aside from watch a bit of “Ninja Warrior” with husband, have a Brain Harvest editorial meeting, and eat ice cream for dinner—one of the few truly awesome things about being an adult—I mean, if I have to deal with gravity and taxes, then I should treasure my ice cream dinners.
Now the week turns back on itself and I am at my day job again. Tonight—CW writeathon writing time—tomorrow, the Karen Joy Fowler reading at the University Bookstore (7pm, free!). Come! I’ve never seen her read, but I have heard piles and piles of great stuff about her.