Brugger and I set out bright and early for Scares That Care AuthorCon II this morning, loaded to the gills with my various books and old copies of Deathrealm to hopefully foist on the unsuspecting populace. We had good weather and mostly good driving conditions, at least at first. Just west of Durham, NC, some moron damn near collided with me in her ridiculous zeal to zoom across three lanes of traffic. Then, just north of Durham, NC, we ran into a two-mile, hour-long traffic jam due to both highway construction and accidents (the accidents clearly being the result of idiotic judgment on someone's part in the highway construction zone). Happily, we survived these ugly setbacks, and the rest of the trip went swimmingly — particularly our stop at Indian Fields Tavern in Charles City, where we both found burgers of the most heavenly persuasion. I grabbed a nearby geocache. From there, driving was a breeze, and we sailed into Williamsburg in good condition and tolerable spirits.
I immediately ran into a few authors/good friends — Brian Keene,
Dave Simms, Ronald Kelly, Maurice Broaddus, Tim Waggoner, Dave & Trish Wilson, David Dodd, Rich Dansky, Mark Sieber, Bridgett Nelson, Jeff Strand, Lynne Hansen,
Sidney Williams, and numerous others. Brugger and I set up our dealer
table in our designated conference room, and it wasn't long before the opening
ceremony kicked off the event.
As we sort of expected, with so many areas full of vendors and ugly weather
setting in to dampen prospective attendees, the first night of the show was a
bit slow. Still, we managed to make a loverly time of it. I picked up dinner
from the nearby
Emerald Thai restaurant and brought it back to our table. After the closing bell,
Brugger and I hung out for a while with drinks, Dave & Trish Wilson, and
Crossroad Press's David Dodd. Before retiring, Ms. B. and I
ventured to the grocery store to snag some staples.
We didn't get wealthy on the first night of the con, but we sure snagged a
bunch of free-floating joy.
The monstrously delicious Charles City Burger at Indian Fields Tavern |
Mr. Keene and Mr. Deathrealm |
"Menacing" Maurice Broaddus |
Richard Dansky and David Niall Wilson |
After a quick continental breakfast at the hotel, Brugger and I headed to the
convention area, only to find our designated conference room had been all but
cleared out. A couple of tables remained in the room, ours included.
Apparently, since traffic in the outlying rooms had been sparse, the wonderful
con folks had moved as many vendors as possible into the main convention area.
Brian Keene oversaw getting our table into a higher-traffic area, and this
move paid off from the moment Brugger and I sat our asses down in our chairs.
Before we knew it, business was booming, and books were moving. It was all the
merrier for us, too, because friend Dave Simms settled into the adjacent space,
and we shot some serious shit at each other throughout the weekend. Although I spent most of
the day at the table, I did wander a bit so I could seek out some writers and
editors I hadn't previously met in the flesh. Kenneth Cain,
James Aquilone, Red Lagoe, Jonathan Janz, and a few other folks couldn't hide
from me, despite their best efforts...
Midday, Ms. B. drove over to a nearby Subway for a couple of subs, which
she brought back for us to eat at our table. Shortly after lunch, I
participated in the "Golden Years of Horror" panel: a look at the horror-lit
boom of the 1980s and 1990s, mostly from the perspective of those of us old
enough to have participated in it. Yeah, that would be me. Also on board were Jonathan Janz (moderator), Sherrilyn Kenyon,
James Chambers, Tim Lebbon, Mary Sangiovanni,
Maurice Broaddus, Tim Waggoner, Ron Malfi, and
Ronald Kelly. It was a great discussion, though with so many
participants, time for detailed discourse was limited. Still, thanks to Mr.
Janz's effective moderating and so much talent smushed together in one room,
it was a sharp, informative, and all-around fun panel discussion.
At 4:15 p.m. Ron Kelly and I shared a reading slot. I read "Night Crier" (originally published in 34Orchard magazine and reprinted in Fugue Devil: Resurgence), and Ron read a tale that will be coming out in a new fiction collection.
It wasn't the biggest audience ever, but it was a very receptive audience. As "Night
Crier" came to its conclusion, a chorus of gasps filled the room, and that
was a perfectly gratifying response, particularly for this story. Happily, some of those audience members came around later to buy books. Ron also
drew the audience in, so this turned out to be one of my favorite public
readings in recent years.
After the reading, Brugger and I somehow found ourselves in the hotel bar,
where I ended up with a smoked Old Fashioned. A delicious drink, and just
the ticket for concluding the con business day and kicking off the con fun
time. For dinner, Dave Wilson rounded up a crowd of ten, including us. We
settled on Maurizio's Italian Restaurant, which was a short walk from the hotel. Our group was split
among a couple of tables; Brugger and I sat with Ron Kelly and his wife,
Joyce. Now, I've known Ron for years, but I believe this was the most time
we've ever spent together in person. As a writer, he's a machine; his
catalog of written works is so massive it humbles me. And Joyce is a fun,
lovely lady, full of vigor and antic-dotes of no small amusement.
David Sims, David Dodd, and David & Trish Wilson were among the other
diners (I suggested that everyone in the party change
their names to David to avoid confusion; for some reason, I don't think it took). The
Pappardelle Mavarico was delizioso, although it would have benefited
from a better balance of Mavarico to pasta; that was a lot of
pappardelle on that plate. The Valipolicello Ripasso hit the spot — a fine complement to the entrée.
Dave, Dave, Dave, Trish, Brugger, and I had all sworn off karaoke this year,
so — needless to say — we ended up in the karaoke hall. By this time,
think most of the con folks were at the gross-out contest, so there wasn't a
huge crowd. Still, there was racket to be made here, so we whooped out some noise. I
gave 'em "Eyes Without a Face" (Billy Idol) and "Sweet Caroline" (Neil
Diamond). Brugger joined in on the latter tune to whip up audience
participation, plus she sang a few songs on her own. And Mr. Wilson hit us with some spirited soul music. It was all a hoot, to be sure.
I can't be certain what time we finally broke up and returned to our
respective quarters, but it wasn't early (well, yes, it was early
morning). Brugger and I had determined that we'd only spend a relatively
short time at the con the next morning because we wanted to explore Historic Williamsburg and possibly seek a few geocaches.
Once our heads hit the pillows, we were pretty well out.
Joyce and Ron Kelly at their table in the main ballroom |
David Simms doing his best to look unmenacing |
Ms. B. might have been a little hungover this morning...
Sure enough, we spent only an hour or so at our vendor table before packing
up, but I did sell a few more books in that time.
Once we'd loaded
the car, we headed into Historic Williamsburg, found a parking garage, and set
out walking. I've been to Williamsburg a goodly number of times over the
years, but I haven't actually gone deep into the historic quarter since I was
a young teen with my family. A nice Adventure Lab cache led us on a tour of
some of Williamsburg's most noteworthy locations and also offered us a couple
of miles of much-needed walking. Among my favorite highlights were the horse and buggies carrying tourists along the old lanes; the ubiquitous smell of smoke, which would have been much like in Colonial times; the shopkeepers, employees, and other folks dressed in Colonial garb; and the Colonial architecture in general. Just a beautiful place, and unlike yesterday,
the weather wasn't ugly.
We'd made reservations for lunch at a joint called
DoG Street Pub, so once we'd completed the Adventure Lab walk, we headed for the pub. Their
fish & chips were awesome — and the portion was huge! Brugger had a
turkey-BLT wrap, which she enjoyed. Neither of us indulged in any spirits, as
after last night, that might have been a bad idea.
Then we hit the road. Yes, I stopped for a couple of caches. We also damn near
got killed — again — by another blind moron who did exactly the
same thing as the dumb fuck on the way to con on Friday: they switched lanes
without even looking, which put them on a collision course with me, and when I
laid on my horn, the idiots just kept coming, forcing me to take
dangerous evasive action. I thank Yog that my reflexes were fast enough to avoid what would almost certainly been serious accidents.
Despite having to deal with certain superlative
citizens of Planet Moronica, we made it home safely.
As for Scares That Care AuthorCon II... what can I say? I'd previously been to
the now-defunct Scares That Care Charity Weekend, but I wasn't able to
attend the first AuthorCon last year. My thanks and compliments to Brian Keene and all
the con organizers and staff. Their priority — their mission — was to
make the event a superlative, inclusive experience for guests, vendors,
and attendees, and by all accounts, everyone involved went above and beyond with every aspect of the con. I hope to be there for AuthorCon 3.
Here's a few shots of the sights along our walk through Williamsburg.