Con Report: ConnectiCon 2016
In Which Your Humble Blogger finds that the present is like a foreign country; they do things differently here.
In Which Your Humble Blogger finds that the present is like a foreign country; they do things differently here.
In Which Your Humble Blogger keeps going long after everyone else has stopped.
In Which Your Humble Blogger suspects they are on Google Maps, actually, but won’t go and look.
In Which Your Humble Blogger writes a summary of a nonexistent play. It’s easier than writing the play.
In Which Your Humble Blogger is just talking about novels, leaving out the short stories and films and all, but also leaving out the bit where I complain about the Art situation.
In Which Your Humble Blogger breaks down, and cries.
In Which Your Humble Blogger fails on the race issue himself, which is part of the point, isn’t it?
In Which Your Humble Blogger appears to be easily satisfied, but on the other hand, if easily doesn’t mean frequently, maybe it doesn’t mean easily either.
In Which Your Humble Blogger stands on the outside, looking out.
In Which Your Humble Blogger has read four of the last five Hugo-winning novels, three of them before they won, if I remember correctly.