Alison Sinclair

It was the best of cons, it was the worst of cons … Well, maybe not, but it definitely had its ups and downs. Lynda’s suitcase, full of copies of Throne Price and the Rustycon edition of Mekan’stan, failed to make the 20 minute tranfer in Vancouver between a delayed flight from Prince George and the on-time flight to Seattle. Lynda’s end of the telephone inquisition required to connect her (not yet found) luggage to her gave her roommate (me) some morbid entertainment. The joys of Explaining Oneself to Officialdom – particularly when said officialdom don’t have it together. Luggage reappeared mid Saturday morning, and Lynda undertook to divest herself of the contents in as many deserving directions as possible, on the premise that if it went awol on the return flight there would be nothing to lose!

Lynda started out on Friday with “Making Characters Die” and “Writing a Sex Scene in SF”, which was where I tracked her down after I rolled in at 9:30 pm or thereabouts, having taken the 506 from SeaTac, and not having lost my luggage. Though I discovered that while having carry on baggage searched was irksome, having to walk the length of Vancouver airport, retrieve my luggage from within a glassed-in carosel, prove it’s mine, lug it through US Customs and Immigration, reload it onto a conveyer belt etc, was enough to convert me to the principle of carry on and only carry on until they develop Transporters.

My first panel was “Make those Characters Speak Up!” with: Lynda, Kevin Radthorne, who was showing off (cool plastic stand!) his novel The Road to Kotaishi, published by Windstorm press. He did the cover himself using Bryce, and if he is not being utterly disingenuous about his lack of artistic talent, I gotta have that program! Susan Matthews, who has finally produced another installment of her Judiciary series (so I get to [a] read about how Andrej Kosciusko finally gets to make his break with Fleet and his damnable – and I mean it literally – job as chief surgeon and inquisitor … and lands up in even more trouble and [b] update my Medicine and Science Fiction page). After I went through my recitation of various subtleties of dialogue, learned largely from Bernard Grebanier’s book Playwriting and my love of drama, she said cheerfully “I cheat,” tossed off an example of the shorthand that the writer can use, taking advantage of modern cultures and assumptions, and then took the high road and described the intricacies of her polyglot, multicultural Judiciary universe.

The next panel we spectated at, “Contracts: your rights as an artist, author, or musician”, a one-woman show by Jennifer DiMarco of Windstorm Creative, followed by “To POD or not POD”, featuring Jennifer (“Pods are evil!”) DiMarco, Kevin (“Born of a POD”) Radthorne, Dave (“Multipod”) Duncan, and Jack Beslanwitch (whose alignment I am afraid I cannot recall). Though until I see one of those infamous machines in action, I’m not going to believe all the descriptions I get of it lining and binding without getting glue over everything! After that Lynda, Kevin and myself did “Developing your Creativity” with an abundance of writers in the audience, so we wandered cheerfully between rituals, angst, and works in progress, as well as Where Ideas Come From. (I’m in favour of Pratchett’s cosmic ray theory myself: in Wyrd Sisters he explains creativity as a sleet of particles of inspiration constantly bombarding the human brain – which every so often stops one or two. Certain unfortunate people – like the Dwarf playwright Hwel – have such high stopping power that they have difficulty finishing a sentence without having another idea.)

(Two entries merged into one, September 30, 2007; original first date preserved).

… was the title of one of the panels I did in Seattle. Here’s the list I came up with:

• Desire – they have to want something and be prepared to go after it. To my mind essential for the central character or “engine” of a story. An inactive central character is a terrible burden for a story. I don’t say it can’t be done, but it’s “advanced writing”.
• A certain amount of unreasonableness. Bloodymindedness, I call it. The disinclination to listen to sensible arguments.
• Faith. I realised, writing the list, that my characters have some fundamental faith in something, whether deity or equation. They believe the universe is ordered. This probably betrays my Presbyterian origins. The world is ordered. But it could be ordered better. Both my heros and villains are out to order the universe better.
• Blindspots: imperfect knowledge of themselves or estimation of others. Characters who are decieved by others aren’t nearly as interesting as those who at risk of decieving themselves.
• Appetites. Kind of goes with desires, but not entirely. The example I use was the wonderful bit of characterization of the political officer in Babylon 5, the voracious little blonde who turned up to subvert and seduce John Sheridan. Usually when one has a slim and wicked woman on a TV show, if she eats at all, she sips a drink and nibbles on a salad. But this one noshed! I think she had three meals, and at one point was tucking into what looked like pasta! (Or maybe it was gagh!) That was characterization!
• An area of mastery. I like writing about characters who are good at something.
• Weird hobbies. They have to have some area of interest that is completely irrelevant to the story. It may never make it into the novel – they may be running too fast to indulge in it – but I know it’s there.
• A distinctive way of expressing themselves. Ideally, I’d like any sustained bit of dialogue to be immediately identifiable as being theirs.

Back from Seattle, Rustycon. Memos to self: (1) in future take my own name badge, so even if the type on the badges is 14 point, I will be identifiable (2) request a printout of my schedule beforehand so that I can protest 4-panel stretches over lunch in advance of arrival. Sustainance today has consisted of: cinnamon roll and OJ at Barnes and Noble; 2 chocolate chip cookies waiting for the bus at 2 pm; 6 pieces of sushi in Seattle airport at 3:30 pm; one chocolate bar in Vancouver airport at 5:30 pm; 1 glass of rice milk at 9 pm. This was my own fault, for finding airport food and grocery shopping so unappealing. Had the usual mixture of ‘why am I DOING this’ and ‘when’s the next one’; found myself decidedly under-dressed for the occasion – though useful when passing for mundane in the hotel restuarant; am beginning to wonder if having Dr. on one’s credit card (change having finally stuck with the bank) results in getting better rooms. I don’t think I am growing deafer, or more tolerant. Wondered if airport employees are forbidden by contract from discussing public transit – all enquiries as to how to reach hotel led to taxis. Legwork eventually led to bus, with net saving $100+. Memo to self: advance-research public transit. Pretty good panels, although the worldbuilding one concluded in a decidedly licentous vein. But there were some nifty ideas floated, beforehand. And one of my fellow panellists had actually read Blueheart. I am still rather grovellingly grateful if someone I do not know has read one of my books!