I’m much more extravagant when I’m spending a man’s money. There is really only one reason to go to a hotel with a man. Wrong. It’s to be pampered.

We caught another Laurell K. Hamilton panel. It seems that the Anita Blake series may have been the forerunner of the paranormal romance lines that are currently so popular. One thing that struck me about the panel’s remarks was the recurring theme that publishers tell an author there is not a market for their material.

Readers are looking for something new and extraordinary and the writer that offers a change will have an audience. Some readers get attached to formulas and balk at change. You can’t please all readers, so don’t even try.

The most exciting thing I discovered this weekend, from the Academia and SF panel, is that Steven E. Wedel is teaching science fiction at a local high-school. College professors have included science fiction books as required reading for years. Suzzett Haden Elgin stated that her Native Tongue is required reading in many college’s linguistic courses. When she taught, she used science fiction books in her own linguistic classes. Other members of the panel have used science fiction material in women’s studies, literature, history and even science and math courses. But it’s great to discover they are using science fiction as a part of a high-school curriculum.

Miss Elgin talked about a creative writing course she taught. Her students were assigned to write an entire book in sixteen weeks. She insisted they hand in one chapter every week and they had to complete the book in order to pass the course. What a nightmare. Wish I could write that fast. Dion and I decided that we are going to use that time frame for all first drafts. Let’s see how long it last.

I sat in on a panel about organizing Science Fiction conventions. I think I volunteered for World Con when it comes to Kansas in a few years. I’ve volunteered at a couple of SF conventions in the past, and of course I’ve got a lot of experience working on writing conferences.

All in all it was a great weekend. I had Hot Sex, it’s a drink, at Susan Satterfield’s drive-by party. I learned a few new writing tricks from authors like Laurell K. Hamilton, Robin Wayne Bailey, Elizabeth Moon, and many, many others, saw some fantastic art by artist like John Picacio, David Lee Anderson, and a talented lady, whose name I’ve forgotten but I will recognize her work the next time I see it and I’ll let you know then, got to hear some wonderful readings, and spent a lot of time with some of my favorite people.

I wish I could have attended every session, met every author, artist, and musician, attended every party, and said hello to every attendee. I wish I had the powers of that X-Men character that can make unlimited copies of himself, for no particular reason, and then they all go back to being one person. Then I’d never miss anything. That would be a right good thing.

Birds of Prey (not Klingon) from Royal Gauntlet Educational Birds of Prey and Rehabilitation Center, and wild animals -on leashes of course- from Safari’s Sanctuary roamed the hallways of Conestoga among invisible LARPERS, Klingon’s, vampires, musketeers, and Anime characters dressed in Japanese attire. Not to mention all the women in Kimonos -bought at the convention- made by Butterfly Creations. My daughter and her best friends made it to the convention. Children always so sweet when they want money. There was even a Crow T. Robot look-alike rolling along the hallways’ video taping the events.

Sword fighting, film critiquing, gaming, writing workshops, readings, and book signings; oh my! So much to do, so little time. Dion, Lisa and I considered splitting up, attending separate programs, then sharing notes later.

We managed to catch a fantastic reading, in a Haitian accent, by Linda Donahue, of her short story -sorry I don’t recall the title- from the Loving the Undead Anthology, From the Asylum Books. Yard Dog Press’ Production of the Merlene Show was just as funny as at Sooner Con, sans injuries to the cast. David Lee Anderson avoided the table.

After a long, busy, entertaining day Dion and I sought refuge -in the bar- with Leonard Bishop, Beverly Hale, Bill Allen, and Sally Allen. During the appetizers we were joined by Tim Chessmore, Neil Mavis, and briefly by Adrian Simmons before he wandered off to raise a class to Jim Baen along with almost everyone else attending Conestoga. We raised our glasses too, from our table, but we were too busy eating, visiting, and resting to make the climb up two stubby steps and across the bar to join the crowd. They didn’t seem to miss us.

I never made it to the open Filking in spite of the fact that Frank Bielowicz wrote a filk just for me, about Klingon Honor, to the tune of Greensleeves. During the filking in the con-suite at Sooner Con I had asked if anyone knew a filk to that tune. None of the filkers there knew of any, so Frank promised to write one for me by Conestoga. I was an extra surprise that he made it about Klingons. He did sing it for me after the Musketeer Demonstration where I learned a few important lessons about the art of sword play that will show up in at least one story some time in the future -if I ever finish the dozen I’m currently working on.

I did win a K’doack mom’Ment award for my Klingon Tourist visiting Earth in the Masquerade. The prize included a very attractive award certificate and a bag full of brownies. No! Not that kind of brownies.

The Play: Lost Heroes of Battlestar Galactica was hysterical heresy. Selina Rosen made a perfectly type casted Star Buck, Randy Farran, looking way fine, sang a collection of TV land theme filks, played the mandolin and performed multiple speaking roles in multiple accents. I missed the name of the Dude, that played the Dude, that always says Dude, on Lost but he was a really cool Dude. And little Jack ? nearly stole the show with his roll as a fleet of cylon fighter ships.

By the time we reached Beverly Hale’s room, for some sex on the beach in the bathroom with Leonard, a crowd of artist, authors, and Conestoga staff gathered in the room spilling out into the hallway and right into the FenCon party next door. The prominently absent Bill Allen was off playing bouncer at a local night club.

Dion and I pooped out much too early, rushing back to our room, like a couple of Cinderellas at the stroke of midnight. I do wish I had taken pictures of Dion falling asleep, while watching wrestling, sitting straight up in bed with the channel changer in her hand. Unfortunately I was so sleepy the idea never even crossed my mind until the next day.

I know I’m a day behind. I seldom do anything in real time. I’ll tell you all about Sunday at Conestoga tomorrow.

Oh one more thing. I made a mistake yesterday. The title of Bill Allen’s super funny story in Houston: We’ve Got Bubbas! is Planet of the Hill Apes.

Friday.

After a late sprint out of the gate we made excellent time from Norman to Tulsa in less than two hours. Without stopping to pee and barely get lost. Amazing.

Registration was as smooth as ice on a northern pond in the dead of winter. Our first stop was the art show. Not a great idea. Dion is an art fanatic and wanted to buy every piece in the gallery. Surprise she bought only one. But she did get a bidder’s number so we will probably go home with a couple of Picacio’s.

This year’s Conestoga charity is Safari’s Sanctuary in Broken Arrow, Oklahoma, www.safarissanctuary.org They brought a beautiful wolf, an albino python, an eight week old albino opossum named Parris Hiltion, a lavender skunk, a brown skunk, a live alligator on a leash -thank God-, and a lemur to the opening ceremonies. There was nearly an unpleasant incident with Parris and the big, Not So Bad, wolf.

Dinner with Laurell K. Hamilton was very pleasant. I did get a couple of pictures but the poor woman suffers from migraines and must wear shades. Her husband Jonathan Green is as entertaining as she.

We spent the evening trying to ‘ho our writing out to Selina Rosen at the Yard Dog Press www.yarddogpress.com ‘Ho party. But Selina was too busy pimping the hurling monkeys and singing hymns to pay much attention to us poor ole Okie ‘Ho’s. Several Hurling monkeys later Dion and I slithered back to our room to read the first story of Yard Dog’s new Houston: We’ve Got Bubbas! aloud. Bill Allen’s Oh shit Who Let Those Dumbasses in NASA was so funny we could barely read it through the tears and the laughter.

Unfortunately the banging on the wall next door discouraged us from reading the next story aloud so we decided it was nap time. Now we’re up and getting ready for Day Two. I of course will be a Klingon today. Dion is going to be a slutty medieval vampire. Lisa refuses to be seen with us in public. There will be a lot of SF adventure to report later and plenty of photos as soon as I get the film developed.

Anyone planning to attend?

Be sure to say hi!

I’ll be the little ole fat female Klingon.

Still I was content. I had power, finished my piece by deadline, and all was well with my world. Then the prongs on the foreign adapter got bent and it stopped working. No battery power, no AC adapter, no computer. Death to a writer.

Thank goodness I’ve got this wonderful little digital voice recorder. No great American novels lost forever.

Frantically I borrowed a computer, because no one can actually contact Dell by phone, in spite of their television commercials. It takes an expert to determine which parts to order. I’m not an expert, but I did find the correct adapter. It cost less than half the price of the universal adapter and was delivered in only two days.

Reminded me of that old adage, “Haste makes waste.”

We should pay more attention to adages, fables, old wives’ tales. We should pay more attention to that little voice inside our heads that tells us to avoid those places into which we rarely dare to venture. Subconsciously we know better.