This morning I woke up at 7:25, in Brooklyn, hungover. My train left at 8:15 from Penn Station in Manhattan. It was a photo finish. Though maybe it’s better that no photos of that event are actually available.
The train is — over the course of 11 hours — taking me to WorldCon in Montreal. I’ve never been before, but judging by the program this thing is a beast. Not like Comic-Con in terms of sheer numbers, but big, and intense. And it goes on and on — 5 days (I’m only going for 3 because, you know, job). It’s a world unto itself; there are morning fricking aerobics at this con. I went through the schedule and wrote a list of the events I absolutely had to make it to. There are 39 of them.
The line-up bristles with heavy-hitters — Neil Gaiman, George R.R. Martin, Robert Silverberg, Patrick Rothfuss, Eoin Colfer, Guy Gavriel Kay, Cory Doctorow, and on and on. Bristles. There is every chance that I will finally be united with my childhood idol Larry Niven. I’m sure he yearns for this as ardently as I do.
It’s appropriate that I’m taking a train, since I’m on a steampunk panel. And ones on reading and history. And I’m doing a reading from the book. Stop by if you’re here.