pre-Wiscon thoughts

I'm feeling very fannishly productive. Tiptree Award stuff is going well, and I'm working my way through the Wiscon program participant sign-up form (which actually uses Javascript sensibly). And occasional thoughts are wandering through, as I look at brief descriptions of possible panels:
People always think they're living in the end times--that doesn't mean they'll always be wrong. (The context on this is a proposed panel on ecological disaster. In Always Coming Home one of the many voices observes that "the world has ended four times that we know of".
An alien visitation would make a difference—sf fans tend not to believe in alien abduction stories because we don't (or don't want to) believe in a First (or Million-and-first) Contact that makes no difference. And this may be part of my problem with my stalled novel.

I also infer that I'm on the Tiptree Award panel--which had spaces for attend but not for "be on it" and is described as "this year's jury will discuss the process." Was I supposed to be taking notes? (I have notes, but they're emails sent about specific books and stories, to my fellow jurors.)

As a side note, my hands and dexterity aren't prepared to click lots of extra little boxes, so I haven't put "no" in any of the things I wouldn't attend, or don't want to be on: only yeses and maybes. And the form is long enough--because there are so many suggestions--that I'm flagging by the end, so I hope I don't give the writing possibities short shrift. (It's sorted into categories, which are listed alphabetically.)

holyoutlaw, if you think any of this will be useful to Jane, please pass it on to her.

My Minicon planning is also going well: I need more Green Room staff, but I have a Loyal Assistant and a local volunteer to handle shopping.

pre-Wiscon thoughts

I'm feeling very fannishly productive. Tiptree Award stuff is going well, and I'm working my way through the Wiscon program participant sign-up form (which actually uses Javascript sensibly). And occasional thoughts are wandering through, as I look at brief descriptions of possible panels:
People always think they're living in the end times--that doesn't mean they'll always be wrong. (The context on this is a proposed panel on ecological disaster. In Always Coming Home one of the many voices observes that "the world has ended four times that we know of".
An alien visitation would make a difference—sf fans tend not to believe in alien abduction stories because we don't (or don't want to) believe in a First (or Million-and-first) Contact that makes no difference. And this may be part of my problem with my stalled novel.

I also infer that I'm on the Tiptree Award panel--which had spaces for attend but not for "be on it" and is described as "this year's jury will discuss the process." Was I supposed to be taking notes? (I have notes, but they're emails sent about specific books and stories, to my fellow jurors.)

As a side note, my hands and dexterity aren't prepared to click lots of extra little boxes, so I haven't put "no" in any of the things I wouldn't attend, or don't want to be on: only yeses and maybes. And the form is long enough--because there are so many suggestions--that I'm flagging by the end, so I hope I don't give the writing possibities short shrift. (It's sorted into categories, which are listed alphabetically.)

holyoutlaw, if you think any of this will be useful to Jane, please pass it on to her.

My Minicon planning is also going well: I need more Green Room staff, but I have a Loyal Assistant and a local volunteer to handle shopping.

That made no sense at all

Gary Tesser [1] just called me. It's been long enough since we spoke that he asked for me by full name when I answered the phone (instead of recognizing my voice). When I admitted to being myself--figuring this was probably a response to some business- or job-related thing I'd sent out--he asked if I had a minute. Okay, this is either serious news or a request for something.

No. He told me he hoped this didn't sound like pandering" but that I am "an intelligent human being of the female persuasion" [2]. Oh-kay. Warning bells are going off.

It turned out that he was calling to tell me about a program on the History Channel tomorrow, about women inventors, and that I might be interested. I said "I might be, if I had a television set." Yes, I know somebody who owns one (he asked). No, I am not going to plan my Friday evening around a television program.

After a bit of randomness, he asked "Is that it?" to which I pointed out "You called me, you know whether that's it." What he said next made no sense--as in, it wasn't in any language I recognized--but was followed by a pro forma apology for swearing, and a repetition of the question. I said "Goodbye" and hung up the phone.

[1] A New York area sf fan, not someone I've ever known well.

[2] I'm not sure persuasion has much to do with it. It's what I got in the genetic randomness, and not something I feel a desire to change, but "of the female persuasion" is one of those half-jokes that seems odder and odder as time goes on.

That made no sense at all

Gary Tesser [1] just called me. It's been long enough since we spoke that he asked for me by full name when I answered the phone (instead of recognizing my voice). When I admitted to being myself--figuring this was probably a response to some business- or job-related thing I'd sent out--he asked if I had a minute. Okay, this is either serious news or a request for something.

No. He told me he hoped this didn't sound like pandering" but that I am "an intelligent human being of the female persuasion" [2]. Oh-kay. Warning bells are going off.

It turned out that he was calling to tell me about a program on the History Channel tomorrow, about women inventors, and that I might be interested. I said "I might be, if I had a television set." Yes, I know somebody who owns one (he asked). No, I am not going to plan my Friday evening around a television program.

After a bit of randomness, he asked "Is that it?" to which I pointed out "You called me, you know whether that's it." What he said next made no sense--as in, it wasn't in any language I recognized--but was followed by a pro forma apology for swearing, and a repetition of the question. I said "Goodbye" and hung up the phone.

[1] A New York area sf fan, not someone I've ever known well.

[2] I'm not sure persuasion has much to do with it. It's what I got in the genetic randomness, and not something I feel a desire to change, but "of the female persuasion" is one of those half-jokes that seems odder and odder as time goes on.