Monday, November 02, 2015

Coping with the Flu through Graphic Novels

An apple a day certainly does not keep the doctor away, but one thing I've learned over the years is that reading graphic novels helps me cope when I'm down with the flu for a week or two.

I don't exactly know why. Maybe it's because a graphic novel is a detailed story that can be absorbed in a single dose over an hour or two, and so it's easy on an exhausted mind and body. Or the combination of dialogue and images are less taxing than pure text where the brain has to create everything from scratch. But being sick doesn't stop me from reading regular novels though. Maybe it's as simple as graphic novels being comfort food for the imagination... kind of like chicken soup, except with full-page single panel explosions and characters engaged in scripted pose-offs.

I tend to stockpile graphic novels for the sick times too. Sure, I read some when I first pick them up at the comic store, but others I'll shelve for the sick reserve so that I'll have something "new" to read when I'm stuck in the house for days on end. Illness is also a good time to re-read old favourites... with some exceptions: I found out the hard way about four years ago that it really, really isn't a good idea to re-read Arkham Asylum late at night in the midst of a crushing fever.

In any case, I've been beat-up by a bug for a little over a week, and (with the exception of Monday when the fever was so bad I thought I was a banana tree for a little while) to help deal with it, I've been reading a graphic novel a day. Here's a quick rundown of my prescription for a pre-Hallowe'en flu, along with some reviews (needless to say, here there be spoilers):

Star Wars Darth Vader — Vader by Kieron Gillen, Salvador Larroca and Edgar Delgado
Okay, to be fair, I read this one a couple of weeks before I got sick, but it was just so damn good, I couldn't leave it off of this review list. I mean, how could you not love a book where Darth Vader lays down a Force choke on Jabba the Hutt (in a nice father-daughter nod to the crime lord's ultimate fate in 'Jedi) within the first few pages? The art work is fantastic, the story in this volume is good, and Gillen does a great job of writing Vader true to how he was portrayed in the original trilogy: the choice of words and their delivery, the way he deals with others, and how he moves through the story is thoroughly authentic. I was initially cautious when I saw this comic series first appear on the shelves, but after this first collection of issues, I'm looking forward to the next Darth Vader graphic novel.

Doctor Who — The Weeping Angels of Mons by Robbie Morrison, Daniel Indro, Eleonora Carlini, Slamet Mujiono and Hi-Fi
This graphic novel probably would have been more appropriate for Remembrance Day than Hallowe'en, but "Blink" was one of the scarier episodes of Doctor Who, and a story featuring the Weeping Angels stalking soldiers amidst the ruins of a French town during the horrors of the First World War is conceptually frightening enough to be worthy of October 31st. While the illustrations of our hero rarely come close to actually looking like David Tennant, the dialogue and depictions of movement are spot-on for the Tenth Doctor.  The main story of the flight of the soldiers and the Doctor and his Companion, Gabby Gonzalez, from the Angels was suitably fast-paced, and the tension was enhanced by the gloomy colouring of the art and its unflinchingly adult portrayal of the brutality of war (such as the full-page spread where we see not only bodies strewn across the battlefield during a charge, but a man being shot through the neck while another is impaled and still another is burned — not details we'd see on the more kid-friendly TV instalments of the Doctor's adventures). But I also appreciated the side stories of the soldiers, not just trying to survive, but talking with each other about home, and later on, what happened to them when each was eventually confronted by the Angels — they were given the full treatment of primary characters, rather than being casually discarded as background props. By showing the soldiers' fates, the story gets added weight by reinforcing the danger of any meeting with an Angel, but more importantly, it makes these characters memorable — memorable in spite of the fact that they're not the Doctor or his Companion or generals who would be written about in history books — and in so doing, it reinforces the underlying idea that every soldier who went off to World War I (or who has served his or her country in any capacity) was a person with his or her own story who is worthy of being remembered.

Ghostbusters volumes 8 & 9 — Mass Hysteria parts 1 & 2 by Erik Burnham, Dan Schoening and Luis Antonio Delgado
One of the things that's really impressed me about the Ghostbusters graphic novels over the past few years is how they've done such a great job of capturing the feel of the movies. While the drawings are not meant to be portraits of the various actors, they definitely capture the impression of them, an impression that's heightened by dialogue that's true to what the characters might have said, and how they would have said it, if they'd been written by Dan Ackroyd and Harold Ramis like the originals were. The series has also had strength in its storytelling, which isn't afraid to get dark, and the artwork, which is rich in detail and allusions not just to the two movies, but to other films that the various actors were part of (from Ray's guardian angel looking like Jake Blues, to more subtle fare like the Hulkaburger restaurants), and even deeper references to other things that might not have a direct connection to the films, but are entirely appropriate none-the-less (like a cut-out ad for Mikey, Donald and Goofy's "Ajax Ghost Exterminators" company from Disney's ancient Lonesome Ghosts feature). What I also appreciate is that the series keeps time and the development of the characters moving forward — the team accumulates new equipment and makes technological developments, they have new political realities to deal with, and they have to deal with personal experiences with lasting consequences. This latest two-parter maintains that standard of excellence. "Mass Hysteria" has the boys in grey bringing back some of their associate members like FBI Agent Melanie Ortiz and the guys from the Chicago franchise, while Ray's store employee, Kylie Griffin, and Janine also suit up to help out again. They're faced with another divine incursion into the Earthly plane: the Sumerian goddess Tiamat has been stirring up trouble — including hijacking Dana Barrett and Louis Tully for another round of possession and transformation — as a prelude to a grudge match with her sibling, Gozer the Destructor. Amid the wisecracks and the blasting of spectral badguys, there are some genuine human moments, such as when Peter and Dana talk about dealing with each other in the wake of their failed relationship; or when we see the emotional impact of Oscar no longer being part of Peter's day-to-day life; or, in a major plot point towards the end of the story, when one of the Ghostbusters is forced to deal with the hard consequences of what he's had to do to save the world. Who needs to wait for the new Ghostbusters movie (or movies, if some of the rumours are to be believed) when you've got comics that are this good?

Nemo — River of Ghosts by Alan Moore and Kevin O'Neill
It's always interesting to see what Alan Moore will do next to tap into pop culture sources both antiquated and modern to expand his League of Extraordinary Gentlemen mash-up universe, so you never need to twist my arm to go into the comic shop to buy the latest instalment. That said, some are stronger than others, and you need more to make a story worth while than just a grab-bag of obvious and obscure references set on a roller-coaster ride adventure. When it comes to River of Ghosts, the latest adventure of Captain Nemo's (now aging) daughter, Captain Janni Dakkar, the adventure moves along briskly enough, but there isn't enough attention paid to the personal angle of the story. It's 1975, and for Janni it isn't enough to be the ruler of a rich and powerful pirate nation, the head of an international syndicate of super villains, or a mother and grandmother — she has to ensure there's no unfinished business at the end of her life, and that every grudge is settled. That means that when rumours come to her of her old enemy Ayesha in league with Nazis in a secret base in South America, Janni is determined to go and personally settle old scores, regardless of any advice to the contrary from family, business associates, or the ghosts of old lovers, family, and friends who surround her, unseen by the rest of the world. Racing off with her crew — and stowaway grandson — in a new version of the Nautilus, she has to deal with dinosaurs and fembots on her quest for blood. As much as I enjoyed the references to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Lost World, and The Creature from the Black Lagoon, and Dr. Goldfoot and the Bikini Machine, as well as the secret Nazi base that would fit right in with any Hellboy adventure, the story didn't spend as much time as it should have with Janni actually coming to terms with the end of her life. Sure, there are the occasional bits with the ghosts, and the pacing of the story, along with some of the dialogue, is meant to show that Janni isn't allowing herself to think about anything else as she focusses on the mission, but really, I think a couple of added quiet moments of solitude when she couldn't escape the weight of her life would have given the story enough depth to be on par with Century 1910. There might have been room for that extra character development for Janni if Moore hadn't included the sub-plot about her grandson, Jack, and yet he needed to be part of the story to create the legacy for the next instalment as the universe continues to move forward. That said, I don't see why, as readers, we can't have our cake and eat it too, and have Moore allocate more page space to flushing-out Janni's experience, and introduce us to young Jack. I don't regret buying River of Ghosts, but it certainly isn't as memorable as some of the other League stories.

Hellboy — Conqueror Worm by Mike Mignola
Over the past couple of years, I've been slowly working my way through the back issues of the Hellboy graphic novel collections, and enjoying the process immensely. Conqueror Worm is no exception. The story sends Hellboy and Roger the homunculus to a castle in Austria where, decades earlier, head-in-a-jar Herman Von Klempt sent a dead Nazi scientist into space to bring back some Lovecraftian Old Ones to destroy the world. Now Von Klempt and his cronies are back, awaiting the return of the capsule and its horrific cargo. The ghost of Rasputin, along with the spirit of old-time hero Lobster Johnson, also wade into the fray, along with other homunculi and an evil upgraded gorilla. Carnage ensues and the world is saved, thanks to the very human efforts of Roger, in spite of the BPRD's inhumane view and treatment of him. Conqueror Worm has everything that makes a Hellboy instalment great: rip-roaring action, brooding art, monsters both human and supernatural, and at its heart, a story about Hellboy facing the challenge of doing the right thing and what it means to be good.

Hellboy and the BPRD 1952 by Mike Mignola, John Arcudi, Alex Maleev and Dave Stewart
Even though I'm not finished going through the Hellboy back issues yet, I saw the new '1952 graphic novel on the comic store shelf a while ago and decided to pick it up anyway, just to see how Mignola and his crew would do winding the clock back to Hellboy's early days in the supernatural superheroing business. While the art and subject matter are both worthy of the franchise, I can't say the same for the story. I didn't hate it, but for all its length, it felt rushed, and ultimately came off as flat. When a series goes on for as long as Hellboy's has, it's inevitable that it's going to stumble at some point, and I guess this is it. Hopefully the next volume will get the series back in the race.

Tuesday, October 06, 2015

Find My Review of Shadows of Self

My review of Brandon Sanderson's new Mistborn novel, Shadows of Self, is now up on SF Signal!

Of course, you should be reading SF Signal anyway because the site is loaded with Mind Melds, other reviews, links to stuff happening everywhere in the world of science fiction and fantasy, and all kinds of other cool stuff.

Just be sure to bring some bagels to appease the 'Signal's Bagel Overlord, John DeNardo. I've tried to bring him over to the good side of donuts, I really have, but I fear when it comes to his choice of foods with holes, he's wholly lost.

Monday, October 05, 2015

VCon Day 3 - Time's Up

In some respects, the true test of the quality of a science fiction convention is whether it's worth showing up for the last day. In most cases, that's a Sunday. And in most cases, the energy level is much, much lower than any other day of the con: everybody knows it's the end, everybody's tired from a couple of days of high-intensity nerdity, some are still hungover from Saturday night's parties, some don't even bother to show up because they're still sleeping off last night's parties, and of those who are still hanging around, some are checking out of the hotel and loading their cars — the mere sight of which is guaranteed to sap the energy out of the few remaining die-hards. All of these things were true today at VCon, and yet, for all of that, there was still a relatively good line-up of programming on the board, and enough people hung around that some of those sessions were reasonably crowded. Proof that, despite the pervasive feeling of thrown-together-at-the-last-minuteness and what appeared to be a smaller-than-normal turnout, this year's VCon was none-the-less a pretty good gathering.

My day started late (as usual) with me rolling in just before 11am to meet Joe Haldeman (the con's Author Guest of Honour) and his wife, Gay, for an interview. What's the interview for? Well, stay tuned, friends. You'll find out soon enough. In any case, we had a good chat, and I'm really grateful they were able to make some time in their schedule for me. In fact, we enjoyed ourselves enough that after the interview we ended up going for lunch together and continued to have a good time. Interesting fact (maybe it's common knowledge, but it's not something I knew before today): Haldeman loads his fountain pen with his own ink. He uses his skills as a painter to custom mix his own shade of red, which is a pretty cool way to add to the personalization when he autographs books for fans.

After lunch, I found myself drawn back to the dealers' room. The guy at the antiquities and replica jewelry stand I'd visited yesterday had some interesting Roman and Medieval pottery fragments for sale, and one in particular stood out in my mind: a small, 3rd Century Roman pot that had been made to look like an artichoke. It had been shattered over the centuries and glued back together by the dealer, and about a third of it is missing. But, aside from the look of the thing, I really liked the idea of just an ordinary pot that some ordinary citizen of the empire would have had in an ordinary kitchen. In some way, it makes it more real than a more dramatic piece like the blade of a gladius or a chunk from the corner of a scutum. And I thought it would look good in the display cabinet in our kitchen. The price was reasonable (because of its state), and so it didn't take much to convince me to buy it.

Once my ceramic treasure was safely stowed in the car, I went upstairs to catch the back half of the "Evolutionary Tree of Dragons" session. I don't always bother going to sessions when they're half-way through, but because this one was about dragons, I probably would have gone even if there were only 5 minutes left. And I wasn't the only one: that little room was packed like Glaurung's treasure hoard. The biologist doing the session had divided the different types of dragons and dragon-relations from myths around the world and fiction into different branches of a family tree based on their appearances, and gave scientific explanations for how each type would have branched off and maintained or lost certain features like legs or wings. Lots of good examples were mentioned by the biologist and the crowd, like Fafnir, Tiamat, Smaug, Falkor, Elliot, Vermithrax Pejorative, Temeraire, Drogon and his siblings, Puff, and the flight from Pern, but there was no love for  Smrgol, Gorbash, Breagh and their buddies, or Draco, or even Godzilla. Seriously? Smrgol was a badass. There needs to be respect. Anyhow, it was a good session.

When that was done, I decided to take a little break and do some reading down in the lobby. At one point the fire alarm went off, and everybody had to evacuate. In theory, at least. There being no signs of smoke or sense of excitement from the hotel staff, a fair number of people in the lobby and pool courtyard area just stayed put, and those of us who went out front as we were told did so without any great sense of urgency. While milling around outside, I heard one person make a crack that the alarm had probably gone off because someone had wanted to get a really good deal at the art auction. I also overheard, on the way back in, from a couple of hotel staff, that it may have just been steam or a little smoke from a hot plate in the con suite that set off an overly sensitive smoke alarm. Oh, the terrible price of cheap eats. And speaking of terrible, after resuming my seat in the lobby, a family of non-con-goers sat down nearby (overly showy new rich, from the looks of them), and I had to spend the next 10 or 15 minutes hearing the mother and teenaged son quietly make fun of the nerds passing by. Riiiiiight. Like anyone mashing miniature dogs under their arms like footballs as a form of fashion accessory, the way these two were, has any right to make fun of someone else's appearance. Stay classy.

Not liking the smell of the bullshit near me, I went upstairs a bit early for the "Unintended Consequences" panel. Lots of good examples from the panel about scientific advancements, technologies and drugs that had wide-reaching and unintended consequences, such as cars, cell phones, and birth control pills. But there were also a number that were mentioned that have also had unforeseen ramifications that most people don't think about, like genetic testing, the introduction of tea into the Western diet, food and water safety measures, different forms of lighting, and even universal education. Another well-attended session, and one that made a thoughtful end of the con for me. Because after that, I decided I'd had my fill, and skipped the closing ceremonies and went home.

My only regret: I never did get the chance to sit in that replica of the Time Machine. Maybe I could have travelled back in time and prevented the fire alarm from going off, or gone back further and snagged that artichoke pot back when it was newly-made in some provincial town in Gaul... Nah. I probably would have just wound the clock back a day or two and bought more books. And who knows what sort of unintended consequences that would have had!

Sunday, October 04, 2015

VCon Day 2 - Wake up! Time to buy!

When you allow yourself to drift into the dealers' room at a con not once, not twice, but three times, there's no way you're going to leave financially unscathed. Today, I was scathed. Oh so scathed.

The day started a little later than I'd intended. No surprise there — that's the story of my con-going life. I'd wanted to arrive around 10 this morning, because VCon's programming looked pretty good right off the block this year. But with last night's blogging, followed by reading, and a leisurely get-up this morning, 10 turned into 11:30 by the time I rolled in the door. That was the first time the dealers' room got me.

Oh, it started off innocently enough... I'd gone in to drop-off a care package: my wife makes chocolates and other confections, and she'd sent me with some treats to give to our friend Walter at the White Dwarf Books table. Which was fine. Except the coolness emanating from the Cat's Knitting table dragged me over like tractor beam from a Dalek command ship: there was a set of cool Doctor Who-themed scarves that I knew my wife would love. With our tenth anniversary coming up, the outcome was a forgone conclusion. So the wallet came out, and I bought her a black scarf with red trim, a red Dalek, and the word "Exterminate" woven into the pattern. Deadly stylish.

At noon I hit my first session of the day. Sessions, as a matter of fact. I started by trying to go to the "Science of Time Travel" panel, but the room was packed, some video was playing (for quite some time), and my space along the wall didn't allow me to see the screen, so I abandoned ship in favour of something else. The next option was the Joe Haldeman reading. Definitely worth going to. Haldeman read an excerpt from a new book he's working on called Phobos Means Fear, and showed the audience the notebook he's using to write the thing out. Bonus points to him for still doing most of his manuscripts in pen. Extra bonus points for his wicked sense of humour — Haldeman frequently had the audience in stitches during the Q&A afterward.

Heading out into the hall when it was done, it struck me that VCon feels smaller this year. Not as many people as you'd normally see on a Saturday, and not as many in costume. I can't back this up with numbers, but that was my impression. Not sure why it would be smaller this year (if it is) but while it wasn't crowded, the turnout at least looked respectable. And while there weren't as many costumes as I'm used to seeing, there were a few, and some of them were pretty good. I got a kick out of seeing someone dressed as Ratchet, the Autobot medic from Transformers. It could only have been better of it was capable of transforming, but that's a pretty tall order. Later on, just before I left this evening, there was a couple sporting intricately made Time Lord robes. I'm not a cosplayer myself, but I certainly respect good workmanship and people who have a real passion for their outfits.

And speaking of a dedication to fannish pursuits, I've got to give credit to a couple of folks in the games room, who wanted to get a group game of Magic The Gathering going so badly that they came out into the hall to try to recruit people to come in and play. One of the guys approached me, but since I haven't played Magic since university 20-odd years ago, and back then I played it poorly, I had to politely decline. But I certainly appreciated the invite. That's one of the things I like about VCon: it's not the biggest convention in the world, but most of the people who go are friendly and welcoming.

After a quick lunch, I was back at the hotel to take in the taping of an episode of the Caustic Soda podcast. What? You're not listening to Caustic Soda? Go and download an episode now. Seriously. Minimize this window, go to the show's website or iTunes, download an episode on whatever uncomfortable topic seems most interesting, and hang on for the ride. This time around was a little different, with only one of the regular hosts present, supported by a panel of guests, but ultimately the show worked, and was a good mix of information and entertainment delightfully skirting bad taste.

The show ran just over an hour, so when it was done, rather than jump into another session midway through, I drifted back into the dealer's room. Do I need any more books to add to my to-be-read pile? No. Did I buy some. Yes. Because I have no power to resist a good bookstore/stall.  So I picked up an anthology of Canadian speculative fiction (a book with the highly inventive name Canadian Tales Volume IV) from the SF Canada stall, and then, from White Dwarf, a copy of Haldeman's A Separate War and Other Stories and the Chinese-themed anthology The Dragon and the Stars, edited by Derwin Mak and Eric Choi. It wasn't too long before I was then browsing at antiquities and replicas of antiquities at the Gaukler Medieval Wares stand, and doing my best to fight the temptation to buy something there. Because as much as I may want an authentic Viking-era ice skate carved from some animal's thigh bone, it would be hard to make the case that I actually need to have it... although part of me thinks that I do actually need to have it (though ultimately my wallet won-out on behalf of the "no" side of the debate). It was a long battle too — I was probably there for the better part of half an hour, shooting the breeze with the owner about various historical knick-knacks. But I held firm. For a while, anyway.

To wrench my attention away from the lure of shiny things, I did a circuit of the art room. As usual, it was a mix of very nice work alongside stuff that, well, just isn't what I'd put on my wall or in my display case. But to each his/her own.

By 5pm it was time for the "Justify the Science Flaw" panel, an annual tradition at the con, and a session that's become one of my favourites over the years. This year's panel was made of a large and diverse collection of experts, and it was pretty funny seeing them stretch science to its limits to try to plausibly explain things like the salt vampires from the old Star Trek series, or how the nightfall in the classic Isaac Asimov short story "Nightfall" could actually work if you juggled the orbit of a planet, its gaggle of local stars, and maybe a moon or other planet just right.

I'd been doing some thinking about what I'd seen in the dealers' room, so after the JTSF panel let out I went back to the Gaukler table. As I mentioned earlier, my anniversary's coming up, and I thought I needed to get my wife a little something more than a scarf. She's been mentioning lately that she'd like a nice pendant, and I saw a really nice brooch with nine amethysts (a replica of an actual piece from the Anglo-Saxon period in Britain) that could easily be repurposed with the addition of a chain. The price was right, so I completed my anniversary shopping. From the rib-crushing hug I received when I got home, I think it did the trick.

Initially, I'd intended to hang around for the Masquerade at 7pm, but after waiting around in the hall with half of the other con attendees for 20 minutes with still no sign of it getting under way, I gave up and left to find some supper and go home. Sure, I could have stuck around for a while longer for the costume show, or gone to a room party, or had dinner and come back for a late panel (the late evening "Sophisticated Insults for More Dignified Folk" session looked particularly appealing), but I'll freely admit I'm at that point in life where something's gotta be pretty spectacular to keep me around in the evening, when really, all I want to do is go home, see my wife, have supper, relax for a little bit, then do some blogging or reading before hitting the sack. Let the others hold up the party banner. I've been there, done that, and got the t-shirt. Speaking of bed...

Saturday, October 03, 2015

VCon Day 1 - Here for a Good Time, Not a Long Time

It seems like almost no time at all has passed since we were down in Smokane this summer for Worldcon, and already October's upon us, a chill is in the air, Thanksgiving is coming up, and it's time for VCon.

Time is very much on my mind at the con this time around: there was the rush to get away from work on time today (especially since it was the last day of my contract and I wanted to wrap up as much as possible), trying to make good time in rush-hour traffic (which, luckily, I did), getting to VCon in time to actually take in some programming before the end of the day, making time for other outside-of-nerdity life this weekend, and, beyond all that, there's the theme of the con this year, which is Time Travel. Fortunately, even without a time machine at my disposal (although, as you can see from this photo from the dealers' room, someone at the con certainly has one at their disposal - and a flashy one at that!), it all seemed to work out. So far.

Against all odds, I made it from Downtown Vancouver to central Richmond to the con hotel in just under an hour (Been to the Lower Mainland before? Then you know the traffic hell of which I speak.) and was able to find a pretty good parking spot. Registration was friendly and reasonably fast, and I was pretty impressed with the con's programming schedule. In recent years, the programming's been hit-and-miss, but this year, even though it feels like there are fewer sessions on the schedule (and that's just a guess — I don't have last year's schedule for comparison and can't be bothered to hunt it down), overall a lot more of the panels look a lot more interesting than they have in a while. In fact, I'll even go so far as to say that hour-for-hour, the programming for modest little VCon this year looks more interesting than the average day at Worldcon this summer.

Next, I wandered around a bit to get my bearings. VCon's been at the Sheraton in Richmond many times before, but it's always good to do a refresher tour to see if they've located things in different rooms this year, and to see who's turned out. I had a nice chat with the folks at The 13th Colony BSG fan club table because I just can't resist stopping to check out a Cylon centurion mask. After that, I scouted-out the dealers' room, stopping to chat with my friend Walter at the White Dwarf Books table, as well as the folks at the Edge Publishing table (not much to buy from them this time around because they took all my money at Worldcon when I proved incapable of ignoring their collection of new anthologies). I also had to stop at a table selling knitted goods (she sold me a replica Tom Baker scarf a couple of years ago) to check out her new line of Doctor Who-themed scarves because my anniversary is coming up, and my wife loves the Time Lord something fierce. No buying though — not yet, because this time I was determined to stick to my no-buying-in-the-dealers'-room-on-the-first-day policy. Tomorrow though...

From there, I took in the Science of Fantastical Beasts panel. Think a "justify the science flaws" session focussing just on critters of myth, legend, and the fantasy genre, with a panel of scientists grasping at genetic straws to explain how these things could possibly exist and function in the absence of magic. Examples included the "vegetable lamb" of Hebrew mythology (think of a lamb that buds off of a tree, with blood tasting of honey, and flesh tasting of fish) that would probably be some kind of semi-ambulatory coral; and the King of Monsters, Godzilla himself: maybe akin to a sponge... a titanic colony of organisms, rather than a single creature. Yes, yes. I know. "Heresy!" you're no doubt hollering. "Godzilla is a force of nature beyond our ability to fully comprehend!" But maybe the big guy's a little like a bath product too. Anyway, lots of fun at this panel, and I was really glad to have caught it — especially since that was the only panel I had time for today.

After that, I sat down to interview author Kristi Charish for a little while. What's the interview for? Stay tuned, fellow fanboys and fangirls. Stay tuned. Suffice it to say that she's a great conversationalist and we had a pretty entertaining and informative discussion. If you haven't read her stuff yet, you probably should. Owl and the Japanese Circus has been getting a lot of good buzz, and I'm a huge fan of her "Canadian Blood Diamonds" supervillain short stories (the first can be found in Masked Mosaic: Canadian Super Stories, edited by Claude Lalumiere and Camille Alexa). All in all, a good way to end a first day (even if this "day" was only 2-and-a-half hours of con time for me) at VCon.

Monday, August 24, 2015

Photos from Sasquan

Fleeing from the Cylon tyranny — oh no, wait... that's the original Battlestar Galactica. Let's try this again:

Fleeing from the brutal wildfire haze that has resumed smothering Spokane like a facehugger from the Alien franchise, we hopped in the car around mid-morning today and raced back along the beautiful (and yet, shrouded in smoke, haunting) Route 2 across the plains, and through the mountains, back to the coast to head north and home to BC.

While I've been posting a few photos from Sasquan/Worldcon to my Twitter feed on the fly over the past few days, this is the first opportunity I've had to upload all of them to the blog. Included here are the pics from Twitter, along with some that have not yet been posted.

Fighters at First Night in the park
The couple that cosplays together succumbs to Alien infestation together
Guess who I voted for in the Worldcon 2017 site selection?

Black Widow
Captain America

One tough customer at the coffee bar
Bounty hunters. We DO need their scum!

Dr Bunsen Honeydew and his assistant Beaker. Sort of.

The last days of Krypton... er, a smoky evening in Spokane

This is how bad the air got by Friday night when the Masquerade let out
Where can I get a hat like that?
This guy's Captain Kangaroo cosplay could only have been better if he'd had Mr Greenjeans with him

All hail Immorten Joanna!

A pint-sized TARDIS, complete with mini Doctor

Miyazaki fans will know you don't want to feed this guy. You REALLY don't want to feed this guy!


We are Groot

Sunday, August 23, 2015

Getting Conned South of the Border - Sasquan Day 5

So, this is the end.

...of Sasquan, I mean. Not the universe or anything really important, like chocolate production, otherwise you wouldn't be reading this silly little post, and I wouldn't be writing it. I'd probably be clutching my last Crispy Crunch bar and weeping unconsollably in a corner or something. But anyway...

Today marked the end of Sasquan (though there are probably more than a few people still stumbling around at Dead Dog parties celebrating their achievement and trying to avoid thinking about all the cleanup that will need to be done tomorrow), as well as the end of the mostly clear air (the wildfire haze returned today with brutal determination). Despite most of a day's worth of programming, the convention centre halls were quieter and easier to navigate, and the hotel lobbies were not. There was that gently aching muscles sense filling the air that always comes on the last day of a con or after reorganizing one's bookshelves, and while some attendees were as eager as ever, many of us were just kind of going through the motions... getting in one last session or a final buy in the dealers' room just to say we'd got our money's worth out of a full con membership by attending every single day, even on a day when (no offence to the organizers or panelists, because this is true at many cons) there isn't much of a draw. It's the kind of day where you'd rather be starting the drive home, or sitting at home and inspecting your haul of con treasures, or sleeping in late and enjoying a slow brunch somewhere in the host city that doesn't rip off the tourists with inflated prices and small portions. But you show up to what's left of the con anyway. For a while anyway. And we did.

It was probably a little after 11 when we rolled in. My wife had nothing on her schedule, and while I'd scheduled a couple of panels on principle, nothing really mattered. We ambled in to the dealers' room to see if there were any previously unseen treasures or last-minute deals to be had, and there weren't. Not really. I went back to the used book stall that'd had the collection of Winston sci-fi novels for kids to see if the owner was prepared to be flexible on his pricing of Wollheim's The Secret of Saturn's Rings. When I pulled it off the shelf and asked what the price was, he automatically flipped to an inside page and pointed at the $100 marked there. A hundred bucks (American!) was greedy at the top of the week, and it was still greedy today (I bought The Secret of the Martian Moons a couple of months ago in reasonable condition for around $30 Canadian, so I'm not coming out of left field here). Preparing to haggle, I asked the guy if he would be able to knock the price down at all, and he said he could do $90. Still waaaaaaaaay too much. For 90, he'd have to give me 'Saturn's Rings AND Poul Anderson's Vault of the Ages (which he'd valued at $95), and I could see he wasn't going to do that. I pointed out that I could get Winston books a lot cheaper back home, to which he politely replied "Then you can." I can tell a pleasant "fuck off" when I hear one, and also that he had no intention of negotiating, and, it's his business, so that's his right. So I said "Okay." and walked away, and joined my wife in the artists' area where she was buying a pendant. Later, shortly after 2 o'clock, when there was less than an hour until the dealers' room closed for good, and many dealers were already packing up, my wife and I were back in the merch hall on our way back to the hotel, and I saw that particular used book dealer standing in the aisle, and decided to give him one last try. I asked if he'd consider selling 'Saturn's Rings for $50, but he said he couldn't. Fair enough. His business, his right. One thing he didn't seem to grasp though: in 5 days of Worldcon, one of the biggest gatherings of sci-fi book-loving nerds around, he hadn't sold that book. In fact, at a quick glance, it didn't appear that he had sold any of the Winston books (or at least not more than a couple). That would indicate pretty clearly that his prices are way out of whack with what the market's prepared to pay. That's the point where a dealer in collectibles has to decide whether to re-assess his prices and have the opportunity to make a sale and take some more cash home, or whether to stick to his overvaluation, go to the effort of packing up the unsold goods, pay for the gas to drive said unsold goods back to his store or storage locker or basement, and then have said unsold goods remain unsold for potentially several years as the market continues to refuse to pay his unrealistic price. You may claim that other dealers have books like these listed for high prices, but have they sold? Have they sold when other dealers are offering them for less? And again: 5 days of hundreds (if not thousands) of geeks passing by his stall didn't result in a sale at the $100 he wanted. Not great for business. So I walked away for the last time, spent a fraction of that money at a publisher's table that was having a sale on translated Japanese science fiction (I bought Mitsuse's 10 Billion Days & 100 Billion Nights and Sakurazaka's All You Need Is Kill), and the dealer ended up taking his unsold stock back to... wherever.

After the first failed attempt to buy the book, and not being particularly interested in any of the panels at the time, we headed out for brunch (appropriately enough, in keeping with the week's sf theme, to a little diner called "The Satellite"). Back to the con afterwards, and while my wife took in a kaffee klatsch featuring a linguist, I went to The Great Debate. TGD was a fake political debate, where those of us in the audience were decribed as a council of oligarchs of the Empire of Inlandia, gathered to select an archon from among the panelists to lead us to wealth and conquering glory. On the panel, Brandon Sanderson took on the persona of The Great Ruler, an exiled immortal space despot come to Earth to restart his career (played in deliciously over-the-top style — think Emperor Cartagia in Babylon 5 mixed with Skeletor in the Masters of the Universe live action movie); Patricia Briggs was an immortal werewolf demanding worshipers — and food; and James C Glass was, well, a sex-obsessed starlet wanting to turn the world into a love-in commune. After much debate, derision, and promises of destruction, along with an audience Q&A, the assemblage of oligarchs voted in favour of the werewolf (proably because the Great Ruler promised to eliminate half of us right off the bat, and, for my part, because he vowed to make war upon Canadia and turn our hockey players into his toothless janissaries). Lots of fun, and I'll give all of the panelists credit for their performances.

When that was done, we were done. Sure, there was another hour of programming before the Closing Ceremonies, but none of those panels interested us, and neither did the Closing remarks. Better to go back to the hotel, relax in the pool for a while (now pleasantly empty with so many con attendees gone or holding on with grim determination to see the thing through to its ultimate end at the Closing Ceremonies), inspect our haul of merchandise, and talk about the week's entertainment and plans for tomorrow's drive home. So we did. We finished the day with supper with some friends, and packed.

While Sasquan has generally been fun, I'm eager for home.

Getting Conned South of the Border - Worldcon Day 4

What a day! So many developments, starting with...

...the sky! The air wasn't dangerous today!

We were up fairly late this morning, but when we did eventually leave the hotel, we were pleasantly surprised to see that we could actually see — the sky was blue. To be sure, there was still a little haze in the air; we could taste it and smell it, but it wasn't like a block of concrete being rammed down my throat into my chest like the death cloud last night. I felt like King Roland at the end of Spaceballs waking up and proclaiming: "I can breathe. Air! AAAAAAIIIIIRRRRRRRR!!!" Except I didn't have his highly funkified robes.

By the time we'd crossed the bridge to the convention centre, it was 11, and we decided to see the state of the line that was probably forming-up for the 2 o'clock George RR Martin signing. Unlike last year's debacle, this year Martin's team had laid-out their ground rules early, so everyone knew there was going to be a cap on the number of people who were going to be able to get autographs 400), so it was a given that some would probably start queueing-up even before the line officially started at 11:30. When we made a pass of the area, there were about 70 people already patiently waiting. We could have easily joined the line and spent the next three hours hanging around. But after some thought, I decided it wasn't worth while. Would it be nice to get his signature on a couple of books (one each was the rule)? Yes. Was it worth hanging around in the same place for three hours for a non-personalized scribble when I could be going to several other panels and signings, and, you know, having lunch (most importantly, having lunch from somewhere other than the convention centre's tuck shops with their extortion-level pricing)? No. So we left the line and went on to other things.

Other things for me turned out to be browsing in the dealers' room for a while. Nothing really grabbed me, so no buys today (although my wife acquired a very pretty hair pin while engaged in her own adventures). So I ducked out for lunch.

Coming back around 1:30, I checked-in with the Martin line: still quite large, but nowhere near as big as I'd expected. In fact, I talked with the con volunteer in charge of running the line, and he said if I queued-up, I'd be #170. Pretty good for a late walk-in, but I still had other things I wanted to do instead of waiting around for 30 minutes or more for the signing to start, and then more time for the line to move. So I left.

...And got in line for an autograph from Brandon Sanderson (I'd hauled my copy of A Memory of Light down from Vancouver to get it signed). The con organizers probably should have put Sanderson's signing in a dedicated room, rather than the usual open signing area in the hall housing the dealers' room, because the line got very big very fast. While we were all waiting, a couple of guys came around with a video camera recording messages from con attendees to send to the con's astronaut guest of honour, Dr. Kjell Lindgren, up on the ISS. For my part, I thanked him for advancing the cause of science, and wished him a safe voyage home. The other thing that came up in line was a really annoying incident where a couple of guys came up to me and the others around me, asked us what the line was for, and then casually slipped in — jumping the queue — behind me, and no-one called them on it. It wasn't for me to start any shit because their butt-in didn't affect me directly, but it was still out of line (bad pun intended). Worse, one of them, a young guy, started complaining about some videogame panel he'd just been to, and how he didn't like the panelists talking about the need for diversity and inclusivity in gaming, especially around the involvement of women. He claimed (to his buddy and co-queue-jumper, who otherwise seemed okay) that he worked in a videogame store, and never saw any women come in, so girls obviously don't play videogames and they shouldn't be included. This pissed me off because I know plenty of women who play videogames, and they should be encouraged to participate, and with all the bullshit that's gone on over the past year or two, this is an issue that absolutely needs to be discussed by a panel at Worldcon. Maybe this punk never sees any girls come into his store, because they're deliberately avoiding him. Maybe there are other stories with better selection and more knowledgable and helpful staff who aren't total jackasses. Luckily the line started moving again, and the guy in front of me (who was a good guy) started chatting, so I didn't have to listen to any more of the punk's crap. And the line did proceed at a good pace. Sanderson seems like a nice guy, and took time to chat with everybody, answering questions and doing personalized messages.

By the time I was done, my wife had finished with a panel she was attending, and we decided to try our luck again with Martin. Today, Lady Luck paid off. When we got to Martin's big signing room, there were still plenty of spots left before the cap (somebody later told me only 300 or so had bothered to come), so we got in and lined-up. Because he was only initialling, the line moved very quickly and we were out in less than 10 minutes. Perfect timing too, because it was coming up on 3 (a time deadline on top of the number cap), and they more-or-less closed the door behind us.

From there, it was on to another signing for me: Robert Silverberg, and that was another long line. However, as Silverberg was only signing his name (no personalized messages, and no chit-chat with the fans — though he did show some mild, non-verbal curiosity when I handed him my old Norton Book of Science Fiction to be signed, taking a few seconds to examine the name on the spine), the line moved fairly quickly, and I was out in about half an hour. Luckily there were no jackasses in this line, just good people and some entertaining conversation.

At that point, I was officially free! I'd obtained all of the autographs I'd come to get for myself, as well as a couple for my friend Sarah who wasn't able to make it. It wouldn't be long before I could dump my backpack full of books back at the hotel room and not have to carry any more. My back was practically weeping in relief.

While in line for Silverberg, I heard some good news: Helsinki had won the 2017 Worldcon! Apparently they'd announced it last night, not too long after my wife and I had left for dinner befoer the Masquerade. One of the guys in line said he'd talked to a few people, and apparently Helsinki had won by a landslide. DC had reportedly come in second, but it was a distant second. As I've said before, the Fins have campained really hard and shown a lot of heart, so they deserve this. Unless I fall into an unexpected jackpot, I won't be going, but I'm glad they won the Worldcon bid.

When that was done, I went to the Demigods and Chosen Ones panel. I can't say I agreed with everything said by the panel, but I would agree writing different kinds of stories with different approaches to heroism and protagonists is a good thing.

When that was over, my wife came in and convinced me to stick around for the panel discussion about Peter Capaldi's Doctor Who. Unfortunately, that discussion wasn't terribly interesting to either of us, so we agreed to slip out for an early supper at a fried chicken/bbq/soul food joint a few blocks away (and Chick-N-Mo was a good choice, by the way).

Then it was back to the hotel to dump our bags and change before heading back to the convention centre theatre for the Hugo Awards ceremony. The highlights for me were the Dalek guest presenter, Silverberg's Hari Krishna benediction, and 5 of the Hugo categories getting No Award as the voters told the puppies in no uncertain terms that their agenda wasn't going to be tolerated. Now, of course, the question is what's going to happen moving forward? Will the Hugos go back to normal, or are they broken, as some fear, and, if so, what do we do about it? Not too long ago, Kelly Robson wrote an article wherein she came up with an interesting solution: maybe it's time to hire a professional mediator to help sort this mess out. I'm not sure how workable that would be, but I don't have a better solution myself, so I'd back the idea if things get worse. Let's hope they don't.

Now for the last, slow, wrap-up day of Worldcon before the long trip home. Stay tuned for tomorrow's update.