So before we get too far from the convention, a few high (and low) points of San Diego 2010. Because otherwise, y'all will beat me with bricks in a dark alley somewhere, and I just don't have time for that.

This year, I was able to import Tara and Amy (webmistress and fiddler, respectively), and the three of us shared a room with Sunil (media madman) at the Gaslamp Marriott. Not only were we less than a five minute walk from the convention center, allowing us to easily drop things off in our room, but the hotel gave us free candy. Right there at the front desk, free candy. Amy and I decided that we were having the convention experience we would have designed for ourselves at age seven. Except for the drinking, this was probably true for the entire weekend.

Rebecca and Ryan were kind enough to pick me up from the airport; after they dropped me off, Amy and I went to get our badges while the car went back for Tara and Sunil (landing two hours later than I did). Hilarity and admission followed. Tara went off to hang with her friends, while Sunil, Amy, and I went to see an improv performance by Hammer Don't Hurt 'Em. They were decent, and the show was fun (especially since Amy got me a Long Island Iced Tea). The only real downside was Sunil accidentally ditching us while we were in the bathroom, but we went and met Rebecca and Ryan for Wendy's, so there was really no bad there.

Thursday was my first panel, The Power of Myth, which was a lot of fun, as was the signing which followed. I gave Amber Benson a copy of An Artificial Night, which she thanked me for, as now she would not be required to steal it. Tara, Amy, and I had lunch with Tanya Huff at the Cafe Diem, because the Cafe Diem is awesome. I also shopped. A lot. I enjoy shopping. I got a White Phoenix Jean Gray doll for my cover designer at Orbit, because I believe in bribery, yo. It was fun!

Thursday evening, Tanya, Tara, and I attended the Brilliance Audio author dinner, which I spent drinking Mai Tais, eating interesting things, and chatting with Phil and Kaja Foglio. My life, so hard.

Friday was my booth signing at Orbit, during which I signed a hundred copies of Feed. In the process, I drew ninety-nine tiny chainsaws, and one tiny Godzilla destroying a city. Again, my life, so hard. I had to miss the X-Men panel to do the signing (wah!), but I was able to attend the panel on James Gunn's Super (he needs to call me), which looks totally awesome. I had a second signing at the SFX booth later in the afternoon, and we gave away another fifty copies of Feed, one to the creator of Being Human. Totally awesome.

Friday evening, Tanya, Amy, and I attended the Penguin FangFest, which I spent drinking pineapple mojitos, eating cupcakes, and chatting with awesome authors. I finally met Charlaine Harris in the flesh, and it was hysterical. Exchange as follows:

Me: "Hi, it's great to finally meet you. I'm Seanan."
Charlaine: *politely blank look*
Me: *displays name tag*
Charlaine: "SHAWN-ANNE!"

*hugging*

I love having a weird name. After that, we went to the Boom! party, where I met Paul Cornell and his lovely wife, Caroline. Paul is one of my favorite humans, as he shares my love of the Black Death and giant flesh-eating lizards. I'm just saying.

Saturday was my second panel, The Rise of Zombie Fiction, which was a) mad fun, and b) reinforced my desire to write up a handbook for people doing panels at this sort of thing. Priscille from Books for Boobs came to the signing in a perfect Delirium costume, and I tried to eat her plush bear. Amy and I managed to catch the Warehouse 13 panel (Allison Scagliotti for Georgia Mason, anybody?), and then went off to dinner with John Grace at a very nice steak house. They served me port. MY LIFE, SO HARD.

Sunday, it was goodbyes and final shopping runs, and Tara and I had breakfast with Paul and Caroline before Amanda and Michael came to carry me away.

It was a good con. This writeup does not include hiding behind Anton, getting awesome swag and buttons from Rae, lots of hugging, accidental soda-based encounters, the dissolution of the Sacred Order of the Deli, ice cream, Gini Koch, late-night sammiches with Tanya, awesome dealer's room finds, free books, cheap books, expensive books, cookies, the art show, or repeat encounters with Felicia Day. But it does include a lot of awesome.

Also, if anyone came away from the con with a spare Sanctuary T-shirt, I am open to trades. Just saying.

Brooke, being Brooke, and hence attracted to anything that involves "science" and "spiders," provided me with a link to a full-sized piece of fabric made from spider silk. Because this was awesome, I promptly shared it with my friend Rae. The following conversation occurred:

raelee: That is a lot of spiders. But very purty silk.
seanan_mcguire: I will put them all in the bed of the next human who vexes me.
raelee: *eyes you* Duly noted.
seanan_mcguire: You rarely vex.
raelee: Still, sharing my bed with a million spiders, while extremely kinky, is not high on the list of activities I'd like to participate in before my death... especially since it has a high probability of leading to said death. Therefore, I'll take the proper precautions so as not to vex.
seanan_mcguire: It'd be like, LEGS LEGS LEGS LEGS LEGS LEGS LEGS *enrobe* *devour* LEGS.
raelee: Yeahhhh, I just freaked out reading that.
seanan_mcguire: ...oooops. Sorry.
raelee: s'ok, everyone needs to have a mini seizure at their desk occasionally.

There are days when I truly feel that being my friend ought to come with a hazard advisory of some sort. Or maybe just a little label that flashes after pictures of horrible things, like botflies and flesh-eating bacteria. "WARNING: Seanan is going to think this is cool, and probably want to discuss it with you. Please begin self-sedation now."

I was invented to make sure you stay fully alert and aware of your surroundings. Lest the million spiders in your bed catch you by surprise.

Hooray, hooray, the...um, well, the end of May. But we're celebrating the glorious end of a glorious month with something truly glorious beyond all measure:

The first officially published review of Rosemary and Rue!

Look at it. Isn't it preeeeeeetty? I just sort of want to cuddle it and love it and call it "George." Or maybe "Dave." Or maybe "to come over for drinks," although that could just be my inner Jane speaking. Big, big thanks to Rae for both reviewing the book, and for admitting to her biases right up front, thus making her a responsible reviewer who can be believed. Because nothing says "love" like being up-front about the things that could potentially

sway your hand.

(To be quite clear, I actually do trust Rae to be objective, because I've seen her savage things by creators she loves. She's like a cuddly wombat, totally harmless until she transforms herself into a WHIRLING BLENDER OF TOOTHY DEATH. I appear to have missed the "frappe" setting, and for this, I am truly glad.)

Book reviews. They, like milk, make a body glad.

The fabulous raelee decided that we needed a few more icons to fling around the place. Check out the shiny!

1. 2. 3. 4. 5.

All icons are totally free for use (naturally); remember that credit is a good thing to give to the icon-makers of the world, as it keeps them being awesome and iconic for the rest of us.

In other news, WHEE!

And now, the lovely raelee brings us proof that I have grown up to be a real author: a jack-o-lantern carved to recreate a scene from one of my books (specifically Newsflesh).



You know you're doing something right with your life when zombie pumpkins are being carved in your honor. I'm just saying.

Me: "We should really have some political icons."
Rae: "For what?"
Me: "The Ryman/Tate ticket."
Rae: "But what would they say?"
Me: *provides various campaign slogans*

*long pause while everyone else in the world realizes what's going on*

Rae: "Check your email."
Me: *makes noises only bats can hear*

In other news, behold my fantabulous new Ryman/Tate campaign icon! Because I support a future in which somebody else's dead aunt doesn't eat me as I'm trying to go to the store for another bottle of Diet Dr Pepper. Also because it makes me giggle.