Good times this past weekend were had in the airport shanty known as Seatac (named, presumably, because it’s midway between Seattle and Tacoma, though there’s a town called Midway in there too, so…). Norwescon ran smooth as silk and parking was a breeze this year with a secondary lot and shuttle system that was the best addition of all.

I sat on a number of panels with old friends and people I hadn’t met but will certainly seek out in the future, among them Brenda Cooper, Josh Palmatier, Gordon Van Gelder, Eric Morgret and Lorelei Shannon (I totally want to be taken under her horror watching wing). She brought a list of French Horror films and a special brand of snarky review, that I totally dug and was more than a bit jealous of. I might have to bust out a Netflix membership for quite a few.

Richelle and I did a Twilight panel with Mickey Pheonix, who is a wildly enthusiastic moderator and sparkles without the aid of undeadness. I read three selections during my allotted reading time and was only sad that I couldn’t make out with everyone that showed up–to be polite. First, Amanda’s totally inappropriate sex scene from Road Trip, which, if you can believe it, made me blush like I’d rouged up for a night of back alley hooking. It wasn’t the content, it was the dialogue. Scott’s voice (he’s quickly becoming a favorite character of mine) came out really filthy. I hadn’t read the scene before, so I didn’t know how I’d inflect it, but he was as lascivious as I’d first written him. I read a couple of scenes from Dark Rites of Joe Barkley (my perennially pushed aside baby of a manuscript), which made me want to jump back into that world. Much like the French horror Le Bois Frotté de la nuit (Dark Driftwood) makes me want to claw into my own gut.

Lisa Mantchev was on hand to make everyone “Taste Her Bad Candy.” She’s a naughty girl and her minions are mighty and t-shirted. Here she is with Richelle and I at her first signing type thingie…

You’re all going to have to pick up Lisa’s debut, Eyes Like Stars, when it hits stores! Didn’t party all that much, but did hang out with Team Seattle folks and affiliates, including the newly minted Mark Teppo, author of Lightbreaker (I know what you’re thinking, 2 Marks? And I know, we’ll probably revert to surnames and don’t get me started on the 3rd Mark that’s been bandied around as a newbie). Tiffany Trent was on hand (shouting her new favorite word to all those who’d listen) as were Rosemary Clement-Moore, Ken Scholes and Jeremy Lassen (pub of Nightshade books and my one degree of separation from favorite UF author, Liz Williams). Got to meet some fans, some I knew from online stuff (porn) and others were new to me and sprayed with my love (I’m talking about saliva you perverts).  Last thing I did was attend Richelle’s reading from her forthcoming succubus book which was totally funny and had the crowd belly shakin’.

I didn’t have my camera the first day, which explains the sad imagery in this post. I know, I’m pathetic. My swag was even lame–postcards. I should be flogged (even more than I do to myself on a regular basis).  

But wait! I made up for it after Easter Brunch (where I partook of a Body of Christ omelette that was in a word, holy). Caroline and I got home way earlier than expected and she whipped out the camera for a red hot camera session before I slipped back into my writing wardrobe (dirty tee, shorts, flip flops, fucked-up hair). The result is a selection of possible author photos.

Now, I know! I know! You already voted, but that–kind and gentle readers who’d never do anything but pet my arm hair and certainly wouldn’t beat me with my own books, or what have you–was a photo for the Las Vegas newspaper. This one is for the cover. So here we go again…

Should I go wacky humorist?  And if so which one?

Or i r srs awfur?  Then, same question…

I suppose the bigger question is, why can’t I make up my mind?  If we could narrow it down to 2, I’ll just send those off and let Kensington do what they like.  

Hmm?