February 24, 2014

GREAT BIG FAT HAIRY DROOLING WE-INTERRUPT-OUR-REGULARLY-SCHEDULED-PROGRAMME-TO-BRING-YOU-THIS-IMPORTANT-ANNOUNCEMENT NEWS

 

Tra la la la la la la . . .

I’m going to be Guest of Honor at Boskone next year.

Boskone, I hear some of you saying?  I think it’s one of the oldest and most regularly annual of the (American) SF&F conventions* but I’m afraid I don’t pay any more attention to the fan-run end of the book world than I do to the professional publisher end** so I could be wrong.  But it was my first big SF&F con, back when BEAUTY was new, and I was living next door in Boston.  I attended sporadically for some years before I got kind of burnt out about the public-author thing generally*** but I’ve retained a soft spot for Boskone.

I had an email from next year’s chairperson about a fortnight ago inviting me to be next year’s GOH and I thought BOSKONE?  I WOULD LOVE TO BE GUEST OF HONOR AT BOSKONE . . . and have since been in agonies not so much of indecision but of trying to figure out what the frell I could do about the hellpack if I said yes.†  Pav isn’t a problem;  given the basic facts of bull terriers she’s, you know, normal.  The hellhounds, now. . . .

But a friend dropped round for a cup of tea this afternoon and in the process of trying to force said hellhounds to eat their lunch I found myself moaning to her about the situation.  She, having extracted the salient facts that (a) YES I WOULD LIKE TO BE GOH AT BOSKONE NEXT YEAR and (b) no I haven’t been anywhere in the last seven years because I have these bizarrely-constituted hellhounds†† . . . said, FOR PITY’S SAKE SAY YES.  GO.  GO.  You’ve got a year:  we’ll figure something out.†††

So I said yes.  ::Beams::

I asked the chair to let me know when they announced it so I could time it to go up more or less simultaneously on this blog.  That was about seven hours ago and she answered by return electron that they were going to be putting it up on NESFA’s web site by the end of the day and I could go ahead as soon as I liked.  I don’t think it’s up yet—although as I say Google does not love me—I’ll add a link when it does.

BUT HERE’S YOUR OPPORTUNITY.  SEE AND HEAR MCKINLEY LIVE IN PERSON.  Although you want to remember that I’ll be sixty-two by next February, so don’t expect much:  I’m old, wizened and EVEN CRANKIER THAN YOU REALIZE.  But I’ll be there.  Smiling in a dangerous manner.

BE THERE OR BE SQUARE.

* * *

* Here’s Wiki’s stub about it:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boskone  The New England Science Fiction Association has a web site but it’s kind of full of this year’s Boskone at the moment, which is only just over and also, I am stupid, and Google doesn’t love me.

** That sound you hear is Merrilee banging her head against a wall

*** That sound you hear is Merrilee banging her head against a wall harder

† I’ve spent a fair portion of the last fortnight making phone calls toward this end.

†† Remember that in my life this isn’t as appalling as it sounds.  I like staying home and hurtling and ringing bells and planting rose-bushes and so on.  But it would be nice to go back to America SOME TIME and not be a foreigner the minute I open my mouth^, and while day to day I don’t think about it, and year to year the idea of author touring is about as appealing as going into battle in your nightgown^^ . . . the invitation from Boskone made me fall over the edge immediately.

^ Except that I will be because while my accent hasn’t drifted east much my usage sure has

^^ Now I wonder why that image occurs to me

††† Peter said exactly the same thing, only faster.  And his kids will keep an eye on him in my absence.

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