It's taken a couple of days, but I feel like I've recuperated a bit from WorldCon. I definitely learned a few lessons.
Not the longest string of badge ribbons by a long shot, but a solid effort
I overscheduled myself like crazy. I was on two panels, took part in one workshop, and was the solo lead of a second workshop, and I volunteered for a total of about 12 hours. For some people, this would be a workable schedule; for me, it was on the verge of too much. I missed out on things and people that I would have loved to spend my time doing and meeting because I was simply drained. I need to guard my energy more carefully.
Having said that, I am capable of more than I think I am. I was able to be on a panel with Gail Carriger, and tell a room full (!) of people about the history of tomato ketchup off the cuff. I was able to lead a workshop on my own, teaching a full (!) room of people how to cross stitch and do blackwork embroidery, and get some of them excited about the crafts.
I taught under keen surveillance.
Seeing friends from the internet in 3D will never not be awesome. There were a number of members of the Lady Astronauts' Club who found each other and spending time with them off-screen was simultaneously super-exciting and incredibly soothing. There are few things I enjoy as much as being around my people.
Getting business cards printed (shout out to Moo was a random idea and, it turned out, a very good one. There were several times I was able to hand over a card and make connections on the spot, and it also gave me an easy way to point people here for links to the resources I put together for my panels and such.
Overall, now that I've had a couple of days to rest and think back on things, I'm glad I did as much as I did. I'm always more comfortable at a convention when I'm doing something, rather than just attending, and now I have "WorldCon panelist" as something to add to my list of achievements. That, I must admit, is pretty danged neat.
It's WorldCon day 3! I've somehow survived the first two days. If you all are coming here from the cards I gave away at my panel today (Friday), hello! Here is a link to the character generation project that I mentioned. As you can see, it's been a few years since I've done anything on it, but I'm hoping to pick it up again soon. If you have any suggestions on what games should be next, let me know!
WorldCon day two begins! I just finished my first-ever panel, so for those of you coming here from a card you received the, welcome! There's a link at the top of the page to the bibliography I mentioned, which you can also find here.
I'm back! I've updated on Royal Road both the novel (The Infinite Library) and I created a new page for short stories set in the same universe (Tales From the Infinite Library). As a teaser, here's a video of the short story I just put up on the page:
I hope to get back to updating regularly-ish, as the way the world burning and depressive episodes allow. Time to create some art and shine some light in the darkness as I can.
Happy Sunday! (Ignore that I say Saturday in the video - three day weekends throw me off.) I liked this bit of story, though I really need to work on my Southern accent. It probably would have helped if I had figured out exactly where Mariannick was from...
As for today's story, let me fill you in on a secret. There have been two days so far that I haven't written a new story, but on both of those days, I've used the device on the schedule and have the prompt I pulled written down. I just didn't have the spoons to write the story that day. Today, I went back to the prompt I pulled on May 22 from the Deck of Worlds, and came up with the beginnings of something.
Region - First Port
Attribute - rich in folklore
Landmark - Sanctuary Without Locks
Origin - created or given as a gift
Attributes - known for tea, unique system of timekeeping
Advent - a huge construction project is on the verge of collapse
The clock rang pure blue when the roof collapsed. We’d known it was coming, of course; anyone who had seen the cracks in the tiles knew that it was likely to go any day. It still came as a shock, of course, and we huddled together out of the field of debris, waiting for the dust to settle and for someone to tell us what to do.
“At least the store room is safe,” Marta said, her characteristic optimism strained in her voice. “We won’t have to worry about fulfilling the orders for the tea festival. It’s just the fellowship hall that’s been damaged.”
“Yes, just the place where we all come together in safety and community,” Joseph sneered. “Not anything important at all.” He pounded the end of his cane against the ground, making the rest of us jump at the sharp sound. “Why did this have to happen on our watch?”
“Joseph, it was only a matter of time,” I soothed, turning away from the rubble to face the old man. He’d been at the sanctuary for longer than any of the rest of us, and took any damage or faults to the buildings as personal failings. “That roof had been in place for what, twelve prisms? Thirteen? It was only able to hold up for so long. And Marta’s right, we’ll still be able to fulfill the tea festival orders, which means we’ll be able to put money aside to repair the damage.”
Joseph snorted and limped out of the doorway to the secondary hall where we had all huddled. “Believe what you want, I think it’s a sign,” he grumbled. “Twenty prisms this sanctuary has been standing, and nothing like this has happened before. Perhaps now it’s time to rethink whether we deserve to stand for another twenty prisms. Or even another two.” On that cheerful note, he made his way to the residence hall, carefully skirting the debris in the courtyard.
Leon sighed. “I feel like I should go after him, but he’s going to be impossible to talk to for shades now. I’ll try after dinner, around orange.” He squeezed my shoulder, and I felt a bit of my tension release. “Come on. We need to start working on cleaning all of this up. It’s going to take palettes to get everything, so we may as well start now.”
It was red-orange by the time we’d made a dent in cleaning the debris, but at least we’d made a path into the rest of the fellowship hall. I was afraid of going further into the building to see what the rest of the damage was, but I knew that it would be my responsibility to do so. I couldn’t let anyone into the hall until we had established if any part of it was safe, and as the current leader of the Sanctuary Without Locks, my job was to ensure the safety of everyone within our walls. “Let’s break for dinner,” I announced, then winced. Dinner frequently took place in the fellowship hall, which was obviously not available at the moment.
Marta saved the day, as usual. “It’s such a nice palette, why don’t we eat outside?” she asked, gesturing to the glowing air around us. The sun was starting to set, but the air remained warm and comfortable. “We can bring some of the big tables from the secondary hall out here, and the kitchen is far enough away from the collapse, we should be able to get in and out safely.” A murmur of agreement rose from the other residents, and I had to admit it was the kind of plan that would give us a comfortable break from the work. I nodded, then gestured for Leon and Marta to follow me.
“Before I send people into the kitchen, I want to make sure it’s safe,” I announced. “The rest of you can move some of the tables into the courtyard, and we’ll return with news about the kitchen.” I made my way around the fellowship hall, skirting the main doors and circling around to the back door which led to the kitchen.
We were very, very lucky - the part of the roof that had collapsed was near the front of the building, and the back of the building seemed to be sound. I gave the all-clear, and Marta summoned a couple of others to help her bring food out to the courtyard.
Joseph sat with us to eat, but he studiously ignored the remnants of the roof and refused to talk about the damage to anyone, even though that was the topic on everyone’s mind. I met Leon’s eye, and he could only give me a shrug. I sighed internally, trying to figure out what the best way to fix the roof and to fix my people.
Tea Festival orders fulfilled
Tea Festival happens, Sanctuary hosts fundraising dinner/formal tea service
Community comes together, first time Sanctuary is open to the general public
Happy Saturday! Today I'm doing some rankings on the two devices from the week, both products of the Story Engine - the Lore Master's Deck and the Deck of Worlds.
Both the Lore Master's Deck and the Deck of Worlds get 5s in both Shiny and Fun, as they are very well-made cards in well-designed card boxes that I can spend hours playing with. Lore Master gets a 4 in Complexity, while Deck of Worlds gets a 3 - the Deck of Worlds is focused on one area of writing, and is designed to create single micro settings, while the Lore Master's Deck is meant to cover a broad variety of topics in writing, and can go from a single cluster into a full web covering multiple aspects of the same story.
Speaking of story...today's story comes from the StoryADay website's prompt from May 23:
Prompt: When she picked up the knife, she discovered the blade was still sharp.
When she picked up the knife, she discovered the blade was still sharp. She nearly dropped it, the energy from the sharpening spell shocking her like static. It seemed like a waste of energy, casting sharpening spells on kitchen tools, but it was exactly the kind of thing her grandmother would do for her. It was the first time she was living on her own, and Abuela was always going to try to help her out.
She sighed, carefully reaching for the handle of the kitchen knife and putting it in the knife block she’d found in one of the other boxes. She swore she had packed everything herself, and her boxes hadn’t been out of her sight since she’d sealed them, but somehow, things were appearing that she didn’t remember putting there.
Leaving her familia behind in Baja California had been the hardest thing Josefa’d ever had to do, but she made herself believe it was worth it. She would be the first of the primos to go to college, to make something of herself besides just another worker who took the first job she could find that would pay the bills and live in the same house she’d grown up in. She wanted something better for herself, something bigger, and that had meant leaving the tiny room she’d shared with her little prima and make her way north to Seattle.
Josefa had worked with her teachers and gotten all the scholarships and jobs she could to live on her own. It was a studio apartment just off-campus, but it was all hers, and she would have no one else to answer to back home.
She opened her next box and sighed. Papá had had a hand in this one, she could see. She pulled out a miniature version of his favorite armchair and carefully set it on the floor, far away from the kitchenette space. As soon as the four feet touched the floor, it began to grow into its full size. Josefa seized the air around it, squeezing the shrinking spell to keep it from disintegrating completely, and managed to keep the chair from growing beyond two-thirds its normal size. The chair was far too big for the small space, but the shrunken version would work, and Josefa had to admit that she had always loved that chair. Her eyes welled up a bit, thinking of Papá sneaking the chair into her box and how big he must have been smiling while he thought of how he was getting on over on her. How could she get mad about that?
By the time she finished unpacking her boxes, she had everything she’d originally packed, plus the rest of the knives to fill out the block, an elaborate quilt from her other abuela, a fancy desk set complete with pen and ink from Tío Leonardo, and her youngest primo’s favorite stuffed dinosaur.
Josefa had planned to start a new life in this studio apartment, with a space that had nothing but new things for the person she wanted to be. Thanks to her family, she had reminders of the home that had made her the person she already was.
