All this genre chat reminds me that the annual SF get-together known as Eastercon is almost upon us. I say this every year, but I adore Eastercon. Four days in a hotel with good friends talking about all the things we love. How could I not? This year’s event, being at Heathrow, has already sold out, so it should be a lively one. The provisional programme is jam packed with interesting stuff and, this year, continuing my personal campaign of re-engagement (code named: Operation Don’t Let Neil Spend Four Days In The Same Fucking Corner Of The Bar) I’m planning to get off my bum and go and see a few things.
Definite highlights include a couple of book launches. I’m looking forward to Ian Sales’s Rocket Science anthology very much. Mutation Press did a great job on Music For Another World, and this second outing should be a belter. Perhaps even more so, though, I’m looking forward to Newcon Press’s Dark Currents. This was the anthology that my story, Lost Sheep, was written for but, that aside, it also includes a really stellar lineup of authors that aren’t to be missed. I think most of the contributors will be at the launch, so if you’re at the con around Friday tea-time come and grab a copy, maybe even get it personalised. I promise not to write anything rude (unless you want me to).
Mostly, though, the con will be about the people. Going to be missing out on a few of my favourite faces this year, but they’ve all got good excuses for non-attendance this time round. Not to worry, it’s an opportunity to meet new faces. You’ll recognise me easily enough: I’ll (mostly) be in the bar and I’ll have a badge with my name on it.
So who’s going?
4 thoughts on “Show of hands: Eastercon”
I’ll be there. I’m doing a panel, a reading and a signing session this year. But between times, I’ll mostly be in the bar.
Snap, Gareth. The bar bit, I mean. Not doing any panels or readings this time (not unless anyone heard about my performance at Fantasycon and needs a cure for insomnia…). So it’ll be the bar for me, I’m looking forward to the chat.
I can’t make it this year, alas.
Not so good, Jack. Not so good at all!