Since it's November, I'll be at the con in New York, possibly with a tin cup, begging. This will be your chance to toss me some cash and make me feel welcome.
Or, seriously, if you're going to be there, come by, say hi. I think I'll be doing a reading, but otherwise I've not bothered with trying to get onto any panels, since I figure my vast and impressive anonymity will ensure that I can tour round in the background of the whole event, meeting the few friends I got who will be there, and just chilling. Generally speaking, I kind of don't dig conventions: I'm an anti-social sort, really, and three or four days of strangers jammed around me tends to give me the shits; but people have been hassling me to get out and head into the Americas for a while, and I've a bit of cash at the moment, so it's the plan. Likely I'll do the convention once, and then be some kind of reclusive in two countries. Though, really, I fail to see how I can be that reclusive with my online presence here. Just cause I can't stand you all in the flesh don't mean I don't dislike you...
Wait, is that what I want to be saying?
Don't. Dislike. Well, whatever. I'll be in the Americas. Come say hi. Bring a chair to carry me upon.
In other news, here is Ben Payne (benpayne) with my book:
Every now and then, people confuse me for Ben Payne (and vice versa). When he was an editor for Potato Monkey people would cite me as the editor. When he edited Aurealis, I got questions about submissions. When he ran the Aurealis Awards, I got thanked for a good job. I always liked telling Payne about these. It made me feel as if I was doing a good job. It was very easy being a likable editor and publisher, I decided.
For his part, Payne would just send me photos from inside hospital wards. It was hard being an author, it seemed.