I’m home. I got close to a full night’s sleep last night before waking up at my customary 5 a.m., and I just got up from a long afternoon nap. I still have a huge sleep deficit to make up, but my brain is beginning to function again.
I do not recommend ever skipping a night of sleep at a con, the way I did the penultimate night of WFC. (I meant to sleep come morning, but my Texan farmer brain wouldn’t let me.) I was punch-drunk by the next night, though, and even some decent sleep then (though not enough, because of my morning waking habit) couldn’t make up for it. On the flight home, the woman next to me asked where the con had been, and it took me a full five minutes, literally, to remember. Not a good thing. :-)
I did have fun, though. WFC has definitely become my favorite con.
12 Responses to “Safe and Slept”
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I'm a freelance copyeditor specializing in fantasy and science fiction. SF/F novels I have copyedited have been finalists for (and have sometimes won) the Hugo, Nebula, Arthur C. Clarke, Endeavour, Golden Spur, John W. Campbell Memorial, Quill, Locus, Philip K. Dick, British Science Fiction, British Fantasy, and World Fantasy awards. In 2007 I became the first and only copyeditor ever short-listed for a World Fantasy Award.
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What were you doing that penultimate night, that you didn’t sleep?
Nice to see you in person…
Heh. Intellectual stimulation. Fun, but nothing so fun as your mind’s imagining, E. :-D I went around to parties, had a discussion with Scott Bakker and agent Chris Lotts about whether video games will steal the market for non-highbrow SF/F (they both had interesting thoughts on this, though Scott seemed quite certain I’m not the typical person to have a level 45 orc shaman on WoW), and had a long and fascinating discussion with Graham Joyce about the sociolinguistic differences in British and American speech wherein I learned of the “game” of “taking the piss” and how it plays out across classes.
I tried to go to bed at 4 a.m., but just lay in bed awake for two hours before I gave up.
It was nice to see you, too, Jay!
I think it’s mine, too.
Sorry we didn’t run into one another. I thought I saw you at the banquet, but wasn’t sure–did you wear a silver-grey and black gown?
Yes, I did. I wish you’d said hi! I don’t know what you look like to recognize you.
I should’ve, but by the time the banquet rolled around, I was too tired to think straight. I didn’t have a hectic schedule, but I still felt wrung-out. Got home yesterday, and I’m still tired today.
But this will not be my last WFC, so someday…
Two words: power napping.
I’d love to hear more about the details of “taking the piss,” which I think I understand in a basic way, but no doubt there are more subtleties to be learned…
Well, apparently it’s mocking. However, among the working classes, it’s a form of positive politeness (the linguistic term used when I was in school–I think it may have changed since then) that is used to form bonds. You “take the piss” to someone by mocking them, and it’s like an invitation to mock them back. You try to see who bests the other, in a way, and it’s more of a joking around thing. The discussion was really very interesting, with my sociolinguistic background.
Right, I understand the basic way it works, and have even once in a while participated in the whole deal, as when I was staying briefly in a London boarding house and was baited in a friendly way by the construction workers staying there as we all dug into the very tasty breakfast of eggs, sausages, baked beans, fried tomatoes, etc. You say something obviously outrageous and see if the other person can deal with it. It’s a little bit like “the dozens,” but more free-form and imaginative. I’m interested in particular how it relates to class.
Well, what he said is that the higher classes, if you “take the piss” with them, tend to get offended, whereas the working classes see it as an opportunity to bond by engaging in the verbal play.
I really was fascinated by that; it’s incredibly useful information to know when dealing with someone from there.
Ah, OK, this makes sense.
I’m thinking of one of the exchanges at the boardinghouse breakfast table. One of the laborers asked me, in the most cheerful way, why America didn’t just shoot all black people. Now, it was obvious to me that he not only wasn’t seriously proposing this, but that he really didn’t harbor any such violently racist sentiments (well, who knows, maybe he did, but that wasn’t the game) and was purposely playing with me by saying what he thought would offend someone he had correctly sized up as a liberal sort. Instead of playing into his hands, I asked him if he owned any mining stock. This got a quizzical look. Because, I told him, you’d need a lead mine to make enough bullets to do that. This got a laugh from the whole bunch, who were eagerly watching the showdown, and the ice was broken.