It's been a while since I posted. Apologies to all concerned. It's largely been down to the scheduling of those pesky things which have deadlines getting in the way of more enjoyable things that don't. Such is life.

Last weekend I was in Dublin for the city's first Comic Convention (kudos to The 3rd Place et al for organising a great bash). On the Friday night I joined up with Dr.Who/Robin Hood/Wisdom writer Paul Cornell, his wife Carolyn and Millarworld Moderator Mark Peyton for our entry into the pre-weekend charity quiz. (See pic to the left, taken by James 'Goliath' Dodsworth) Team Wisdom (never was a title so obvious!) came in a respectable second place... and only after heated debate over whether Dangermouse's sidekick Penfold was a mole or a hamster (we said - correctly - he was a mole....these things are important to know and I left the venue feeling slightly intelligent. The full weekend event went well. It's been a while since I was in Dublin and though its more expensive than I remember, the locals are friendly and the city has a real unique character. Ultimates/Civil War's Mark Millar was on fine form too. Mr Cornell stepped delicately around what he could and could not say publicly about the forthcoming Dr. Who season and much alcohol was consumed with discussions about life, the universe and how to survive a zombie uprising. Again, these things are important to know and may prove useful in the future. Only bad moment was appalling attitude of the restaurant we graced with our colelctive 40+ presence on the Saturday night who asked us to wait outside for nearly forty minutes. However, the food was
good, so all is okay.

The rest of this past week has been a whirl of Impact and Verbatim deadlines, fighting off a cold and sore throat and sorting things out for various PR duties for pre-and-post Christmas... now mere weeks away. There are presents to be sent (more small token things this year as postage often costs more than the darned thing being sent!), bills to be paid (bah, humbug!) and irons to be put in the fire.


While I've been lucky enough to get to Biarritz and Dublin this year I haven't made it to the US - the first year that's happened in the last decade I think. Something simpy isn't right with the universe when I can't inflict my mother tongue on the colonials. However next year I hope to get to LA and elsewhere Stateside for some fun stuff. I hope to travel in the Spring and I'll be a guest at a con in Ohio around the middle of the year. Then there's the HLWW8 event that I'm eMCeeing in October in Vancouver. One way or another, it should be a fun year.

For those of you with whom I haven't been in touch, apologies (trust me I'd rather be spending time with you than the tax forms and pinheads of this world!) so drop me a line here or at the usual e-mail to make sure I've got your details correctly.


More to come...

Ever had one of those Days when you realise you aren't paranoid and they ARE out to get you and there's not a damned thing you can do about it. All you want to do is scream.



ARGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGH!!!!
Thank you. I now return you to your usual blog.

Saturday 27th May -
Saturday started early, but by the time I was 'up-and-at-'em' most of the chateau crowd were gone, away to catch flights or trains which would whisk them up to Paris or elsewhere. By 7:30am the only people left were myself, Kerry, Ellen and Alex. The decision was made to get down to the train station early - both to give Ellen a good start on her six-hour + road trip back north and in the hope that we train-travellers could possibly get an earlier train to avoid the repeated rushing around in Paris.

We missed the Wolcotts' train by about all of ten minutes and found that there was no way to get on earlier trains without paying vast sums of money. Alex's train was mid-morning, Kerry and I were on the same train as each other leaving about 2:30, though she was in First Class (see, the Karma Gods listen!) and I was in mere mortal class (see, the Karma Gods don't listen!). So I'd ultimately see Kerry for all of five minutes the whole trip. Still, a few solid minutes of sleep and some laptop viewing would make the trip travel faster.

To kill the time at Biarritz station Kerry and I had some food, ice-cream and light refreshment and tried to use the less-than-well-turned-out toilets as little as possible. I worked on my tan. I still looked British though I had a warmer hue. The train turned up on time and I dragged my luggage aboard. As mentioned he trip was largely uneventful, but I finished my Michael Connelly novel and rexolved to do more work on my own.

However at the other end there was another repeated rush. Kerry and in got a taxi from Montparnasse to Gare De Nord but with the Biarritz train coming in over ten minutes late, the pressure was on. As the very vailaint taxi-driver (who spoke excellent English) did his best, it seemed less and less likely I'd make it to the Eurostar terminal in time. I arrived outside GdN with literally five minutes to get across the station. It still seemed unlikely I'd make it and I had Kerry's number as back-up in case I had to stay in Paris overnight (which seemed a fair alternative) - however fortunately/unfortunately, I made the Eurostar with seconds to spare. Kerry headed iff for her hotel and another few days in Paris.

Proving that I was leaving the holiday behind, the clouds started gathering as soon as I left Paris and when two or so hours later I pulled into London's Waterloo, there'd already been rain lashing the windows. Certain Underground strands were closed (Hello UK!) so the route to my hotel was less easy than anticpated. It was drier in central London but the hotel I was staying in overnight was a disappointment - incredibly basic, quite noisy and more expensive than the great one I'd used on the way out.

King's Cross main station was closed on Sunday for planned 'essential maintenance' so all the trains heading in my direction were starting further up the line at Finsbury Park. K's X caters for thousands of people very day, FP... not so much, so you can imagine the chaos on the platform. The train arrived late (oh, back in the UK for sure, now!) and I wound my way homeward. I arrived in Leeds late afternoon and eventually slept like a very sleepy thing...

Thursday 25th. There was some confusion as to who was going to do what on Thursday. Though the Bilbao trip had been too early the previous day, I'd planned on accompanying the group that might start out much later on Thursday - probably to San Sebastian rather than all the way to Bilabo. However it soon became clear that with Ellen's car insurance not covering a journey across the border, spaces were suddenly very limited. While several people including myself wanted to go, there would never be enough room in Kit's car and though Kit had initially assured me a place, I felt it was only right to drop out and let someone with lesser access to Europe to take advantage. So, once again, it was a do-what-you-please-day and with the sun shining as nicely - as it had continued to do much of the week - there was no real problem.

Kerry decided to relax finishing her book and try to shake-off a migraine, so Ellen, Holly and I went for a quick two-hour trip around the local area in Ellen's car. We travelled through Urt (can you be travelling and In-Urt at the same time. Discuss?) and then up through a designated trail back towards Bayonne. The views were impressive and there was a nice relaxing atmosphere. We absolutely did not get lost at any point. Nope. Not a bit of it. And for anyone who might disagree, I would point out that WE - unlike the San Sebastian posse - actually found an open shop and came back with some supplies ;)

Later: thrashed Kit at table-tennis, then got thrashed by Kit at table-tennis. Objection sustained, dammit! Later still....the masquerade ball...

Wedneday 24th May... Despite the success of the wedding, I think everyone let out a huge sigh of relief that all had gone well and from the Wednesday onwards there was less a sense of urgency and more a case of 'What can we fit in in the rest of the week?'. On Wednesday it was decided that everyone could do what they wanted, separately or together. Holly, Dean and Fran had planned in advance to go off to Bilbao, but though they ahd space in the car, was too tired to be dragged up for a 7:00am start so decided to pass (hence I eventually got up just before lunch). Some stayed at the chateau and some of us went into Bayonne (I think by this time, Kerry had seen Bayonne so many times, that the chateau and book-reading was a welcome quiet alternative... and as I keep telling Kerry to rest, relax and enjoy the week off - but her enjoyment usually seems to be involved in organising, creating and catering - the fact that she's actually quietly sitting reading is a victory! ;) ). Bayonne is just a short trip out anyway, and we're gone only a few hours. We had a look around Bayonne's main church and then enjoyed mucho eating. The highlight was a tie between my consuming of a crepe suzette AND a banana split... and the group viewing of Shaleah's impressive jugs.


The group divided up into girly shoppers ("Isn't it ironic we're going shopping in an American make-up store in Bayonne?") and the manly explorers ("Quick, let's make shadow-hand-puppets against the castle wall and discuss the velocity created if we fell off one of these battleme...THUD!")

Both groups headed home separately late afternoon and sedate relaxing ensued. With Dawson having left the evening/early morning before, there was no discussing of Buffy and no energy to stay up late. Holly got back late evening and by the time everyone else retired, the sound of contented Spanish-themed snoring wafted gently across the servants' quarters...

Sunday 21st May. Sunday involved beachiness. Beachiness is always good when the sun shines to a decent level, but there's something about Sundays, lying there attempting to look vaguely unBritish and hoping to God that you at least gain some colour with the exposure to ultraviolet rays which is just... special. Or pathetic. However, lying on a beach-towel close to several hot young ladies and pretending not to take in the ample Europeaness of the scantically-clad women who have gone all al-fresco further up the beach is also good. There was also ritual burial, purchasing of said beach towel and swimming trunks/costume/unSpeedo-like garments. There was the search for a toilet and a rating system for the guys on the beach that completely lost me for a while, until it didn't.

The day came and went. Ice-creams were bought, dropped, bought again and eaten carefully. The car trip there and back was full of memorable lines (though I can't remember if the best came on the way or the way back, which kinda dilutes my point). However everyone recalled Shaleah's 'Peach Flavoured Cows' and my 'Jolly Good Think...' would come back to haunt both of us again and again. Particularly from Alex, but he's a Republican, so I could find ways to taunt him later. :) The evening was full of wine, good humour and water polo. Not being able to swim I had a much better time than one might expect and despite blatant cheating from Kit, un-vicar like pragmatism by Dawson and a vicious tearing of my forearm skin by Holly (she's an animal, I tell you and she was on my bloody side at the time!) all went exceedingly well and the day finished well into the next. I haven't partied that hard in a while. I may need another holiday just to recover.

It's taken me a lifetime (so far) to realise that we too often let other people shape us, let their actions define how we react or respond and too often try to rise to their expectations and beliefs rather than our own. We seek favour and approval and we compromise for that reason and then we suddenly notice we're doing it more than we should... that, personally or professionally, we're suddenly being a passenger in others' lives and not a driver in our own.

There are days and weeks when I am just too damned tired to keep justifying myself to others, tired of apologising without context, tired of holding a buck that was hurled in my direction and which I caught out of politeness not neccessity, tired of treading softly when I should be walking tall, tired of putting in 110% and getting nothing but ambivalence, tired of being the one forced to compromise when others refuse even the merest helpful shuffle.

Times like this are when you truly appreciate the people in your life who love you not for your perfections (and even I have less than I once did!) but as much because of your foibles...and prove it in either the simplest words, their gestures of thanks or merely their continued presence in your world. If I don't tell them enough how much I appreciate that, then I'm doing it here.

Life is all about learning through experience and turbulence, time and distance, whose opinions matter to you and whose don't or shouldn't.

Tuesday. Feels like Monday. But that's okay, because Monday felt like a whole year of Mondays combined. It was noted I hadn't updated this blog in ages, so let's get serious about that...

I'm always wonder if the best con-reports are those written after one has time to digest everything and sift and organise memories, or whether the ones that are written in the afterglow/fall-out are the most interesting. Certainly after some sleep is good and I think I'm beginning to catch up a bit.

HLWW7 - A Call to Arms took place almost ten months after a conversation with Carmel in Sydney in which I said 'One of these days you'll have to come to my neck of the woods as we've got the perfect venue - The Royal Armouries in Leeds'. No sooner had the words escaped my mouth than a) Carmel thought the idea would be great for 2006 and b) I realised that I'd just lost the nice travel/break from the norm that usually accompanies the hard work. In fact, being the guy at Ground Zero in Yorkshire, I probably trebled my usual workload too. However if my hometown was going to host the event, I was going to make damn sure it was the best event it could be. Hopefully that was somewhat accomplished, though it's not for me to tell.

Some people have criticised the fact there wasn't a program of events ahead of the event. It's a fair comment, but as is often the case things are in flux right up to the opening ceremony as we try to maximise coverage. This time around, with Bill Panzer being a surprise guest - and the possibility of Source footage being screened (and sidenote: I was honestly telling people on the Friday that we didn't have any footage as Bill only managed to organise it at the last second) together with co-ordinating stuff about the original film, the new film, the new and old TV series, the computer game, the anime, the auction etc it wasn't until late Friday that we could 100% approve the schedule. We knew there would be a ton of stuff to fit in and it was simply a matter of working it around a logical and pragmatic time-frame. We did advertise the Meet & Greet aspect of the Friday and I think that went well. Though a few non-con bar dwellers were a little bewildered by the influx.


One by one the guests checked in to their Leeds residence and though there were a few hiccups with train arrival times (nothing new with GNER), that all went smoothly

I always feel like stepping out in front of an audience is, as Stephen Fry commented recently, like addressing a school assembly. It can be fun or boring for the audience and I try to make it fun. The hardest bits of my job go on behind the scenes and un-noticed (if things go right), but the eMCee duties are both easier, harder and important. It was good to see a raft of faces I knew and hadn't spoken to in a long time (Hi to Godiva, Silaswench, Dawn, Beatrice etc), put physical in-the-room faces to those I'd only met regularly in cyberspace (Hey there to Shakta, Scoprion, Shy German etc) and to meet new people who I'd never seen before or only cross-posted with a few times (Velvet Glove, Steph, Bonita etc). I'd met up with David Abramowitz, Peter, Bill Panzer and Marcus briefly the night before after their arrival and met up with Richard and Adrian on Saturday in the wings of the Armouries' theatre. Getting the ball rolling on Saturday was farly easy with simple rules and house-keeping lists and then we were underway. I knew we'd have a 20 year Highlander retrospective, but was truly surprised we'd got th Source promo. Much discusion and the sound of the internet breaking in half followed.

I have to admit that I didn't get to see any panel all the way through - excepting some of the first where I helped distribute the microphones to those who wanted to ask questions (and apologies to those in the balcony who didn't have their own microphone due to a fault on the third available mic but they managed to enunciate well in the accoustically suitable venue!). Working behind the scenes, there's just too much to do. While audiences are being entertained with one panel, you have to make sure everything is ready for the next. The likes of Shelley and Rosie may have been briefly acknowledged in the closing moments of the weekend, but without them often hiding off in the wings and getting guests mic'd up, called down and props ready, the realtively seamless string of events would not have gone so well, so a big shout out to them! Equally Nancye, photographer extraordinaire, kept everyone smiling and Judes and Aine quietly ushered everyone where they needed to be, from green room to stage etc and Karen quitely kept an eye on auction prep and cash flow. John Bierly was here too - only fair as he'd welcomed me to HIS hometown in Indiana for the now legendary Bar-B-Q-Con in 2000.

The memorial video (created by Mon) was a hugely important part of the weekend. We were determined that we didn't want to place it as a 'downer' but as a marker of respect. For those of us who personally knew some of those who have passed on it was a very emotional moment and underlined the sense of community that fills every corner of the fandom. Jean et al... you are much missed.

Perhaps most interesting - in a weekend full of exclusives - was the talk of the video game and Nic, who is helping David A on the game's creation, was an charismatic guest who genuinelly seemed interested in the fanbase's views and input into the creative process. The concert/cabaret is downtime for a lot of people, but as well as eMCeeing that as well, I was drafted into the scripted scene that I'd written for the geusts a week or so before, so until that aspect of the evening was over I was probably just as quietly stressed out as before. It might explain the fact I accidentally reversed the order of two of the acts, but hopefully that didn't matter too much in the end. However the guests were fantastic and did us proud. Adrian's 'Bad Day at Terminal A: A Silent Rendition' was a brilliant mime, complete with hysterical 'punch-line'. Everyone knows Richard Ridings can sing, but know one really knew his range. Songs like the soulful, self-penned Helpless were quite amazing. Peter read some intense passages from Pete Townsend's book of anecdotes and Marcus Testory entertained for well over an hour with old songs accompanied with his girlfriend and Ralph on flute/guitar/vocals. David's 'Memories' was truly memorable and special mention to Mon for her keyboard skills. The aforementioned 'What's Past is Prologue' sketch went down well and I was relieved that the lines were well received (and that the guys ocassional promised moments of ad-libbing didn't throw me off too much! ;) )Yes, the food was a little... minimal in artistic terms (I found my pork under the carrot) but it was tasty and I think the entertainment was worth the price of admission alone.

The concert finished after midnight but I managed a few hours in the bar afterwards, catching up with the likes of journalist Grant Kempster and Richard Ridings, but as there was another early start on Sunday, there wasn't the chance for TOO much merriment. Rather than heading home for a few hours I managed to grab some floor space for the night and Sunday was approached reasonably freshly (though I did take the odd moment to just close my eyes and relax, listening to parts of one or two panels rather than watching - but usually for just a literal few minutes at a time.


We had to reverse some of the panel orders when Marcus had to be able to leave earlier than planned, but it all went down well. The auction is always a highlight and Peter and Adrian are always on fine form. UK con auctions never quite seem to attract the bids of US versions, so there were some bargains to be had here. However there were a few items that went sailing up the ladder and produced many moments of fun. Can one describe a moment as almost a Brokeback Director's Chair? Yes, I think one can. ;)

There was more on The Source, with David as passionate as he always is and admitting he sometimes reveals too much (though as pointed out the previous day's promo reel as unfinished and might be deceptive within the outcomes of seeming plot points within the story!)

Like some others have commented, there's a vast range of people - ages, religions, races, nationalities - who assembled in lees for this con and that's always a memorable thing. People pull together and new friends are found. Nothing better than that.

Someone (I think it was Velvet Glove and Steph) asked me if I'd enjoyed the event. I actually had to pause and think. It wasn't because I hadn't enjoyed the event - which everyone who came up to me seemed to think was the best in ages - but this time around I hadn't really managed to get any down-time and think about it. From Wednesday lunch-time throught to the wee, wee hours of Monday morning I don't think I really felt relaxed. Organisers never get much time to be off-duty, but it was often a case here that there were three or four things that needed doing before one could think of stepping away from beign an ambassador and eMcee duties and downing a beer (Despite what Methos may tell you, I think I managed only six or so bottles over four days). By the time the guests got their presents and raised a glass on stage at the closing ceremony (no glass for me this time, but I'll live) I felt the job had been well done. Certanly thanks to those who came up later and shook my hand - all thanks was received humbly and with great thanks.

So. Now it's Tuesday. Almost a whole week since the first con-goers arrived in the UK. As the HLWW Scottish tour heads north, the real world beckons for me. Impact duties, Verbatim duties (thanks to all who bought back-copies and new info ill be up on my site's main page very shortly) and heading off a couple of snarky comments made on the HL list. Despite the extreme tiredness and aches that still remain (which I think is akin jet-lag but without the frequent flyer benefits) it's all good.

I look forward to Vancouver where I hope I'll be eMceeing again, but with all due respect, I think I need a proper holiday before then. Actually I know I need one. I hear Bora, Bora is nice this time of year.