The words heading this entry were spouted by Jeremy Hillary Boob, the Nowhere Man, in Yellow Submarine. I’m certainly feeling somewhat boobish at the moment. Amanda Kimmerly and I churned through ConJour 3 this past weekend, making most of the opportunity to connect with friends old and new. Not least of among the former class were fellow Blue Moose Press authors O. M. Grey and Paul Elard Cooley. Attendance at the con was lower than we had hoped, perhaps because spring break is this week. With a significant percentage of potential con-goers on South Padre or other beaches, we had long moments in the dealers room during which Amanda and I took turns throwing Nod’s Way dice and drawing cards from a deck of Brian Eno’s Oblique Strategies that I had impulsively thrown into the baggage. Oddly, the peak of interest in The Hidden Lands of Nod and other things Stikmantic came right at the end of the event, as we stowed books and said goodbye to friends among the other vendors. This is not to complain. Purchases made during the final ninety minutes of the con doubled our sales for the weekend. All were made to individuals who had visited with us over the days or hours previous. Most amazing was that anyone was able to stagger through Sunday at all, given the “Daylight Savings” spring forward on the very night of the event when con-goers are widely known to party. I give a shout out to organizers Marion, James, Deborah–and especially to Chef Marie for her kind words.
With ConJour in the past, Ms. Kimmerly and I have a little over a week to focus on our several and differing creative projects before we load our goods and selves back into the mighty Scion for AggieCon 42, March 25-27, in College Station. Before that fast approaching date, I hope to make my way deep into the final draft of part one of Rose Moon, the novella I am writing for serial publication in The Sorcerer’s Scrolls. Make your way back to this location for updates on the status of that initiative.