KGB Night!
Much fun was had last night at the Fantastic Fiction Reading Series at the KGB Bar. My old (and I do mean old!) pal
parttimedriver read a couple of great, surreal short stories -- including one about what would happen if Flannery O'Connor and Sinead O'Connor were the same person -- followed by Naomi Novik reading a very funny story spoofing the whole unicorn-and-virgin fantasy trope. I haven't had a lot of time to go to these readings this year, but I'm glad I made this one. Both Brett and Naomi were excellent and managed to keep my attention, something that's getting harder and harder for readers to do these days.
Also, big congrats to Brett for going on sabbatical to write his novel. The world awaits!
Naomi's husband Charles Ardai was there too, so I finally got to meet my Gabriel Hunt editor in the flesh, only to discover he's as great a guy in person as he is in email. I wish I'd had a chance to talk with him some more, but soon the reading started, and afterward, at the traditional post-reading Chinese feast,
ktempest and
vschanoes somehow managed to boot me away from his and Brett's table, and so I did not get to sit with my editor and my good friend I only see once or twice a year. Thank you, ladies.
I refuse to play musical chairs at these things anymore. Starting now, any out of town KGB readers who are good friends or editors I've worked with are hereby invited to dinner either the night before or the night after. Or drinks after dinner that night. I'm tired of taking the time to come out to see them and then not having the chance to actually talk with them much because of the insane seating rush at the restaurant. It is, quite frankly, ridiculous.
Also, big congrats to Brett for going on sabbatical to write his novel. The world awaits!
Naomi's husband Charles Ardai was there too, so I finally got to meet my Gabriel Hunt editor in the flesh, only to discover he's as great a guy in person as he is in email. I wish I'd had a chance to talk with him some more, but soon the reading started, and afterward, at the traditional post-reading Chinese feast,
I refuse to play musical chairs at these things anymore. Starting now, any out of town KGB readers who are good friends or editors I've worked with are hereby invited to dinner either the night before or the night after. Or drinks after dinner that night. I'm tired of taking the time to come out to see them and then not having the chance to actually talk with them much because of the insane seating rush at the restaurant. It is, quite frankly, ridiculous.