Gettin My Geek On

99,500 words

I've got a post in mind, inspired by some of CS Harris's this week, about story-jarring unbelievability, how it relates to truth, how writers' lies tell the truth, etc.

But not yet. Not yet.

After I finish this pot of coffee, I'm off to Armageddon, NZ's only real geekfest. It started out as a quiet little (read: near dead) comics gathering some years ago. Then Bill got involved.

Bill is like the Saul of Kiwi comics. After his conversion on the road to Damascus, Bill transformed our intimate little scene into a major cultural event that attracts tens of thousands of people every year. He brought in Nintendo, Sony and Microsoft. He brought in wrestlers and rappers.

By now, the convention bears the same resemblance to a comics event that Christianity bears to the gnostic Judaism of Jesus, James and Thomas.

But I digress.

This will be the first time in a couple years (novels, anyone?) that I've been to one of these. They aren't usually held on the South Island (not enough people), and without new work to promote and sell, I couldn't justify the trip to the North Island. I know, we should all have these problems, right?

But today the con is in my own back yard, and I have a chance I haven't had in more years than I want to think about. I get to wander the aisles as a fan.

No drawing. No hand-selling books. No charicatures of kiddies to keep the people coming by the table. (Hmm, note to self: drawing as a way to draw a crowd at a book signing?) (Note to self: have book to sign.)

(Further note to self: QUIT ruminating and finish this freaking BLOG!!!)

Okay. Um, yes, where was I? Oh yes.

I'm getting my geek on today, reconnecting with that inner little kid who still thrills at the idea of people in their underwear throwing cars at each other...