Chicago TARDIS (November 29-December 1)

I've just returned from DC after a week away--back to Wisconsin for Thanksgiving. Seeing my family again drove home just how much I missed them, but also how much I enjoy living on my own. It's a balance between different sources of comfort and stress, I suppose, especially after as rough a year as this has been (you didn't miss anything; I'm not giving details on this blog, at least for a while yet. Suffice to say this was the first time I've seen some people since certain things had happened, but the adjustment went far better than I feared).

I also took a few days to run down to Chicago and hang out with my other family: the Whovians.

Pictured above: Ellen (as the Eleventh Doctor in the episode Closing Time), "Hearts" (as the Eighth Doctor in the Dark Eyes audios), me (as President Romana III), Fyodor (as the Eighth Doctor--and Plushie Eight), Ashli (as Charley Pollard from the Eighth Doctor audios), and 2 friendly Third Doctors whose names I didn't catch. Photo credit goes to Fyodor's mom!

I just realized a lot of this post will not make much sense to anyone who doesn't follow Doctor Who. Oh, well.

Although I felt bad for running out on Mom for two and half days of the seven we had together, she was really sweet about agreeing to drive me to the convention center on a Black Friday. My sister, back from the University of Davis, rode along and we got two hours of conversation in that way. We've never been Black Friday shoppers (my sister and I have both worked retail) so it wasn't a real loss to be driving that day, although we did worry about finding parking once we found out the convention was right near a shopping center. Luckily, we found spaces--among numerous cars in a certain shade of blue, licence plates like Davros and T4RDIS, and windows decorated in Circular Gallifreyan. We'd come to the right place. 

We'd hoped to get lunch between the three of us and "Hearts," the first of the friends I was meeting at Chicago TARDIS, but the length of the registration line didn't permit it, especially as Hearts & I wanted to make it to Paul McGann's Q&A panel at 2 and it was already one o'clock. So I bid farewell to Mom and the sister, after explaining a few of the costumes they saw in the lobby (aw, civilians).

Hearts and I first met and bonded over a shared love of Paul McGann, and over time we've gathered with others in an internet-based fanmass known as The Clann McGann. I could say too much and too little at this point. I could easily make this entire post one long squee fest about how lovely and adorable 54-year old Scouser Paul McGann is. Here's an equivalent of one thousand-word post in one picture:

(54 as of November 14th!!!)

(In fact Hearts had just given him a birthday present, which explains some of that smile. But I'm getting ahead of myself.)

Anyway, although I've been participating in the Clann McGann since mid-2011, the first time I saw him in person was at Gallifrey One in 2012. Long story short, Hearts and I had a singularly wonderful time, I wound up gushing and calling him "darling" to his face (a bit patronizing, as he's 30 years older than I am) and over the course of apologizing for that, I wound up being kissed on the hand by the Eighth Doctor.

Paul McGann is a wonderful human being.

He wasn't feeling very well at the beginning of the interview (many people laughed nervously as he asked if there was a doctor in the house--not exactly punning) but he was characteristically gracious throughout the interview. He also seemed to liven up when his co-star Daphne Ashbrook came onstage. She's also a darling, and always seems as excited to see her fans as we are to see her. She pulled out her camera onstage to take pictures of the audience a few times. Hearts and I sat with several members of Clann McGann in the audience and we cheered at several opportunistic moments, like when "groupies" were mentioned, and also remembered the title of at least one of Paul's movies--"Paper Mask"--that he didn't ("that one where I was a fake doctor"...as opposed to, well, the Doctor I suppose). When one of the Clann went up to ask a question and said he was her favorite, he complimented her on her discerning taste, which was a refreshing change from modesty ;D. He also, after someone pointed out that Daphne Ashbrook's character Grace is still owned by Fox and can't appear in the current BBC series because of that, suggested a meeting of executive minds to bring everything "into common ownership--if that isn't too socialist." 

There was also one fan who was a bit nervous to ask his question. Paul told him to come onstage and see how nerve-wracking that was. So the intrepid fan lept up, turned around, let out a squeak like a gargantuan mouse, and jumped back down. I take it we were pretty intimidating. 

Speaking of politics, even the more liberal of us admitted to an uncanny feeling of deja vu as we found ourselves waiting...and waiting...and waiting...to see a doctor--for photos or autographs. The "virtual queue" ticket system is good in theory, but in practice--well, I'll hold my peace, especially as I was lucky and got into all the sessions I hoped for. I feel very sorry for the volunteers who had to wrangle all of the crowds, very very sorry for crowd members who got lost in the shuffle, and pretty irritated, though not surprised, at how downright nasty some people are getting on the con's Facebook page. Throwing insults around never makes anything better, you guys, for shame.

On a happier note:

I spent some time Friday in my Eighth Doctor cosplay, which has seen a lot of love over the years, but the heavy velvet coat and shirt which would not stay tucked (at least the waistcoat hid my duck tail) left me yearning for a change--plus, I wanted to show off my new discovery. While sorting through my wardrobe, I had discovered the makings of a "closet cosplay" of a native of Gallifrey, flaunting orange and magenta silk. Although not everybody picked up that I was supposed to be Romana III (who only appears in the Eighth Doctor novels), I did get plenty of compliments, and several to the effect that they couldn't believe it was something I'd dug out of my closet.

The secret ingredient to a closet cosplay: prom gown.

"It still fits!"--a closet cosplay is born

Upon discovering a) that my prom dress was still wearable, plus the coat a good friend who works at JoAnn Fabrics had sewn me, b) in the 50th anniversary episode, some random Gallifreyans showed up in a similar color scheme, and c) this was really really fun to wear, I shared some pictures with my online Whovian friends asking them to convince me to do or not do it. They failed to convince me not to do it, so. This meant a number of people who had never before seen me in real life were able to recognize me by the dress, as I found out once I stepped off the elevator and had someone literally run across the lobby to greet me.

Our merry band was rounded out as Heart's (her preferred nom de guerre) and my friend Ellen arrived from Vancouver around 8 o'clock. We traversed the surrounding area in the chill November night to find a food court. Nourishment provided, we caught the tail end of the charity auction being held for the Illinois food bank and went to bed at an hour shockingly early for a con.

"Hearts" is on the left, Ellen on the right. Ellen took many of these pictures, leading to the sadly ironic result that she does not appear in many of them.

Then again, we were up shockingly early on Saturday morning. We wound up in the halls at 9:15, waiting to get in line for the virtual queue--or as I came to call the phenomenon, "queuing to queue for the queue." The virtual queue system did not quite offer the unparalleled convenience it promised. Milling around in the halls did give us the chance to meet with more Clann McGann members and other congoers, admire cosplays, and scout out the dealer's room and upcoming panels.

I am trying to convince Hearts (Plushie Eight's mama) to sew more Plushie Doctors to sell in dealer's rooms to come or perhaps on Etsy. Your help in this campaign is appreciated. 

Once I got my virtual queue ticket, I hurried to the 10:00 one-on-one session with authors Jonathan Blum and Kate Orman. This genuinely sweet married couple has written some of my favorite Eighth Doctor novels, so I rushed in as soon as possible in case I'd be crowded out by other fans. When I told this to Blum, he was genuinely appreciative. As were the 2 or 3 other people in the room. A few more did trickle in over the course of the hour, but I guess it is difficult to get people into Saturday morning panels. Even though plenty of us were up anyway thanks to the queueing.

It was a really fun panel, although small. Orman and Blum compared their different writing styles--going really fast and then revising vs going slowly to create a more polished, if not finalized, first draft--and also reminisced on the "wilderness years" when Doctor Who as a TV show was over and the novels were the focus of fan attention. Not all of that attention was exactly good, as Blum recalls a fan standing up to demand a refund at an early convention. None of that happened here.

Also, one sure way to my heart is to admire Plushie Eight, which Blum and Orman certainly did. He was dubbed "insanely cute," his little cravat was wondered over, and we discussed whether the Eighth Doctor's coat was really green. The latest word I've had, from people who have seen the original in the autograph room, is that it was deep green, but the stunt coat was black and shimmered green in some lighting. The novels also described Eight's coats as brown, purple, or red. Kate Orman related a brief-lived controversy over the color of Paul McGann's eyes, which was settled by an editor spending an hour seated across from him and emerging to declare "They are BLUE." A sentiment with which I heartily agree.

And at some point over the course of the panel, despite a wise policy of not speaking ill of other writers, somebody mentioned writing needlessly overcomplicated plots and someone in the room (naming no names) cheerfully exclaimed, "Hello, Stephen!" Although I'm actually happy with what Moffat did for the 50th anniversary and extremely excited about him bringing McGann back for a mini episode, I'm very annoyed that the message he drew from the fan response to that episode was not "The fans really like the Eighth Doctor" but "The fans really like surprises." To be fair, I think he may have been attempting to drive home a lesson about leaked footage--since that's why McGann's Doctor wound up regenerating a week early ("I can't believe Moffat killed Paul on his birthday," someone said in the Clann)--but, still. To a man with a hammer, nails everywhere, etc etc.

 Anyway, moral of the story is, the authors and stories of the Doctor Who books are awesome even if they're no longer the Where It's At of Who.

"Because Book Companions Deserve Love too!"

At last, Hearts, Ellen, and I found ourselves in the less-than-virtual queue for photos with McGann and Daphne Ashbrook--accompanied by some props. Ever since the "Paul Doll" got cuddled by Daphne at Gallifrey One this February, it has been my ambition to introduce him to the original. Now I had my chance.

I was so flustered to see McGann in person again that I forgot to hand over Plushie for possible hugs or silly poses, an oversight I regret now. I did make Plushie wave (it's not that I revert to 12 years old when shy; I genuinely just make plush toys wave at other people to say hello and I will do this all my life even if I die at 300 after a cyrogenic freeze). McGann said something about him being "Cute" and "like a little brother" but then he had his arm very firmly around my back for the photo and I wasn't paying much attention. Paul McGann's capacity for touchy-feelyness in a way that seems both friendly and sincere is a true gift.

Then it was Heart's & Ellen's turn for a picture. I admit I watched with some trepidation, as their choice of props to pose with was...a little atypical. After sewing Eight for me, Hearts went on to make two other plushies--a little Redcoat and "the Kid," a little faun. The faun was inspired in part by a scene of McGann's in the early 90's miniseries Nice Town. How shall I explain Nice Town? It's an...erm, a comedy about family planning and gender roles in suburban Britain. It avoids being raunchy simply by how bizarre and at times straight-faced it is. That said, [please if you are under 16 can you stop reading this now] the little plushie faun was not...100% anatomically accurate in a way true to the film, which was very true to certain aspects of satyr mythology.

So you have to admit that's an unusual choice of plush toy (much as I love The Kid in his innocently magical way) and even more unusual to actually confront the actor with. I put our chances at 60-40 of Paul McGann taking out a restraining order on us on the spot. That's probably why I made Hearts let me get my picture with him first.

I was so, so, wrong. 

Amanda introduced the plushies. The Redcoat has a complicated heritage but his root inspiration was McGann's role as supposed bad guy Colonel McNab in the Kidnapped miniseries. "It's been a long time!" he said about that one, posing little Plush!coat on his knee. And then out came Faun. "From Nice Town."

Scroll back up to that picture of Paul McGann to see his eyebrows, and consider how expressive they can be.

"He's missing a vital appendage," he told us.

Hearts sputtered that he was, of course, only a little Faun with much growing to do, and I laughed--probably quite loudly, although all the world for me was silent except those amazing words in that soft, gentle Scouse accent. Well.

After the photos he gave Hearts a hug, presumably for her hard work sewing plush toys of his increasingly obscure roles (it's good work and should be ongoing!) and then kissed her on the cheek. She reports she felt stubble, before lapsing into delighted catatonia. 

Above: the result of getting kissed on the cheek by Paul McGann. The little tricorner is from the plushie Redcoat checking up on his mother. 

While we were upstairs, I changed out of my Eighth Doctor cosplay (which I'd worn to get a theme going in my photo--upon reflection, it's a pity that Hearts and Ellen didn't do the same; Hearts would have made a lovely faun) and swept in my Lady Presidential gown back to the mall food court. The Egg Harbor cafe was open for brunch and had an excellent gluten free menu, so take note if you're ever in the area in the future. There was a bit of a wait, though. We spent the time checking out the Yankee Candle shop, which is only worth mentioning because Hearts swears that their Treehouse Memories scent is exactly the smell of Paul McGann and/or his sweater.

I tried to be cool about it, I swear I did. I'm sorry.

After lunch, we went back to queue for the queue--this time for autographs from all Three Doctors. We got to hang out with some other Clann McGann members. There was even a heartwarming moment when two people who had only known each other by icons online exchanged real names, then screen names, and discovered they were best friends all along. Unfortunately, this was followed by a nature documentary worthy stampede once the queue opened up. I swear I could hear Mark Strickson narrating our plight.

In the Virtual Queue holding area, they had a life-size TARDIS to pose with. Both Plushie and I might be considered something less than life size. 

Also, a little ahead of us in the queue, I discovered this fellow Eight plushie. His creator gave him to Paul McGann when she got her autograph--I heard the Scouse-accented "Thank you!" across the room and spotted him lying on a chair besides Paul when I got up. I'm sure he's going to a good home.

The Three Doctors Autograph queue was long and arduous, the less said of it the better. I did have some entertaining moments, especially when I realized I had my photo with Paul but nothing for Colin Baker and Peter Davison to sign except my con program, which I'd left up in the room. The benefit of being very far back in line was I had time to run up and fetch it. On my way back, I encountered two members of a wedding party happening on an upper floor. We exchanged best wishes on our respective festivities. 

Sometime I plan to put together a collage set of all the Doctor Who related autographs I've collected over the years. But really, I go for the autographs less for the sake of having a signature and more to get to meet actors and creators in person.

Although the Doctors had it about as hard as us--waiting in line for 2 hours vs signing nonstop for 2 hours, I'm not sure which I'd rather endure--but were extremely pleasant and preternaturally gracious. Colin Baker was even generous enough to laugh weakly at my comment that "The Sixth Doctor is colorful in ways besides the obvious." I'm truly sorry, Mr. Baker.

Meanwhile, Hearts was beside me talking to Paul McGann, and Ellen was filming (somebody get this woman an Oscar statuette). The Clann McGann, like all asylums, is a democracy, but if that ever changes Hearts will become our monarch. She'd brought some chocolates and a card as a slightly-belated birthday gift. She also gave him a (watercolor? in any event beautifully drawn) picture of him as Percy Toplis in The Monocled Mutineer, one of his first and favorite roles.

So she got glomped again, and no one deserved it more richly. Then from her bag of tricks she produced several more things.

A copy of the novelization of the Monocled Mutineer:

He was extremely excited to see a copy, as he hadn't had his hands on one in years. He was so excited that he turned to show it to Colin Baker beside him--"Look at that young soldier boy" (this was 30 years ago, but he still looks eerily like Percy. I'm not sure what McGann is doing to keep from aging, although he's such a sweetheart I suspect it has more to do with Time Lord magic than blood sacrifices a la Elisabeth Bathory).

The rest of Hearts' bag of tricks, culminating in a reference to a certain "naughty scene" from Nice Town (watch the series and find out; I'm not telling you) can be found here. Currently clinical tests are being run to see if daily viewing of that video defeats seasonal winter blahs. The subject of these tests is myself, and I suppose Plushie Eight is the supervising physician.

Speaking of Plushie Eight, he was with me--partially so I was still identifiable after my costume change, and partially because I just got in the habit of carrying him everywhere. Colin Baker asked me who my "little doll" was (continuing the demographic trend of everyone over 40 having one word for Plushie, and the younger, hipper crowd another, although Jonathan Blum of unguessable age described him as "Chibi Eight" and that's accurate, too). Understandably, the Sixth Doctor hasn't watched Eight's movie recently if ever. But I could only point at Paul McGann sitting next to him. "Um, it's him."

Paul agreed, and even added that they shared the same "daft grin." Plushie Eight was modeled off a TV movie screencap:

It's all in the left mouth crinkle

--but until now I hadn't realized quite how accurately I have been waking up to Paul McGann's smile every morning the past year. Well, indeed, again. 

Oh, and either because he liked Plushie or he did remember me from Gally after all or perhaps because I was there in association with Hearts and her bag of wonders, he gave me a hug. And told me I was "nice and warm". I was just angling for a handshake, as when that happened the first time my hands were cold and he wound up chafing warmth into them. Paul McGann's mild obsession with regulating his fans' body temperature is oddly endearing, although I don't know if it's the first sign of an oncoming British grandfather transformation or what. Anyway, as per usual, my expectations were proven wonderfully wrong.

Smiling! Left mouth crinkle! And Plushie is under my own left arm, so I guess he's technically been hugged by McGann, too? (Thanks once again to Ellen for being so handy with a camera!)

Peter Davison, after 2 solid hours of signing, was subdued but gracious. Like probably many other people in the line, I thanked him for the Five(ish) Doctors anniversary special.

We piled in to friends car and drove around looking for food, decided against a few sports bars as we weren't exactly dressed for it, and wound up at a Noodles and Company. They served wine, although when Ashli ordered a glass she had to take her blonde wig off to be carded. The unexpected perils of cosplay. A little girl at the restaurant asked me if we were in a play because we were so dressed up. Unsure how much she'd understand the concept of a convention--I don't think I would have at her age--I said there was a big party going on at the hotel and we were in costume for it. Ashli's boyfriend was dressed as Ainley Master, and he said Paul McGann complimented him on the excellent Renaissance-era costume. So Colin Baker might not recognize McGann in plush toy form, but McGann didn't recognize Baker's nemesis. It all evens out in the end.

Speaking of Masters, the one hosting the Masquerade was excellent (Played by William Dezoma, who for some reason bore a resemblance to Tony Lee. Perhaps it was the beard. I did see Tony Lee out of costume going to pet a congoer's dog and having a really friendly and down-to-earth chat, so I'm in his fan club anyway).

Also, it seems like Freema Agyema was just down the hall from our room. Nothing really came of this information, except we saw her going in once and it was kind of cool.

Sunday morning we didn't have any queues to get up for, but we did sit down in the lobby by the elevators to people watch. This paid off as we saw lots of wonderful cosplays, including a fantastic Liz X who enchanted a little girl, and also some of the guests on their way to the brunch. Paul McGann wandered towards the front doors instead until someone called him back. Early-morning dazed and confused, or trying to make a break for it? Who can say.

I went to the Crafty Whovians panel, where I was inspired. I really do want to either take up sculpey clay again or start knitting. If the latter, an accurate 4th Doctor scarf is probably too ambitious of a first project. Still inspiring.

Captain America and Iron Man may not be Whovian, but they sure are cute!

(Brothers of the Other Eight, who went to Paul McGann. And check out that weeping angel!)

In the dealer's room, I got autographs from Jonathan Blum and Kate Orman. Sadly, I'd left my copy of Year of Intelligent Tigers--complete with giant Paul McGann signature on the title plate--at home, but I had them sign a leaf of drawing paper which I intend to decorate as a bookmark soon. My fan bona fides was maintained, however, by the way Blum recognized me--or at least Plushie Eight, although he had my name down to a syllable--as one of the early-morning panelists the day before. Kate Orman detected Plushie's resemblance to Ed Elric from Fullmetal Alchemist, which is cool because when Hearts was just brainstorming how to make him I sent her a picture of my Ed plushie for comparison. Between Orman and McGann, Plushie's pedigree has never before been so well sussed out. Jonathan Blum also took this opportunity to snuggle Eight, and then, realizing this was out of character given how he writes the novels, decided to try stabbing him with a capped pen. Somehow (oh, however could it have happened?) our conversation turned to Lloyd Rose, the other Eighth Doctor Adventure novelist who writes such lovely torture scenes, and it turns out she lives in DC! I was excited, although I imagine it'd be a bit awkward if I hunted her down just to tell her that her villains do such lovely things with knives...

The 50th anniversary celebrations continued with a screening of The Five(ish) Doctors with commentary by Peter Davison, who was happily awake this time around. He was gracious even when exhausted but actually has a real sense of humor! And the shocking revelation of John Barrowman's family was apparently his idea. Also, Colin Baker has a specially tailored copy of the Sixth Doctor's coat that fits, shall we say, more comfortably than the original. Given how much he seems to enjoy loathing the thing (he told a baby Six cosplayer--a winner of the Masquerade, actually--that "you're the only one who makes that look good") this was rather amusing to me.

One last time with Blum and Orman, I dropped into see the screening--if that's the right word for an audio--of the first part of The I Job, which involves some alien monsters that first premiered in the Eighth Doctor Adventures novel Seeing I.  They are a really endearing pair and I sort of envy them each other. Also, although audios are still a little unusual for my American media appetite, The I Job looks pretty fun--the tagline is Blake's 7 meets Ocean's 11 if that gives you an idea.

The Classic Companion panel was adorable, because classic companions are all adorable. It's some sort of hidden casting requirement, I think. Passing by the autograph room by the dealer's room, I overheard one of the volunteers (a little recovered from Saturday) reflecting how lucky they were that everyone involved with the show was somehow magically nice. A good moment of fluffiness to end on, I think. I spent a little more time 'lobbyconning' before Mom arrived to drive me back home. She's not quite converted to Whovianism, but I think she can at least see the appeal it has for me. She also seemed to completely understand when I wore my prom dress for the rest of the day.

Actually, in closing, I just want to state for the record that Hearts really needs to open an Etsy shop.

Between the plushies, who several people thought came from the dealer's room and at least one dealer thought were excellent,

and her handmade steampunk Sonic Screwdriver, which not everyone recognized from the audio covers but at least one person thought was official merchandise 

this really has to happen. 

(The sonic is the thing she & Paul McGann are holding, and is, honestly, the least interesting part of this picture. Even so.)

It's Been a Grand Weekend

Especially for Whovians. Also those still mourning the passing of John Fitzgerald Kennedy--now that's a morbid cosmic coincidence. And somewhere between joy and tragedy lie the Hobbit fans, with the Battle of Five Armies also falling on November 23rd (warning: may be spoilers through the wikia link).

For me, it's also been the culmination of several weeks of intense labor, interspersed with perhaps more procrastination than strictly speaking necessary. And also with my awesome part-time internship blogging for Amani DC, including this announcement of our new local job skills training program, a piece I've felt especially proud of. Unfortunately, in blogging for them I'm afraid blogging for myself has sometimes slipped my mind.

I've also found little to blog about, and, again, haven't had a lot of time for it--all because these past weeks have been filled by my last push to finish the Starter Guide for Professional Writers. And, as of this weekend, I've done it!

This is much, much later than I expected or would have preferred to finish it, although there's a reason even for that. As I wrote the second draft, I expanded in a lot of areas, not least to include my lessons from running crowdfunding campaigns and preparing to self-publish through CreateSpace and Smashwords. The Starter Guide is more than twice as long as I planned--90,000 words instead of 40,000! Hopefully this means it will have even more useful information for writers on finishing, editing, publishing, and promoting their stories!

It still needs to undergo a final copyedit and  formatting, but I assume I will be able to release and distribute it not longer after I return from Thanksgiving. I'll be visiting my family after a particularly rough summer, so we'll see how that goes. There are many people back in Wisconsin that I miss--and I'll also be meeting some fellow Whovian friends at the Chicago TARDIS convention the weekend of December 1st. Paul McGann will be there, and so, of course, will Plushie Eighth Doctor (for non-Whovians, that's McGann's character).

(That's the little guy sitting on the shoulder of the woman in the picture. As for that woman, um, I'm not quite sure who she is, but she's wearing a devilishly stylish shirred tunic from One Mango Tree, Fair Trade apparel carried in the Amani DC store. I need to do a fashion post someday, although being ~fashionable is quite the new experience for me.)

Once publishing the Starter Guide is out of the way, I'll be devoting my energy to more systematically approaching my job search. In the meantime, I'm also seeking more freelance editing gigs, and you can find me on Fiverr and Elance. I admit, I'm pretty delighted to score in the top 5% for Creative Writing testers on Elance.

My 48 hours of the 24 Hours of Gallifrey One

After last year at Gallifrey Network 23, which seemed to last forever (in a good way...and, also in a good way, its effects never quite ended...) this year it flew by way too fast. I think mostly because I missed Thursday night LobbyCon and Friday's opening and panels. Last year, my school and volunteerism schedule was much more forgiving and allowed me to take 5 days off from them. When I registered for a second helping, I had no idea I'd be in Washington, D.C. this semester.

Not that I'm regretting it! All in all, the con was a much-needed break and, weirdly enough, a jolt of familiarity in a year that's so far been full of changes.

It also gave me a refresher course in How to Use Airplanes, always helpful.

Friday

Business as usual in the morning and afternoon--that is, I attended a classroom session for my seminar and then our class met a speaker at Dupont Circle. I'd been worried that I would need to leave the speaker early (as I explained to my professor, I didn't know where I'd be when I registered for the convention last spring! ) but in fact there was plenty of time not only to attend & get back, but then to repack everything and make some last posts, updates, and adjustments to my class group's service project IndieGoGo Campaign (about a week left!) before braving the Metro. I say braving, because while the Metro is quite nice and convenient, this was my first time attempting it with luggage in tow and something of a time constraint. The Metro is quite nice and convenient...except on weekends. But I didn't miss any transfers and, though trains were probably running 1 to a track somewhere in DC, they were not along the portions I was using. I made it to Regan National with time to spare a) looking for my carrier's concourse and b) remembering you need things called boarding passes and then running to get one. I enjoy traveling, but I'm still learning all the nitty-gritty steps one has to take to survive it.

All the while I had not only my just-barely-small-enough-for-carry-on suitcase, but also my backpack, which I was snuggling in my lap whenever I sat down because it contained my laptop, my books, and Plushie Eight.

Plushie Eight has traveled as much or more than I have, given he was shipped to me from my friend in Maryland this Christmas, just in time to join my family roadtrip to move me in to D.C., and then came with me on several sightseeing trips.


In short, if I'm going somewhere, it's with Plushie in tow. Either because he's a security toy and I need security at this point in my life or, equally likely, he's just so splendidly photogenic.

I'm like one of those Facebook moms who uses a picture of her kid as a profile image. Expect to see a lot of this little guy throughout the rest of this post. It won't be a hardship, I presume.

Anyway, Plushie Eight and I made it through security (he once greatly charmed a security guard at the Library of Congress, where they physically look through your backpack; but on the X-rays he is just a mass of fluff and so arouses no suspicion or amusement whatsoever) in 30 minutes of the 2 hours I'd been warned to set aside for such, so I spent the remaining time eating expensive airport food, reading the books I'd brought in my backpack, and calling a few people to let them know I was coming West. This included my family, who met me at O'Hare airport during my layover to exchange news, some stamps (my dad collects them) and my Eight Doctor costume. Happy as I was to see my family, my good mood didn't last once I took my leave of them, rushed to my next flight (this meant having to go through security again, although this was nine thirty at night and there wasn't exactly a line) and then waited...for over an hour...on the runway because an indicator light wasn't working.

Waiting for one hour, doing nothing, when you have half a continent to fly across and will probably be awake not less than 20 hours straight to manage it (some people can sleep in coach. I am not one of them), it an extraordinarily demoralizing experience. But, to cut a long and pitiful story short, I made it to LAX and reached the hotel in time to see some Gallifreyan karaoke. The bright side of conventioners staying up until 5am!

Saturday
I was sharing the hotel room with 2 friends (Plushie Eight's creatrix from Maryland, and a California native) and things got a bit crowded, but pleasantly so. Even if I did have to work my way around an ironing board while I tried to fasten my cravat and keep from spilling coffee on anybody else's frock coat--our closet was filled with 8th Doctor coplay, and nothing else. We really should have had ribbons to pass out. Some slogan along the lines of "Eighters Gonna Eight."


Pictured above: Eighters Eighting

Once we got down to the convention center, it was great! We got to revisit the TV Movie TARDIS console--with added posts from the Eye of Harmony

(don't worry, I didn't look into the mirror)

and then met Daphne Ashbrook


Who was greatly impressed by the "Paul Doll"--I think everyone at the convention over 35 referred to my plush toy as a doll, showing the demographic breakdown of this particular trend. She also wasn't the only person to view it as a little snuggly Paul McGann rather than by the character. Which makes me sound an even more obsessed fangirl than I am...I think...(although she did say something along the lines of "So you've got it bad, too?" which was either referring to my friend and fellow fan, who had spoken with her yesterday, or perhaps to herself. We're all McGannites here.)

 Also, she was truly sweet and kind. We talked about where I came from and I talked about going to school in D.C. and not being very certain what I'll do at the end of this, my last undergraduate semester. She compared it to stage fright and personalized the photo she signed for me with "Follow your dreams! You can do it!"

The Eights (3 cosplayers and a Plushie) were able to get our picture with her at the console later in the day:


As we were leaving, Daphne was talking with a TARDIS cosplayer who had designed her dress around Grace Holloway's in the movie. It was gorgeous.

I attended more panels this year than I did last. The Big Finish preview session fully explains why so many Whovians bemoan "Big Finish owns my soul, and also my wallet." Their 50th anniversary episode (is it still an episode when it's an audio serial?) preview induced chills and Feels and also a profound sense of relief that it isn't all in Stephen Moffat's hands. I liked some of Moffat's early episodes (by which I mean "The Empty Child" and "Curse of the Fatal Death" and no more--later on I even had the chance to articulate with another fan just why I don't think "Blink" is the greatest episode of all time ever! I love conventions!), but I don't trust him as a showrunner any further than he can resist throwing his characters off a rooftop.

So even if, as I fear, the 50th anniversary on TV turns out to be nothing but an orgy of Moffat's ego, with more absurd and empty twists in the convoluted, inconsistent plot than previous Doctor guest stars, at least I get to listen to a Classic multi-Doctor episode.

During a lull in the panels, our group walked to the In-n-Out burger. We figured at 4 in the afternoon there wouldn't be much of a line. We were wrong. On the bright side, the kitchen space was open and spotless, and we got to watch the potato-chopping and -frying mechanisms while waiting for our meals to arrive. If our food had been a little bit later they might have found us convinced to hire on; that looked fun.

Although the walk was much farther, and the wait much longer, than we expected, we ate on the way back and returned in time to catch the Classic companions panel. It felt a bit like eavesdropping on the conversation of really interesting people as they talked about what they were doing with their lives, so of course it was wonderful. Yet also a little strange to hear that, say, the person I still think of as Vislor Turlough has moved to New Zealand and is doing documentaries on wildlife poaching in Mozambique. And isn't ginger (I already knew, doesn't mean it's not traumatizing to see confirmed. We do not speak of the Eighth Doctor's wig.)

The next few hours passed...eventually...as we waited in line for the Masquerade. This paid off, though, as we got far better seats than we had last year after arriving late. We were reminded to have our badges out before being seated. Whether or not this was any reflection on the incident last year where, after arriving late, I discovered I had left my badge in a hotel room in a different hotel and had to run back for it, but not before having to be escorted inside the conference chamber to borrow my friend's room key, and just generally had an adventure and gave the volunteers a bit of one, too...

No such adventures this year, although many interesting costumes, more Gangham Style than I'd have expected, and a Sarah Jane Adventures skit that made everybody cry. Also the halftime show as the costumes were judged produced Ottergate, the in-joke of the convention. I'm glad I was there, because you really had to be there. I suppose the moral is twofold. 1, respect your audiovisual people, they are powerful beyond imagining. 2, OTTERS.

After the masquerade I and a friend were able to get into the comedy routine performed by a group of longtime masquerade veterans, but jetlag was catching up and I can't recall much of it, although I'm sure it's on YouTube somewhere. It was funny, I just can't summarize any of the skits well.

Sunday

Sunday was the day of meeting people in elevators. In fact, if I were to return to Gally (not sure my finances will allow it next year) I would seriously consider spending several hours doing nothing but riding up and down in elevators and seeing who I'd encounter. The first was Mark Strickson, ironically as I was heading up to my room to get the book I wanted autographed by him. I'd picked up a novelization of Mawdryn Undead at the Milwaukee airport bookshop on my way to the previous Gallifrey One and, well, you never know... When I did get the book signed I also wished him luck on his next trip to film nature documentaries, and mentioned my own upcoming trip to Ghana, which will include an environmental component I've been forewarned is extremely depressing. Not a conversation I'd ever have expected to have at a Whovian convention. Support the Nature Conservancy or the African Wildlife Foundation or the WWF or other such organization of choice, y'all ("if not for the charismatic megafauna, do it for Turlough!" may become my new battle cry.)

Speaking of causes, this year's charity auction raised funds for Alex's Lemonade Stand, addressing childhood cancer (chosen because the past two years have been extremely tough for Whovians, Who actors, and cancer--although it almost makes me wish they'd chosen a foundation fighting cancer in adults instead, given the closer link). My friend and I tried and failed to win a teddy bear signed by Paul McGann, but I did manage--accidentally--to win 3 Star Trek books. I heard Diane Duane's name mentioned, and as I've always meant to read Spock's World I thought I'd give it a go, expecting to accomplish nothing but push the winning bidder higher. It turned out nobody wanted to bid more than $10--well, it was a Whovian convention, not Trek--so now I have 3 Star Trek books. Spock's World is even better than I expected, and I expected it to be quite good, while the novelizations of series 2, 3, and 8 are a bit rushed but comfort me in my current absence of ready TV access. Reading Space Seed only after seeing The Wrath of Kahn is probably not the optimal way to go about it, but it worked fine for me (now, has it prepared me for the next Star Trek movie, is the million dollar question...and I can hear a great disturbance in the Force, or is it in subspace, as if a hundred thousand Trek fans winced and cried "I hope not!" at once).

After the auction, we attended a panel on Doctor Who merchandise. Amazing what they have tried to sell in the past...or are trying to sell now (destroyed Cassanda action figure? Really?), and also some interesting discussion of branding and packaging.

Plus, Plushie Eight made a new friend:

I'm not sure if the Adipose is cosplaying the 11th Doctor, or if the Eleventh Doctor had a bit of an adventure of his own...perhaps a chameleon circuit mishap? Either way, it's adorable. Now *that* should be liscened merchandise!
(Speaking of which, the effort to convince my friend to start a business making Plushie/Chibi Doctors/Paul Dolls has not yet borne much success, although many, many people were asking if she took commissions. For now, my Eight is an original. I'm very proud.)

Then came another Classic reunion panel, and closing ceremonies began. In between, we ran to get snacks at the con suite just before it closed. In our haste, I dropped Plushie Eight's flower and had to go back for it--usually I would not be so attached to plastic flowers, but ever since I worked as a cashier at Michael's craft stores I've begun collecting them, and this one would fit perfectly in the collection. Plus, it suited Plushie adorably. Going back, we wound up in an elevator with Deborah Watling, better known as Victoria, which was pretty cool. And then on our way down to closing ceremonies we met June Hudson, who not only though Plushie Eight was cute but was so charmed by him she took out her camera and snapped a photo! We spoke a bit as we walked to the convention room. She seemed to be having a great time and was plainly sorry the convention was coming to an end. "I'm almost forgetting it's not real," she said. I would have taken her for a fellow fan if she hadn't left us at the guests of honor only hallway. Not, of course, that you can't both work on the show and be a fan of it.

(I wasn't sure I knew her work at the time, but it turns out June Hudson is the designer of the awesome alt!Eight costume concepts which circulate among the Eighth Doctor Adventures novel fans. I'm not sure if anyone really loves the original costume except we cosplayers...and Daphne Ashbrook, who said she could see it as her kind of thing. A colorful coat and a vest--what's not to love?)

Monday
Last and...well, to be honest, least. I'm not certain that President's Day 2013 ever really happened. I spent it all going through airports, and I lost 3 hours because of time zone differences. I did get some time to sit in the absurdly comfy LAX waiting room chairs and read Daphne Ashbrook's biography (speaking of eavesdropping on the conversations of more interesting people...) Once I get the hang of them, I find airports cool places to be--busy, spacious, high-tech. Life was also easier for me because this time, with 3 extra hardcover books and a Edwardian-era costume in my suitcase, I chose to check my luggage. American Airlines let me do it for free and did not lose my bags at the O'Hare transfer. There wasn't much to do except pass the time, wait to board, board, wait to get off. Simple and direct.

Then we landed in DC, and while figuring out the Metro system to get home wasn't all that difficult, I found myself back in the thick of things with work, homework, and not a jelly baby to be seen.

Of course, jelly babies because of the coloring agent used in them are strictly speaking not supposed to be readily available in the United States...so of course nobody at Gallifrey One offered any to their fellow convention-goers...after all, asking "Would you like a jelly baby?" is merely an inquiry into one's emotional state, desiring or not desiring a candy. The fact that the questioner held a bag of said candies and allowed those they asked to reach in and take some without protest does not in any way imply an offer. *cough cough*

What are the morals of my story?
1. Check your luggage, if it's free and you can survive the small chance of having it misdirected. It's easier. (You also are--erm--less likely to accidentally knock fellow passengers while trying to wrestle a suitcase into the overhead storage. Which makes everyone happier, or so I'm told.)
2. African wildlife is a sad story. (Also I would not usually compare Mozambique and Ghana--Africa is an entire continent, after all, it's not homogeneous--except the issue pops up both places and if it's the conversational topic that comes to mind when talking to Mark Strickson, well.)
3. Everyone wants Plushie Doctors. And should you ever decide to make and sell them for a living, the best form of advertising is, of course, to give Therese one and have her walk around a convention with him. Call me.
4. Upon reflection, the Celestial Toymaker/merchandise panel taught me there isn't much you can make that's Doctor-Who themed that people won't be willing to buy.
Still. Plushie Doctors.
5. Do not place a bid in an auction unless you are prepared to win
6. Elevators. Watch this spot. Don't be creepy about it, obviously.
6a. No really, watch the elevators. There're 6 of them at the LAX Marriot, and sometimes the one that's headed where you want to go has just opened up right behind you.

On why I'm dressed as The Doctor in my Facebook profile photo

That's my personal Facebook profile photo, not the one on my new author's page--which I've recently created upon realizing that, if my only Facebook presence is my goofy personal profile, of course my goofy personal profile will start showing up anywhere Facebook touches.

Which is exactly what's happened.

Oh, don't fret (for that matter, I'm sorry to disappoint), there's no scandal here. I was just amused when a Google alert led me to this cool wordpress site dedicated to reviewing a short story daily, where they reviewed my dark fantasy "A Wizard of the Roads" on December 21st.

First off, I'm downright squeeful to see my writing was used somewhere to celebrate that day where non-Maya across the world panicked based on their misunderstanding of a sophisticated culture's complex calendar system and decided the only imaginable outcome was the world's magnetic poles flipping and everything going asplode. The actual Maya, from what I've heard, were themselves troubled by the fact that they were not permitted to practice their actual beliefs on their ancient cultural sites. Isn't life funny.

I see the above paragraph suddenly became a bit snippy. Sorry, there hit a point around the end of November where I began getting tired of telling people that, among other things, "No, the Maya really do exist in the modern day! They're not extinct! But that doesn't mean the world will go aspolde on December 21st!" A weariness I'm sure many other rational human beings shared. But that's in the past now, we'll never have to go through it again (at least not for another Long Count...good enough for me) and in the meantime, lots of fun end-of-the-world jokes were had at the expense of the foolish panicking non-Maya folk.

And in addition, there I am in all my Facebook profile glory, decked to the nines in an Eighth Doctor cosplay.

I know, I know, and you're right. The Doctor Who TV Movie wasn't even good.

 But that was not the fault of Paul McGann or his wardrobe. As it happens, both were present at the convention where that picture was taken, Gallifrey One 2012 in Los Angeles. Even as this post goes live, I'll be attending my second Gally. This is because--in part thanks to the incomparably gracious Mr McGann's presence (December 21st jokes aren't the only thing I can go squeeful about), and which makes up part of the reason I am keeping this peculiar picture as my image to the 1 billion users of Facebook and beyond--it was some of the most concentrated, unadulterated fun I have ever had in my life. There's something about being completely immersed in a subculture where you understand all of the references. It's like you already know everybody before you get to know them. It's fandom come to life--which could potentially be a horrible thing, I guess, but this is the *good* side of fandom that organizes and hosts conventions, and to someone who is usually just an online fandom lurker this was mind blowing.

The other reasons I'm keeping this picture as my profile image is that
-I am wearing a 19th century gentleman's waistcoat and green velvet frock coat (not actually 19th century; a friend sewed them for me, but still). This is the stuff Oscar Wilde fantasies are made of.
-I'm not usually one for photographs (I've just discovered, since the beginning of 2013, how to use both my netbook's webcam and the camera function on my archaic flip phone), so pictures of me are not dense on the ground. I'd venture to guess that the majority of the pictures of me online are of me in that costume, taking during 3 days in February 2012 (including the picture of Paul McGann kissing me on the hand after I sloppy fangirled all over him. Now you understand the 'incomparably gracious' epithet).

 I return from LA on the 18th, but as this will involve a flight across the entire continental United States I expect to be jetlagged and good for very little for the duration of next week. That doesn't mean I won't gamely try to keep abreast of things (in fact the night I wrote this post I drafted several others so I'll be able to keep updating this blog come heaven, hell, killer flu, or Cybermen invasion). Concerned readers should probably prepare for a second influx of cosplay pictures, though. Along with my Eighth Doctor plush toy this time.