2002 Stories.Comvention

Leaving Athens
         I had just returned to Athens from a week long excursion seeing my honey near Chicago. It's a good thing I decided to pick up my rental car early, because they wanted extra info. I spent all day fetching lease, pay stub, and extra ID.
         Out of time to make something for the creative auction, I hit the local mall with a target price in mind. However, I wanted to get something I could personalize and therefore add some value to. I packed a single bag of stuff (guys can live out of a single bag for weeks) into my car and hit the sack. I woke up at dawn, cleared my email, then left town at 7 AM exactly.

         There are around 640 miles between Athens (Georgia) and Baltimore (Maryland). Doing the math, I would've had to go 80 mph without stopping to get there in 8 hours. So my best case was arriving in time to start registration. Except I had to stop for gas, food, and bathroom. And I had to slow down for construction, which as everyone knows only occurs one mile out of every three.
         I was getting nervous as the day wore on. Would I get there in time? But in Charlotte I figured out that I'd probably make it around 4:45 PM. Except that the reality of the wretched state of Maryland intruded on my daydreams. The traffic was at a grandma's crawl for ten miles before and after D.C.
         When I cruised into Baltimore, I followed the directions exactly as provided. Turns out the hotel was very easy to find that way. Luckily I missed the baseball game traffic. I didn't want to search the parking decks, and I was already late for registration. So I enjoyed the valet parking.


Checking In
         At 6 PM I strode into the Radisson Hotel lobby. I work in a Best Western, so I was noting the features and shortcomings. Okay, just the features - there were no shortcomings. I remembered to give the front desk my real name, so they knew what to look up in the computer.
         I spotted a strange and likely group in the cocktail lounge, but I had to drop off my bags first. On the 15th floor I met deanadon who was cleaning up broken glass. Great, I was rooming with a bearded guy who was destroying hotel property!

         Actually he turned out okay. I recognized the screen name on his badge, and we chatted. Funny guy, Donald. He finds humor in the situations which surround him. For example, the survival guide indicated that we could wear whatever we want Saturday on the town, though a note from the StoryMistress said to wear the yellow Stories.com t-shirts that came in our goodies bag. (Well, came in his goodies bag anyway - I had missed registration!)
         But rather than being confused, Donald chooses to be amused. And instead of being reserved, he chooses to share his findings. In company with strangers, both of these are excellent traits.


Meeting People
         Back downstairs, I found the remnants of the registration table - abandoned! So I made my way back to the odd carnival at the bar, and yep, those kooky clowns were the Stories.com people. I only recognized one person: earthwoman. But she was buried in conversation with a group that had no empty chairs, so I found the nearest table. Fortunately for me, some friendly-looking people were sitting there.
         The first non-bearded people I met were scribe1 and knight life . The English chap and I sat back while Elaine steered our conversation in her personable and friendly manner. I chimed in every now and then when my sense of humor couldn't contain its eagerness. Fortunately it was glad for company and didn't bomb with my usual silly puns.
         Turns out I was the only freak at the carnival without a nametag. All around me were people swarming with badges that gave their Stories.com screen names. Seeing those handles was convenient for me, but I got quite tired of saying my own name with every new hand I shook. I needed a badge!

         Then an albino midget and a huge lumberjack lady introduced themselves to me. "Hello," said the lumberjack lady with a sweet smile that took 40 years off her face, "I'm the The StoryMistress ."
         "And I," piped the midget, "am the KeyMaster." The lumberjack lady elbowed him, and he tried again: "I mean, I'm the The StoryMaster ."
         Umm yeah, right, I thought. "Hey, great to meet you!" I beamed. "Listen, I missed registration. Can you get me a badge thingy?"
         But no, they couldn't, so I knew they were impostors. They walked off in dejection.


Dinner Beginner
         I didn't get my badge until dinner, when the real SMs put in an appearance. And I mean that literally: put in an appearance. The StoryMaster was projected holographically through photo cells embedded in the hotel ceiling, and The StoryMistress was remotely controlling a walking robot in a dress with a computer-screen happy face.
         But whether I'd ever get to meet the real SMs or not, I sat down next to GoCartCherub- St Louis U . The seat next to her was empty and her smiling cherubic cheeks were beckoning. I didn't know her, but between my masochistic sense of humor and her fascinating personality, I fit in at the table.
         Then someone brought me my badge. All was well in the world.


Little Conversations
         Dinner was fine and tea was available, so it didn't really matter what I ate. I'm easy to please that way. I was enjoying my conversation with GoCartCherub- St Louis U who goes to school in Chicago. I don't know where the "go cart" comes from, but cherub fits this intelligent young woman nicely. Her smile was exuberant and held my attention. I had to mention my girlfriend so I'd remember that I wasn't available, no matter how interesting she was!
         Then someone zipped over to me, shook my hand, and gave me a hug. Whah? It was 1amme thanking me for helpful reviews. Hunh? She was a bursting dam of energy, and suddenly I wished I could remember a specific item of hers. But I've given over 1000 reviews on this site! So I returned happiness and respect as best I could, but soon enough she took her sunshine somewhere else. I'd get to talk to her later, though.
         A couple young ladies who shall (for now) remain unnamed were doing a TV Guide crossword puzzle. We all wrote down questions to ask The StoryMaster , but these two scribbled the clues to the crossword answers they were missing! So when a phantom voice issued from the stage pretending be The StoryMaster answering questions, the clues only baffled the would-be emcee.


Be Like Mic
         After a tear-jerking tribute from The StoryMistress 's personal robotic representative, we had some people go to town on the microphone. There were all kinds of acts, of which the following are but some:
         deanadon delivered a couple jokes on the spot that he'd just made up there at the convention. Just the same humorous things he'd been pointing out all night, only to the entire audience at once. He was naturally at ease speaking to everyone, and the lines were well-delivered.
         David J IS Death & Taxes and Pam sang the Sonny & Cher duet "I've Got You Babe" with some additional ad-libbing. I knew it took courage to get up there and do that, but I couldn't tell if David was full of liquid courage or if he just had Sonny's body language down pat!

         I (Jian~Ashen ) recited two poems. The first was "Arizona Jean"  [E] which didn't go so well because it's not a straight-forward one you can understand while hearing it. But the second, "Turbulence"  [ASR], went great because it's one of those that naturally sounds good out loud.
         Mark C Bradley read some poems, too. Just an hour before, he was a figure curled up asleep in the darkness of my room! But that vampire's henchman told him the daylight was gone, so he arose to entrance the room with his words. We all must've been like a buffet for that fiend! ;)
         shaps sang a song ("Hero" by Nickelback) which I had just heard on the radio during the drive over. Nice voice, though maybe a little soft considering the size of the room. Made me think we should all clamor for some karaoke next year.
         6149 led us all in a weird clapping thing while he did a prolonged chant/sing story-song that we thought was over several times before we finally heard the punchline. Funny not only for the ending of the story, but also because we were all thinking this was supposed to be a solemn thing, yet it ended comically.

         Zoo - Salted and Roasted and pathrhino combined talents for a presentation. The Duck plucked at his guitar while Rhino rapped out an Eminem blurb. I'm not a fan of Eminem, so I was glad when he went to original stuff, an ad-libbed Stories.com mad rhyme romp.
         rangeric is a fan of the singer-songwriters. His favorite is Gordon Lightfoot, but he played some other person (Dylan?). Then he did an original, which was very spiritual and awesome in its gentleness. I say it's spiritual because it could be considered religious, but the song wasn't overt or pushy, therefore its message shone through: "Invalid Item" 
         MOO for President gave us all a great story on how the site has helped his and Bovine Bessie's writing. He didn't get booed off the stage, but he sure got mooed! Moo!
         scribe1 had everyone rolling with tales of her wacky "Invalid Item"  . Most people thought some parts of that were fiction, but nay. Written in words exactly fitting to the mood.


Live Campfire
         Then about a dozen people did a live campfire. Woohoo, my idea turned into reality! Led by dingolord, here's the rough gist of that freakish story:
         Peter was a bunny afraid of his neighbor dog.
         So he went to buy a full-sized cow suit and drank tequila.
         Store owner Marlene thought he was nuts and ought to be tested for drugs.
         Peter had to pee in a cup and went to jail.
         In jail he met Santa Claus. What was Santa in for?
         Apparently Santa's elves were really little kids in a sweat shop.
         But Santa's shocker: Peter wasn't a bunny, he was really a duck.
         Peter the once-bunny, cowsuit-clad duck started to fall in love with Bessie.
         Then I got a headache trying to follow the storylines here!
         Dingo did a great job trying to tie the threads back together every time the story came around, but the others just wouldn't make it easy on him.


Zzzzzz
         Having moved my stuff from the 15th floor to my proper room on the 8th, I fell right to sleep without saying much to my roomies Auric, Elmo, and Pathrhino. Sorry fellas, but I barely remember even getting up the elevator. All that driving and the convoluted campfire logic finally caught up to me.


Wake up!
         I awoke to find out I'd slept the whole night on half of an otherwise empty bed. Sonorous snores from a cot and the floor reminded me that there are alternatives, albeit uncomfortable ones, to beds. Aww too bad, I didn't get to bump elbows with lyriclyblind!
         Saturday we all dressed in our yellow Stories.Com t-shirts. Groups of people went to the harbor, the museum, and other tourist stuff I missed out on. Instead I remembered that I needed to register for classes! So HawaiianPeach accompanied me on a quest for (Camelot? no!) a Kinko's copy shop. There we would undoubtedly find internet access at outrageous per-minute prices.


Everything's Peachy
         The novelty of walking around that block of Baltimore wore off in about 3 minutes. Because the baseball stadium is so close, there were only hotels and parking garages nearby. Oh yeah, and lots of copy shops that weren't Kinko's. We stopped to ask directions many times, and the friendly locals all confidently pointed us to places that were just copy shops with no net access.
         So you can picture us, wandering around every non-scenic block in Baltimore in bright yellow shirts. We looked like a couple of advertisers who had run out of flyers. But that's okay, since I got to talk to a pretty redhead and fellow Georgian walking beside me. Good-looking and from the same state - why that made her "georgious"!
         The funniest part of the morning was that we came upon a block whose shops catered to the adult population of the city. John checks the rating of this article. Okay, so we turned around in failure.


Must..have..internet
         We eventually found the Kinko's and inserted credit cards to satisfy our cravings for online activity. Peachy checked her email and I checked on my Fall semester. I figured out that with all the conventioners missing three days of Stories.Com, we failed to claim a total of nearly 2500 gift points by not logging in!


Common ground
         Back at the hotel, all the smarter people had already left in groups to hit the town. But I found 6149 in the lobby, and we chatted. David is the editor for the Spiritual Newsletter, and I'm a game programmer in my spare time. We managed to find common ground! We talked about ways to put the "unity" back in community. That is important for spiritual newsletters, and also for online game environments. As we sat chatting in the lobby, all the guests checking out of the hotel couldn't help but see in bright yellow: Stories.Com!
         Grrrrwll. My tummy was rumbling, so I found my roomie Mark C Bradley and headed for lunch. I didn't remember anything nearby, and room service was way expensive. So we went downstairs to the hotel's Lord Baltimore restaurant. Lucky us - the place was nearly empty. We found great food at prices similar to Applebee's or Bennigan's while we chatted about chicks and poetricks.


Joking Around
         Back in the room we talked and rested, knowing it would be a busy evening. pathrhino and lyriclyblind returned, and through joking around we figured out the reason behind the yellow t-shirts! You see, The StoryMaster had flipped his top and was going to be on a roof nearby popping caps in people with yellow shirts! Ask Rhino about the time he rapped in a country bar.
         Then we got a special treat, since 1amme showed up and demonstrated her extraordinary skill at ironing men's clothes. Plus skill at embarrassing us poor boys with humorous comments that only safely married women can make!


Formal Wear
         Soon it was time to start putting on our formal clothes. It sure was tough to leave that hotel room after watching Rhino and Elmo walk out like movie stars. But eventually I did wander down to the pre-dinner cocktail reception. Staggering! Everyone had gone from Stories.Com t-shirts to who's-getting-married formalwear!
         Luckily the formal jacket I borrowed from my brother fit okay. All the guys were macked out and the ladies' dresses kept me from blinking for at least a half hour. Everyone did a double-take and cheered when scribe1 came in possibly the best dress of all. Lady in red! If I hadn't known better, I would've declared her to be the red-cased StoryMistress on the spot.
         As for the real The StoryMistress , she was reminding all the attendees why a black dress is a classic! After I fainted from witnessing her glory, I followed a trail of wet footprints and found a penguin sitting in The StoryMaster 's chair. Odd, because most hotels charge for pet fees.


Feed me!
         So, dinner. Thanks again to whomever set up the tables. They sat me with a bunch of good-looking women. "The young table," said The StoryMistress . That made me feel better, since I don't feel as young anymore as I want to be.
         First course was a salad, though not your usual iceberg-lettuce variety. This thing had leaves of some sort, but they tasted fine. Plus I got to talk with interesting people like Kel and †Mrs. Heather Renae while munching on cucumber slices and buttered roll.


Item Browsing
         The real pre-dinner diversion was set up near all the tables. All the items which would be auctioned in the morning were on display. Everyone took turns milling around them, pointing to the wide variety of tangible goods, and wondering what the heck was in Zoo - Salted and Roasted 's mystery egg!
         There were all sorts of items, including framed artwork, knitwork and needlework, user-written books, gift baskets, souvenir crafts, and a baseball bat from lyriclyblind in case anyone wanted to go pinch-hit for the Baltimore Orioles.


And The Winner Is...
         Dinner was great, as were all the meals served by the Radisson Hotel. I treated myself to an amoretto sour while The StoryMaster announced awards during dinner. Most were real-life Awardicons, plaques made by The StoryMistress , handed out to people for various silly achievements. You know, First 10 to Sign Up for the Convention, Most Distance Travelled (knight life ), Nicest Guy in the World (6149), etc.
         Somebody won a free subscription to The Writer magazine. At first I thought whatever but later I was amazed when I read the free copy I got. They had some actually useful writing tips in there. And they broke down the Romance genre into very recognizable sub-genres, which really helps you focus on what your story goal if you're writing a romance.

         But even cooler was the drawing for a complete POD package from Infinity Publishing (a true $400 value). I read through their information booklet, and their publishing deal is as smooth and genuine as I can imagine. Talking with jfharnish confirmed to me that his company keeps the author first in mind and doesn't try to take advantage of people. I looked over their contract, and indeed it erased my considerable skepticism.
         If you're thinking of publishing, Infinity's quality, price, and terms are unbeatable. I'm overjoyed that GoCartCherub- St Louis U won, and not just a discount, but the whole deal! I've been considering taking advantage of Infinity myself soon, if I can put together something I think is good enough to sell.


Play That Funky Music
         After The StoryMaster finally gave up his microphone, the DJ got back to playing some music. To my surprise, lots of people got up and started dancing!
         You might think that we're all shy from sitting behind computer screens writing, and you wouldn't be wrong. But apparently if you feed us and mix us together in a ballroom, we'll hit the dance floor. There was some boogy-woogy going on as well as line-dancing and the inevitable Macarena. I laugh because I know what the words to that song mean!

         I left early to change out of my monkey suit. Too bad! because I heard there was a lot more dancing after I left, including some serious rug-cutting by my roomies.
         In fact, later that night Mark C Bradley became nauseous. Too much dessert followed by footloosing on the dance floor, I suppose. After making sure he got the rest he needed, I read myself to sleep.


Brunch
         Knowing that I'd have to leave in a hurry, I packed my stuff early in the morning. I kept only my auction number and notes on what items I wanted to bid on. The brunch was probably the best meal I had all weekend, honestly. Their selection of meats and cheeses for sandwiches was awesome, plus lots of naughty cake slices available. Don't come to a Stories.Com convention if you're on a strict diet! The hotel staff had saved the best for last.


Auction Time!
         While we snacked, the gift auction began in earnest. The StoryMaster played auctioneer, starting items at a low price (usually $2) and working his way incrementally up. First to go were frostpe's hooklatch mats. I wanted the "cat" one, but it went over my $15 plan.
         The next item I wanted began the first bidding war. It was a framed, handpainted poem "Invalid Item"  by haizey. I bid it up but ercole kept going higher and eventually won it at $130! I was thinking of going to 160, but I really needed gas money to get home. ;)

         However, I did acquire the Mobius Strip neck-warmer knitted GoCartCherub- St Louis U . Very nice dark colors, and it'll serve me well when I move north! Other items I wanted but couldn't stay for: "The Vigil" leopard oil painting by David J IS Death & Taxes , "Dreams & Secrets" painted book-box by The StoryMistress , and a framed & signed "Invalid Item"  by rangeric.
         Things I did get to see, though! lyriclyblind unsuccessfully tried to win his Yankees bat back from waterbaby . The all-out bidding war for Miyon 's painted rock ended at $400! My "bedside basket" was won by linda622 because I remind her of her son.


I'm Out
         But despite all that fun, I had to skedaddle. With an 11-hour drive ahead of me to be on time for a night's work, there was no way I could stay another two hours. I couldn't escape cleanly, though. The elevator doors were visible through the ballroom's double-doors. So The StoryMaster caught me in a handshake, and I waved to everyone on the way out. After a final smile to passer-by Stormy Lady , and I was outta there.
         In summary, I attended the first ever Stories.Com convention. I'll be going to the next one. Going once, going twice... I'm sold on it.