bad signal
WARREN ELLIS

I am returned, to grey skies and
human temperatures.  Seems I
didn't escape unscathed, and may
have a touch of the Convention
Crud (which I've seen referred to
elsewhere as San Diego SARS),
probably the same crap that had
Zoe screaming for antibiotics over
Twitter a few days ago.  Took six
doses of Clarityn before I realised
it might not be a flight-induced
allergy attack after all.  I'm probably
pissing raw anti-histamine right now.

So here I am outside a pub, after
not enough sleep, reflecting a bit on
the mad eight days I just survived.

It has to be said, right off the bat,
that Avatar Press were fantastic.
Excellent flights, a limo from LAX
to my San Diego hotel, superb
security coverage -- I even had
security posted on me when I wanted
a post-talk drink outside the hotel
to recover -- a fine hotel room.  The
Omni, by the way, is recommended
for its restaurant and service.  And
there's nothing quite like all the
bar staff saying "hello, Warren"
when you walk in, even if your guests
start wondering if you're an alkie.
The schedule was exactly as
gruelling as I worried it'd be, and my
vision and my voice blew out, but
I was looked after very well.

And,Christ, the number of books I
signed.  Thousands.  And that's with
the number of books per visitor
pretty strictly capped.  Apologies
to all those people who stuck out
their paw for a handshake, but I
learned at Heroes Con that shaking
the hand of every visitor is fatal --
by the Saturday at Heroes Con,
I was having to stick my hand in 
sinks full of ice, it was so pulped.  If
I'd done it at SD, I would have ended
up shaking the hands of some three
thousand people.

Barely got to see Templesmith and
a hundred other people I really
wanted to talk to: but when I wasn't
at the booth, I was in meetings, or,
when lucky, sleeping (which is how
I missed out on drinks with the Living
Dead Girls -- sorry, Amber and all).

The one question I was asked, I can
answer here: yeah, it'll be some 
years before I go back.  It would have
been better if my de-stressing pre-
con trip hadn't turned into a 
Ballardian nightmare of flooded
England and motorway gridlock.
But, no, one San Diego a decade is
fine by me.  It's just too much work
crammed into too short a time.

More later.  For me, it's now more
Red Bull, a trip to the chemist's,
some food, and more sleep.

-- W

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