Which Was Posted a Day Late, Due to Technical Difficulties.

Today [Saturday] I went to the increasingly awesome Stumptown Comics Fest. It's increasing in size as well as in awesome, so I found that the hour and a half I'd allotted for the event was barely enough after all. Stumptown is not your standard Marvel/DC convention, but an artist-oriented show that highlights a lot of new, unique, and self-published work. So the spandex and mutant boobs were vastly outnumbered by the journal comics, the social satire comics, the comics-spoofing comics, the cute-yet-disturbing comics, and a lot of stuff that's just plain unclassifiable. I got to chat with a lot of amazing artists, some of whom I've never heard,* and some whose work I've admired for a while (Amy Kim Ganter! Bill Mudron! Dylan Meconis!). And I brought home a bag full of postcards and business cards and small, inexpensive books to peruse at leisure.

*My two favorite discoveries were Aron Nels Steinke, a Portlander who just started drawing comics this year and already has a Xeric grant, and Hilary Florido, whose scribbled-at-work journal comic made me wish for a do-over on those tedious receptionist temp gigs. I can't wait to see what these talented people come up with next. (Suggestion: real web pages?)

Another wonderful discovery: this sign.

You get such a range of personalities at these things. I noticed I was really just way more interested in the work of artists who were friendly and eager to talk about their work. I think what it boils down to is that I prefer interacting with people who make me feel comfortable -- not something I'm proud of, but something I share with the majority of humanity. Sorry, shy cartoonists! That glazed "you're not going to buy anything, I can tell" look, or just awkward silence as I look over the art, generally sends me shuffling away embarrassed. On the other hand, I bought several cheaper things that weren't all that appealing to me, simply because the artist was so enthusiastic about it.

(Speaking of enthusiastic, friendly and eager to talk about their work, I'm proud to say there was one artist there who knew my name. Evan Nichols didn't have a booth this year, but he was doing the rounds, promoting his comic and making friends right and left.)

I had the chance to apply the above lesson in salesmanship to my subsequent shift at a booth of baked goods, used baby clothes, and holiday sundries at a fundraising fair (Holiday Fair, for those who are familiar with it). This was good fun too, primarily because I got to see a number of people I know but don't cross paths with often. Notable among these were the still-feisty-though-great-with-child Gina and her husband, who kept me greatly amused for at least an hour.

And then I met up with another old and rarely-seen friend, Athelstan, for coffee, rambling conversation, and a stroll in the fragile autumn sunshine. Yes, that's three unconnected blogging friends in one day! Hat trick!

In Which I'm Still Looking for the UN-STOP Button.

After a long drive out to North Plains and back, and a ridiculous delay involving a plug with the wrong number of prongs, we finally have a working stove again.

It's very high-tech, with a panel of buttons and lights and a digital clock. And powerful. I've never owned a stove that was so incredibly powerful. You think I'm exaggerating? One of the buttons is labeled STOP TIME.

I'd better download the manual for this thing.

In Which My Blog is a Year and Two Days Old.

I couldn't tell you exactly why I haven't been blogging lately. I can't blame it all on LibraryThing, though it has occupied many happy hours (and I still have plenty of books left to add). Distractions and diversions abound....

The roommate and I went in together on Season Two of The Office. This is an embarrassing thing for me to admit publicly: that I am hooked on a TV show, an American TV show that is not Mystery Science Theater. But it's true. (I still only watch it on DVD though -- must hang on to some semblance of pride.)

My kitchen range has always been a little iffy, but it recently became dramatically apparent that it was no longer safe to use. I've been scouring craigslist and making calls, but it has taken a while to find just the right replacement. In the meantime, my roommate moved a large upholstered chair into the space vacated by the stove. It is now officially The Best Seat in the House.

I finally got to hear my cousin play with her band. They were good and loud, dark and dancey, despite the limitations of the venue's sound system. She's a brilliant violinist, and it was good to see her in her element: poised on the stage, reeling out vast swaths of fevered sound, so passionate and so controlled.

It's almost NaNoWriMo time again! Yikes... and hooray! Chris Baty, the founder of this astonishingly successful event, came back to Powell's to get everyone all hyped up for November. He's not a very polished speaker, but he always seems to have the audience in the palm of his hand by the time he's finished with them. I bought his book this year; I figured I owe him that much at least. After all, if it weren't for him, I'd still just be intending to write a novel, instead of preparing to begin my third.

I had a four-day weekend earlier this month, which coincided nicely with the 20th anniversary celebration of Grey's Harbor Historical Seaport and the last four days its two ships were in Washington before heading south for the winter. Is there a better way to celebrate Columbus Day than by sailing? Maybe by paying a visit to the Queen of Spain, or embarking on a series of unsuccessful commercial ventures? Well, anyway, sailing it was. It was very wonderful and very strange to be back on the Chieftain again. Some childish part of me had believed, no matter what I told it, that returning to my ship would mean returning to the way things were this summer, and that part of me was sorely disappointed. But there were plenty of new and different things and people to delight me. And there were things I had forgotten about to be discovered anew: like the way the wideness of the sea and sky can iron out rumpled spirits, and shrink you down to your proper size in the order of things.

I'll bet you can guess what my next novel is about.

In Which at Least I Have a Scapegoat.

I was going to get a lot of things done while my roommate was out of town for a week, but I didn't.

I blame LibraryThing.