[August – September 2024 Blog]
Glasgow, Scotland, August 8th-12th 2024
My first Worldcon exceeded my already high expectations. It really was a blast. I’ve blogged enough about Cons recently, so I’ll just report two highlights and a lowlight.
Highlight #1: Los Angeles won the bid for Worldcon 2025! So convenient.
Lowlight: Lezli Robyn, my long-suffering editor, was put through some more, even longer suffering. Her two-flight, 12-hour journey turned into a 4-flight, 47-hour nightmare, due to a storm in her home state. Eventually she arrived, after two long layovers, in London, to be told that her next flight was to Edinburgh (not Glasgow), leaving in an hour—but from an airport the other side of London. An alternative was found, and her kind friend sent a car to pick her up and bring her to Glasgow in time for the CAEZIK publisher’s dinner …
Highlight #2: … At which I got to meet the brilliant Christina P. Myrvold, the cover artist for my New Rock series. A Norwegian, Christina lives in Glasgow. She is now in very high demand, from clients such as the Marvel Universe, but she still loves working for CAEZIK on book covers. We’ll be revealing her cover for New Rock New Realm, book two in the series, any day now.
The Bonnacon:
My final panel was a balloon-style debate. The four panellists had to champion a mythical beast to be brought “back to life”, Jurassic Park-style. I chose the remarkable Bonnacon—and took the opportunity to sing its praises in epic poetry (okay, doggerel, but who counts?). All illustrations are from medieval bestiaries.
An Ode to the Bonnacon (in Video and Written Form)
An Ode to the Bonnacon
The bonnacon’s a gentle soul
There’s never been a calmer
The body of an antelope
The long neck of a llama
The head that of a baffled sheep
Atop which small horns curl
And circle back upon themselves
The look that of an earl
When spoken to in rhyming slang
Myopic, blank, confounded
But do not be deceived, because
The bonnacon, when hounded
Farts clouds of flame, and hoses fire
From out its anal sphincter
A burning lake of red-hot shite
Fries any beast who’ll think-ter
Creep up upon yon bonnacon
(Whose flesh is highly rated)
Instead of feasting on it, he
Will be incinerated
The bonnacon’s a lovely lad
In Tartary you’ll find him
He loves to have his long ears scratched
Just don’t creep up behind him
The bonnacon’s a bonnie lass
You’ll never meet a kinder
She’ll let you stroke her silky mane
Just never stand behind her
O bonnacon, sweet bonnacon
I’d love to see you grazing
The leafy fields of Tartary
In dappled sunlight lazing
I’d settle back and watch, and hope
For it would be amazing
To see some hapless predator
Run shrieking from you, blazing
Engulfed in flames fired from your arse
To contemplate its blunder
Before it sizzles to a crisp
’Twould truly be a wonder
A wondrous beast, the bonnacon
Great Nature’s great attainment
Its form, its face, its superpower:
Oh yes—that’s entertainment.
