I spent the last week in Florida, and it was all right. In Tampa, I visited with my uncle, who watches MSNBC on his TV while double-checking with CNN on his phone, and my poor grandmother who in her dementia knows enough to talk about how she needs to die very soon. On the plus side, I did eat at the very nice Ulele restaurant and have a drink in the very beautiful if inexplicably empty and surely haunted Floridian Palace.
And then it was on to Orlando and ICFA, where I did a reading despite there not being any copies of I Am Providence in the dealer's room. (I recommended entering the dealer's room, whipping out one's phone, and buying it online right under the dealer's nose.)
Then I got seriously sick. Walking flu. I did manage to show off some taiji to a couple of ICFAites with an interest in it, but otherwise spent most of the time in my room. A lot of other people reported migraines and upset stomachs and whatnot. It was bad enough that I just Googled Legionnaires' disease, and used my braincase avatar on this post. (What I have doesn't sound as awful as LD though.)
I felt bad enough that at the Orlando airport I read the wrong boarding pass and ended up on the wrong side of the airport, necessitating two trips through security...which worked out as that is how I discovered my plane was going to be delayed for an hour or more. I floated the idea of just leaving tomorrow, but Virgin America said it would be best to at least get to LA, even if stuck at LAX. (Easy for them to say; they don't work in America's worst big-city airport!) At the gate I was told that the LAX-SFO plane was also delayed due to fog, so everything would work out...except for the thirty-minute layover becoming a three-hour one. Then on the plane, I checked various flight tracker websites, all of which said that the LAX-SFO would be leaving on time, stranding me and my flu symptoms in LAX till 7am at least. I sent out some complaining tweets and looked for a hotel room, but thankfully just as we were about to land was told by the in-flight crew that the plane to SFO was being held for us. Very nerve-wracking.
While in Florida I started reading an exciting Florida book, The Night Ocean, by Paul La Farge, which is about Lovecraft and his young Floridian friend R. H. Barlow. Is it weird that I am getting into Floridiana, or are the rents just too damn high in the California Bay Area? At any rate, I just put in an order for the collected Lovecraft-Barlow letters.
Speaking of Lovecraft and high rents, there are just three days left on the Lovecraftian Literature StoryBundle—we've sold 925 copies and would love to hit 1000. Award-winning anthologies, actual attempts at theology, two of my books, and much more, for a mere fifteen dollars.
So check it out!
And then it was on to Orlando and ICFA, where I did a reading despite there not being any copies of I Am Providence in the dealer's room. (I recommended entering the dealer's room, whipping out one's phone, and buying it online right under the dealer's nose.)
Then I got seriously sick. Walking flu. I did manage to show off some taiji to a couple of ICFAites with an interest in it, but otherwise spent most of the time in my room. A lot of other people reported migraines and upset stomachs and whatnot. It was bad enough that I just Googled Legionnaires' disease, and used my braincase avatar on this post. (What I have doesn't sound as awful as LD though.)
I felt bad enough that at the Orlando airport I read the wrong boarding pass and ended up on the wrong side of the airport, necessitating two trips through security...which worked out as that is how I discovered my plane was going to be delayed for an hour or more. I floated the idea of just leaving tomorrow, but Virgin America said it would be best to at least get to LA, even if stuck at LAX. (Easy for them to say; they don't work in America's worst big-city airport!) At the gate I was told that the LAX-SFO plane was also delayed due to fog, so everything would work out...except for the thirty-minute layover becoming a three-hour one. Then on the plane, I checked various flight tracker websites, all of which said that the LAX-SFO would be leaving on time, stranding me and my flu symptoms in LAX till 7am at least. I sent out some complaining tweets and looked for a hotel room, but thankfully just as we were about to land was told by the in-flight crew that the plane to SFO was being held for us. Very nerve-wracking.
While in Florida I started reading an exciting Florida book, The Night Ocean, by Paul La Farge, which is about Lovecraft and his young Floridian friend R. H. Barlow. Is it weird that I am getting into Floridiana, or are the rents just too damn high in the California Bay Area? At any rate, I just put in an order for the collected Lovecraft-Barlow letters.
Speaking of Lovecraft and high rents, there are just three days left on the Lovecraftian Literature StoryBundle—we've sold 925 copies and would love to hit 1000. Award-winning anthologies, actual attempts at theology, two of my books, and much more, for a mere fifteen dollars.
So check it out!