This is when things get really cool.

First panel of the day (I think… memories are beginning to fade. Better get this stuff blogged out ASAP) was a ton of fun called Greetings From Hollyweird. It was that most prized (to entertainment industry wannabe me) of things, a panel where people who work in the industry here in Hollywood North show up at the convention to answer questions from the paltry peons like myself.

Sadly, only three of the seven guests listed showed up, and none of them was a writer. That was what I really wanted, to talk to a Real Live Honest To Goodness Television Writer, and get some tips for getting into the business from them, or at least to hope some of their magical “industry insider” pixie dust rubs off on me.

Instead, it was two artists (one storyboard guy just starting out and one highly experienced illustrator) and an actor who has had small roles in a bunch of sci fi stuff.

Still, it was a good talk. I just enjoyed feeling closer to what I want as my eventual dream job : to be a full time writer for TV. And they had cool insider stories about what it is like to work in Hollywood North and do arts for the biz.

Rather handily, the one who was an actor (sorry, I would love to credit you, but I am terrible with names) is also a theater producer, and exhorted us to pick up a mini-flyer for his latest production at the panel’s end, which was the perfect bridge between my desire to talk to them and my social anxiety. I went up, picked up a flyer, and asked them if they knew anything about the writing end of the game.

They didn’t really know much, but I think they saw how nervous and eager I am, so they told me to write stuff, film it, and put it on the Internet.

Which is pretty much what I plan to do if I can ever get my video camera connected to the computer again.

Next I went to Hospitality, where I met my nemesis : a big jar of miniature peppermint patties.

Whatever resolve I had to not be a bad diabetic exploded into a million shreds because I am an utter slave to anything with mint and chocolate together. They are both awesome apart, but put them together and something marvelous happens in my brain and I cannot get enough.

So I was a bad, bad boy last weekend. I hope my pancreas can forgive me.

After that, it was on to the second best thing I do every year at the con, the Elron and Faned awards. For those who do not know, the Elrons are the oldest science fiction anti-awards in the world, given to only the worst and dimmest in the world. They are administered by R. Graeme Cameron, who delivers them with such marvelous dry wit (and to universally deserving targets) that is an absolute delight to attend the ceremony. It is a ray of elegant hilarity and this year was no different.

And then there were the Faned awards, which R. Graeme Cameron also does. They are awards he bestows upon the best in Canadian fanzine publishing, both to recognize quality and to encourage their continued existence in this increasingly digital era.

And I won one!

Believe me, I was as surprised as you are if not more so. I had absolutely no idea it was coming. He gave me the award for best “LOC hack”, which is fanzine slang for someone who writes LOCs (letters of comment) to one or more fanzines.

And apparently, he liked me LOCs to BCSFAzine so much, he thought I deserved an award. And he had such nice things to say about me that it makes me blush to think of them! He said mine was the kind of letter writing that elevated the whole LOC field.

I swear, I am incandescent in the infrared right now, I am so flushed. I had no idea I was so humble. I suppose I always figured I could handle that sort of thing with flair or at least composure. But it was so unexpected! I was completely flummoxed. And, of course, incredibly pleased.

But at the same time, part of me wanted to disappear into a crack in the floor. Everyone was looking at me all of a sudden! Ah, the perils of being shy by nature. But perhaps it was for the best. If I had been ready for it, I might have hammed it up and given people the wrong impression.

Instead, I blushed like a courtesan and hopefully came across as adorable.

After that major wonder whammy, I went to a panel called You’ll Get My Books When You Pry Them From My Cold, Dead Hands. You can figure out what that was about. We had a good talk about real books versus eBooks, and whether they will stop printing books in our lifetime. The consensus was that print on demand will always be there, and that there’s a lot to be said for eBooks, but those of us who grew up loving books will never let ours go.

That’s certainly true for me. I have no real desire to get an eBook reader. I love books beyond all reason. I find libraries and book stores inherently happy places. I am not just a lover of reading, I am a bibliophile. I cannot imagine life without a book at my bedside and hundreds of more on shelves.

I will get an eBook reader eventually, I am sure. But I will never let my books go. I heart them. As a lonely child, books were my only friends.

And you do not give up on friends just because something cooler comes along.

After that, I went to the Turkey Readings, which are, officially, the most fun I have all year. Briefly, the panelists read terrible sci fi and/or fantasy novels, and people can bid to stop the reading, and then others can bid to start it again.

While this is going on, volunteers from the audience act out the story, taking on the various roles. And being the ham I am, I volunteered a few time, and had a blast, and best of all, made the audience laugh.

And for a comedy nerd like me, that laughter is the best drug in the world.

After that, we went to dinner with some friends at a nearby Red Robin, and then it was back to Richmond to sleep in our own beds once more, and dream of next year.

And that was about it, really.

Tomorrow, I resume having to think about what to write again.