(Picture credit: google images)
I've had an up and down couple of weeks, as noticed in my last couple of posts, but Saturday seems to have offered a condensed version of the whole month's endeavours.
I got a rejection from
The New Yorker. Having made it my goal to aim higher, I found I can fall further and still get up again. And it's a good story and it was a good rejection, so plenty still to milk from the experience. Getting a story in
The New Yorker just became more appealing than ever.
I went to the Armageddon Expo, for a dose of all things comics and costume. I took my daughter, and we queued for over an hour in front of the funniest trio I have ever heard. They offered running commentary on everyone's costumes and were generally the highlight of the whole afternoon. I said hullo to Adrian Kinnaird, bought Ant Sang's graphic novel,
Shaolin Burning, and the very friendly Karl Wills'
Princess Seppuku and the Hunt for Robot -X. I got welted by a huge plastic weapon strapped to someone's back - as they turned, it almost took me out! And velcro'd to a large passing pseudo-soldier. And charged by a large lady who appeared to be on the brink of a crowd induced panic but had in all likelihood just caught a glimpse of a dalek and wanted an autograph, almost exterminating me in the process. And my daughter got scammed by the sweet n' salty pop-corn vendor.
I came home to find an email informing me I made the shortlist of
The Royal Society of New Zealand Manhire Prize. It was a fun thing to enter because I got to choose a nom de plume - mine was Scott Falcon. I'll send a hand written poem to the person who can work out how I came up with that name. I'm thrilled to have made the shortlist, as the entries are "judged on their literary merits AND
the extent to which they engage a non-scientific audience." Which is the sweetest part of all.
