Redemption for Pen

Friday: a bit of scurrying about in the morning as we had completely neglected to do any prep for going away for the weekend (except compiling a selection of books for Boy). However, we got our moneysworth* from TrafficMaster as there were completely buggered sections of the M25 and M11 which we bypassed completely on the way to Norwich.

Lunch, with both Brats, at a rather nice pub where the menu included a chicken supreme stuffed with shrimp in chilli sauce. Good stuff. Bun was in a dancing competition on Sunday, so we contented ourselves with taking Boy to Coventry for Redemption '09, the awesomest of conventions. (As someone described it to me on Saturday evening, "A Science Fiction Convention with Women". And, not coincidentally, a generous dose of fanfic-based discussion groups.) Driving in Coventry is a minor nightmare - it has the smallest ring road imaginable, so that we got *on* in the right place but failed to notice that the exit we needed was, oh, fifty yards along. Never mind, all was eventually sorted and there we were, at the con.

I *like* Redemption so much. It's such a relaxed place. There are so many discussion groups, with smart people who know much of their subject, whatever it may be - from Doctor Who in mind-boggling detail, to Lois McMaster Bujold's wonderful books, to self-sufficient spaceships, to 'Realism in Slash' (although, sadly, neither of the guys running that one was circumcised, so my plea for information didn't get quite as much as I'd hoped). A dress code ranging from full Klingon Warrior to underwear. Quite a few people I recognised from the last two Redemptions, too, and some great fun conversations. Also, nopseud and archie_gremlin, which was particularly splendid.

I was slightly alarmed when my beloved Beast arrived in time to sit next to me for the Realism in Slash panel. But he survived the experience and may have picked up some interesting ideas. Later, there was a 'how to manip' Photoshopping session For Adults Only, and, squeezing in rather late at the back, I was perturbed to notice—after the first picture of the Doctor and the Master engaging in some explicit fucking had appeared on the screen—that my Beast and my Boy were in the front row. Oh well, it's an education.

nopseud left me to fend for myself in the panel on "Should any kind of fiction be illegal", on the grounds that she'd go on a killing spree if forced to endure it... inevitably, the subjects of the discussion were (a) Real Person Fic and (b) child porn. I remained unswayed. I figure, my squick doesn't stop you writing what you want to write, your squick shouldn't stop me. Let's just not read each other, okay? But it was a civil discussion, for all that. Actually the most hostility seemed to be in the 'American/British English' discussion, where I had mistakenly ended up on the panel - there was some definite peevishness about the American 'misuse' of the language, and it wasn't quite so lightheartedly presented as to suggest it wasn't actually heartfelt. But, still, an interesting discussion - and I was surprised how many non-Britons there were present. Oh, and we came up with a new term! Holmes/Watson—not 'slash' but 'oblique' fiction. Because it's very, very British. Yes.

We left after that panel, to restore Boy to his university. In the usual style of con-going we had but two meals a day, the mega-breakfast before Everything Gets Going, and a very respectable dinner at Whenever There Was Space In The Programme; on Sunday we'd not had our second meal of the day, so we stopped at a pub just outside Norwich. It was full of perfectly respectable people in smart-casual clothes, normal people who probably watch Eastenders and care about the football results and never read books, and I felt *so* alien.

And now, I have real life again. *sigh*