I think I had the most fun I’ve ever had at Boskone as a part of this year’s program. I probably could’ve done a better job moderating “So You Wanna Be a Time Lord.” Things got a little heated near the end, but I think most folks walked out with smiles. “The Horror Boom and the Second Wave” and “Fear Factor” panels were great fun and I’m wondering if that was so because my point of view on these topics was that of a fan, and not so much as “a fantasy/sf writer.” I did have occasion to let that perspective sneak in a couple of times; that was cool, too.
I was down with OPP (Other People’s Panels) this year, too. I probably need to lay off the various “writers on writing” panels at cons, though — not because I feel I have nothing to learn but really, my further learning needs to be about doing at this point. Still, I did pick up a couple of real gems.
Caught a couple of films, too. I’d heard of, but never watched David L. Wolper’s 1963 documentary STORY OF THE WRITER on Ray Bradbury. I wish someone would’ve tied me down CLOCKWORK ORANGE-style and made me watch this when I started writing. I ruminated on this video for most of the ride back from MA to NY for a many reasons, not the least of which is because this is a snapshot of Bradbury’s life at 43 (like someone else I know). I know, I know, can’t compare yourself to other people, least of all a legend in the field. But got’damn, if this isn’t yet another call to get my ass in gear…
The other was Roger Corman’s 1963 adaptation of THE RAVEN. C’mon, who doesn’t like that one? I’d actually forgotten that Richard Matheson wrote the screenplay, and that a very young Jack Nicholson was in it, too!
I succumbed to Boskone Twitter’s (implied) dare to adopt the busted Baphomet statue I found in my apartment complex’s laundry room and use it as a prop for the piece I performed for the Villains Open Mic slam.
Kicking off the Villains Open Mic, the amazing @DonP #boskone pic.twitter.com/SPUgtYbZlo
— Boskone News (@boskonenews) February 19, 2017
This is the second year in a row that someone suggested I do something with the pieces I performed. Maybe this year, I’ll listen. I wonder what I’ll have to cook up next year?
See you at 55!