The picture above is me holding the two Locus Awards I received for "A Small Room in Koboldtown." One is for best short story. The other is for best novelette.
How is this even possible? Well, for once the most boring possible answer is correct. There was a mix-up when the plaque was made and my story was credited to the wrong category. This fact was noted at the awards ceremony, and they hastily ordered a corrected plaque to be mailed to me. But Leslie Howle, who accepted the award for me, kept the incorrect plaque, figuring correctly that I'd get a kick out of it. Now they hang on the wall together.
My schedule for Denvention was so full that the only time I could be sure to meet Leslie to get the plaque from her was immediately after I arrived at the con. So I got to the convention center, picked up my badge, and hurried off to accept the award. All conventions should begin that way.
As always . . .
I've updated the Poem du Jour. Saturday's posting was by the Great White Lady of poetry. Can you guess who she is? No, no, not Emily Dickinson. She may have been great, but she was only wan and pallid.
And Pastor Marcia's Journal has come to a close! Pastor Marcia's returned home. I had lunch with her Sunday, and reminisced about the production of Cabaret, starring Glen Close, that we both worked on, back in college. She ran most of the stuff. I was a lowly stagehand.