San Diego Comic Con was amazing. So many wonderful people met, costumes photographed, and blisters obtained.
Seriously, though. The blisters. I have them on toes in configurations I didn’t know were possible. The way to do it, I’ve learned, is to bring about three pairs of shoes, and swap them as needed. Sadly, my flip flops broke in the airport on the way there, so I was down to two. Most days took the careful application of approximately nine preventative band-aids.
Still, no amount of discomfort could keep me from enjoying myself wildly. I got some fab new apparel from the Warner Brothers queue, and a great Walking Dead shirt from a fan who came to get his book signed (thanks again, btw!). The cookbook signings at Random House went well, and we actually sold out of the books!
- Getting a call to come have drinks with George RR Martin
- Having an exhibitor badge, and sneaking in before the crowds
- The VIP Random House party, hobnobbing with authors
- Playing question games with a group of very creative writers at the hotel bar
- Waking up each day to a view of the Batmobiles, and the line for Hall H, which I was blessedly not in
So, I may have let half of my plants die while I was away, but I vow that their deaths will not have been in vain. I am revamping the blog with an emphasis on fictional food, and plan to solicit every author I know for their submissions.
Onward, fictional foodies! Leave no book unexplored, no dish untested!