Argh. I was thinking about going to a science fiction convention - Eastercon - this year, but in relation to the amount of money I make, the cost is prohibitive. Plus, I'll miss almost half of it as my girlfriend's birthday is on the Friday - her 21st, as well - so even if I did go, I wouldn't be able to get a lift there, and by the time I did get there, it would be halfway through the Saturday afternoon - plus, I'd have to book a train making at least two changes on the way to Hinckley, where the con is being held. The journey alone would take almost six hours.

This all assuming I leave at seven in the morning. Ach.

I've been to a lot of conventions. There are things I really like about them, there are things I really hate about them. I could utterly do without people walking about in fancy dress. This might make me enemies in some quarters, but frankly I find most of them embarrassing, one or two verging on disturbing. I recall people commenting on how conventions were places where people were always friendly, open. This always seemed to run against my own experience, which didn't always fit that model.

Nonetheless, I enjoy Conventions - mostly. I get to talk to other people interested in writing, published and unpublished. I had the notion going would be a good idea since I'm making the big push to get some publishable novels written. Even if I didn't achieve anything (although I'm not sure what I actually could achieve), at least I'd feel I was in the right mental environment. It would make me thing something like, there's something here I'm aiming for.

Plus, I was talking to Lawrence in the Counting House on Tuesday when we met to talk about where to go next with the writer's circle. He mentioned he'd read there was a strong correlation between the writers most frequently nominated for the Nebulas, and the number of conventions those same authors attended (read: schmoozing). That helped me make up my mind - at the time - to go.

But when I think of the money it'll cost - plus the time of travelling, how little time I'll be there, my state of mind for most of the Saturday on which I"ll have been travelling since seven in the morning - puts me off now. It's just too difficult, too expensive. Mind you, I know Craig's flying down. It's something to think about, and I have flown before, but it's far from being an experience I enjoy.

But I think it's likely I'll give it a miss this time, however much I don't want to.

Stinking cold. My mind is fuzzed. Didn't manage to get any writing done tonight. Had the cold last night as well. Some writing, not much. Had trouble focusing on the screen, dammit. See how I feel tomorrow.

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