RT Orlando in pictures
All right, I’m finished my YA. I’m finished my new proposal. Now, at long last, I can do my RT Orlando Post!
I really need to journal while I’m at these conventions. They go by in a blur and a week later I know I’m going to forget to mention a ton of great people I’ve met and a lot of what I did. So if I don’t mention you by name, please don’t hate me. The memory. She isn’t what she used to be.
I’m going to mainly focus on the pics I took to refresh my memory.
I took a pic of the two posters Grand Central Publishing had in “promo alley” of their current and upcoming titles. I spot a purple and a black cover I’m rather fond of.
Jackie Kessler schmoozes with Barry Eisler before each went in to speak at separate panels.
Christina Cross gives me her best Sherrilyn Kenyon’s “Simi” impression. Doesn’t she look fabulous? I am so dressing like this next year. Well, maybe just the coffin purse.
RT reviewer Jill Smith (who’s so nice!), the screamingly funny Dakota Cassidy, and Jackie, who always rocks.
Some of my fellow Reluctant Adults take their places in Club RT, where authors loiter and readers can come in and chat at their leisure. Richelle Mead, Stacia Kane (who is blonder than I am and this just cannot be), Caitlin Kittredge (whose netbook I covet), and Mark Henry (Seattle sunshine). I believe that is straight caffeine they are all mainlining due to hectic writing schedules and doing 100 conferences each this year. Not pictured is the fab Michele Bardsley…where did she go?
RT has panels about writing and reading — I think there are three tracks: Urban Fantasy, Paranormal Romance, and Young Adult. This one I believe was about writing an urban fantasy series. Dude, it’s all a blur. But I really do need to learn more about these sorts of things from the experts. From left to right is Richelle Mead, Jaye Wells (covering her face, silly girl), Mark Henry, Jocelyn Drake, Ilona Andrews (taking lessons from Jaye on the face covering), Jeaniene Frost, and Mario Acevedo.
Rather than a tall hotel, RT decided to hold their convention this year at a sprawling compound. It was very pretty but I have to say I’d prefer a real hotel next year. This is the building I was in with my roomie and fellow Toronto Romance Writer Christine D’Abo.
To show how sprawling this place was, here’s the “You Are Here” map they had in multiple places on the maze-like grounds. Just in case you got lost. Which I did. Frequently. I kept expecting to meet up with a minotaur.
However, I did like looking at the blue skies and palm trees. It was perfect weather every day of the convention.
One day while wandering aimlessly through the labyrinth, I took some pics of the beautiful flowers they had along the paths. There were also tiny lizards that scurried about and wanted to sell me insurance.
This was the view from the pool bar, at which I spent a great deal of time. Although I did not have a hangover this year since I barely drank any booze. I’m still recovering from the Harlequin Party last year in San Francisco.
Here’s some random blonde with the divine Elizabeth Hoyt at the Grand Central author’s dinner. I had the salmon. It was deelish. Later in the week I extracted a free copy of To Beguile a Beast from Elizabeth which I am devouring right now.
This has been shown on many, many blogs, but why stop there? Jaye Wells is forced to don a gun bra and sing She Bangs on camera. Why? Because we love her. I also procured a free copy of her debut novel Red-Headed Stepchild. Because I like to support my peers’ writing careers by begging for free books. It’s what going to RT is all about!
My view from the big book signing, sitting between the wonderful Robin Rotham and Gerri Russell who help make the three hours go by very quickly. Thanks to all the awesome readers who either bought a copy of one of my books or brought in their own copies for me to sign, especially the well-worn copies of my older stuff. You all rock!
Getting away from the convention, a bunch of us went to Pirate Dinner Theater. Which was pretty bad. But Tor Editor, the hilarious Heather Osborn got a drink in a coconut, which really made me want one.
Even Richelle got in on the coconut action. But I decided against it due to my recent “don’t buy crap you’re going to regret” philosophy. Sigh. I want a coconut.
Agent Miriam Kriss writes her review on the back of a comment card. I suggested instead of handing it in, she keeps it as a memento of the evening. You know, in lieu of a coconut pirate head.
Oh why can’t you be mine, coconut pirate head? Why???
I stayed till the bitter end of this convention. The BITTER end. Which, FYI, is called Psychic Sunday. I did some past life regression (no comment) and met my spirit guide (because that’s what happens on Psychic Sunday, people) with über-reader Blakey Girl. And then, to top it off, Sasha White (my new BFF) and I wandered the empty ghost-town-like corridors of the conference hall and came upon…free books? What? And what do we do? We dove in like the bibliophiles we are. This was our take from the goody room leftovers. Better than chocolate. Well, almost.
Last but not least, check out this poster the hotel put up to advertise their restaurant. That’s targeted marketing if ever I saw it.
But, yeah, take this post and triple it, because that’s everything that happened. I didn’t take any pics at the Charlaine Harris Charlatans fan club party I got to go to, which was fantastic. I won a signed copy of one of Charlaine’s books and met some awesomely friendly readers from all over North America.
I must say I didn’t attend any of the theme dinners. Next year, I’m bringing my fairy wings. I seriously am! Well, maybe not. We’ll have to see how it goes.
The End
