So, I got back from SFcontario yesterday. We didn’t just do the con; I’d never been in Toronto before so we did some touristy things, too. I need more time to wrangle the photos for those, which is why I’m only covering Thursday right now.
Anyway. We arrived at Pearson International early Thursday afternoon. Took the 192 Rocket Bus to Kipling station, Kipling to Bloor-Yonge (pronounced “young”, for some reason), Bloor-Yonge to College. Got off at College, ate a delicious chicken caesar wrap at the foot court, then legged it down to the Ramada. International travel is hard work (haha), so I wanted to do nothing more than laze about and maybe sleep a bit. However, I also wanted to hear Scalzi read a preview of his upcoming novel, Redshirts, at the library. Scalzi won out, which is no surprise as he was half the reason I was in Toronto (the other half, if you’re wondering, was Schroeder).
So we grabbed a delicious dinner at a Chinese place which may or may not have been called Ho Jan (it’s the only one I can find on google maps after the fact) and legged it down College/Carlton st to the library. The reading was being held in the basement, and I was delighted to find that the stairway down was lined with torches.
Canada, je t’aime.
I got my first experience of Scalzi in the flesh, and he was pretty much like I expected, but the photos and blog posts could not have prepared me for breadth and scope of his hand-gesture repertoire. The reading was, quite simply, fabulous. Someone else was supposed to come after Scalzi and do some stuff, but he was running late so Scalzi stuck around and answered questions, told funny stories about how people managed to take his April Fool’s joke a bit too seriously despite all the hints there’d been that it was totally not going to be made into a legit book, and pestered the students who’d come to get credit for a class.
Mother said I should have brought my book to get it signed, but by the end I couldn’t imagine summoning the energy required to stand around in the line. So we left and I got to sleep, which was a better deal than Scalzi’d had, poor bugger.