Dearest Rachel –
On my first trip back to the hotel, after the opening ceremonies, and in order to check in, I passed by a number of cosplayers in the corridors, as to be expected of an anime convention. Most of them were either of the “ho-hum, I’ve seen them before an infinite number of times” variety (seriously: there are printed bodysuits out in circulation that allow anyone to simply put them on and go about as either Rei or Asuka or Shinji, assuming they have the body type to pull the look off) or the “who are you, never mind, I don’t care” variety. But then, there are the occasional surprises. One of these is a girl dressed as Little MissFortune, complete with beret, schoolgirl coat and a smattering of glitter on her head and shoulders.
I greeted her as she passed with her catchphrase, to let her know I knew who she was, and was impressed by the authenticity of her outfit: “Fahn-cy!”
She turned to acknowledge the comment, and responded in kind (and in character), “Fahn-cy!” That’s the beauty of an anime convention; everything is a colossal inside joke, and you make these brief flashes of connection with each other by letting each other know that you’re in on the joke. No one is suitably well-versed to get every connection, to be sure, but most of us have at least a passing familiarity with enough to make these sorts of connections from time to time, and while I won’t go so far as to say this makes the trip worthwhile, it’s one more little aspect of the whole that moves it in that direction.
***
Still, it turned out to be curiously prophetic; I really didn’t see it coming, but when the boys finally caught up with me at the room, this seemed to be Logan’s reaction to it: “I don’t think I’ve ever stayed in a nicer hotel room.” Had he and his family never stayed in a suite hotel before? I wonder what he would’ve thought about our rooms at the Pacific Palisades back in the day.
This is the sort of hotel room we had been trying to get for years to stay at over Anime Central weekend, except for the fact that the room block would fill up within fifteen minutes of its opening. It’s an ideal venue to allow the fanfic panel to gather on Friday night, while keeping the actual bedroom area separate from the meeting area. That, and the fact that it’s literally across the street from the convention center, as opposed to being that quarter mile walk that the Lowes was last year. It’s really no wonder that these rooms get snapped up the moment they’re made available. You would always do your best to keep us on a waiting list in case of cancellations, but we never really got that fortunate after our last stay here over a decade ago.
Well, thanks to Doc’s help in showing me how to work the notifications on Discord, I finally managed to do what you used to be able to do back in the day. You would be pleased with me, if you were still here to be able to take advantage of it and enjoy it. As it is, it’s just a means to keep the boys separate from the fanfic panel. And, apparently, to impress Logan.
***
The dinner last night went reasonably well, with certain almost inevitable hiccups; one panelist wasn’t feeling well (she literally told Doc she had a ‘headache’; girl, it’s just a pizza dinner, it’s not like anything more is required of you), another was busy in another panel (sometimes, it seems like the one parable of the wedding feast; granted, it’s never been that level of ‘fahn-cy’), that sort of thing. At most, there were only ever four or five of us there last night, including one regular – Gary, in fact, who came to your memorial service – who was only able to come for the dinner, as he hadn’t registered for the convention, apparently. We’re a far cry when there would be a dozen, a score or even more that would descend upon a restaurant and practically take it over for several hours.
Then again, perhaps we need to consider ourselves fortunate that ACen has a panel at all. There hasn’t been one in Iowa since they moved to the Coralville convention center in the first place some ten, fifteen years ago, and I only know of four writers (including myself, so you can tell that’s saying something) who ever attend it – and that was down to just me as of last year. So, there’s that.
Still we’re still able to have a good time together, albeit one shortened by the fact that one of our number had to leave for another appointment (I’m not sure whether it was a panel or something else completely offsite) as well as the fact that we would all need to call it an early night, as the panel was this morning at nine (literally when the convention activity starts for the day).
It wasn’t much in the way of shop talk – they rarely ever are any more, if they ever were – it could be better described as a class reunion than anything else. Everyone has had their struggles in the intervening years during the Covid hiatus, and this was the chance to catch up on those, such as they were. For once, though, I kept silent, as my (our?) situation was already well known – if nothing else, I’ve done more writing in the past couple years than perhaps all of my life previously. I learned a few things about Doc’s family that I never would’ve guessed. Likewise for Phil and his brother’s situation.
But those are their stories, not mine, to tell. Were you there, you would’ve heard them, but as you weren’t, they need to stay within those walls. For the moment, once they were over and gone, I needed to get some rest (and yes, that meant not bothering with Anime Hell or Midnight Madness), in order to get up in a timely manner.
Anyway, honey, I need to get going. The panel will be on pretty soon, and I need to be there for moral support, at the very least. For the time being, then, keep an eye on me, and wish me luck. Because, after all, I’ll need it
Letters to Rachel 