Con Man

I love conventions. Science fiction and fantasy conventions, that is. Israeli SF&F conventions, to be precise. The two big ones, at least, those of Sukkoth and Passover, every year.
Why is that? Is it because I love SF&F? Or the jolly good lectures and screenings and whatnot? Or the jolly bad lectures and screenings and whatnot? Or the even more jolly horrible opening events, written and performed by the jolly good Kilroy and the jolly lobotomized myself for several years now? Or just the prospect of sitting a whole day, or at least most of it, doing nothing except blabbering with friends who also happen to like SF&F and eating trekkies occasionally?
Those are all important factors, of course, but a man has to be honest to himself, and even if he hasn't, this particular man would like, at this particular moment, be so disposed, and therefore admit, confess, in fact – declare, that the best reason for going to them cons is the fact that in every one of them there appear new issues of both of Israel's SF&F magazines.
Both are good magazines, each in its own twisted way, but that is not the complete and absolute reason, of course. The actual complete and absolute reason is, alas, the great enjoyment I derive from watching people reading the columns I write for those two honorable publications, and laughing at the right places.
Yes, it is vain.
It also gives one some much deserved (see above sentence) writing energy when trying to deal with future such columns, not to speak of stories which got stuck in the middle and are now waiting for an end to pop in one's head, somehow, else their protagonists will stay marooned in space till the end of time or the universe, whichever comes first, with nothing to eat but some alien humus.

And on a happier note: I wanted to state here that last week I wrote a story abote a sheep – no, it is entirely unlike what you think it is, perverts – but a glance at the writing date revealed that in fact it was a month ago, so this is not a happier note at all, really.

Gotta keep on going, though. Gotta have hope. Maybe tomorrow I'll write a story about an eel.