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O the carnival is over...

It's the day after WWWC5 and my feet and legs are still letting me know they don't like all the walking around I did. I'm so stiff getting up and down it's almost hilarious.

I entered the costume contest and won Best Automaton which came with a HEAP of swag including a cool light-up deelio that means I have to go get a Aus-US power adapter :P but that thing is going on my writing desk. YEAH!

I have blisters on my blisters on my blisters... I probably swallowed like half of my face. [For the record - I tried not to once I realized how the makeup was entering my digestive system. I just don't know how effective that was]

But it's worth all the pain, and more. I would do it all again in a heartbeat. BECAUSE IT WAS THE BEST TIME EVER!

The highest point, of course, is sharing air with Steam Powered Giraffe, and the lovely and talented people that make up the band. I got to chat about the most mundane things, including the lengths we go to in order to get the right effect in makeup... and the pains of travelling over the Pacific Oceans [there's two of them!] and costuming ideas.

I know it sounds inane, but just... casual banter with my personal heroes is something I'm going to treasure forever. They've probably already forgotten me by now. I honestly don't really care. It's my treasure and I'll keep it.

I also learned about plotters and pantsers. Plotters are the writers that line up every inch of their books and write to a plan. Pantsers are writers who go by the seat of their pants, letting their muse take them on a strange and interesting journey. I'm a hybrid of sorts. I do a very rough outline

So many people loved my fanbot, Bitzer. The makeup, the heart, the whole deal. I got a bigger laugh out of offering sweets than I did out of the routine I did on stage. Ah well. C'est la vie.

I found out about Badge Ribbons. Which I want to have with me if there ever is a next time. O I want there to be a next time. I would dearly love to go again and actually make an effort to be in character for the entire weekend.

I want to come back and get ALL the badge ribbons, and give out some. I want to hug the stuffing out of SPG now that I know they don't care about transfer smear from people with a heckton of makeup on.

I did get to thank the Bennetts and Sam for everything that they do on the last day. I nearly cried. Hell, I'm nearly crying now.

Because I can't afford to go to many cons. Not yet. I need to sell a lot more of my books before I can go wherever I want.

But the instant I get home, I am researching all the more local Steampunk and Sci-fi cons going on in my area. I need to find a local writers' club that isn't a pain in the arse to get to. I'm going to get one more beta opinion on KFZ if it firkin kills me.

I have so many things to do. Including chasing Beloved to get my Amazon Exclusive ready for publication. I need to earn money from putting words together, because I have promises to keep and because earning a living off of what I do obsessively would be extremely nice.

I currently get about $2.21 a week off of book sales via Smashwords at the moment. Before taxes. I'm sure I'm not investing enough time into self-promotion.

If there was an automated way to tell people about my stuff, I would be on it in a cold second. Cough cough, hint hint, Beloved. [And get that keister into gear visavis the Amazon-ready copy of my exclusive. I went to the trouble of translating it into Markup for you. Come on!]

I probably spent way too much money but I wanted to buy ALL THE MERCH. Sadly... budget. Ah. One day, I will be earning enough to get the things I want as well as the things we need.

I'll probably be living lean for a tiny while [still worth it] but I'm a champion at making do with what little I have to hand. I do it so often...

IF I do WWWC again, I'm going to insist on a 24-hour period before all the fun starts so I have time to sleep and shower and stock up on edibles if I need to. I want to have ribbons to give out, too. All the degrees of self-promotion I can get into are good.

And going about with lollies in hand can make you really popular. It's amazing how that works.

Today, though. Today. After I take my pills and get my brekkie, I'm editing out any reference to the Ambassadors for the Consortium of Steam [AKA Steam Powered Giraffe's fantastic robots] before I put in as many words as I can get in before my brain fuzzes out.

I leave here on Tuesday and arrive home on Thursday, which means that if I want to keep up with my 3K a week schedule, I have to write as much as I can, today, and possibly write through one day of the weekend.

My wrists shouldn't complain if I take frequent breaks.

And I still have to pack a majority of my crap. I really don't know about dragging Max and my lappy along in my carry-on again. On one hand, I don't want to lose them if they lose my checked luggage [$2400 ballpark to replace them] but on the other hand, they are a pain in the arse when going through customs.

I'll figure out logistics later.