mindseas, tcastleb and araken gathered in Purcellville this weekend along with another Taos grad, Scott Andrews (Weird Tales Dec 2007 issue) and dawtheminstrel (via speakerphone) to dissect and dismember three novel excerpts. A fine feast was had by all, courtesy of the local "Hot Wok" takeout. OzCon was conceived because one of our Taos alums was graduating from SHU with a fancy MA in Pop Fiction in January 08. This celebratory event became the basis for organizing a party. The woman pictured below *claims* to be the same person, but I'm not convinced. Had I met such a femme fatale on the mountain, I'm quite sure I'd remember her as such.
OzCon began in a sleepy manner, with said guest claiming that something in the house was making her sneeze and snuffle continuously. Which, in this house, could be just about anything. There were still preparations to be made, guests to be deposited in the city to tour museums, cars to be fixed, stories not to be written.
Here we see our Femme Fatale being interviewed about her new book by one of the girls.
Here we see our heroines posing with their hero.
Moving right along, on the Friday OzCon was to begin, we had the Dramatic Installation of the Hughes Satellite Service Business Package. Minor drama over, OzCon was live on the internet.
Once
mindseas arrived, things began to get a little crazy. One of the cats upended the Mouse King's house on the newly cleaned couch cushions. And I do mean newly cleaned just a couple of hours before. We righted the cage and put it into the bathtub, but the Dude pronounced the Mouse King gone. In the 30 seconds it took us to react and run into the room. He's quick, the MK. We haven't seen him since, dead or alive. OzCon consists of animal therapy.
mindseas has posted some of these. This morning, we were awakened to the sound of rapid-fire birdshot from a neighboring property. Shortly afterward, we acquired (unwillingly) a Canadian Goose that had been winged. Which sent the girls into a tizzy and they went into the coop and spent the day complaining and laying eggs. All perfectly legal, apparently. Though I do want to know what I'm expected to do with a goose in the temporary run. So does the goose. He/She exited the temporary run under the cover of dusk and made a beeline for the property line. Unfortunately, he/she was spotted by the Dude and rounded up again by the Dude, ably assisted by
mindseas who turns out to be as much of an animal geek as the Dude is. Before our crit circle, the group was treated to a demonstration of the art of splitting wood with a maul. The Dude rocks. Splits 'em actually. Logs, that is.
Such power, such grace, such athletic prowess, such je ne sais quoi. Actually, I do know what, but I won't share it with the entire internet.
Tomorrow, we may work on plotting. We may visit Antietam and Harpers Ferry. We may have a bonfire. Or, we may sit and write and plot and dream.
Frog Out
