So after a mighty rough morning (up 'til after 3am having a wonderful time; not so wonderful when we had to wake up at 6:30 to catch a 9:40 flight), here we are at JFK waiting for our flight home. Thanks, JetBlue free terminal wi-fi! Still the march of luminaries continues: we shared the shuttle to the Orlando airport with Roger Luckhurst and John Kessel, and we realized that we'd shared the flight to JFK with Mike Kelly, Peter Straub's archivist.
Last night was wonderful. The awards went smoothly, the acceptors were brief and gracious, the expression on Brian Aldiss' face when he learned he got the retro BASFA award was priceless, and a good time was had by all.
Then out by the bar we did not get rained on, and thanks to the contributions of many dedicated alcohol lovers, we had a wide and splendid variety of things to drink. I got to talk to just about all the people I wanted to, and listen to brilliant people being very funny. And I've learned more about Flannery O'Connor, whose work's I'll have to look up now. By the way, all things Southern are funnier when told by Andy Duncan in his native accent, or Bret Cox in his original accent, apparently since moderated by time in Vermont.
So that's it for ICFA for this year. Every year (OK, two now), it feels more like home.
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