WisCon: Lady Poetesses from Hell

[fullygoldy]

Yes, it's been nearly a week.  I work for a living, LOL.  Also, I've been having the happiest beta experience of my life.  An author who can take concrit in the spirit in which it is intended is a rare and beautiful thing (InMyLimitedExperienceTM). The current author isn't the only one, but she's the only one I also know in RL, and that adds a bunch of dimensions to the process.  I'm having *fun.*

So, I asked my wise and wonderful friendlist for advice on which panel to attend at 1:00pm on Saturday.  The only responses I got implied that I *must* attend "Lady Poetesses from Hell* or be deemed the most uncool of all.  I am a sheep in this regard.  I attended the panel. (I also sat in the back row to make a hasty retreat, if necessary).

Dayum!  These poetesses rocked!  The panel consisted of six readers, and the program only listed two, so I apologize for not knowing who the guy who was channeling a lady poetess is.  They all "dressed" for the occasion.  I definitely need to acquire some hats before the next con.  Ellen Klages, Laurel Winter, the guy, Elise Mattheson, Rebecca Marjesdatter, and Terry Garey. I liked Terry's car poem ::bwg::

Ellen was the last to arrive, amber beer in hand, and they made her go first for her tardiness.  Her intro explained that the previous night she had been shooting pool with Elise M, they were discussing slash, and drinking beer.  "Woot!" said I, perhaps inappropriately, but come on! What's not to love there?  Ellen went on to explain that Elise had challenged her to write her first slash ever.  A poem for today's panel, with a pairing provided by Elise.  The pairing consisted of:

A piece of string

Richard Feynman

O.M.G.!!!!!!!!!eleventy111111111!!  /fangirl-geek squee.  Seriously?  Could this be a better challenge?  The fact that Ellen accepted it meant that I was about to be treated to something wonderful.  My abundant optimism was not misplaced.

I laughed, I roared, I wept (only from laughing so hard), I attempted not to fall out of my chair.  I swear to all the gods, that if the entire rest of the panel had SUCKED, I would have still thought the experience a WIN of the greatest magnitude possible.  I could barely breathe while Ellen shared her poem with us.  Breathing might have made me miss something fabulous.  "you're a Dick."  "you don't understand me." OMG!

Laurel Winter later shared her "horror" poem of eggs in the refrigerator, awaiting their final judgement.  That was eye-opening.  I felt silly being practically the only person to admit to having eggs for breakfast that morning.  Then Laurel admitted that she too had eaten eggs that day.

Each of the six took turns reading poems, and it seemed that they chose their poems based on what had been read prior.  So, I found it very cool and extremely entertaining.  And. I want a hat.

Afterward, I rushed the "stage" and asked Ellen if there was any way to get a copy of her fabulous slash poem.  She showed me her hand-written notes in her notebook. 'this is the only place it exists.'  

'I understand that, but I LOVE YOU SO MUCH RIGHT NOW!  Please, can I convince you to publish this somewhere?'
I won't say Ellen blushed at that, but she did kind of pink up around the ears, and she gave me her business card (OMG - they're so adorable - these tiny pieces of cardstock, about a quarter of a standard business card, with whimsical pics on one side and her info in tee-ninesy font on the other - they're all different!)  She said that if I'd email her and remind her that I wanted the poem, she'd let me know where it finally got published.  She had sort of thought she could get it published in Analog.  Which is of course a fantastic idea, and figures, seeing as how I let my subscription lapse recently.  But still.  I encouraged that endeavor.  Analog should be thrilled to have this submission.  If not Analog, she'll post it to her blog.  I cannot wait.  I kid you not, this poem is to die for.

I spent the rest of the weekend telling people how fantastic the Lady Poetesses panel was.  At one point, I spoke to Hope.  Hope is apparently well-known, and I can see why.  I attended a panel which she also attended. Her comments were pertinent, interesting and inciteful.  So I'm blathering on to Hope about the poetry.  She says she's not really into poetry.  But.  "Are you familiar with Laurel Winter?"  
"I don't know - I'm not sure I recognize the name." 
"Oh, she has this fantastic horror piece about eggs."
"OMG! She's one of the Lady Poetesses!"

Later on, I ran into Ms. Winter.  I recounted this conversation (it was my only excuse for striking up a conversation).  Says she, "Oh! I know Hope!"  Seriously.  How cool is that? (Also, Hope is one cool lady. I'm looking forward to running into her again).

In conclusion, always listen to your flist.  Always attend panels labeled "Lady Poetesses from Hell." And *I am a geek of ginormous proportions when it comes to String Theory.*

ETA:  If anybody is listening, the Poetesses need a bigger room.