After Inaction Report from Ravencon
A read with the unexpectedly commonplace yet giant-killing name of Jack writes and asks:
Mr Wright: no word on Ravencon? maybe I missed it. Were you barbequed on sight, or just smugly ignored? Or, was it really civilized? At this point I would imagine many of the detractors on the left are wary of confrontation with those of the Puppy and Ilk fame. If so, good. They need a nice dose of apprehension to temper their attack dog tendencies of attack, attack, then worry about truth and accuracy.
I am pleased to report that there were no incidents of which I was aware at Ravencon. Everything went swimmingly.
No, that is not quite true: I heard from one of the organizers, a friend of mine, that Brianna Wu sat on a panel on Gamergate on Friday (before I arrived), and asked for there to be no photographs. As far as I know, this is a perfectly reasonable request, and, as a matter of professional courtesy, it is usually honored. One fellow — I did not catch his name — took photos nonetheless, Brianna Wu raised an objection (whether reasonable or hysterical I cannot say, hearing of this only third hand) and the photographer was asked to step out of the room. He was not kicked out of the Con. He left a snarky comment on his social media page.
That makes a grand total of one almost-rude incident and one perhaps-illtempered comment. And it was not related to Sad Puppies as far as I know, merely the psychodrama of a seriously disturbed person.
Aside from that, the topic came up only once, at the Trollhunter 101 panel, where the moderator merely described that the controversy existed, but his description of the controversy was fair and free from libel, so he was on our side (whether he knows it or not).
In the panel on Webcomics, someone did speak out against political correctness, and mentioned that one could not publicly dare to say that political correctness was totalitarian in spirit, lest Big Brother subject you to the two minute hate. (But he said this privately to me.)
At least two people recognized me, which surprised me. They both congratulated me on my Hugo nominations, so that means that they had heard of them. One guy asked me to sign his book. I had no idea I was so famous!
I spoke with Kate Paulk about her Vlad Tepes novel, which sounded fascinating. The Baen room served a mean bowl of chilli, of which I had seconds.
I spoke with Warren Lapine who, albeit he is as far leftist as it comes when it comes to paranoid delusions about the menace of corporate capitalism, is himself an ardent capitalist and also a pro-Second Amendment gun nut, which goes to show that there are some honest and honorable opponents trapped in the thought prison of Leftism. Poor souls. I like the guy; I love the guy. He bought one of my first stories, and I was at his wedding.
We are professionals, and only the SJWs do not get that, and want to turn this into a vicious crusade and world-burning no-prisoners no-quarter total war of total lies.
Every one else, Sad Puppies most of all, want to read about spaceships and space princesses and have a jolly good time, and be left in peace without the incessant nagging of these socialist social-justice scolds.
It totally freaked me out that I was the senior ranking author in each panel I visited. Me. I had more publications, more chops, more gravitas and more belly flab drooping over my straining beltbuckle than any other wight in the room.
There was no Pournelle, no Niven, nor Gene Wolfe in the room. Where was Harlan?
And others are departed for the far shore: we will not see the shy and brilliant Roger Zelazny again, nor will we see the like of Hal Clement, that man among men. Once I shook his hand, Mr Clement. Dear Lord, how I miss the solid world building of Hal Clement, and miss the fluid yet masterful jazzbeat of Zelazny’s prose.
There was none but me, and even my most ardent fan will admit I am a poor substitute for these giants.
It was a disorienting and melancholy realization. I want someone to admire, someone to outrank me, but time and age are sweeping the greats away.
About John C Wright
John C. Wright is a practicing philosopher, a retired attorney, newspaperman, and newspaper editor, and a published author of science fiction. Once a Houyhnhnm, he was expelled from the august ranks of purely rational beings when he fell in love; but retains an honorary title.
