PLEASE ME AND MAKE ME WANT TO GIVE YOU A BOOK. You can please me by promoting my book in some way, you can also try to please me by telling me a joke or posting a picture of you gurning, if you're really good at it.  You must either comment here or link me to your SOPHIA-MCDOUGALL PLEASING STUNT  on twitter.

I will not be pleased by illegality or grossness, otherwise you make the rules. I will send the person who strikes me as the most delightful a unique signed, personalised book.

Hello all. Some of you are new people! Settle in, new people, make yourselves at home!

I knew in theory that the post about the Weekender might get more attention than I was used to. But I didn’t know it would and the reality of a thing is always pretty different from the expectation anyway.

As it was -- Baby’s first internet kerfuffle!

Some of you have left great comments on the original post that are various flavours of wise/thoughtful/supportive/wanting to know more.

I want to thank you for them. I would normally go through and reply to all of them and I just want to ask you to forgive me for the fact that this time, I’m not going to.

The fact is,I’m tired, I’m behind on work, I have a stinker of a cold that’s also making me throw up for some reason, and I’m still trying to bounce back from various fun things like a death in the family that did a number on my brain over Christmas. I went through a long, and I think, ultimately productive twitter and email exchange with an SFX team member before Dave Bradley stepped in, and now I don’t feel I can afford to outlay any more energy on this. Of course, no one needs my permission to keep talking about this wherever you like.  But I don’t think I’m going to be part of the discussion any more. Not, at least, until we’re getting closer to the next Weekender.   I said what I wanted to say, it did get listened to, and now I’d really like to get on with this book I’m supposed to be writing.

(And to stop throwing up).

Oh – one more thing I am going to do, and urge you to do, is to write to Chic Festivals about the dancer situation. info@chicfestivals.com and lisa@chictalent.com are the email addresses Lizzie Barrett of the British Fantasy Society has been using. As I understand it, Chic Festivals work with, rather than for, SFX – I guess as partners? – in making the event happen. So they’re not being paid by SFX, and they send those half-naked stiltwalking girls to all their events. I’m told that SFX has raised concerns about them before, and Chic Festivals hasn’t listened.  I’m not saying this lets SFX off the hook – the event bears their name, after all – but still, these are the people who think silent half-naked women and no silent, half-naked men at SFX Weekender is  good idea, and going directly to the source of the problematic entertainment may be a useful next step.

There’s going to be a hefty ‘but’ dominating this post, so let’s start by saying I had a great time at the SFX weekender.  I made (I hope!) new friends.  I played ridiculous games with old ones.  I discovered how some of the biggest names in the industry are also the nicest, friendliest people you could ever hope to meet.  There was joyous spontaneous Doctor Who line-dancing.  There was copious booze. And I danced with Giant David Bowie, so my life is pretty much complete.

SFX deserves a tonne of credit for being awesome and imaginative enough to make all of that happen, for creating a little enclave of crazy wonder and excitement in the bleak Welsh winter.

But here’s the ‘but’.

 I wrote to the SFX team expressing interest in appearing on panels. I did several pretty successful ones last  Eastercon, so I think that was a reasonable thing to do? I wouldn’t mind the fact that I didn’t  even get a reply  if I hadn’t turned up to find that the writer panels featured, at my count,  46 male writers to 8 female writers, with two all male panels.  (This is counting bloggers and SFX reviewers) I wasn’t the only female genre writer/blogger who was definitely available because she was there, by the way. There were also Suzanne McLeod, Alex Bell,   Amanda Rutter,  Kim Lakin-Smith, Fran Terminiello, Ro Smith (Ro and Fran write for The Girls’ Guide to Surviving the Apocalypse. Oh and talking of apocalypses, Anne Perry was there, she just co-edited an anthology on that very subject! There was a panel on the apocalypse in genre! It was  one of the all-male ones!) Lou Morgan was there, as was Danie Ware. I think Elspeth Cooper may have been there or at least wanted to go-- if she didn’t make it in the end perhaps an invitation would have helped! And  that isn’t anywhere near a comprehensive list -- these are just ones I happen to know about, and there were thousands of people there. I’m sure there were more. As for women writers who might have been able to attend if asked, who knows?

...And I wouldn’t mind that so much if I hadn’t watched a steward at a panel hand the mic only to male audience members, walking right past several women with their hands up, when the panel was thrown open to questions from the floor.

And I wouldn’t mind that so much if there hadn’t been all those half-naked women on stilts, (not cosplayers doing it for the thrills, entertainment paid for by the con) roaming around, and no half-naked men on stilts. And I wouldn’t mind that so much if there hadn’t also been girls wearing nothing but flashing lights strapped to their breasts and groins, dancing on the stage for the crowd’s edification at the final disco.

Terrified Undaunted by reports the night temperature may drop to MINUS TWELVE, I repair to Prestatyn for the SFX Weekender.  In a glorious display of herd mentality commonality of purpose, pretty much the whole of the science fiction industry will be there too. Why Prestatyn? Why a Pontins? These are question for the bards to ponder down the ages.  What will we do there? Well, mostly sit around, drink, talk shop, establish whether the Doctor or River Tam would win in a fight, watch the ladies in gold spandex on stilts and the  animatronic trolls pass us by, and posibly desend into cannibalism. See you there! Or if you’re not coming, pray for us.

I will be the one in the big pink coat. In usual circumstances, I tend to feel that these days I am a little old and sensible for the big pink coat, but thse are not usual circumstances and the big pink coat is ankle length.