World Horror Convention 2007

"Sausage inna blanket?"

It was the first time in it's history that World Horror was held outside of the United States, and my first since 2002, so it felt a right time to cross the 'lantic, especially considering the number of Brits venturing over (not to mention two of the GoH's, Michael Marshall Smith and Peter Crowther).

I actually saw less of the convention this time around - learning from my mistake in Chicago: you go all that way and spend most of your time in a hotel? Sheesh, what was I thinking?

I flew KLM from Cardiff, stopping at Schipol Airport, on the Wednesday. Not the most auspicious of starts, since I was told the flight was fully-booked and that I would be placed on standby. Thankfully, I got into Amsterdam - never having made a connecting flight before (it had always been direct) I hung around the airport, slept a little, then thought to myself, perhaps I should just check what these "transfer" desks were for....

'Twas lucky that the flight to Toronto was delayed, otherwise I'd probably have missed it. In fact, it was delayed a little bit more..

Two and a half hours later, and drained from a 2am start, I eventually took my seat and experienced the delights of in-flight food and entertainment: food was okay, Casino Royale was cut - rather bizarrely, since the ball-busting scene remained intact yet Bond's line, "the bitch is dead" was removed.

I arrived at the hotel - The Bond Place - at 7:30 that night and upon looking out of my room, I let out a slight chuckle. Prior to booking, I did some Googlin' and a couple of reviews about the hotel remarked that, if you were lucky (!) then you could get a room overlooking the car park where certain ladies of the night would be conducting their services.

Guess where the hotel put me? And no, I didn't see anything... well, maybe something on the last night but it was dark and I was tired. I know, you don't believe me do you?

After a quick shower and change of clothing, I headed for the Marriott - got a little bit lost but a hot dog and quick directions from the seller soon sorted that out.

Made my way to the hospitality suite (note to convention organisers: when doing such a thing, ask for a bigger room) and bumped into Paul Kane and Marie O'Regan who had arranged their marriage a couple of days before. Took my first swig of beer, which tasted fine (but then any alcoholic beverage would've done at that time!) and chatted with Paul & Marie, along with Pete Crowther, George Mann, Steve Jones and Sarah Pinborough - though I was pretty vacant most of the time, the creeping onslaught of sleep depriving my already lacklustre conversation skills.

Realising it was hopeless to resist, I left at 11:30 and wandered back to the hotel, where I slept soundly, refreshed and ready for breakfast.

Meeting up with Stu Young, Allyson Bird, John Travis and Mick & Debbie in the Marriott the following morning, we headed for the local TV station where Simon Strantzas had arranged a tour, and there I met him along with two other local writers, Donald Pulker (from the wierdmonger message group) and his wife Adriana, plus Michael Kelly and his wife. The two Gary's (Fry and McMahon) were staying with Simon and Donald (can't remember who with whom, though).

Despite not knowing who the local television celebrities were, the tour of CHUM TV was nevertheless interesting; the fact that we strolled around, the staff happily going about their business unperturbed at a bunch of Limey's watching them was pretty eye-opening.

Leaving CHUM, Donald and Adriana took us to the CN tower which was just a sight to behold: the view from the top, not to mention the glass floor. It maybe an over-commercialised tourist trap, but it has to be seen to be believed:

Taking a spot of lunch in a pub which employed a waltzing waiter, we took the subway out of the city and into the suburbs to - yes, you've guessed it - a cemetery which was, I have to admit, rather lovely, and not in the least macabre - the number of mausoleums was pretty high.

Returning to the Marriott, we bumped into "Diamond" Dai Price and supped a few beers in the hospitality suite and this was the only real drawback to the Con: the strict Canadian alcohol laws probably put paid to what World Horror is famous for: endless parties and drunken debauchery. There was only one party each night, though on Friday and Saturday (I think) the HWA did organise sometbing... but compared to Chicago, though, the whole convention was pretty sober. We ended retiring to the hotel bar for a decent pint of Guinness.

That was Thursday. Friday I stayed in the hotel, and took in a couple of panels, the best of which was Joe R Lansdale's interview conducted by Thomas F. Monteleone. I've never read any of Lansdale's work before, but that interview put me in the mood to try him out: funny, enlightening; it was a dog-gone shame that it only lasted an hour.

Also met Jason Sizemore of Apex, plus Gill Ainsworth (Apex co-editor) and her daughter, Kim, who I had previously met at the last BFS Open Night.

(My own panel that morning - with Thomas, Pete Crowther, Chris Roberson and Sandra Kasturi - on how to survive as a small press publisher, was the more interesting since I left the discussion to Chris and Pete).

The other panel was horror in sf, which again was very interesting - moreso when the discussion veered off topic, which so often happens.

We left the hotel for the PS Publishing launch, which was a few blocks away in the Merrill library, where Pete Crowther almost pulled Stephen King out from behind a pillar. There I talked a bit with Tim Lebbon and Mark Morris, though I mostly perspired a lot (being a fat bastard, I tend to notice clammy and humid conditions earlier than skinny-malinks). Anyway, we left the party (I didn't buy anything, since I'm already a subscriber to Postscripts - and so should you!) and we ended up in an English pub where we noticed the titulary referenced "sausage in a blanket" which were sausage rolls (and in only half a blanket too). It has to be said that the pub in question was probably the most expensive.

Myself, John, Stu, Allyson, Mick & Debbie and Dai left for the hotel, since everyone else decided to have a meal, and - yes! - we got lost, asked directions (to the wrong Marriott hotel) and I got prepositioned by a big black mamma outside a lap-dancing club. That's not racist, by the way: she was big, she was black, and I'm pretty certain she was a mamma.

I also got growled at by a tramp. Why me?

Anyway, we made it back and straight to the bar...

(The one panel I did want to see, though, was writing for the big screen where apparently Lansdale and Steve Volk had a slight disagreement on novels and scripts... I missed this though because on Saturday, I went too...)

Niagara. Saturday. For reasons known only to himself, Stu said no (along with Ally) so it was just myself, John and Dai, plus Gill and Kim who took the 10am bus to a rather wet and cold place.

And it was fucking worth it.

We made it back in time for the Stokers, which I didn't bother with (but Ally, Gill and Kim all dolled themselves up, plus Brian Keene and other horror luminaries). I wish I carried my camera with me, but it wasn't as compact as the one I took to Chicago (is that a camera in your pocket...?)

Anyway, the awards were announced and - yes! - we ended in the hospitality suite quoffing a few beers until the wee small hours...

Sunday, a day of sombre recollection: the end of the convention, where people said 'bye. Apart from myself, Stu, John and Dai who would stay until Monday:

But if I could turn back the clock then I'd gladly grab a flight out that night instead of accidently tipping over a bottle of beer that night... I lost count how many times I said sorry, whilst mopping up the spilt hops. The laptop continued to work, but the episode did put a dampner on my night, though I did re-acquaint myself with Gene O'Neill, Gord Rollo and John Everson whom I met in Chicago.

Monday, I checked out, though doing a spot of shopping in the Eaton Centre (fricking huge). Thankfully, my flight was on time, but I could not sleep, so just caught up on my readng (coming soon, an anthology.... trust me, it's good!) along with my transfer to Cardiff, and then I arrived home: exhausted, but extremely glad I went.

I would say I'll be going next year, but I think I'll be giving World Fantasy a try: Canada definitely left it's mark on me, and Calgary sounds an interesting place...

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