Mari Ness's Blog, page 11

To answer the other question

"Have you ever gone to a con that got the disability things right?"

Actually, yes - Gen Con and Megacon. So, yes, it can be done.

To answer what seems to be everyone's main question:

"Will you be blogging about the disability issues at this con?"

.....maybe.

Buckingham Palace

Ever since I was a small, small child, I have wanted to go inside Buckingham Palace. So when this trip came up, and I realized that I would actually be in London during the only two months out of the year that the palace is open, this immediately leapt to the top of my must do list.

For most people, getting into Buckingham Palace works like this: you buy your tickets online or there, stand in line, and then go through the tour.

And then there's wheelchair users.

The process for wheelchair users involves several international phone calls, a fragile and tempremental computer system, calls to Chase Bank (ok, this part was just me) and a Special Reservation.

Then you have to get there, a process complicated by the fact that buses don't stop by Buckingham Palace.

I made it to Westminster Abbey by very mundane bus - I know, not royal, but cheap - and then took a cab - it's not that far, but I figured that if Catherine Duchess of Cambridge rode from Westminster Abbey to Buckingham Palace I could too. (Also it is slightly uphill). The cab actually can't drop you off that close, so this meant more bump bump and working through crowds.

The wheelchair entrance is nowhere near the main tourist entrance, so, bump bump bump.

And then:

1. Talk to a cop.

2. Talk to a Palace person.

3. Palace person verifies you.

4. Palace person makes several Important Calls by Radio.

5. A Special Golf Cart is radioed over.

6. You roll into the Golf Cart and get Strapped In.

7. That big elaborate entrance in all the photos? You get driven through that and into the inner corridor.

8. More Elaborate Radios to let everyone know you have arrived.

9. You are then wanded and searched (I assume this happens on the regular tour as well.)

10. If you use a mobility scooter, at this stage you are put on a special Buckingham Palace wheelchair.

11. Everyone else is offered a royal Choice of Ramps: the steep ramp (eek) and the not steep ramp, which can be reached only after gravel.

12. Lift one awaits.

13. Lift one requires FOUR separate people to operate: the person on the ground, the person in the upstairs hallway (actually the statue hall or something like that - I was so in awe at the proceedure that I forgot the name) and two people to operate the lift.

(Most of you, incidentally, would look at the lift and say - but it's just one button! - You would have a point, but that is not Buckingham Palace.)

14. After lift one you roll over to the full Hall of Statues, where you wait to be escorted for the next step.

15. At this point everyone realized that I still didn't have a paper ticket.

16. The Hall of Statues is technically the end of the tour, which doesn't really matter at this point because now you are getting wheeled down to the Secret Accessibility Room. This requires one person with you, one person to lift the rope to give you access to the door, one person to open the door, and three people inside the room.

17. Even people with tickets must wait at this point.

18. This is a beautifully decorated little side room with priceless furniture and paintings and also a bathroom that Michelle Obama may or may not have used. There was some confusion on this point, but it was supposed to make the American feel welcome so yay!

19. I used it though! That should count.

20. Now it is time for Lift Two. This ALSO takes four separate people, and wheelchair users can only go up one by one. Before you go up you get a little sticker that authorizes you to use the lift. Each sticker has a little number (this is why wheelchair users have to register in advance - space is limited).

21. Radios talk.

22. Once you are Cleared for Lift Two, you go through a Special Door, up the elevator (I have no idea if Michelle Obama ever used this one) then wait to be allowed through the ropes. Then you are pushed through the Painting Gallery (or whatever) to the beginning of the tour.

23. This process, everyone, is a solid 45 minutes.

24. And I haven't gotten to the part where I discuss leaving.

25. Most of the actual tour is amazing. This year Buckingham Palace is also doing the year of the children or something so there was a huge section devoted to pictures of various princes and princesses and their toys which, honestly, was boring. But the rest was just sensory overkill: I would describe it, but painting after painting after silk hanging after painting after silk hanging....There is an amazing, but amazing, picture of Salome holding the head of John the Baptist which I am pretty sure I haven't seen a reproduction of before, and I honestly got a bit lost looking at it; she had a "and what are YOU going to do about this?" combined with a bit ofa "holy )(*^**" look: I'm describing it terribly, but what I can say is that I felt a fierce sense of greed and it's possibly just as well that Buckingham Palace has those elaborate security proceedures. I also got a bit lost looking at the Lawrence painting of Queen Caroline and Princess Charlotte.

Then I had to leave.

If getting in was a procedure, getting out was even more of one. You have to wait, you see, for Lift Two to be ready. Which takes radio time. That got me back down, and I went out and looked over at the gardens but decided not to try them - rain was coming and I was a bit dizzy. Then I went to Lift One.

The Lift One people weren't answering their radios.

I expect that sort of thing doesn't happen to the Queen.

I indulged in another taxi afterwards. To continue the royal mood, after all.

And now, to Worldcon. I suspect blogging will be light for the next few days.

Worldcon/Loncon 3 day 0

Getting here was definitely An Adventure. The Docklands Light Railway is accessible, but finding the lift to get to the accessible part took the combined efforts of seven helpful tourists going round and round and round. And then things got REALLY interesting.

Eventually, however, I did reach the hotel, my extremely elaborate bathroom, and Worldcon, and a Sylvia! We got our badges - FYI, in the unlikely event you are at Worldcon and reading this and not Twitter, the programme participant ribbons aren't here yet, but should be here this afternoon - and then pretty much immediately ditched the entire convention for the cable car ride and Guardians of the Galaxy.

Guardians of the Galaxy, btw, is a really fun film. I want a little Groot. Can I have one?

We did a touch more conventioning afterwards in the sense that we had dinner with some other attendees, before I had to collapse again.

London: the continuing story

So Sunday was not a great day: by noon, I felt that if I heard the phrases "this lift is not in service" or "diversion" once more I was going to cry. This was entirely apart from the growing problem of trying to get to a disabled bathroom (see lift thing). I gave up, had a hellish time getting back to the hotel ("diversion"!), napped, tried again, got dizzy, and really gave up. The entertaining part was stealing WiFi from all of the wheelchair inaccessible Starbucks. A photo essay is coming once I am back home.

I was about to try to flee London altogether for about anywhere else on Monday (France sounds lovely) but as I wrote here, I was determined not to let the London buses totally defeat me. Plus, I had exactly three things that I'd really wanted to do: the Tower of London, Buckingham Palace and Platform 9 3/4. AND I had plans to meet up with fellow writer Fabio Fernandes at some point, and the meet up plans did not say "France."

So, after resting for a long while, off I went to the Tower of London.

I can't take the Tube, so, buses. This has its good points - you see a lot along the way - and its bad points: bus transfers, and the way the bus sounds an emergency alarm when you try to get on or off it. Having said that, Orange County bus systems could learn one thing from London buses: wheelchair users aren't strapped in, which saves everybody time.

Anyway: Tower of London!

It had been twenty years since I'd been there, almost long enough to feel as if I were visiting it for the first time. Which, as I soon realized as I went BUMP BUMP BUMP BUMP and then BUMP BUMP over it, was actually fairly accurate - seeing the Tower by wheelchair is a very different experience.

Since wheelchair users can't access about 60 percent of the Tower, I got a discount. Then BUMP BUMP.

The Tower is currently - celebrating? Remembering? I can't think of the right word - World War I - with a display of metal poppies filling the moat area and various World War I costumed figures wandering around. This was moving, and fascinating, and also, BUMP BUMP.

And bump.

Thanks to that I spent a lot more time listening to World War I stuff than I probably ordinarily would have - it provided nice resting points.

I was tempted to stay below, but a chorus of protests insisted that I get pushed up to the upper levels, so BUMP BUMP past the lines for the crown jewels and BUMP BUMP (you might sense a theme here) As I noted on Twitter afterwards, you don't really realize how big that Tower is until you bump your way through it.

Alas, the Chapel was closed for artistic renovations, but, in an attempt to slow down the bumps, I took pictures, pretended to commune with Anne Boleyn's ghost, and completely missed the approaching crowds. A yeoman warder DID, however, and spotting me and another wheelchair user told us that since two wheelchair users were currently in the only other accessible indoor area, we would instead go to the Crown Jewels.

I am sworn to secrecy on this next bit, except to say, SECRET ENTRANCE. THAT felt like a castle.

It also meant that I got to see the Crown Jewels after all. I must say that the most impressive part of this, for me, wasn't the crowns, but the gilt plate created for the later banquets. So that was cool. And afterwards, another yeoman whispered a great secret to me: that if I headed over to St. Katherine's Docks and followed his very specific instructions, there was a lift.

At this point I did not have any great faith in lifts, but I am glad I did this: that was probably my favorite area of London so far, even if I didn't actually find the lift.

Then it was back to the hotel to collapse a bit and regain my humanity before meeting with Fabio. We chatted. We stopped for dinner. We kept chatting. A chainsaw flew up in the air.

"Uh-"

Said chainsaw was from a juggler clad only in purple shorts, standing up on a ladder, juggling that and three other objects. Oddly NONE of that except for the chainsaw caught my attention.

The epic experience that was doing Buckingham Palace by wheelchair - and I do mean epic - deserves a separate entry. But for now, I think it's time for the next major challenge: me and my suitcase making it on and off the Docklands Light Railway. (And making it to the Docklands Light Railway, for that matter.) Wish us luck.

London: Accessibility and disgruntlement

I still maintain that my decision to do London by bus was not an inherently bad one. The hotel`s myriad other issues aside (questionable WiFi, the ramp, the fact that yesterday someone outside with me tried calling in to get the ramp, which didn't work - although the hotel did at least fix the shower drain, which helped immensely) - the hotel is at least, as Google maps promised, next to a bus station with a lot of buses, and close to another bus station with more buses. Also the tourist buses stop right in front of the hotel, although since the regular buses are free for me I`m using those instead.

Unfortunately, my cheerful "Yay bus!" ran into a few unexpected difficulties: 1, a major cycling event that put several London buses on what is called "diversion" although it is not exactly diverting, 2) various anti-war marches, 3) my belated realization that the words "Aldwych" and "Russell Square" mean different things to different buses, which in the case of Aldwych is particularly exciting since Aldwych is spread out over a hill.

The result of this was an exciting adventure All Over the West End as various people tried, unsuccessfully for the most part, to get me at least close to Trafalgar Square to meet up with Fran Wilde and others. I saw lots and lots and lots of things that are not on the tourist route at all - Liverpool Station, in particular (yes, I know that is not near Trafalgar; that is sort of the point). Also later Westminster Station where I can now say wih pride that i have not just seen, but used, the staff bathroom.

Which leads to the next point. I had actually anticipated that most of my issues with the wheelchair would be at all of the old buildings and museums. As it turns out, not so - with the exception of the British Museum's "oh, yes, that lift HAS been broken for some time" and its cheerful disdain of letting anyone know about this - and my little tour through the kitchens of the National Gallery (which resulted in my choking at the crowds and deciding that under the circumstances, really, just being in the same room with a Van Gogh was enough - although I did get to see my Renoir dancer, which was the main point. Then small children fell on me so I explored the kitchen again.) those buildings have been somewhat manageable.

The restaurants and stores, however, have not been, with stairs. And stairs. And then stairs. I took pictures, including pictures of stores and restaurants that have successfully made disability accommmodations, and those will be forthcoming so you can see what I mean.

Fortunately, I have gotten to hang out with some awesome people, study Catherine Parr's portrait, and today I am meeting with others. And after all, I am in London, and I am not going to let these buses totally defeat me.

London

So, after missing my initial flight, dealing with a flight delay out of Orlando, temporarily losing my wheelchair in Dublin (that was fun), and going through Secret Back Alleyways Through Paddington Station (that actually was entertaining. Like spy stuff.) This is usually the part where I complain about Heathrow, and, trust me, there are several things I could say about Heathrow, none kind, but in comparison I feel that Heathrow's ongoing "Hi! How can we get you to hate this country as quickly as possible" is mild in comparison. Also Heathrow did push me all the way to Heathrow Express, so that was kind.

Unfortunately, the advertised as disabled friendly hotel where I am staying is not quite as disabled friendly as advertised. To get in and out I have to wait for the porters to bring me a little temporary ramp, not kept in the lobby. This also means that they have to realize I'm there, which so far means waiting outside hopefully for another guest to enter the hotel to alert them that I need the ramp. The main hotel restaurant is not at all disabled accessible, and the bathroom - but this should be a cheery post.

It's perhaps not surprising that I have had four separate people come up to me and ask, in excited voices some equivalent of "you are really doing this? Where? How? Does the bathroom actually work for a wheelchair?" All of them know wheelchair users.

My other favorite comment of the past two days: "All the Americans I've met are so friendly which is strange because you always seem to be shooting each other." Yay, USA!

All right. One last visit to the unlit disabled bathroom, and then I am off to See Stuff.

Loncon 3 schedule

It's been brought to my attention that I haven't posted my official Loncon 3 schedule. This is true, mostly because for the most part I was trying to AVOID having an official Loncon 3 schedule. That flopped, if, I'm pleased to say, not too badly. So, the official Loncon3 schedule, in between arriving at some point Wednesday and leaving at some point Monday:

Chivalrous Critics of Fannish Dimensions
Saturday 20:00 - 21:00, Capital Suite 16 (ExCeL)

What makes a good epic fantasy? Does quality of prose matter, or is insisting on literary rigor killjoy and elitist? Is it possible to 'overthink' your experience of reading epic fantasy - or is it patronising to the sub-genre to suggest it should be given an easier ride than other types of writing? What are some of the primary critiques of epic fantasy and how can they be used to improve the genre moving forward?

Myke Cole (M), Liz Bourke, Nic Clarke, Justin Landon, Mari Ness

(I am tempted to show up with some sort of mash-up of The Belgariad and Finnegan's Wake, but perhaps not. I mean, to do that, I'd have to look at Finnegan's Wake again.)

I'm also on as an emergency back up add her to the panel thing, so it's possible this might get extended. I will also probably be making some sort of appearance at one or all the following: the Friday night SFWA reception (given the nature of these sorts of things, the chances that I will be lingering at this event are slim, slim indeed); the Saturday morning 10 am 12 am Strange Horizons Brunch, Fan Village, Tent A; one or more of Strolling with the Stars, assuming accessibility isn't an issue (I'll be Rolling with the Stars, but I feel that counts); and the, or at least a bar during the Hugos, to place large imaginary bets on the Hugos.

Also, my hotel room, for multiple naps.

Uncanny Story, Alphabet of Embers, Clarkesworld

Not that anybody has asked, but: "Hey, what it is like to get solicited for a major upcoming project?"

It goes like this:

1. Email comes in. You read it. It's a request - an actual request - for a poem. You figure the people sending you the email just wanted to cheer you up because you had a crappy day, but, you know, poem! After a couple of reassuring emails you agree, because this is going to be a nice, fun little webzine, right? No pressure. You cheer up.

2. Time passes. You don't think much about it because of myriad and massive computer issues and a few other things. And then the Kickstarter announcement pops up on Twitter. You click.

3. You see the freaking list of solicited authors" and squeak, because this list includes Paul Cornell, Mary Robinette Kowal, Jim Hines, Rachel Swirsky, Scott Lynch (!!!!), E. Lily Yu, Ken Liu, Sofia Samatar, Amal El-Mohtar, several other amazing names and --

Neil Gaiman.

(For the record NONE of this was in the initial email.)

Did we say no pressure? Right.

NO PRESSURE.

3. You realize that you really really really want to read everybody else in this.

Uncanny Magazine!

So, er, go pledge! For everyone else in this.

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Speaking of projects that you should be funding, I'm VERY pleased to note that An Alphabet of Embers, Rose Lemberg's upcoming anthology of Unclassiables, has funded, which also means that the companion book, Spelling the Hours, which is a really cool little thing containing poems about women scientists, has also funded.

What hasn't funded yet, though, is the second stretch goal, which includes music from The Banjo Apocalypse Crinoline Troubadours, which sounds totally awesome.

Plus, the initial books just sound really cool.

(Full disclosure: I submitted something for Spelling the Hours, but to be honest, given the other people submitting to this project, I don't actually expect to be in it since Rose has such an amazing wealth of talent eager to work with her to choose from. Which right there says everything you need to know about her editing skills (i.e., excellent.) However, I AM in one of the incentive books, Here We Cross, so if you've always wanted a copy of that, this is an excellent opportunity.)

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And since this has turned into a pimp out worthy projects post, Clarkesworld Magazine is very close to publishing three more stories every four months thanks to Patreon support; they only need a couple hundred more dollars in pledging to make that goal. I'm an obvious fan of Clarkesworld, not just because they've published me twice, but because they continue to publish outstanding fiction every single month, forming a large part of the stories I nominate for the Hugo and Nebula awards, so I highly recommend this, if you can. And you can always buy Clarkesworld directly from various online retailers as well.

(Though, full disclosure again: this is a bit of an incentive for me as well, since it might get me over my current "AUUGH I CAN'T WRITE SCIENCE FICTION" if I know people like a zine that I've published science fiction in to support it through Patreon. But mostly, you should be supporting Clarkesworld since they are publishing such groundbreaking work.)

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(I have to write a poem for a zine that also solicited a poem from Neil Gaiman. NO PRESSURE.)

(ok maybe pressure)

Survival

My little flash story, Survival, popped up at Goldfish Grimm over the weekend, along with a short interview with me.

In other survival stories, I left the house today thinking, oooh, the sun is still shining. I won't get wet. YAY ME.

Ten minutes later I was soaked completely through, and I do mean completely (well, my butt was kinda covered by the trike, but still.) We're talking every inch of clothing totally plastered to you soaked. Water dripping from my nose soaked. Having to stop because I can't ride the trike in heavy rain soaked (the rain gets on my glasses.)

During all of this?

Sun.

Still.

Shining.

Ok, that didn't last too long - the clouds swept in - but Florida. Where you can be in the sun, and still be wet.

But I now have my bananas, which was the main point of going against Florida's weather, so all good.