It’s That Time of Year Again!
I can’t believe it’s that time of year again!
This weekend in September is a routine punctuation point in our year and it has been since the late nineties, but it is now one of the last. Gone are the days when our lives were ruled by the school terms and holidays, by half term weeks and Baker Days, by bank holidays and snow days and teachers’ strike days.
GamesDay UK is the last man standing.
This is my fourteenth consecutive GamesDay, so it must be the husband’s sixteenth-plus. That seems like a lot of years, and I was a youngster when I began turning out for these events. I was a young woman, who was regularly stared, and even pointed at, and The Black Library, the publishing arm of Games Workshop hadn’t even been conceived.
I love GamesDay; it’s probably the closest we get to the husband’s public, the closest we get to the readership, in its ‘en masse’ form at least. Many of the ten thousand bodies in the NEC belong to fans of the tie-in fiction that Dan and I write for the Black Library, stuff about warriors and monsters that entertain the gamers, men, boys, women and girls who spend their imaginations on these extraordinary universes. Don’t think it’s not time well spent. Don’t think they’re all geeks and nerds, which they probably are; don’t think they’re not incredibly creative, funny, engaged people, because they are. And don’t think we won’t have a bloody good time talking battle strategies and discussing the merits of particular regiments or the weaknesses of various foes. Don’t think we won’t all cry, “WAAAAARGGH!”
They love the husband. They love him so much, they hold him in such high regard that they stand in queues for hours waiting to shake his hand, have their photos taken, ask a question and get a book or two signed, and he loves them back... every one.
It’ll be a bloody good day.
So, we’re off to Birmingham. I’ve left the house tidy and the chirpy house-sitter is ensconced. Lovely chap. We’ll jump in the car, packed full of stuff to drop off in Leicester for the dort, and we’ll have lunch with her and her flatmates and her boyff (just to make sure she’s fed), and that’ll be very, very lovely.
Then I’ll brace myself, because it’ll be a full-on couple of days, and I’ll need a day or two to recover when I get home. The first one of these I did was thirteen years ago, when I was in my mid-thirties, when I could carouse with the best of them. Now I have to pace myself, but it’s bloody worth it.
Battle reports to follow!