Storytellersunplugged

Convention season is fast upon me. Some people go to cons year round. I tend to end up going to cons over the spring and summer. So they all pile up on me and I’m often exhausted by September.

This year, so far I have on the agenda

The World Horror Convention combined with the Horror Writers Association Bram Stoker Awards Banquet. This will occur in Toronto and I’m Mistress of Ceremonies for both.

Eeriecon where I am an author guest. I taped an interview on BUFFALO MATTERS last week which will be aired on Fox on April 1 at 8 am for those that can get it.

Necon where I am an Author Guest of Honour

And MAYBE I’ll attend World Fantasy Convention, depending on weather and finances by that point since it’s only a four hour drive away this time.

Before many conventions, especially those run by different people every year, like World Horror or World Fantasy, there can be an awful lot of grumbling by people who think cons should be run a certain way. Many people get into routines of expectations and many more get spoiled and feel they have earned certain privaleges just by the mere fact they have shown up year after year.

Cons are run by volunteers.

People who run cons do it for love. They don’t go out of their way to make a shitty con.

I had a lot to say about some grumblings that I’ve heard and seen recently, however, in the end, I posted the essay below on my blog.

I will say THIS.

Cons are fantastic opportunities to meet other writers, to meet editors, to meet publishers, to meet fans, and to let people put a face to the name.

Regardless of how you feel a con is organized, remember, the main reason to go to a con is to “get out there” so that people know who you are when your submission crosses their desk.

Remember, be nice to EVERYONE. Today’s shy geeky Wall Flower Up and Comer might be tomorrow’s Mr. Big Editor. When we are still starting out, we remember those who helped us. And when we’re on the way up, we remember those who tried to trip us. I’ve never been at the very top, but I’m sure the view encompasses everyone and you must always remember what goes up, must come down.

At cons, go to panels. Go to workshops. Go to pitch sessions. Try the contests. Introduce yourself to strangers. Shake hands and shower daily.

It’s never, ever a waste of time.

The Zen of Conventions

Over the past twenty years, various people from my ex-husband to co-workers to friends, have told me I should run a horror convention.

I always laugh and point out there’s not enough money in the world that would let me do that.

For starters, it’s very time consuming.

I don’t have that kind of time right now while I’m in my child-rearing years.

It’s volunteer work.

If I focus on running a convention, I can’t focus on my career, which translates into earning an income. In my child rearing years, I need an income, and I’m a full time freelancer that has to constantly look for work.

It’s thankless.

Everyone is quick to tell you how you are screwing things up. People don’t often take the time to tell you how wonderful you are doing.

Sometimes I toy with the idea of running a con because I know a few things about myself.

I love to organize and it would make me feel happy to bring people together.

I like the idea of an event that I control.

I like the idea of doing things my way.

However, in the twenty or more years I’ve attended conventions of one kind or another, I realize that I don’t have a thick enough skin to run one.

Every single convention I’ve attended I’ve had a fantastic time. It’s because of the people who go.

We may be hanging out at a party, tripping through a haunted house, walking strange streets at 4 am. or eating breakfast drunk out of our heads at 7a m. in a brightly lit diner, playing mini golf, hiding a drink from security on an elevator, (as if they can’t smell the booze a mile away), stealing signs or statues from one area and putting them in another, getting stuck on some weird roof that looked like something out of Logan’s Run, drinking tequila in a Jacuzzi at 3 am in a desert resort, watching a pentagram on someone’s chest burst into flame on stage, stammering while getting an autograph…it goes on.

And there are always the problems.

Every single convention I’ve attended has had problems from the point of view of some people.

There aren’t enough restaurants nearby. The programming sucks. The panels suck. There are too many panels. There are not enough panels. There are too many people on the panels. There are not enough people on the panels. Dealer’s room is laid out wrong. Dealer’s room is too small. Art show is too crowded. Art show is too hot. No one came to the bookstore for the mass autograph. The trip to the desert was more of a horror then the horror stories. They ran out of saugies. The guest of honour wasn’t accessible. There is a dance. There is no dance. There aren’t enough corsets and leather. There is too much goth gear and fantasy costume. The bar closes too early. There isn’t a bar. There are no room parties. The room parties are too loud. There’s no smoking. There’s too much smoke. There’s too much beer. There’s not enough beer. There’s no dope. There’s too much dope. There’s too many off site activities. There are no off site activities.

Oh my goodness, I’ve heard and seen it all.

People have to remember that the bottom line is good grace and good manners.
What goes on behind the scenes is always different then what people see. I’ve been behind the scenes at many cons, in many capacities. As friend, as volunteer. No matter what is falling apart, and believe me, there’s always some thing, there is still magic by that day.

The magic is the energetic buzz of people of like minds pulling together for a common cause.

In my case, the conventions I usually attend are for horror authors. As a writer, I am alone a lot (which is why I’ve gotten back into theatre, for human contact.) It is simply amazing how high I can get walking into a room with a hundred or two or even three hundred other people with brains that pulse with words, just like mine. It matters not if they are famous or new. We are all together in this strange cabal of imagination. Sometimes our temporary leaders give us games to play that we enjoy and other times, we turn away from the experiences offered, like spoiled children refusing to try something new.

It doesn’t’ matter because there are people like you everywhere, in that same hotel, doing what you are doing, eating what you are eating, and breathing each other’s air. You all share a gift of working with your minds, and you get to meet others that are also taking a break from their self-imposed solitude.

Running a convention is a time consuming thankless task. But then again, if someone didn’t do it, we’d have nowhere to go to meet with our soul brothers and sisters.

So we need to thank the volunteers that take it on. And let them spread their own creative wings, and take flight, and perhaps that includes a few little tumbles. Life is an experience. And no one that I’ve ever seen has totally perfected the convention.

And it sure won’t be me, either!