D’you see
what I did there...?
So, Emerald
City Comic Con was a few weeks back,
Wondercon’s this weekend, and we’re kinda lunging full force into the
spring con season (followed by the summer con season, the fall con season...). I think I may be doing eight or nine cons
this year, which may be a new record for me.
I love
cons. I think I went to my first
convention, in Boston, for my thirteenth or fourteenth birthday. I met artist/writer Dave Cockrum (who gave young me some career advice), a few Marvel editors, and Matthew Waterhouse (who played
Adric on Doctor Who back in the day). And we
won’t talk much about when that was, but I’m pretty sure Reagan was president
at the time...
Over the
past couple of years, though, I’ve been seeing conventions in a whole new
way. I started going as a vendor,
hawking my books to whoever I could attract over to my little folding
table. Nowadays I’ve hit the point where
more of my con time is panels and signings.
If I happen to be at a table, it’s not quite so much work to get
somebody to talk to me.
Anyway,
while my experience isn’t exactly overwhelming, I thought it might be cool to
toss out a couple of convention tips I’ve gleaned over my years of con-going,
seeing things from a few different angles.
But I thought I’d divide them up a bit.
Today I’ll talk about attending cons as a fan, next week as a vendor,
and that last week I’ll talk about the holy grail—being a guest of the con.
Sound interesting?
Sound interesting?
Well,
good. ‘Cause that’s how I’m doing it.
Let’s start
with the basic form of con-attendance—as a fan.
1) Be aware of my surroundings – Soldiers and police have a great term called situational awareness. Really simply put, it means I’m being constantly aware of what’s going on around me and how it might affect me... or vice-versa.
1) Be aware of my surroundings – Soldiers and police have a great term called situational awareness. Really simply put, it means I’m being constantly aware of what’s going on around me and how it might affect me... or vice-versa.
This
ability can make me a convention ninja, no joke.
If I’m
going to wander around the con for a day, I should at least try to be
aware of the other people around me. At
a crowded convention, all it takes is one person who decides to stop in the
middle of a busy aisle or intersection.
I don’t want to be the person everyone’s glaring at... or deliberately
slamming their shoulder into.
Another
factor here—what have I brought for bags?
We all have something at cons. I generally just have a messenger bag, but
lots of folks have whatever big bag they’re handing out with passes. I’ve even seen a couple folks wearing
backpacks that are probably larger than you’d need to spend a summer
backpacking in Europe. There’s nothing wrong with any of these, I just need to
be aware of how much space they take up. Suddenly those random stops or turns
make me a serious menace (and a major annoyance).
Also, most
cons are going to have limited dining facilities. I really shouldn’t camp out for an extra hour
after I’m done eating. I know this is a
tough one, because so many big cons—looking at you, SDCC—have very, very
limited places to stop and rest. Once I
actually score a table, there’s a mad desire to hang onto it as long as
possible. I just need to remember—everyone else wandering around feels exactly
the same way.
2) Be respectful of everyone’s time—Most con events are timed one way or another. Panels and autograph sessions are rarely more than an hour. Even vendor interactions don’t last long—they’re generally trying to manage a large area and juggle numerous potential clients at once.
If I’m
spending five minutes at the microphone or in front of a line or even in
front of somebody’s booth... that’s a big chunk of time. We’ve all been there
when that guy gets up in front of the panel and talks for three minutes before
getting to his question. I’ve seen
people argue their case for submitting book manuscripts and art samples at publisher’s
booths, no matter how often the random marketing intern has to explain they’re
not the person for that. I’ve watched
people stand dead center in front of a booth, talking to the vendor for ten minutes,
then admit they don’t have any money.
3) Don’t be creepy—Okay, I know this is a tough one because nobody... okay, most people don’t think they’re being creepy. Just remember—not everybody likes it. No, it doesn’t matter what kind of con it is. I just really need to be honest with myself when I engage with cosplayers, vendors, professionals, con staff. How am I coming across?
No, not in
a perfect world, in this world. How are people going to react to what
I’m saying or doing? Is that woman really
going to be happy I wrapped myself around her or pinched her ass? Is that
vendor really going to be pleased that I stood by his booth breathing heavily
for twenty minutes? Is it okay that I keep staring at that woman’s cleavage?
Yes, a lot
of these involve women—go figure! It's kinda sad how many times this has to get brought up. No staring, no touching, no rude comments. If I’m trying to justify how whatever I’m
about to say or do is okay... I’m probably doing something creepy.
Seriously, don’t be creepy.
Seriously, don’t be creepy.
4) Remember, everyone here is human—Yes, even that
artist/writer/actor I’ve worshipped as my personal god/dess for the past five/ten/twenty years. Some
people aren’t dealing well with the crowd.
Some need to hydrate. Some
people need a drink of the other variety.
Some folks are just tired—cons can be exhausting. Maybe they’ve answered that same question I
just asked fifty times today.
If someone
seems annoyed or they get a little short with me, I should try to give them the
benefit of the doubt before tweeting about what a horrible person they
are. Granted, maybe they are a horrible
person—they’re out there, sure—but there’s a good chance they’re just kinda
burned out.
And let’s
not also forget that... well, maybe I already messed up one or two of those first
three rules.
So there’s
that. Four simple rules that can make me
a lot more popular at a convention. Or,
at the very least, not as annoying.
Remember
them at Wondercon.
And come
back in a couple days for my next pearl of writing wisdom.
Until then,
go write.
I was pretty bummed to hear about Matthew Waterhouse's death. I did find some comfort in how, after the fire started in the convention hall, he selflessly remained behind trying to get the sprinkler system activated. Matthew almost pulled off, too.
ReplyDeleteI'm sure he was bummed to hear about it, too...
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