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The following was pseudonymously posted last month on the AbsoluteWrite board, a hangout for aspiring writers.
Semi-random bits of advice for writers attending their first SF conventionAddenda: Sartorias (who is Sherwood Smith) offers her own advice for congoing writers. So does Michelle Sagara.This began when HollyB posted:
“I’m interesting in attending Noreascon Four in Boston over Labor Day, and I was wondering if anyone had any advice for a newbie writer planning to attend. I know it’s primarily a fan convention, but they have an academic program as well (although I can’t seem to find a schedule or list of talks on the website). Is it possible to meet editors, agents, or other writers there?”1. General Theory:
Fiction is fiction, publishing is an industry, but the science fiction community is an old and complex social continuum. You don’t have to become a virtual citizen of that virtual commonwealth in order to sell fiction; but if you attend one of their conventions, you’re on their turf. The attendees at that convention aren’t there to worship science fiction and the people who create it. They’re there to see each other, and to talk about SF and fantasy and related subjects. If the only reason you can imagine going to a convention is to promote your career, stay home. The benefits won’t repay your cost and effort, and your attitude will irritate the natives.
Some other communities use the worldcon for their own gatherings, in effect piggybacking on the convention. This can be hard to distinguish from interest groups within the SF community. As a rule of thumb, events that have official existence are listed in the convention program. (Note: the program notes are never perfectly accurate.)
Fan, academic, professional, and conrunner are not mutually exclusive terms. Some of the most respected members of the community have neither professional sales nor academic credentials. To quote Kate Nepveu, “Cons are for having fun, catching up with old friends and meeting new ones. Period. (SF fandom is remarkably egalitarian, though not perfectly so.)”
Be nice to the people running the convention. They’re not getting paid.
The cost of having you at the convention is not covered by the price of your membership. The shortfall is covered via free labor. The World Science Fiction Convention is the largest volunteer-run annual convention in North America. Cons are the SF community getting together to interact with itself, and the worldcon is the annual gathering of all the tribes. There’ll be a great many events and activities taking place there, but the core event will be people talking to each other. This will go on till all hours.
If something bad happens to you, go talk to the conrunners. They can’t fix everything, but they can often be very helpful. However, if the bad event is the sort of thing for which you’d normally call 911, be sensible and call 911.
You don’t have to go to the Business Meeting, though you’re allowed to do so if you want. You can’t go to the SFWA meeting unless you’re a member. Trust me, it’s not much of a loss.
Every worldcon has at least one major department go into meltdown mode six weeks before the convention. Don’t panic if someone tells you lurid stories about whichever department it is this year. Worldcons have survived some amazingly chaotic episodes.
Tip your chambermaid. Clean up after yourself. Be nice to the service staff. The SF community’s good behavior is one of the things that makes their conventions possible.
2. Personal Maintenance
Early on in the convention’s program, there’ll be an orientation panel for congoing newbies. Go there. Listen. Consider taking notes.
The worldcon can be overwhelming to people who’ve been attending it for decades. It will unquestionably overwhelm you. When things get to be too much, go back to your room and nap for an hour. It’s a sovereign cure. The other sovereign cure is to try some smaller conventions. Boskone’s good.
Another sign of trouble is that you suddenly realize that all your friends hate you, you’re having an awful time, you’ve made a fool of yourself in every conversation you’ve been in so far, and you should never have come to the convention. This is definitely a sign that you should go back to your room and take a nap. When you wake up, things will be better.
If it’s early evening and you suddenly can’t find anyone you know, it’s probably because your friends have gone off on a dinner expedition. Eat in the hotel coffeeshop, keep an eye out for their return, and get yourself invited along on the next one.
Drink lots of water. Take your regular medications on your regular schedule. Carry your vital medical information (if you have any) on your person at all times. Remember to eat at least two meals and get five hours of sleep within any twenty-four-hour period. Spend at least half an hour each day outside the hotel, doing something that has nothing to do with the convention.
If you run out of food money, bear in mind that there are often subsistence-level snacks for people working on the convention. If that doesn’t work for you, get a big jar of peanut butter. Failing that, check out the refreshments in the consuite.
Be especially careful to keep up your fluid intake and get enough sleep in preparation for traveling home. You’ve just been under a lot of stress, and you’ve been exposed to new bugs imported from all over the world.
If at all possible, budget a recovery day back home.
3. Socializing
Don’t go to your first few conventions in the company of a couple of friends who are also new to the scene, or you’ll never assimilate. You’ll come home thinking you’ve been to the convention, but you’ll have missed the interactivity of it.
If at any point things get too confusing or impossible, or if you’re just short of conversation, say “I’m sorry, this is my first convention,” then ask about whatever it is you need to know.
When you need to ask a question, it’s better to pick someone who’s standing around with two or three other people. This will expose you to the fannish enthusiasm for exposition (1 question + 4 fans = 5+ explanations), but it’ll increase the likelihood of your getting reasonably accurate information.
Never decide you’ve been snubbed unless you’re sure the person in question could see and hear you, and was sure you were trying to talk to them.
Nobody knows why this is so, but SF fans have difficulty ending conversations. If you find you need to extricate yourself, a cheerful “I’m sorry, I have to go now” is usually enough.
Don’t say “sci-fi”. It’s “SF”. The community does say “sci-fi” sometimes, but pronounces it “skiffy”. Explaining the social nuances involved is beyond the scope of the present work.
If you want to meet people, volunteer to work. If you want to meet authors and editors, sign up (early!) for their kaffeeklatsches, and attend their readings. Do not attempt to pitch your work to editors while you’re at the convention.
Every community has its jerks. SF has fewer than most, but they definitely exist. Also, every community of sufficient size has scavengers, small-scale predators, and semi-outcasts lurking around the edge of the herd. Exercise normal prudence.
Don’t volunteer to share a hotel room with someone you don’t know well until you get more of a sense of things.
Be discreet with your comments at the Art Show. Artists tend to lurk in the vicinity of their paintings.
There will be private room parties in the evening. Many of these are open to anyone who wants to attend, as long as they behave themselves politely and don’t swipe all the refreshments. If they’re not open, whoever’s doing door duty will tell you so. If they’re not polite about it, they’re the jerk, not you.
The beer and soda are in the bathtub.
People who won’t let you into their circle probably aren’t being snotty elitists. Odds are, they’re a bunch of friends who’ve known each other for ten or fifteen years. They have nothing against you. You just weren’t there, back when, and you wouldn’t get the jokes. Later on, the same people will be hanging out in other, more mixed social situations. Chances are they’ll be amiable and conversable.
The above does not necessarily apply to the field’s celebrities. Some of them get very shy at conventions because they get so much unwanted attention. Other big names in the field will be perfectly approachable.
If someone starts giving you a hard time about being a media fan/wannabe writer/member of any other identifiable group, pay them no mind. They’re realtime trolls. If anyone else were willing to talk to them, they’d have something to do besides harassing you. Ignore them and they’ll go away.
Be kind and polite. Never assume it’s safe to be rude or condescending to someone just because they appear to be a very odd bird indeed. Interpersonal connections in the SF community are complex, multilayered, and wholly unpredictable; and the community itself is notably tolerant of disabilities and personal eccentricities. That very odd bird may turn out to be your favorite author, or the agent you have your eye on, or the editor to whom your novel is currently on submission. They might be one of the field’s mandarin theorists: highly respected, but almost impossible to spot from outside the community. But what you really have to watch out for is the odd bird who was your hoped-for agent’s or editor’s best friend when they were teenage neofans together, or their former spouse and business partner, or their fellow member for several decades now of a small and obscure but oddly influential APA, or their opponent in the worst fan feud in twenty years.
On the other hand, that very odd bird may be bothering you because no one else will talk to him. Disengage, and go do something else that’s more fun.
It's a bit late for the Boskone suggestion to help anyone this year, I think. :-)
I am allowing ideas to percolate for a blog entry/comment thread of Boston tips for Worldcon visitors while I wait less-than-patiently for my domain registration renewal to get through the system. Sigh.
oh, that's fabulous. i had managed to pick most of that up at local cons before i went to chicon, but there are bits in there that i still don't know at a deep enough level to keep in mind while they're happening.
I have never been to a convention (so shoot me--there was an episode where I had to go to other kinds of conventions and I Ioathed the experiences with a deep, virulent, loathe...so never tempted.)
What struck me about this essay is what good advice it is for life in general.
Deep thanks to the poster.
I think that's pretty dead-on, and written in a way that's actually likely to be helpful to the first-time congoer. Short enough to read all of it; no wasted advice (well, the sleeping part might fall on deaf ears); points out some of the peculiarities of fandom without in any way dissing it.
I'd love to find out who wrote it. There's something oddly familiar about the style...
Nobody knows why this is so, but SF fans have difficulty ending conversations.
This made me laugh so hard I think I sprained my cerebral cortex. I thought it was just me; I now realize it's a tribal trait. Thank you!
I wish I could go to Worldcon... or any con, for that matter...
2. is missing something:
Wash.
If your housing situation doesn't allow this, something is very wrong.
Big jar of peanut butter? Not bad, but a bag of mixed fruit is about the same price and will keep the weekend.
Don't try to live on party food.
Be tolerant of and concientious toward non-convention goers. Revenge is for the petty.
Sleeping bag zipper entrapment: It may seem counterintuitive, but pulling the zipper back up often does the trick.
I'm wondering who wrote it, too, the person did a marvellous, extremely accurate, and no-axes-grinding, clear-eyed and kindly piece of writing there!
The World Science Fiction Convention is the largest volunteer-run annual convention in North America.
I wasn't entirely sure that this was a correct statement, so I did some research.
From http://www.nesfa.org/data/LL/TheLongList.html,
we can see that the 2002 Worldcon had 5916 people as their total-attended number.
From http://www.concatenation.org/conrev/toreprt.html, we get "Over 4,000 registered for, and more than 3,646 had picked up their programme packs two thirds through, the 61st Worldcon, Torcon 3 in Toronto from August 28th to September 1st, 2003." This was, unfortunately, the best data I could come up with for the number of people at the 2003 Worldcon in Toronto.
Worldcon 2002: 5916
Worldcon 2003: 4000+ preregistered
Otakon (http://www.otakon.com) is a volunteer-run convention celebrating anime, manga, and east-asian culture that has taken place yearly since 1994, lately in the Baltimore Convention Center. Data for the con are available from http://www.otakon.com/history_stats.asp
Otakon 2002: 12,880
Otakon 2003: 17,338
There is not an official total for 2004 yet because the con took place this past weekend. The preliminary numbers I've seen are higher than the numbers for 2003, though.
The totals given are the number of individual, distinct human beings who paid (eg. not staff, not Industry, not dealers, not guests) to get into the convention.
Otakon staff are not paid. The nonprofit corporation that runs Otakon retains an accountant (to do the tax returns) and a lawyer (for contracts and stuff). The corporation also hires a sound/lighting company, some bonded security (required by our venue), and some people to run cash registers at registration. Everyone else (more than two hundred souls) volunteers.
I've been to Comic-Con several times in San Diego--which is really like going to the largest comic book store/mall-for-geeks in the world for four days. I gather that the commercial aspects of Comic-Con are larger than at normal SF cons, since somebody once asked me how big the merch area was, and I had to explain that pretty much the whole of Comic-con (except for the twenty rooms upstairs for panels) was one big merchandising free-for-all.
But I've not actually been to a typical SF convention (if there is actually any such beast) and if anybody here has been to both Comic-con (or APE or any other con o' comics) AND SF cons, I would be interested in hearing the differences between the two.
Do not attempt to pitch your work to editors while you’re at the convention.
If this is so, then Comic-con and SF cons must differ in one respect--Comic-con encourages portfolio review but at specific times and places. There is an orientation panel for getting your portfolio reviewed--generally hosted by the company you are trying to contract with or get your book picked up at--and then you go sign up, wait in line, and watch somebody flip through your work. 99% of the time, they will pat you on the head and send you on your way, but of course, there are stories about people who were discovered at Comic-con. (Or people who were told to give the studio a call afterwards, or whatever.)
Never decide you’ve been snubbed unless you’re sure the person in question could see and hear you, and was sure you were trying to talk to them.
That one is still pretty applicable at Comic-Con. Half the time they can't hear you because of the prosthetic ears and the other half they can't see you because their mask keeps slipping over their glasses.
...
Any tips on what to do about post-con blues? That weird sense that another year has passed and a whole 'nother year has to go by before you and everybody else in this strange little village get to reunite?
I have to say, I think I've been severely warped in my con-mentality by the fact that my regular "home" con is Comic-Con International (Maggie Thompson said the dealers' room was 12 acres this year). I keep thinking a Worldcon would make for a nice cosy change of pace.
Another sign of trouble is that you suddenly realize that all your friends hate you, you’re having an awful time, you’ve made a fool of yourself in every conversation you’ve been in so far, and you should never have come to the convention. This is definitely a sign that you should go back to your room and take a nap. When you wake up, things will be better.
So very true. Burningman emphasizes this also by saying something like, "If everyone around you is vile and obnoxious, it's not them, it's you. Drink some water. Get a nap."
I looked for the exact quote in various places on the Burningman web site, but could not find it.
Christopher, the style sounds familiar to me, too. Given the nature of the advice being dispensed, odds are good that it's someone we'd recognize.
Hmm. Given that the original appeared in pieces over time, rather than this seamless whole, and given this final seems to incorporate a number of improving edits to make the whole more graceful, and given that Someone We Know Around Here is somewhat notorious for honing her stuff to a faretheewell, I think I Have a Theory as to whom the pseudonymous author may be. As noted above, the style is Familiar.
Ulrika, I too was struck by the familiarity of the style. As I'm the sort of reader who doesn't usually pay a lot of conscious attention to style, I wasn't confident enough to say anything, until you spoke up.
Then I went and read the original posting, and noticed that HapiSofi (the author's pseudonym) responded to a question about attribution with:
As the man said, I've written Gandalf is here in signs that all can read from Rivendell to the mouths of Anduin.
And when asked if [s]he would be on any panels, said:
Unless Noreascon's amended their posted program listings since last time I looked, the name "HapiSofi" is nowhere to be found in them.
Hey, somebody's got to be the audience.
I suspect that appearing on panels while simultaneously representing your alter ego in the audience is particularly taxing!
Ulrika, I wish I could say thanks (I think); but if you'll read farther on in that thread, you'll find Hapi's own unified and rewritten version.
PicusFiche: everything about Comic-Con is larger, not just the dealers' room. The programming was, what? twelve tracks? The Hall H held 6500 seats, and Room 20 and 6AB both held over 4,000 each, still leaving another 20 or so rooms for the rest of the programming, films, anime, film festival, gaming, etc. That the dealer's room was 12 acres this year (or so Maggie Thompson said) is just proportional to the well-over 75,000 attendance.
Comic-Con is an aberration. It's huge, a behemoth, a monster of cons. But it's not necessarily any more commercial than other cons. In fact, less, given that it's also a volunteer-run (well, mostly. There is a small paid staff, because it's so huge) and non-profit, and the Expo (trade show) is now a thing of the past.
The difference, I think, between Comic-Con and a "regular" con would be the size and focus and noise level. Most cons will be smaller, narrower, and quieter. And therefore, more socializing can occur.
Comic-Con, back in the early '80s, was smaller and quieter (although not necessarily narrower. The animation, Hollywood, gaming, and anime sects were already well-established at that time), and there was a great deal more time to breathe in the gaps and get to know your neighbors, rather than the full on Disneyland-like onslaught we currently have.
As for post-con blues, you gotta learn to dead dog. Or find other cons to go to. (Hair of the dog?) Personally, I use my Recovery Day to float in a pool, go to a beach, or find some really good sushi.
I have found Comic-Con to be significantly more commercial than other cons I've attended.
That was a turn-off to me for many years, because I thought commercial would mean bland, passionless and beige. A big McMall of cons. Because of those assumptions, I didn't spend a significant amount of time at ComicCon until this year, even though I live in San Diego.
This year, I attended the con for several hours each day for two days, and I saw that the con is, indeed, commercial. But it's very colorful and vibrant. People go to ComicCon to sell and buy and shop, but what they're selling and buying and shopping for is art that they're passionate about. It ain't McDonald's hamburgers.
I took a few pictures. Wish I'd taken more. Picture I wish I'd taken: a big guy walking down the main convention center promenade. His face and body were completely hidden by his costume, a voluminous robe with an elaborate mask of some tusked, pig-like demon or alien. And he was drinking a Starbucks Frappuccino through a straw.
Disclaimer: As I said, I haven't spent much time at Comic-Con. And I don't go to many sf conventions. But I'm just sayin'.
I've been going to cons on a very small scale (1-2 per year) since 1996. The thing that has impressed me most over time is "the community itself is notably tolerant of disabilities and personal eccentricities." People in the SF community have an amazing number of health problems, and the community accommodates them without batting an eye. (I got scolded once for refilling a dish that had contained peanut M&Ms with regular M&Ms without washing it--an attendee might be deathly allergic to peanuts.) This trait can be called inclusivity.
Very important addition: make sure to bathe. At Chicon in 2000, I swear that 1 out of every 10 people I ran into failed to bathe for the entire con. It wasn't fun being around them and you could always tell when one was coming by the large empty space that would open as they moved. And the people you will want to meet at the con will be appreciative of the act as well.
People go to ComicCon to sell and buy and shop, but what they're selling and buying and shopping for is art that they're passionate about.
Mitch: thanks!! That's much more on the money than what I said.
One of the reasons I continue to attend Comic-Con after two decades is that it annually reminds me of why I love comics, and that there's always more out there than I think there is. (This year's fave bagged kill: Craig Thompson's Carnet de Voyage).
To follow up on flaime's comment, here's a guide to con hygiene from a very sarcastic web comic.
I read this con-going advice as someone who's never attended a big SF con, but who does attend the yearly Origami-USA and National Puzzlers' League conventions. Excellent advice!
Someone in the NPL said, at his first convention, "Oh! This is where all the people from my home planet went!" I have to assume this happens to people at their first Worldcon, too.
Inclusivity, yes. Tolerance. A desire to interact with that person that supersedes mere issues of disability.
One of the happiest conversations I ever had at a convention was between me (good vision, poor hearing), James White (normal hearing, nearly blind), and Chuck Harris (normal vision, profoundly deaf, hearing-impaired speech). What I said to Chuch had to be written out by hand, and I repeated it out loud as I wrote it so that James would know what I'd said. My hearing had gotten bad enough that I was having trouble making out what Chuch was saying, but James translated for me, repeating Chuch's remarks in a discreet undertone. And I wrote out James's remarks to Chuch, because I had the writing pad, and because I could see what I was doing.
Would I rather have been talking to people with normal sight and hearing? Only if they were Chuch and James.
Quite right about the need to nap. May I amend: If you're not staying at the hotel you can't nap (I had this problem at one con) so sleeping late on Saturday morning before going in to the con is a good idea.
With our hostess's indulgence, I'm going to paste over my own further comments on that thread, in case people don't click over:
* I've found I can only attend two panels in a row before I start getting antsy and contrary. Your mileage will almost certainly vary, but consider making a list of x < 10 panels/readings you absolutely *must* go to and working around it. Flexibility is a good thing regardless.
(This might be easier once program participants are added to the schedule, though knowing that X or Y gives good panel is a matter of personal experience and preference.)
* At really good panels, I find myself wanting to raise my hand all the time. Don't be that girl or guy; there are other people in the audience. If you're really enthused and have more comments than you can decently interject during the panel, go up after: "that was fascinating, you're probably heading off somewhere, but will you be around later to talk some more?"
This works for meeting other enthused audience members, too.
Failing that, come back here / to LiveJournal / to Usenet /etc. and start a discussion about it. =>
* If I see that an author I like is having a signing, or is going to be on a panel, or doing a coffee-thing, I get an opening question or comment ready ahead of time; it makes me feel more confident. I don't bring books for signings, but I often get in lines anyway: "Hi, I don't have anything to be signed, but I just wanted to say that I like your books. Also, I was wondering [fairly specific thing, especially if there is a big line]."
* There may be two really interesting-sounding panels on at the same time. This happens; flip a coin. There may be two really interesting-sounding panels on at the same time that seem to have very similar target audiences. This might be worth contacting programming politely over (last Boskone, it was "Worldbuilding in Historical Fiction" and "Mixing Fantasy and History"; one was moved back an hour).
* Wear your badge where we can read it, please. I had a long conversation once with a very nice person who wore his badge on his belt on the side and to this day I have no idea who he was.
[It was at the 2002 Tor Party, a medium-high white guy with non-dark hair. You here?]
* The food court in the Prudential Center, in February, had quite good Indian food with *enormous* naan.
* The Higgins Armory does cool demonstrations.
Another sign of trouble is that you suddenly realize that all your friends hate you, you’re having an awful time, you’ve made a fool of yourself in every conversation you’ve been in so far, and you should never have come to the convention. This is definitely a sign that you should go back to your room and take a nap. When you wake up, things will be better.
Yes, oh yes. It took me years to figure this one out. If you know yourself for an introvert, be prepared to spend and hour or two/day in your room by yourself recovering from people overload.
MKK
Brenda writes: " People in the SF community have an amazing number of health problems, and the community accommodates them without batting an eye. (I got scolded once for refilling a dish that had contained peanut M&Ms with regular M&Ms without washing it--an attendee might be deathly allergic to peanuts.)"
That has nothing to do with fandom. Peanut allergy is increasingly common, and is the most commonly fatal food allergy.
You may have noticed that airlines have, for the most part, stopped serving peanuts, and it ain't because their seats are filled by fen with weird conditions.
Never decide you’ve been snubbed unless you’re sure the person in question could see and hear you, and was sure you were trying to talk to them.
Yes indeedy. One of the first things I am going to do is find somebody making buttons and pay them to make me two buttons that say, "I'm not snubbing you; I'm lipreading, and I didn't see a word you were saying. Really," or something like that. Over the years, I have learned to bring up the hearing impairment issue, because apparently I lip-read well enough that people frequently figure I am blowing off questions that I have no idea they have asked me (from the side, from behind me, or just from a direction I was not looking).
Oh, and I am fairly selective about dinner expeditions these days, not just because too many people in one leaves me hopelessly out of the conversation, but also because trying to lip-read people who talk with their mouths full puts me off my dinner. Also, at least one meal at the convention I go by myself, if I am feeling overwhelmed and exhausted by lip-reading so much. It's fine if people who see me there want to invite me to join their bunch, but it's also good if they don't mind if I decline sometimes because my eyes are too full and my brain is tired.
In a way, having a hearing loss at a science fiction convention as big as a Worldcon is at its bad moments rather like being a permanent neo in a room where everybody is too busy to answer questions from somebody who seems a bit slow to them. Also, fans are too often unwittingly cruel to anyone whose disability or presentation resembles lack of smarts. (I'm a fan, and there are definitely some culpas for mea in that last statement too.) Unless people know or can guess that I am hearing-impaired, they seem to make an assumption about the time I ask for my third repeat, and that assumption is that I am not bright enough to warrant the effort it would make to converse with me. This bugs me less than it used to, because mostly I don't care to waste time giving a fuck any more, but it still occasionally gets me to burst into tears.
I'm still looking forward to the convention, though. A few bad moments don't spoil a good time in general.
The "two meals and five hours of sleep" rule is an old one, along with the advice that it's important not to get them backwards. That may seem funny, but when you're at a WorldCon, it's all too easy. It's happened to me more than once. I haven't tracked down the origin of the quote. Maybe it's Tucker's Neofan's Guide.
That daily shower is a nice courtesy to your fellow fans, but as a courtesy to yourself, I strongly recommend obsessive hand washing. Normally I don't make a big deal of it, but when I spend a week with several thousand of my closest personal friends, it's nice to come home with only the things that I actually wanted to pick up. A good way to remind yourself to wash your hands regularly is to drink plenty of water. When I get to the con, I buy a six pack of two-liter water bottles, cheap, and carry one in my backpack or tote bag.
I gotta go.
Elise, every fan I know who's hearing-impaired puts in a lot of decompression time at conventions. Same goes for being hearing-impaired anywhere else: major stress.
Brenda: I got scolded once for refilling a dish that had contained peanut M&Ms with regular M&Ms without washing it--an attendee might be deathly allergic to peanuts.
Jon: That has nothing to do with fandom. Peanut allergy is increasingly common, and is the most commonly fatal food allergy.
Brenda again: What I wanted to say was that the manager of the con suite *cared*. In other places and times--parties, salad bars, buffet lines, and what not--the philosophy is usually "You're on your own." (I exclude airlines from this--I think they have come to care about Not Being Sued due to peanut allergies.)
Another sign of trouble is that you suddenly realize that all your friends hate you...take a nap. When you wake up, things will be better.
That's also pretty good advice for out-of-con, too.
If you absolutely can't bring yourself to nap, then drink a glass of juice. A friend recommended this to me for badbrainchemicals once and it works a treat.
Naps are good. Or even just spending a quiet half hour in your room, emphasis on quiet. I commute to Baycon rather than staying in the hotel, and get very tired by the end of the day. This year I had friends there who *were* staying in the hotel, and it made quite a difference to be able to go and sit in their room for an hour. Even with several people in the room, it was amazing how restful the difference in noise level was.
Water. Carry a water bottle. I've been hungover, and I'm teetotal. It's because I often don't drink enough, and carrying a water bottle and making sure I refill it often enough to give me at least a minimum level of water per day helps avoid dehydration. It's very easy to forget to drink enough water.
Same goes for being hearing-impaired anywhere else: major stress.
Far too true, Teresa. I used to love crowd scenes, but these days I have to be careful. Slight hearing loss in my left ear and severe loss in my right (combined with some tinnitus and Meniere's in that ear) results in a complete loss of binaural hearing with just a little white noise mixed in. (There isn't enough of a problem on the left side for a hearing aid, and no use for one on the right.) It's not just that I don't pick up stereo anymore. Binaural hearing allows you localize sounds, to pick one voice out of the noise. I can't do that anymore.
I have to carefully ration my exposure to noisy situations now, as an hour or so trying to keep up with conversation in a noisy restauraunt is enough to make me consider new uses for the steak knives.
TomB, I bring (can't remember the brand name) wet wipes in individual foil packets to cons. I find there's always someone else who can use them, too.
The doctor makes me drink 32oz of Gatorade a day and I was looking at the dry stuff and taking a tupperware container to mix it in when I go to Minicon, but DDB volunteered to buy it for me before hand. Many thanks to him.
One of the best things cons can have is big red leather chairs & sofas. There's nothing like having comfortable places to sit & talk.
Binaural hearing allows you localize sounds, to pick one voice out of the noise. I can't do that anymore.
Claude, I found out the hard way that it is possible to lose the ability to localize sounds even if both ears have the same (limited) amount of hearing: I wore hearing aids for a few years, and my localization went away and has never really come back, though I stopped wearing the hearing aids more than five years ago.
I have to carefully ration my exposure to noisy situations now, as an hour or so trying to keep up with conversation in a noisy restauraunt is enough to make me consider new uses for the steak knives.
I know that one! What with the lip-reading, I generally have a choice between trying to keep up with the conversation, or giving up on it and actually being able to eat, seeing as how eating requires that I glance at my plate now and then, which is enough to make me lose any bearings I had in the conversation.
People who can hear have no idea how much work is involved in not hearing well. Even aside from the work of conversing, there's always the necessity to be alert enough to notice when other people are reacting to stuff that's probably sounds I can't hear. "Dog whistles," I call those things I can't hear. Enough of them are matters of safety and/or courtesy that I have to watch a little bit all the time, or risk, well, a lot more than people who hear risk when they don't habitually glance around regularly.
Thank you for posting all this useful advice. I haven't been to a con in 15 years. Not being one for halfway measures, I thought Worldcon would be a great occasion with which to begin my return to active fandom. And now it will.
I've been to three WorldCons but never in the States. I thought I had it sorted, but now I'm terrified! :-)
Teresa, as usual, you have good taste in selecting material. I also asked the writer for permission to use that on the Preditors & Editors (tm) web site.
My limited con experience has spawned the following advice:
Don't be afraid to have a goal that doesn't appear to be what you "paid for." The con as a whole is what your membership is paying for, and if that means you miss panels because you're in a fascinating conversation, that's all part of the deal. Don't ruin the conversation worrying about it. And for heaven's sake, if you and your favorite author are comfortably settled in the bar telling each other terrible jokes and having a grand old time, what else do you really truly want out of a con? (Unless your favorite author is also your spouse or parent or next-door neighbor, in which case you might want to hang out with someone you don't get to see all the time.)
If you're going to panels, read the list of panelists. A friend and I discovered at ConJose that "How To Torture Your Characters" is intended to be a quite different and more literal panel if it has Susan Matthews on it.
There are only three reasons to worry about what you wear to a con:
1) you're a costumer or other dress-involved fan;
2) you enjoy fussing about clothes;
3) it redirects other anxieties semi-constructively.
Otherwise, cover yourself legally and comfortably and quit worrying about it.
My "legal and comfortable" in occasions where I don't know very many people well is pretty dresses or short skirts and tops. This is not fan uniform, but nobody seems to care if you're out of uniform. Before my first con, I kept asking people what to wear. And they kept saying useful things like "clothes." It frustrated me. Then I got there and found out they were right.
Claude: Non-localization, yes: all sounds are created equal. It's maddening. These days, we check out the restaurant for sound level before we let the waitress seat us. Failing that, I politely request that they allow me to bribe them to turn down the @#$%! background music.
Elise, the one I stumble over is not being able to tell that someone's engaged in another conversation. Also, I can hear most sounds, just not sort them out, so the hypervigilance thing means I'm forever picking up on weird background sounds no one else is noticing.
The first time I met Dick Giordano -- he'd been inking a book for me -- I shook his hand and said "How do you do, Mr. Giordano. I'm Teresa Nielsen Hayden."
He said something amiable that sounded plausible but was perfectly generic.
I think I grinned at him. "I'm your editor," I said, speaking slowly and clearly, and exaggerating my lip movements.
His assistant, standing next to him, tapped him on the shoulder. "You have to talk to this one," she said.
"My cubicle?" I suggested, pointing toward it.
He nodded, then said, "Are you deaf, or is it someone in your family?"
Dang, that man has a good eye.
"My father," I said, and we went off to talk.
I encourage teen genre writers to go to cons. This advice is exactly what they need to hear before trying WorldCon this year. Thanks so much. For the most part, the teen writers you'll notice in Boston met at the Alpha SF/F/H Workshop for Young Writers and then attended Confluence, a 250-person, Pittsburgh con. It's a big jump from that to a Worldcon. I have a Teen Workshop panel scheduled on Friday morning at 11:00 AM where we plan to meet up. That's my addition to this advice. If you come with a group of friends, decide beforehand one program item a day to attend, in case you get hopelessly separated.
Two other good articles about SF conventions:
Surviving Fandom: A Practical Guide for New Writers (and Fans) by Dr. John L. Flynn and The Survival Kit for NeoFans by S.J. Dudley and Joe Bethancourt.
Every worldcon has at least one major department go into meltdown mode six weeks before the convention.So which departments have melted down for this one? Inquiring minds want to know.
I sigh. I weep. I beat my breast in anguish. A con, readings, panels, parties, friends I've not seen enough in too long. I wish I could go. Especially since I've never been.
I had a low-grade heart attack when I showed up here for my daily morning lurk... and found my AW post.
Thank you Teresa, and the rest of the glitterati orbiting Making Light, for the helpful suggestions. I'll shower, I'll eat at least two meals a day, I'll decompress when overwhelmed. Hopefully I'll be able to squelch my introversion and find the guts to approach people.
Now I'm even *more* curious about the identity of the mysterious HapiSofi...
The only thing I'd add is that it's not nice to hit on everyone you meet. While people can and do meet up and hook up at conventions, it shouldn't be a congoer's main approach to meeting new people. A few times, I've been pitched to and hit on in virtually consecutive sentences, and, speaking entirely personally, this significantly decreases the person's chances of either selling me a book or getting me into bed.
Also, when you are pitching (and people do, despite the "rules" against), or merely being introduced to someone, do try to look them in the face. I know that many congoers and aspiring writers and SF fans are very shy, but really, looking at someone's breasts or crotch is not going to make a good impression, even if you're not _really_ looking at their breasts or crotch, just have your head pointed down . . . .
Random responses and ramblings...
PiscusFische: Any tips on what to do about post-con blues?
Torcon 3 was my first Worldcon in five years. Before my train left Union Station, I made a point to run down to Loblaw's and buy a couple of big packs of President's Choice cookies. That helped greatly with the post-con letdown, if not with the diet.
There might not be another Worldcon for a whole year (or more, depending on your situation), but that doesn't mean there won't be another con. If you're around the northeastern US, Philcon in December is a good refresher.
In the months between last September and now, I've gone from "What, you mean I can't get up today and go to the Worldcon?" to "What, it's only a couple of weeks until the Worldcon again?" without too much notice of the time in between. But my poor brain is still expecting to see Toronto, and will probably not be jarred into sense until I step off the bus and see the Prudential Center instead of the CN Tower.
Kate Nepveu: Wear your badge where we can read it, please.
My first day at Torcon, I wore my badge on one of my side belt loops like Kate's mystery man (wasn't me). When I entered the consuite, the door attendant pointed straight at me and said, "Badge!" I showed it immediately, and the attendant apologized, but I could understand why it was done. After that I wore the badge on my chest. If you're worried that it will look funny, you're in the wrong place.
Julia Jones: Water. Carry a water bottle. I've been hungover, and I'm teetotal.
It is possible to get a caffeine hangover, and they're almost as bletcherous as an alcoholic hangover. Most of the panel rooms have plenty of water available, but it's often a good idea to carry your own supply. I also highly recommend fresh fruit if you're the type to eat it. It will replenish your nutirents and water simultaneously. If you have the time to leave the immediate confines of the convention, just about every major city has a farmer's market where you can buy nice fresh fruit for far less than the extortionate prices charged in the hotel.
Mris: Before my first con, I kept asking people what to wear. And they kept saying useful things like "clothes." It frustrated me. Then I got there and found out they were right.
Over the course of last year's Worldcon, my clothing spanned several gradations between jeans-and-tee and jacket-and-tie. To some extent, the less casual you are, the more you will stand out in the crowd. But then, there are some people who attend cons in formal evening wear because they enjoy doing so. It's possible to make a fashion faux pas at a con, but you have to try really, really hard (and the biggest risk you run is of someone giving you an uninteded award for your hall costume).
a few years ago, i was in russia with my father. we found communicating with the russians we were around to be a little taxing.
my father is losing his hearing, especially in the alto range (so, most women's voices are hard for him) but he speaks a bit of russian. not fluent, but enough so that he can go to russia by himself and not die.
i, on the other hand, have pretty normal hearing for a person my age who listened to some music a little too loud as a teenager, but i speak only about six words of russian.
so, more often than you'd think, the waitress/shop clerk/airline staff would say something to us in russian, my dad would look at me, i'd repeat what i'd heard phonetically, louder and more enunciated, and then my dad would answer them, in russian. oy.
we do this here in the states, as well, but there's just that added, er, challenge when the language you're working with isn't one you speak.
Something else that can help if staying in a hotel room in the winter, is a humidifier, or barring that, take several showers a day to rehumidify oneself, clean being secondary there to avoid getting dried out and sick.
==============
Regarding clothing, people -do- look at the attire someone has on and make assumptions about the person based on it, including "is this someone I want to know/meet/interact with?" Someone in costume that hides their face and features gets "oh what a neat costume!" from probably the same number of people as "that person isn't interesting in show us a person as opposed to a costumed thing and I don't want to deal with a -thing-" reactions.
There are t-shirts and such that identify the wearer as having particular affiliations, such as the the bright turquoise "The INCREDIBLE FLOATING EAST COAST ART SHOW CREW" t-shirts, which identify the wearer as subject to "we need some help setting up/tearing down the art show!" volunteerism.
Wearing a standard business suit for contemporary times tends to mark a person as "other" for identification with Suits of the Real World. Plus, there are perceived comfort levels--business suits have a cliche of "tight in neck and collar and choking tie, the person wearing that is -not- relaxed and it's not conducive to long leisurely meandering conversations.
There is also the dimension of "courtesy to other people" -- it is not kind of someone to wear costumes that they hit other people with, e.g., shields, staves, etc., take up space, and someone who may not be the most-coordinated even when not dressed in sticking-out-costume, may go about leaving other people bruised and flattened in their wake.... having been walked into in a shopping mall by three 6 foot males in separate instances in the same corridor when I was carrying an iron fireplace grate feet out held to my torso, which anyone bothering to LOOK where they were going where LOOKING included being -aware- of Short Females, would have -seen- and -avoided- me. These bimbos of the male variety obviously weren't, and self-blindedly walked into cast iron feet-- those sorts, who can't bother to notice other people even when not in costumes that extend further out from their body than the clothing they normally wear, and prone to casually barging into other people, are even MORE likely to intersect with the hides of other people when carrying staves, shields, etc.
I start walking around with my elbows out, and anyone walking full-tilt into my elbows, gets an elbow in the gut... I got barged into a few dozen times more than I was appreciative of, in The Real World. At conventions, when I see something in a costume who appears to lack awareness of their surroundings, I stay -away- from the person and don't -want- to be near them.
Melissa Singer: Wow, AFAIK I've never been hit on at a con. I'm not expressing disbelief, you understand, just wondering at the difference. Though checking dates, I would have been wearing at least an engagement ring to all of the cons I've been to except Eurocon '97 in Dublin (my very first con), so maybe that would account for it.
Jimcat Kasprzak: I should've said the mystery man was at Boskone, not Torcon. And even front belt loops would be an improvement (I tend to put my badge on my purse strap that I wear crosswise, but I have a new purse this year and it might not be happy with that).
A friend of mine has coined the following aphorism and it is so so true
Being a science fiction fan means never having to say, "But where would I wear that?"
MKK
Kate: It used to happen to me at just about every convention, until a) I got older and b) I spawned, which, even without benefit of partner, does seem to remove one from the target pool. N.B.: I talk about my kid a lot, so even though she's not with me at conventions, her existence is apparent.
The "staring at my breasts" thing still happens, even with my silvering hair and increasing wrinkles.
The "staring at my breasts" thing still happens, even with my silvering hair and increasing wrinkles.
I'm sure if you ask them, they'll tell you that they're just admiring your T-shirt. Yeah, T-shirt.
I'm male, and I've heard people use that one. *rolls eyes*
Paula: yeah, people will judge (or at least categorize) based on what you're wearing. But if it's what you're comfortable wearing, then maybe they'll have the right category.
Kate: uh, no, the ring alone won't do it. (And with the amount of polyamory in fandom, I find that reasonable enough as long as it's polite.) But perhaps an aura of takenness somehow will. Some people seem to have an internal gauge of such things -- not that it's always accurate, of course.
Melissa: I think it's good that fen don't have unreasonable age limitations on what they (we) consider attractive. That doesn't mean I think people should address your breasts instead of your face, but I should hope that manners would be the deciding factor there and not silvering hair/wrinkles.
(Silvering hair is so pretty! My mom's hair is going silver, and it just looks gorgeous, and I wish I thought mine would do that for me.)
I try to assume that people who appear to be staring at my breasts are nearsighted and trying to read my name badge and/or figure out why my name looks familiar. It might even be true, and it makes me feel more comfortable.
Mris:
> But perhaps an aura of takenness somehow will. I think it's good that fen don't have unreasonable age limitations on what they (we) consider attractive. That doesn't mean I think people should address your breasts instead of your face, but I should hope that manners would be the deciding factor there and not silvering hair/wrinkles. (Silvering hair is so pretty! My mom's hair is going silver, and it just looks gorgeous, and I wish I thought mine would do that for me.) I try to assume that people who appear to be staring at my breasts are nearsighted and trying to read my name badge and/or figure out why my name looks familiar. It might even be true, and it makes me feel more comfortable.
If this double-posts, my apologies. Connectivity blip.
Mris:
> But perhaps an aura of takenness somehow will.
I actually think that's part of what happened when I became a mom--I gave off a different aura. Though in the first year after I gave birth, I was hit on a lot! I guess happiness is attractive, lol. (Not that I'm not still happy, but it's not *new* anymore, so it doesn't shine as much.)
> I think it's good that fen don't have unreasonable age limitations on what they (we) consider attractive.
Or a lot of physical concerns. Weight, disability, and looks which fall outside of the mainstream-approved definition of beauty are no obstacle to finding love/lust in the SF community. But age is more of a factor, though not a definitive one. And about to be 45 is still about to be 45. A friend who works in the comics industry tells me that in recent years she has become invisible to men. She's 40 this year, I think.
> That doesn't mean I think people should address your breasts instead of your face, but I should hope that manners would be the deciding factor there and not silvering hair/wrinkles.
LOL (I personally think I'm still cute as a bug, and look younger than my age, but there's no accounting for taste.)
> (Silvering hair is so pretty! My mom's hair is going silver, and it just looks gorgeous, and I wish I thought mine would do that for me.)
We all pretty much go silver, starting in the front (I have a developing Bride of Frankenstein streak at one temple). My maternal grandmother was still jet-black in the back at 88, and my mother, in her early 70s, is the same. I've been silvering since my mid-20s, but it's become a lot more noticeable in the last couple of years, in part because my hair is getting long again and in part because until it hit critical mass, it was well mixed in my brownette coloring.
> I try to assume that people who appear to be staring at my breasts are nearsighted and trying to read my name badge and/or figure out why my name looks familiar. It might even be true, and it makes me feel more comfortable.
I must confess that I am one of those people who does not wear a name badge at chest level. Generally it's on my purse strap and at waist height. This is in part a deliberate effort to decrease the # of people who will pitch projects to me while I am rushing to the bathroom between panels.
Hmm, Andy, do you have a particularly starable chest? I mean, if I wear a t-shirt with text, I want people to read it, and if they're checking out my chest at the same time, I don't mind at all. If eyetracks would mess up my clothes or something I might be concerned.
I'm male (and gay), and I completely realize that it's different for women. You're the first guy I've heard complain that people stare at his chest and use lame excuses; not because it doesn't happen, but because IME most guys don't notice or care.
Kate: "Melissa Singer: Wow, AFAIK I've never been hit on at a con. I'm not expressing disbelief, you understand, just wondering at the difference. Though checking dates, I would have been wearing at least an engagement ring to all of the cons I've been to except Eurocon '97 in Dublin (my very first con), so maybe that would account for it."
Times changing may also have something to do with it, also, different people do get treated differently, some people get hit on, some don't, and who hits on whom is also not generic [that it, I got hit on probably hundreds of time at conventions, but R who was one of the most notorious sleep-around types, I seem to have been one of the few women (not even sure if I should qualify that with "unattached" inasmuch as he was married and had a harem beyond that...) never hit on by him!].
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Food at Noreascon -- in additon to the Trader Joe's across Boylston Street from the front entrance of the Hynes (which is down a level from the first floor of the convention center -- Halls A and B are on the first floor and rooms with 1xx numbers, Halls C and D where the Concourse and Dealers' Room are and the room where the Hugoes and Masquerade will be are on the second floor and 2xx rooms, and the third floor will have the art show and 3xx rooms with programming in them), there is a very large Shaw's Supermarket across the street from the Marriott Hotel (the block east of the Prudential Center/Hynes/Sheraton) which has fresh fruit, sushi to go, a hot food bar, a wine store, etc., in it. Last time I was in it (at Boskone) it was open until midnight weekdays and I think Saturday, and closed earlier than that on Sunday. It superseded the 24 hour except on Sunday Star Market which had been in the Prudential Center (Shaw's bought Star a few years ago. The Shaw's is in less than two year old building that has several hundred residential condos or apartments sited on top of it),
The old open market in Boston is Haymarket, over by the Haymarket subway stop. It was there long before I was a college student, but I expect has changed over the years. It used to be there and Friday and Saturday mornings, and my dormmates would go there to pick up stuff for Hall Feeds --a 20 pound beef roast, vegetables for 30 people or so, etc.-- but you really had to watch for rotten stuff, and some of the vendors were less polite than Durgin Park waitstaff (meaning thatsome of them would -throw- the rotten produce at customers objecting to it...)
Mris: I may well have "not available" stamped in big metaphorical letters all over me; I have no idea (and can't really think how'd I'd find out). I hope they aren't rude letters, at least.
Anyway. I should go back to making my list of two panels per day that I have to go to.
A couple of thoughts from a former road-warrior (I used to travel about 50%+ of my work-week):
Something else that can help if staying in a hotel room in the winter, is a humidifier, or barring that, take several showers a day to rehumidify oneself, clean being secondary there to avoid getting dried out and sick.
Hotel rooms generally are dry. If you wake up feeling as if your eyeballs have been sandpapered, a lo-tech humidifier can be created with your ice bucket and a hand towel - half-fill the ice bucket with water, stick one end of the towel in and and drape the other end somwhere where the water won't be an issue (preferably over the heating vent if it can be managed). The towel wicks water out of the bucket, and the heat encourages it to evaporate into the air. Filling the bath with the hottest water you can get out of the pipes before you go to bed and letting it steam might also work fairly well, but I've never tried that.
On badges: I've never been to a con, but I've been to plenty of less-fun conferences, and I've always been grateful for the people who do badges with your full name/affiliation in regular-size type, and your preferred nick/name in very large, readable type underneath the other data. Keeps the peering closely at one's chest to a minimum.
Xopher, no one's said that to me, only to women I've been within earshot of. Most of the time, the T-shirt is not exceptional. If someone is determined to be sexist, he should at least not be obvious about it. A Korean friend of mine says this routinely, and I'm divided on whether to call him on it because of the cultural difference thingy.
Oh, dear. Should I apologize for designing all those text-intensive t-shirts? They're pretty much guaranteed to get your chest stared at, especially if you're dealing with a slow or myopic reader.
If the T-shirt is really the object of scrutiny, then nobody has anything to apologize for.
Re: getting hit on at Cons, the ring didn't stop it. Spreading news of my engagement doesn't stop it. Sometimes flat-out telling people I'm married does nothing but offend.
I may sound cranky, but I am merely in awe.
What's astonishing is the number of people who think they *are* going to hook up at a Con. What, because I open your soda and say nice things about your story, we're going to bed? Maybe we just have a very slutty group here in K.C. :-)
The only thing that seemed to slow it down was when I started con-going with a (platonic, same-sex, carbon-copy) friend. There has been a lot of speculation as to whether she and I are a couple, and we have done nothing to discourage it. Not recommending it as a solution for everybody, but it worked for me. I'm married, she's single, and the people who bother to get to know us find that out soon enough.
On a completely different topic, I once spent a half-hour talking to Teresa (and Patrick, and Mary Kay) at a crowded mixer and never caught onto the fact that T. was hard of hearing. *Shrug* She was nice to me, too, despite my asking silly questions about fandom.
Could anyone associated with Noreascon comment on the likely indoor temperatures?
When I go to professional conferences, the hotel/convention center is generally chilled to meat locker temperatures, presumably for the comfort of men in suits. SF cons have been more variable - I suppose it depends on the locale. I want to know whether I should be bringing long-sleeved shirts or sundresses!
Holly, I don't recall you saying anything particularly silly -- and I'm pretty sure I heard what you were saying.
elise: People who can hear have no idea how much work is involved in not hearing well.
Preach it, sister.
Teresa: These days, we check out the restaurant for sound level before we let the waitress seat us. Failing that, I politely request that they allow me to bribe them to turn down the @#$%! background music.
One great addition that the San Francisco Chronicle has made to their restaurant reviews is a rating for noise (see the bottom of this page) based on decibel measurement. It's overdue and more reviewers should include this kind of rating.
My friend Lenore is quite hard of hearing. When possible, we get a table against a wall, and she sits with her back to it. She says this helps a lot. I don't know if it's because it cuts the noise from that direction, or if it's because her hearing aids point backward and she gets the bounce from our conversation, but she does hear lots better when we manage that.
Kate wrote:
Wear your badge where we can read it, please. I had a long conversation once with a very nice person who wore his badge on his belt on the side and to this day I have no idea who he was.Patrick and I were just comparing notes, and it turns out we had identical reactions to that: "Sounds like Tom Whitmore." Any chance he's your guy?[It was at the 2002 Tor Party, a medium-high white guy with non-dark hair. You here?
I'm glad you don't remember me saying anything silly, T. The first night of a Con tends to be a big blur for me, afterwards.
Somebody asked about dressing for the climate in the hotel, and I felt compelled to suggest, "layers."
The last con I attended, it was 60 degrees in the main convention area--the ballroom, art room, and three main programming rooms. This was great during the masquerade, as I was perfectly comfortable in full Victorian dress--corsets and all.
On the party floor, however, it was less great. The hotel was apparently turning off the A/C on the unused floors to save money, so all that heat went straight up to the 11th floor. It was easily 80 degrees in the halls and the consuite, even before the bodies started rolling in around 9 pm.
So, wear a tank top, and take a sweater.
Claude, I've always wished restaurant ratings would mention noise level. It'd save a lot of trouble. It might even give restaurants the idea that some of us take that into account when we're deciding where to go.
Christopher, I don't know why it helps to sit with your back to a wall, or in a corner, but it does. The theory that it cuts out noise from that direction seems as good as any.
TNH: sorry, I forgot about fannish defaults in that description. Short hair not obviously receding, no glasses, possibly younger than that but I'm lousy at ages. But thanks.
Re: Size of San Diego Comic-Con dealer/exhibits room. Per the Convention Center online blueprints, the aisles are 100 yards long. Comic-Con has 52 of 'em. So, just to walk down the center of each aisle, not even going side to side to look closely at stuff, is a 3 mile walk.
tyg: the numbers are in. Comic-Con 2004 attendance was 87,000. Also, since I missed it, Chabon's keynote for the Eisners is online.
Does Comic-Con have an all-volunteer staff?
Mary Kay, I always quote *you* as saying:
Being a science fiction fan means never having to say, "But where would I wear that?"
Who said it first?
I once got a hall costume award for something I wore to work before I got sick.
As to badges, Capclave uses the same badges every year, with a little character by Alexis Gilliland, and you have to put your own name on. I even had someone with good printing put my name on with a wide marker last year, and it was still unreadable. I have a note in my Capclave file to bring my carved mother-of-pearl "Marilee" pin.
Teresa - Zagat's mentions ambience sometimes. Used to be "yuppie ambience" meant "unbearably noisy," but I don't know the other codewords.
Even though the Jackson Diner has the best Indian food in New York City (a very high standard indeed), it has the ambience of a high school cafeteria. (The patrons are quieter, but the floors, walls, and tables are pretty much the same.) Therefore I don't recommend it for HOH people.
The noise ratings in the Chron came about during the late 90's when restaurant designers often seemed to aim for a noisy environment to create a "lively, exciting" atmosphere. The quieter approach was reserved for some of the more expensive or "romantic" places. Many Bay Area restaurant startups at that time were chasing after what they saw as a young crowd with money that often dined in a large and noisy group, so they often created large barnlike designs with open kitchens that ended up sounding like a cross between a metal shop and a basketball court.
It was Farallon, an exquisite seafood restaurant, that brought the noise question to a head, so to speak. Great place, incredible food (and prices) but it was built in the upper part of a room that once housed an Elk's Club swimming pool. They retained the beautiful ceramic tile on a ceiling made up of multiple domes -- and is impossible to have a conversation under that tile without a bullhorn. When crowded, it can sound like everyone brought one along. It is now rated at four bells (75-80 db), and most people think that generous.
Readers demanded The Chron institute the noise ratings, and they remain a very popular feature. It's been a couple of years since I worked in the Bay Area, but my impression is that many of the new places are quieter. And the current Überrestaurant, the French Laundry, comes in at two bells (65-70 db). If Zagat hasn't figured out a way to do this, they should.
Last I heard, and I may have heard wrong, Comic-Con had an all volunteer staff but some of the key volunteers got paid - it being perhaps too well contracted or complex or unrewarding to leave responsibility entirely for people with no obligation beyond honor.
Cf Comic-Con and Dragon Con "nobody goes there anymore it's too crowded"
Lois: The sensible shoe thing - I made a mistake of wearing my broken-down, comfortable-only-around-the-house, flat-in-the-arch pseudo-Birkenstocks. Oh. God. The pain. Eclipsed only by the three minutes of pain I experienced as I wore the heels I made to go with my costume--small, strappy gold heels, glued with leaves. I got to the corner near the hostel where we stayed in SD, and broke down and headed straight back to the hostel. (I still dragged the heels along in case I wanted to wear them, but the memory of those three minutes was permanently etched into my brain, or rather, my feet.)
Sneakers. Beautiful. Even if you must be an elf in sneakers.
Kate: On the wearing of tags -- I was trying to find Ben Edlund at his booth at Comic-con last year, but since he was wearing his tag right in front of his crotch, I was kinda shy about staring to make sure that I had the right person. Eventually I just asked.
Marilee: It was originally said by Kathleen Sloan, a Denver area filk fan. I try always to give her credit when I say it, but people are always crediting me with it.
Kate: Hey! I was at that Eurocon! Did we meet then? I mostly hung out in the bar with Jo or Morgan.
MKK
I propose, in the long tradition given a shape and a name by Dean Swift, the Matthesen-Langford Dining Cacotonal Ambience Scale (MaLaDiCtA) . . . hmm, okay, two obscure words, so it should make it into the journals without a peer review.
I am not yet decided as to the unit of measurement, though my first approximation would be the dA, standing simultaneously for Douglas Adams and his creation Disaster Area, the model for meadhall entertainers throughout the known realities.
Please, let Programming be closed to new panels.
Clark--that sounds exactly right. Fay Gates(?), I think, was the first person to get hired as General Manager, simply due to the fact that there's enough work to keep someone occupied full time all year. I also know that John Rogers, Shel Dorf's successor as con president, still has a day job.
Ah yes, the "how weird a place can I put my badge" crowd.
If you are playing with the assassins, it's a really, *really* bad idea to get the badge-checking stewards peeved by hiding your badge so that the other assassins can't find you, and then constantly walking in and out of badge check areas. Because after the half-dozenth time in ten minutes that the stewards on the dealer's room have been forced to ask you to show them your badge, they will start asking other people if they are assassins, and if they say yes, point you out.
Guests of honour who refuse to wear their badges are another matter. Look, I never watched the show he was in, I'd seen him in photos but not without makeup and in profile, and the other guest of honour was sitting next to me trying to distract me even though he knew I was on door guarding duty. It's not *my* fault I tried to stop the guy coming in, and I was polite about it. (I wasn't polite to my friend the other GOH, who was killing himself laughing at my embarrassment when I realised.)
Anna -- which three Worldcons have you been to? Unless all three were Aussiecons or happened more than 30 years ago you've already been to one or more big ones (and not the big ones George R. R. Martin was talking about...). I'm on both the operating and steering committees, so you can derate my comments as you think necessary, but IMO this will be a relatively easy Worldcon to deal with; the space is very compact (which means it's reasonable for the exhibits to stay open very late -- if you're partied out you can go look at stuff, and even sit in comfort) and there is lots of decent inexpensive food a few steps away. I think some of the emphasis in the original essay is for people who've \never/ been to a convention (for whom a Worldcon can be overwhelming), and some is the reduced energy levels of those of us who have aged in fandom -- I would not advise anybody to repeat my 1976 feat (two >12-hour driving days (camping overnight), four days of sleeping from 5am to 10am, and a similar drive back), but some people will probably try to come close, especially if they're used to pulling long hours at regionals that have half the running time of a Worldcon.
Hotel temperatures: I haven't been in the buildings in the summer since N3 (1989), but there is an all-hands committee meeting there this weekend; I'll post if I find anything coherent. Layering is excellent advice, because hotels don't have the most sensitive controls.
Mary Kay: Jo and my trip journal say we did, but I can't say that I recall this independently!
Comic-Con's management structure is also complicated due to their buying two San Francisco conventions, WonderCon (general purpose, probably in the high 4 figure range attendancewise) and APE (Alternative Press Expo, probably in the 2-3K range), so they've got additional stuff to keep folk busy. I know the Programming head is also paid, for example.
The other factor which skews Comic-Con out of a purely volunteer bit is the significant number of paid rent-a-cop security types they use for things I think most sf cons use volunteers for, such as badge checking. It's certainly still significantly volunteer-run and definitely non-profit, but it also can't be held up as being that close to completely volunteer run.
*sniff*
I wish I were going to WorldCon - unfortunately, I already had plans for DragonCon, and my budget only (barely) allows for the one con during this quarter.
But discussions of questionable sartorial choices, inappropriate chest staring and (tangentially) Ben Edlund bring me back to last year's ComiCon.
As far as getting hit on, I am certain it happens more frequently at cons than IRL, but I'm not really good at catching when someone's making a pass. And I am single, so all passes are appreciated
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