The Convention puzzle
Yeah, so, tunnel vision? Not a great way to take care of yourself, as it turns out. Brendan has a pretty short checklist of things he needs to feel good instead of bad, he really ought to get a clue one of these days that he can't just blow off two thirds of it for weeks at a time and not take a hit. I'll do better. I'll do pushups. I'll eat vegetables. I'll see people play music and dance around.
On the plus side, though, novel's really seriously for real almost done. I'm about halfway through my big climactic scene, I have a couple of little things after that to wrap up the story, I revise the last 10-15K, and cucaracha. I can't wait to show to hear what people think. I'm actually looking forward to the great agent/publisher quest, just because I want to brag about what I did and how cool it is.
In the meantime, I got a little pissy on the internet the other night and feel like I should explain myself. First, upcoming events:
*Tomorrow night, Pungent Parlor! Way up on the north side. I won't be reading but I'll be an enthusiastic audience member: https://www.facebook.com/events/735999383120180/
*Friday night: BAD GRAMMAR THEATER! At our lovely home at Powells Books, 1218 S. Halsted in beautiful Chicago. Starts at 6:00, goes until 9, come and go as you're able and as you please. We'll have some fresh blood on stage this week, and I'm not going to tell you if that is or is not a metaphor. You'll just have to show up.
*And the following night, in lovely North Riverside, the last Tamale Hut Cafe reading of the year. I'll be open micing it and showing off some from that thing I wrote that I'm so pleased with.
Now that that's out of the way, lets talk about about conventions.
http://www.avclub.com/article/its-all-about-kitty-hello-kitty-con-2014-211604
Not what I meant, but I share with you because I love you.
Moving on: I don't want to give people the wrong idea, I didn't have some kind of Michael-Richards style breakdown on Facebook this Friday. But I did break my pattern. Complaining about personal stuff on Facebook is a useless activity, and complaining about personal stuff without even specifying what it is that's bothering you is even worse, and it was silly of me to indulge.
Let me fix that now. Short version: I found my Windycon experience on Friday less than satisfying. (I did come back on Saturday and felt a little better.) Slightly longer version: It was my first time as a panelist/presentor at a convention. I did it at a small, local con and didn't promote it too much because I wanted to get my feet wet. I had mixed feelings about the panel, nobody showed up to my reading, and I went home that night not too pleased with what I'd gotten for the time, effort, and money I'd expended. This was made a little worse by me being in a cave writing for a couple of weeks prior to the event. I'd been looking forward to it as a chance to get out and have myself an adventure, and it wasn't that.
Much longer version: Alan Moore's "The Unearthing" (which is fantastic) has a long passage where he describes science-fiction fantasy fandom in London in the seventies. It's a warts and all version- he describes the fanzine scene as an insular circle-jerk, and that sounds mighty plausible to me- but still an affectionate one, and I couldn't help but get stars in my eyes at the idea of drinking coffee at one o'clock in the morning with those weirdoes.
The active agent in the chemistry experiment, I think, was that Alan Moore seemed to think of fandom as a launchpad to other things. It started with arguing about which Zelazny was the best Zelazny, but it led to other things (magic and mind-blowing performance art in his case). If it was a womb, it was the kind of womb you eventually left once it had nurtured you and given you a chance to develop. It was an adventure, and it led to other adventures.
I keep coming around to that word. What's an adventure, anyway? An adventure involves risk. An adventure is uncomfortable some of the time. An adventure is challenging. Wiscon (the feminist sci-fi convention I attended this past summer) was an adventure. Reading my work in front of an audience for the first time was an adventure. I like to think that my little reading series is an adventure, and that's my goal when I'm recruiting for it and promoting it. But, for me, on this particular occasion, Windycon didn't feel the same way.
It actually bugged me more than it would have usually because so many of the ingredients were things that, in the abstract, I think are really cool. Artwork! Books! People talking about books! Weird movies! People dressed up like Klingons! In another context, I'm all about it. But in practice, it was somehow really alienating to see things that have the potential to be exciting chew on their own tail when they could be going hunting.
So that's why I was feeling down. The operative question, of course, is what I'm going to do about it. These things aren't going away, they're important in the field that I'm pursuing, and I need to figure out what my relationship to them will be. Some possibilities:
*Just don't go. No money spent, no time wasted. I'm starting to wonder if this is the position some friends and peers of mine have already taken and just been too polite to spell out for me.
*Go to the places where local events are happening. Drop off stacks of Bad Grammar fliers anywhere I can sneak into, and then leave. A little time and no money spent, with a modest payoff if I do it consistently over time. I was keeping track, those fliers were disappearing, and this has translated into BGT audience a couple of times.
*Double down, in spite of having one bad experience. Invest travel money and give up work time, go to the big conventions I'd need to take plane or train to, teach myself how to network and force myself into whatever shape I need to take to win the game. I don't know about this. Despite my mixed feelings about the panel as a whole, I thought I connected with some folks. The door isn't closed. It isn't cheap either.
*Try to do the local cons, get on panels and so forth as much as I can, but limit my attendance to one day rather than blowing a whole weekend on it. Don't go to the bigger shindigs until I know for sure that I'll have something waiting for me- some kind of promotional push from being part of an anthology, an audience that's expressed a desire for me to be there, friends and relatives in the area who I'd want to see anyway, something. This is either a sensible, moderate strategy, or a half-measure that isn't as optimal as either commiting or folding.
*Find a different scene to focus on. Maybe horror-focused conventions are more my thing. Maybe there's something else out there waiting for me that I haven't even heard of.
*Organize my own con-sized event, if I think I'm so damn smart.
*Ask my dear friends for advice and feedback.
Let's start with that last one. What do you all think? I can't be the only one grappling with this and I'd love to hear what people think.
On the plus side, though, novel's really seriously for real almost done. I'm about halfway through my big climactic scene, I have a couple of little things after that to wrap up the story, I revise the last 10-15K, and cucaracha. I can't wait to show to hear what people think. I'm actually looking forward to the great agent/publisher quest, just because I want to brag about what I did and how cool it is.
In the meantime, I got a little pissy on the internet the other night and feel like I should explain myself. First, upcoming events:
*Tomorrow night, Pungent Parlor! Way up on the north side. I won't be reading but I'll be an enthusiastic audience member: https://www.facebook.com/events/735999383120180/
*Friday night: BAD GRAMMAR THEATER! At our lovely home at Powells Books, 1218 S. Halsted in beautiful Chicago. Starts at 6:00, goes until 9, come and go as you're able and as you please. We'll have some fresh blood on stage this week, and I'm not going to tell you if that is or is not a metaphor. You'll just have to show up.
*And the following night, in lovely North Riverside, the last Tamale Hut Cafe reading of the year. I'll be open micing it and showing off some from that thing I wrote that I'm so pleased with.
Now that that's out of the way, lets talk about about conventions.
http://www.avclub.com/article/its-all-about-kitty-hello-kitty-con-2014-211604
Not what I meant, but I share with you because I love you.
Moving on: I don't want to give people the wrong idea, I didn't have some kind of Michael-Richards style breakdown on Facebook this Friday. But I did break my pattern. Complaining about personal stuff on Facebook is a useless activity, and complaining about personal stuff without even specifying what it is that's bothering you is even worse, and it was silly of me to indulge.
Let me fix that now. Short version: I found my Windycon experience on Friday less than satisfying. (I did come back on Saturday and felt a little better.) Slightly longer version: It was my first time as a panelist/presentor at a convention. I did it at a small, local con and didn't promote it too much because I wanted to get my feet wet. I had mixed feelings about the panel, nobody showed up to my reading, and I went home that night not too pleased with what I'd gotten for the time, effort, and money I'd expended. This was made a little worse by me being in a cave writing for a couple of weeks prior to the event. I'd been looking forward to it as a chance to get out and have myself an adventure, and it wasn't that.
Much longer version: Alan Moore's "The Unearthing" (which is fantastic) has a long passage where he describes science-fiction fantasy fandom in London in the seventies. It's a warts and all version- he describes the fanzine scene as an insular circle-jerk, and that sounds mighty plausible to me- but still an affectionate one, and I couldn't help but get stars in my eyes at the idea of drinking coffee at one o'clock in the morning with those weirdoes.
The active agent in the chemistry experiment, I think, was that Alan Moore seemed to think of fandom as a launchpad to other things. It started with arguing about which Zelazny was the best Zelazny, but it led to other things (magic and mind-blowing performance art in his case). If it was a womb, it was the kind of womb you eventually left once it had nurtured you and given you a chance to develop. It was an adventure, and it led to other adventures.
I keep coming around to that word. What's an adventure, anyway? An adventure involves risk. An adventure is uncomfortable some of the time. An adventure is challenging. Wiscon (the feminist sci-fi convention I attended this past summer) was an adventure. Reading my work in front of an audience for the first time was an adventure. I like to think that my little reading series is an adventure, and that's my goal when I'm recruiting for it and promoting it. But, for me, on this particular occasion, Windycon didn't feel the same way.
It actually bugged me more than it would have usually because so many of the ingredients were things that, in the abstract, I think are really cool. Artwork! Books! People talking about books! Weird movies! People dressed up like Klingons! In another context, I'm all about it. But in practice, it was somehow really alienating to see things that have the potential to be exciting chew on their own tail when they could be going hunting.
So that's why I was feeling down. The operative question, of course, is what I'm going to do about it. These things aren't going away, they're important in the field that I'm pursuing, and I need to figure out what my relationship to them will be. Some possibilities:
*Just don't go. No money spent, no time wasted. I'm starting to wonder if this is the position some friends and peers of mine have already taken and just been too polite to spell out for me.
*Go to the places where local events are happening. Drop off stacks of Bad Grammar fliers anywhere I can sneak into, and then leave. A little time and no money spent, with a modest payoff if I do it consistently over time. I was keeping track, those fliers were disappearing, and this has translated into BGT audience a couple of times.
*Double down, in spite of having one bad experience. Invest travel money and give up work time, go to the big conventions I'd need to take plane or train to, teach myself how to network and force myself into whatever shape I need to take to win the game. I don't know about this. Despite my mixed feelings about the panel as a whole, I thought I connected with some folks. The door isn't closed. It isn't cheap either.
*Try to do the local cons, get on panels and so forth as much as I can, but limit my attendance to one day rather than blowing a whole weekend on it. Don't go to the bigger shindigs until I know for sure that I'll have something waiting for me- some kind of promotional push from being part of an anthology, an audience that's expressed a desire for me to be there, friends and relatives in the area who I'd want to see anyway, something. This is either a sensible, moderate strategy, or a half-measure that isn't as optimal as either commiting or folding.
*Find a different scene to focus on. Maybe horror-focused conventions are more my thing. Maybe there's something else out there waiting for me that I haven't even heard of.
*Organize my own con-sized event, if I think I'm so damn smart.
*Ask my dear friends for advice and feedback.
Let's start with that last one. What do you all think? I can't be the only one grappling with this and I'd love to hear what people think.