Please don't be That Guy.
I thought fairly hard about whether or not to make this post, as I generally try not to say negative things that can't be veiled behind a lovely shimmering curtain of "no details here." In the end, I decided that the details I had were vague enough to be borderline-generic, with a few careful omissions. And this is an important "please don't be this guy."
On Sunday at Arisia, I was on a panel called "Fanfic As Writer's Workshop," for discussion of how the skills and techniques learned from writing fanfiction can be applied to writing original fiction. (Yes, Virginia, you can learn how to write by writing fanfic. But that is another post for another day.) I was, at the time, incredibly sick, due to exposure to mango (which I am highly allergic to), but I was determined to soldier through. It's probably a good thing that I was as sick as I was, since it prevented my becoming annoyed enough to shout. See? Vomiting has value!
The panel consisted entirely of women (myself, three other writers, and Diana). The room, while small, was quite well-filled, with a nice mix of people who wanted to discuss learning about writing through, well, actually writing. And, in the front row, was That Guy. He was fairly large; fairly unkempt; had not brushed his hair; appeared to be wearing basic black for its stain-concealing properties, rather than out of any goth sympathies; and was, when first sighted, vigorously picking at his teeth.
Please don't be That Guy, part one: If you're sitting in the front row of a panel, in full view of the panelists, please don't pick your teeth. If you must pick your teeth, please use a toothpick, or something, rather than using your fingers. We'd really rather not watch.
The panel began with enthusiasm, as each panelist explained their views on our topic, and we began taking questions from the attendees. That Guy stopped picking his teeth, which was a mercy, and began, instead, picking his ear. With the same finger.
Please don't be That Guy, part two: Sometimes we have itches. I get that. I, too, am an itchy person. But if you're sitting in the front row of a panel, and have already been seen to be picking your teeth, please do not stick the same finger in your ear. It makes the panelists very uncomfortable.
More questions from the audience. This is the point at which That Guy began truly interacting. "How do I get more readers for my fanfic?" he asked. "I wrote an alternate universe [SHOW] [SEASON], where instead of [MAN] killing [WOMAN], he rapes her."
Cue horrified silence. The fanfic community is largely female, for better or for worse, and that sort of statement is rarely going to go over well in mixed company. Diana, who was by that point far more diplomatic than I, tried pointing this out, along with the note that maybe, if he wanted people to trust him writing about rape, he needed to get them to trust him writing about other things, first. He countered with the fact that he had received good feedback from women. We moved on as quickly as possible.
Later in the panel, the topic of porn came up. Porn is, after all, the stereotypical reason people write fanfic, and that's not entirely a bad thing. So all of these women are now saying the word "porn," with varying degrees of enthusiasm.
Please don't be That Guy, part three: If you think there is ANY CHANCE that you might become visibly aroused by live women saying the word "porn," please DO NOT sit in the front row at a panel on fanfiction. They're going to say it, and what's going to happen is going to happen, and then I'm going to have to fight the urge to eject you from the room.
That Guy attempted to drag the panel back to a recounting of the plot of his fanfic several times, to the point where I actually asked him "How is this relevant?" (If you've ever been on a panel with me, or attended a panel with me, you'll know that I'm not opposed to topic drift, so long as it remains interesting and vaguely tangential. If I'm the one shutting you down, it's because you're so far off topic that you're no longer even in the topic's time zone.)
So please. This is a plea for everyone, male and female, who attends conventions and goes to panels: Please don't be That Guy. Don't sit to take up three chairs, sticking fingers in your facial orifices, and try to engage women in discussions on how rape in literature is awesome and not inappropriate in the least. Don't look offended when the panelists don't want to hand the panel to you, so that you can tell us about your magnum opus and why we all need to read it. And please, please, don't be creepy. For the rest of the weekend, if I saw That Guy, I moved to another elevator.
Let's play nicely with the other fans, and only creep them out with their permission, okay? I've done my best to be general here, but this one specific incident really drove home why this is something that needs to be said. No one was touched, cornered, or specifically harassed, but I had three people who attended that panel tell me how uncomfortable That Guy made them. Beyond that, I know how uncomfortable he made me.
I'm just saying.
ETA: Because this has come up twice, and is hence distracting: "please don't take up three chairs" does NOT mean "please don't be fat at a panel." You may be as fat as you do or do not wish to be, and as long as you're happy and healthy, I'm happy for you. But as I say on a regular basis, your backpack does not deserve a chair of its own. Neither does your leg, unless you are injured and require elevation. Neither does your arm. And if you're taking a chair each for your leg, torso, and arm, you have perhaps crossed a line.
On Sunday at Arisia, I was on a panel called "Fanfic As Writer's Workshop," for discussion of how the skills and techniques learned from writing fanfiction can be applied to writing original fiction. (Yes, Virginia, you can learn how to write by writing fanfic. But that is another post for another day.) I was, at the time, incredibly sick, due to exposure to mango (which I am highly allergic to), but I was determined to soldier through. It's probably a good thing that I was as sick as I was, since it prevented my becoming annoyed enough to shout. See? Vomiting has value!
The panel consisted entirely of women (myself, three other writers, and Diana). The room, while small, was quite well-filled, with a nice mix of people who wanted to discuss learning about writing through, well, actually writing. And, in the front row, was That Guy. He was fairly large; fairly unkempt; had not brushed his hair; appeared to be wearing basic black for its stain-concealing properties, rather than out of any goth sympathies; and was, when first sighted, vigorously picking at his teeth.
Please don't be That Guy, part one: If you're sitting in the front row of a panel, in full view of the panelists, please don't pick your teeth. If you must pick your teeth, please use a toothpick, or something, rather than using your fingers. We'd really rather not watch.
The panel began with enthusiasm, as each panelist explained their views on our topic, and we began taking questions from the attendees. That Guy stopped picking his teeth, which was a mercy, and began, instead, picking his ear. With the same finger.
Please don't be That Guy, part two: Sometimes we have itches. I get that. I, too, am an itchy person. But if you're sitting in the front row of a panel, and have already been seen to be picking your teeth, please do not stick the same finger in your ear. It makes the panelists very uncomfortable.
More questions from the audience. This is the point at which That Guy began truly interacting. "How do I get more readers for my fanfic?" he asked. "I wrote an alternate universe [SHOW] [SEASON], where instead of [MAN] killing [WOMAN], he rapes her."
Cue horrified silence. The fanfic community is largely female, for better or for worse, and that sort of statement is rarely going to go over well in mixed company. Diana, who was by that point far more diplomatic than I, tried pointing this out, along with the note that maybe, if he wanted people to trust him writing about rape, he needed to get them to trust him writing about other things, first. He countered with the fact that he had received good feedback from women. We moved on as quickly as possible.
Later in the panel, the topic of porn came up. Porn is, after all, the stereotypical reason people write fanfic, and that's not entirely a bad thing. So all of these women are now saying the word "porn," with varying degrees of enthusiasm.
Please don't be That Guy, part three: If you think there is ANY CHANCE that you might become visibly aroused by live women saying the word "porn," please DO NOT sit in the front row at a panel on fanfiction. They're going to say it, and what's going to happen is going to happen, and then I'm going to have to fight the urge to eject you from the room.
That Guy attempted to drag the panel back to a recounting of the plot of his fanfic several times, to the point where I actually asked him "How is this relevant?" (If you've ever been on a panel with me, or attended a panel with me, you'll know that I'm not opposed to topic drift, so long as it remains interesting and vaguely tangential. If I'm the one shutting you down, it's because you're so far off topic that you're no longer even in the topic's time zone.)
So please. This is a plea for everyone, male and female, who attends conventions and goes to panels: Please don't be That Guy. Don't sit to take up three chairs, sticking fingers in your facial orifices, and try to engage women in discussions on how rape in literature is awesome and not inappropriate in the least. Don't look offended when the panelists don't want to hand the panel to you, so that you can tell us about your magnum opus and why we all need to read it. And please, please, don't be creepy. For the rest of the weekend, if I saw That Guy, I moved to another elevator.
Let's play nicely with the other fans, and only creep them out with their permission, okay? I've done my best to be general here, but this one specific incident really drove home why this is something that needs to be said. No one was touched, cornered, or specifically harassed, but I had three people who attended that panel tell me how uncomfortable That Guy made them. Beyond that, I know how uncomfortable he made me.
I'm just saying.
ETA: Because this has come up twice, and is hence distracting: "please don't take up three chairs" does NOT mean "please don't be fat at a panel." You may be as fat as you do or do not wish to be, and as long as you're happy and healthy, I'm happy for you. But as I say on a regular basis, your backpack does not deserve a chair of its own. Neither does your leg, unless you are injured and require elevation. Neither does your arm. And if you're taking a chair each for your leg, torso, and arm, you have perhaps crossed a line.