When attending a convention, or just after a convention, there is a tendency for bloggers to put up a long list of names of people they talked to, or events they went to. There is an urgency about these posts, as if the writer needs to get it all down before the information leaks out of her brain. Posts like that are little reminder tags to the person who experienced the convention. The mention of a name triggers the memory of a conversation and an enjoyable dinner. The listing of a nick name reminds the author of the whole series of interconnected events that led to the bestowal of the nick name. The reference to an event refreshes the memory of people seen and met. This is necessary because it is truly impossible to capture everything that happens at a convention without expanding into novel-length exposition. There are so many new people and new thoughts that the experience is overwhelming, and invigorating, and sometimes frightening.
Last night I went up to my room to drop off my bag. I intended to head back out with Howard to roam the room parties. The hotel room door closed behind me and I was alone. For the first time all day, my brain had time to assimilate rather than collecting new input. I realized that my inner introvert was huddled up in the corner of my brain and I needed to spend some time soothing her to prevent a major screaming fit the following day. I have to pace myself to last through the three days of convention. I crawled into bed, wishing it was my own bed, and wishing for my kids. This is part of the convention experience for me.
Another part of the convention experience is sitting on a panel with other intelligent people and comparing experiences about the panel topic. The blogging panel was like that. Most people hate public speaking, but I love it. I love seeing the audience nod at what I say. I’m thrilled to think that my thoughts, my words, are useful to others. This is the same reason I blog, because there is a possibility that my words will be exactly what someone else needs today; the possibility that my thoughts will make someone else’s life better. That reward is worth the risk of putting myself forward or having some troll throw nastiness at me. It is scary blogging. It is scary being on panels. It is scary being here. But if I am not here I lose out on the opportunity to meet and to greet. I miss out on the chance to learn things that make my life better. I miss out on the chance to say something that will help someone else. So I am here, at the convention, blogging online, because the rewards are more that worth the risks.