conventions

I have so many thoughts in the wake of Westercon, but they are all fragmentary. When I try to pull one into coherence, it slips away from me like a colorful fish in murky water. I can tell they are lovely, but I barely get a glimpse before they are gone. A part of me is afraid that they will get away, vanish in the gloom never to be seen again. Tomorrow, when I have slept all the sleeps, I will try to coax them out where I can see them.

For now I write the fragments that may help me coax full thoughts tomorrow.

We had a wonderful time.

Keliana sold 3/5 of her art show pieces and many of her prints. She earned a significant portion of the money she needs for her tuition payment in August. She also won “Best Use of Color” for one of her pieces. She got invited out to dinner by professional people who wanted to talk to her, not her parents.

All of my panels were excellent. I learned things and I felt like we gave good value to the audience.

I had many wonderful conversations.

I need to write a post on the power of witness.

Mary and I visited an antique store, one where you have to ring the bell to be let inside. Unfortunately the owner had firm opinions about the use of photos so I couldn’t take any to share. But I was struck by how needlessly beautiful these objects were. We make things to serve a need. These things fed the need for beauty. I put my hand to the surface of a two hundred year old table and realized it had a story, probably many stories, and I will never know them. Not even if I bought it and took it home. That building was packed with untold stories. I wonder if I sat quiet for a long time if they’d whisper their stories to me. Certainly my brain tried to create them. I could not afford a single thing in the store.

I’m excited for LTUE next February. I think it is in some very good hands.

Commuting forty five minutes to and from the convention each day significantly increased the fatigue and reduced pretty much all of my evening social opportunities.

My kids who stayed at home are amazing and were absolutely fine while I was gone.

I have ideas to increase the fun and reduce the burden of SLCC in September.

I have ideas for Gen Con.

I had a dozen things that ought to go on the to do list, but can’t remember what they are. I hope they come back when I’ve cleared the murk.

The Shadows Beneath anthology is beautiful.

Sometimes you see behind the scenes to how an event is put together and it is like watching a train wreck, you can see the crash coming and cringe in anticipation. At Westercon I saw an event which was repeatedly saved from disaster by people who stepped in at the last minute to solve problems created by communication issues and other errors. The con com was full of heroes. Then there are other times where I see behind the scenes and the more I watch the more I respect everyone involved. Watching the Writing Excuses crew is like that.

Traffic and sales were really slow in the dealer’s room, but we still did better than I thought we would.

I never did make it across the street to Fantasycon. I’ve heard there were many things worth seeing. I was happier staying in the smaller space.

I have a deck I need to start dismantling this week and Apricots which are going to fall off the tree unless I can entice someone to come collect them and take them away.

I really want one of Jessica Douglas’ little dreaming trees with either fish or butterflies, but I can’t decide what colors or theme I want. It needs to mean something to me. A dreaming tree has to have symbolism in the colors and objects. I’ll wait patiently until my brain tells me what the symbols are.

A set of blog posts, getting onto panels, being a good panelist, being a good moderator, being a good convention guest, things conventions can do to make life easier for their guests.

And those are the glimpses I have right now. Time to sleep

The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. The good things don’t always soften the bad things, but vice versa the bad things don’t always spoil the good things and make them unimportant. – Eleventh Doctor

Howard and I are both exhausted from FanX. Our bodies and brains have no reserves left and we’re ready to hibernate until we’ve replenished. We keep having small conversations about the show and all the smaller events that were part of it. Sometimes we’re exploring the shape of a thing that was hard. Other times we are recalling a moment that was rewarding. Bit by bit we’re sorting our experiences into the pile of good things and the pile of hard things. Over all, I think the “good thing” pile is bigger, but we still need to figure out how to manage a massive event like this without it costing us so much. That “good thing” pile is not winning by enough. The “bad thing” pile needs to be smaller. We’re beginning to have ideas about how to make that happen, so I guess there is a third pile, the “ideas for Comic Con in September” pile. Some of the bad things we have no control over, like the show floor hours. (11 hours is an insanely long time for the dealer’s hall to be open.) All the piles are accumulating, we’ll still be sorting for awhile.

The other thing my brain is trying to do today, is remember where I left off with all the other things in my life. Everything was put on hold for a week and now I’ve got to find all the loose ends and get moving again. My brain sorts that, while my body just wants to lay still and sleep.

Twelve hours in the small 10×10 space that we set up and stocked with Schlock things. Lots of lovely conversations. Handing out flyers to people who have never heard of us before. Selling starter books to people who have never heard of Schlock. Greeting returning fans and helping them find shiny merchandise they love. Long stretches of time where people walk past and don’t even look at us. Watching the sales numbers slowly inch past the point where the endeavor is profitable in a strict sense, but knowing later we’ll have to evaluate whether the profit is sufficient to pay for the time and stress. Watching people in costumes pass, many of them impressive, some of them delightful. Exhaustion. Sore feet. Being extra careful on the drive home because of the tired. Another fifteen hour work day tomorrow.

All of that.

But there was one moment today… I was talking to a woman, I can’t even remember which one. But in the midst of talking Schlock or maybe talking about one of my picture books, her eyes flickered over the booth. I turned to see what she was looking at, what had impressed her. I saw three tables covered in books, pins, dice, coins, posters, and other things. She was impressed by the extent of our creations and for a moment I saw what she saw. We’ve made enough stuff to fill a little 10×10 store, and that is an accomplishment in itself.

After writing yesterday’s blog post, the part of my brain which remembers how to do conventions woke up. I was able to think in advance and organize. This meant today I was prepared to commit commerce and to enjoy interactions with friends, fans, and others. All of this was greatly helped by the fact that Kiki arrived home from college and came to the convention with me. It is a professional event for her as well and we made a good team. She makes me laugh, which always makes the day better.

I had some conversations today that I will treasure. I can’t share them because they aren’t my stories to tell. They really aren’t about me at all. They are about the person who came to my table with a question or an observation. Then some bit of knowledge that I shared or some stray eddy of thought changed them. Because of that conversation, they walked away with a new plan or insight. I love getting to witness those moments. LTUE always provides far more of those moments than any other convention I attend. People’s lives and careers are changed. Things are made possible.

The other thing from today that I will treasure was my reading. People came, which always feels like a miracle, particularly at an event like LTUE when I know that they have to give up something else to be there. It was just us there in that room, me at the front, and an hour to focus on the words that I have written. A reading is an experience that can feel daunting or terrifying, particularly because writers often wonder if their words are good enough. I am fortunate in that I could begin with a picture book. Picture books are friendly. I pulled up a chair and announced the beginning of story time. So there I was, reading a picture book and pausing to show the pictures to the room full of adults. A small piece of my brain was sure that they were bored, particularly because the first book was one that many of them had already read to their kids. Probably more than once. That was when the second miracle occurred. They laughed. It wasn’t loud or long, just a chuckle, but it was enough to let me know that they were enjoying the story.

I switched to some essays and then finished with the first part of my novel in progress. More than once I looked up to see emotion on the faces of my audience. I wrote words, I read those words aloud, and the audience cared. What a gift to see that in action. I forget sometimes when I’m sitting in my house with my laptop that my words can reach out and cause someone else to feel, to grow, to change. That is an amazing power that writers reach for when they tell their stories. I felt humbled to actually see it working. Hours later, I’m still thinking about it and part of me is like a little child crying out “Let’s do that again!” Another part of me thinks that this reading was a special case, a gift to people in that room who needed it, one of whom was me. I’m so very grateful for the people who came and listened.

There were lots of other things about the day which went well. My brain was in full gear for my presentation: Building a Community Among Your Readers. I should blog my notes for that. It was obvious from the comments afterward that people found it useful, which is the point of having panels and presentations. They exist for the attendees. I’m relieved, because the last time I gave presentations I walked away feeling like I could have done much better. I’m also relieved that I managed to get through two hours of talking and didn’t have a coughing fit in front of an audience.

Tomorrow I’m back to being on panels. My solo day is over, which makes me both glad, because I’m not under quite as much pressure, but also sad, because I really love this sort of teaching. One more day.

There was a moment early in the first panel of the day where I thought “I just don’t have this in me.” I arrived to LTUE tired, not sleepy, but weary. I’m still not up to speed after being sick. We still haven’t returned to normal. I’d arrived at the event to discover how many things I’d forgotten to bring in order to stock our table. They were things I normally would not forget. Then in the panel, I was half way through a sentence when a sound in the room distracted me. I lost my place and could not find it again. I handed off the microphone and hoped I’d have a chance to speak more clearly later. I did. The panel was fine, and hopefully useful to those attending.

I just wish I could come to LTUE with my full capabilities. I love this event. I love the energy and the people. They’ve given me lots of great program items. I’m going to do my very best to give back. But I’m tired. People who know me can tell that I’m tired. Sometimes people who don’t know me can tell too. I don’t want to be tired, but I am.

I came home early, in part because I was the only one available to pick Patch up from school, but also in part because I need to conserve energy. I’ll go back tomorrow and hopefully have more energy. I’ll need it, because tomorrow is my day of solo presentations.