Convention
• noun 1 a large meeting or conference. 2 a way in which something is usually done. 3 socially acceptable behavior.
— OXFORD ENGLISH DICTIONARY.
SciFi Convention
• noun 1 a meeting of predominantly large people. 2 something that is usually done a lot here: eating. 3 the place where socially acceptable behavior goes to die.
— VIKIPEDIA.
All joking apart, the people there WERE really, really, I mean reeeally large. That is, those that weren't comically thin.
But let's start at the beginning. I've never been to a Con before. Which probably is more a function of my living quite a ways away from anywhere such exquisite events take place than of any conscious decision of mine. So when I first read about ConDFW, which was to be a very convenient 8 miles from our hotel, I wasn't sure what to expect.
The problem with being a ConVirgin (yes, they do call it that) as opposed to a virgin (no modifiers) is that you usually don't have all that much, err... secondary informational material that prepares you for the experience. Or at least I have yet to see "Barely legal - ConVirgins panelling for the first time!".
Add to that the Guests of Honor, David Weber and Jim Butcher, both of whom I've read (one book each) and felt rather meh about plus a price tag of $35 and you got yourself one very double-minded Viktor. Is it really worth it to shell out 35 bucks just to see two authors I don't feel very strongly about and do... well, whatever else it is that people do at those things?
Fortunately a higher power intervened to make my decision for me: The mighty Bruuuuuuust! Steven Karl Zoltán Brust, to be exact, announced he would grace ConDFW with his presence. Thus it was decided: I needed to pop my ConCherry™! No, they don't call it that, but I think it's witty.
Day 1 - Friday, 20th Feb 2009
ConDFW XIII is hosted by the Crowne Plaza Hotel and occupies the whole lobby and several adjacent large meeting rooms, as well as most rooms on the 2nd and 3rd floor.
Parts of the lobby with guests trickling in, Friday afternoon.
Brust doesn't show up to his scheduled signing at 3 p.m. Nobody knows where he is.
I decide not to let that keep me from having fun and attend my first panel: Selling Yourself for Fun and Profit. I’ll leave it to you to guess what that was about.
The day flies by after that: People are having actual discussions about politics and technology and all kinds of stuff! Who knew such a thing was possible.
I have an extended dinner where I get to argue the relative merits of various TV shows with some fellow Con goers - and I thought I watched lots of shows...
Evening entertainment includes Talking during the Movies: Furankenshutain tai chitei kaijû Baragon. Better known (and that only in the most relative of senses) as Frankenstein Conquers the World.
Even though this trash classic doesn't really need any commentary to generate hilarity, the shouting-out-snarky-remarks part of the evening goes really well. I haven't laughed so hard at a movie for quite some time.
Day 2 - Saturday, 21st Feb 2009
Brust is supposed to be on a panel at 10 a.m., so I force myself and Nico out of bed in order to make it to the Crowne Plaza before that time. Despite having enjoyed myself on Friday, I'm still anxious. Brust not showing up at all would definitely be a huge downer.
Nico drops me off at 9.57 a.m. I rush straight towards the panel room, almost running over a guy dressed all in leather with a funny hat.
"Hey Steve! I was waiting for you yesterday!", bubbles forth from my mouth before I've even managed to turn around to follow Steve motherf*ing Bruuuust outside again. D'oh! WTF? How is that the first thing I say to the guy?!
Lighting his smoke he says, "Really? I just got here."
We talk some while he enjoys his cigarette. It turns out Steve didn't even know he was scheduled for a signing on Friday and he immediately offers to sign my book after the panel.
Here’s Steve on the 10 a.m. panel, the topic being In the Beginning: How to Start a Story. Notice the Titus Pullo T-Shirt. Introductions are made. Steven Brust:
My name is Steve Brust and I've written over 25 novels. But do they call me Steve , the writer?
I have drummed on several albums and done over 300 live gigs. But do they call me Steve, the drummer?
I've played over 3000 hours of professional level poker. But do they call me Steve, the poker player?
Fuck a pig just ONCE!
If you haven't picked up on the importance of the Titus Pullo shirt at this point, you probably won't.
One piece of advice Steve gave on writing was: "When in doubt say something cool - and get the pig fucking going as soon as possible." Did I mention I love this guy?
On a more serious note Brust explained his theory of literature:
“The novel should be understood as a structure built to accommodate the greatest possible amount of cool stuff.”
Yes, that is him being serious. It appears that Steve and I have similar taste in cool stuff, which I conclude from my level of enjoyment of his novels.
Which in turn makes me wonder whether I have read too much irony into Steve’s pig fucking statements…
Here he is (or half of his head in any case) sitting next to me at the Erotica in SciFi panel. Despite not being a panelist here, Steve takes it upon himself to answer some audience questions. Given above quotes, it shouldn't be too hard to imagine the general tone of his answers.
Once more, Steve and I. That thing around my neck, you ask? No, that's not my latest fashion accessory. That's the beautiful name tag the attendees were forced to wear.
What's up with the blurriness of the picture, you ask? Now that IS related to trends in fashion. How so? Please have a look at the lady in the next picture. You might want to pay special attention to her fingernails. Whilst indubitably underscoring the outfit and perfectly functional, nay, advantageous for most purposes, picture taking just isn't what those nails are cut out for.
Was everybody dressed up like my fiery-headed friend, you ask? Alas, no. She was one of the participants in the CosPlay contest that evening.
So was this guy (Dr. Horrible).
Those ladies, too? No, not them. Confusing, I know. Those are actually the Four Red Heads of the Apocalypse. But there's only three of them? Look closer, number four is just above the wide blue expanse on the left hand side. Between shamelessly plugging their books and a full recounting of all of their adventures on the road, the red heads keep approximately seventeen discussions at a time going with various members of the audience.
Saturday ends with a Mardi Gras party. I am too late to get a bead necklace, but at least there are still some snacks left.
Day 3 - Sunday, 22nd Feb 2009
On Sunday I attend Steve's reading of a short story of his, which is awe!s0me. I also enjoy David Weber’s reading from a story that isn’t published yet. It’s about the Apocalypse. Sort of.
The art auction also goes well. At least for the sellers. The stuff I’d have wanted to take home as a souvenir sells for prizes that are definitely out of my range – even considering that all the proceeds go to charity.
The picture shows the auctioneer (long haired guy) and one of ten David Weber manuscripts for a book that’s scheduled for 2010 (the white thing blue shirt lady is holding up). Winning bid: $550!
The other nine sell for only slightly less.
Souvenirs will have to wait until I’m making some real money, it seems. At least I have my memories. Excuse me, I have to spit out what I just threw up in my mouth.
I did enjoy getting to know one of my favorite authors, though. And many of the panels were loads of fun. Oh, and I haven’t even written about the improv-theater-audience-participation-murder-mystery event.
As for something tangible to take with me – a signed copy of Steve Brust’s latest novel dedicated to me ain’t bad, I’d say.
Oh, wednesdays whiskey $3.00. Mmmmhhh, alcohol…
