– Sarah Hoyt

(Oooh.  How well that sounds.  I confess I always wanted to title something “Whither something or other” because it makes one seem so important, grown up and particularly well informed.)

Lately science fiction conventions have become a topic of discussion in my circles.  In fact, I haven’t discussed cons and which cons are worth while so much since I was, myself, a raw beginner.

To begin with let me point out that I didn’t grow up with con-culture.  While I was a fan, I was a fan in Portugal, which meant the only contact I had with other fans were while waiting in line to buy that month’s release from Argonauta which was (except for certain fly by night, appallingly proof-read and probably pirated editions) the only science fiction imprint in Portugal.

Since I had no clue science fiction conventions happened, I managed to live in the South Eastern US for eight years and never even know there were about a dozen every summer within easy driving distance.  (Remember, children, this was before internet.)  I first found out about conventions my very last year in the South (at the time in Columbia, SC) and it was academic for me at that point, because we had a small infant, I was very ill and we were beyond broke.  Oh, yeah, and I found out they existed only because I discovered Locus magazine on a magazine rack in Columbia (and then subscribed.)  I was so disconnected from US fandom I didn’t even know of Locus and/or SF Age.

I think I first saw science fiction cons in some sitcom, which made fun of them, of course, and pictured everyone there as rabid gamers and/or media fans.  Now, I have nothing against Star Trek, (DO NOT ask me about Star Wars) but my love of science fiction existed before Star Trek, and continued after it, and also I have the sort of mind that has trouble remembering world details, (even my own.  If Gentleman Takes A Chance EVER has another edition, there are things to clean up) so I can’t get into those fascinating “in episode 25, the ten seconds that show the Romulan base” conversations.  So I thought that while these were science fiction cons, they had nothing to say to me.

And then I sold my first book, fired my first agent, and needed to find a second.  Kris Rusch suggested I go to World Fantasy on a shopping expedition.  And that’s when I discovered conventions weren’t necessarily all media or all fan.

Oh, sure, fans attend conventions – though there are fewer fans at World Fantasy than the other major cons.  Or rather, there’s a higher ratio of writer to fan than anywhere else except the Nebulas – and most of the stuff is directed at them.  But if you are a pro you attend for completely different reasons.

Because I started so late, the only con I ever attended strictly as a fan was Discworld Con, and it was a blast.  The rest of the time, cons for me are working time.

Oh, sure, they’re fun too, but in a different way.  Working in a field where my colleagues can live all over the world (let alone all over the country), I’ve formed alliances and even close friendships with people I’ll never see in the normal course of life.  However, there are cons at which we all gather by accident or design.

You can usually tell pro writers at cons, because they’re a little better dressed, they rarely attend panels, though they often come in near the end and wait for the panelists to finish speaking then go up and greet them.  That’s another way you can tell pros: someone a little too well dressed and a little too old to be squeeing “I haven’t seen you in ages!” and hugging a friend.

Our first two years of attending cons, Dan happened to be in a very well paying job (now referred to as “when we were rich”) which was a victim of the mini-slump after 9/11 (mini compared to now.)  So we attended all the major cons: Nebs, World Con and World Fantasy.

Of the three, as I said, the Nebs had the highest rate of pros to fans, with world fantasy second and world con third.  However, when it came to cutting our traveling for economic reasons, and we tallied the cons where we “did business” we found that World Fantasy paid for itself every year, while the Nebula Awards didn’t.  (This is possibly because the Nebs had MUCH bigger names than I.)  In Worldcon we did no business whatsoever, though it was a lots and lots of fun.  Also, being a minimum five day con it was too “expensive” in time, particularly for a couple with young kids.  So, we decided to do only world fantasy.

This calculus has changed somewhat.  The last two world fantasies I attended I did no business at all.  Part of this might be the pivot in my career (as what I’m becoming known for is MOSTLY science fiction or fantasy with Baen – and Baen doesn’t really have a presence at WFC) and part of it I think are the changes we’re seeing.  On the other hand, Worldcon is coming online as “a good place to make contact with fans who aren’t local” and money permitting I’m going to try to attend at least every other year.

The last time I attended the Nebulas four? Five? Years ago, it was more sparsely attended than I remember, the attendees were more from the Prestige side of the field, and there were only a couple of editors in attendance.  So unless I or someone in whose work I’m interested is nominated, I will probably not bother.  Or unless I hear reports that they are changed again.

And that brings us to the topic of this – yes, WHITHER cons? – and the fact that we pros (and wanna bes) have been talking behind y’all’s backs again.

The topic, quite specifically is “cons to do business in” and there don’t seem to be any.  I mean, none like World Fantasy where an editor was likely to come up to you and go “Sarah” well, if your name is Sarah, natch.  “We’re starting a new imprint and we really liked your Shakespeare books.  Do you think you can….”   These days editors are just as likely to poke you via LinkedIn or to send you a Face Book email.  Ditto for most of your interaction with colleagues.

So, in terms of cons, which ones are still worth it if you’re an established pro?  The ones where you commune with your fans and can meet most of your far-flung circle.  To me that’s boiling down to World Con, though I understand Dragoncon is bigger and better (and I mean to try it, if ever I’m not QUITE so pinched.)

But what if you’re a wanna-be?  Well, it didn’t hit me that things had changed for you guys (since I was never a wanna be at cons) till a friend said “I used to come as a wanna be and hear the names in the field, and the recently published people, to figure out how to do it.  But now it’s 90% self published people on panels, and who wants to see that?”

He has a point, unless, of course, the panel is on self-publishing.  The other reason for a wanna-be or new pro to come to a con was to meet editors.  With the state the publishing field is in, this hardly seems worth it.  Also, according to my friends in the East, where you got more editors at the local cons, there are fewer and fewer of these personages attending cons and the ones that are there mingle less.  I know this is true for world fantasy and world con.  They have meals with their writers, and they make nice, but they’re not as available as they once were and it’s harder for a newby to just bump into them.

So, I’d say if you’re a wanna be and if – like me – you hate most cons (my exception is Liberty con, which is very relaxed and laid back.  It’s not that I hate the cons, actually.  I just hate being out in public.) don’t go.  Stay home and write and work on getting your work out and getting well known.

Does this mean that I think cons will vanish?  No.  At least not most of them.  Some MIGHT vanish, what I call “prestige cons” attended mostly by pros, but even that is doubtful.  There still needs to be a Nebulas Award ceremony, at least as long as the award exists.  So the con might shrink, but it won’t vanish.  Ditto for World Fantasy where, at any rate, a lot of pros meet just to see their friends.  (And I might go now and then just for that, money permitting.)

But cons will CHANGE.  In these pinched times, I expect – if I’m right about what I’m seeing – that smaller local cons will actually grow, particularly if they have a genuinely popular guest of honor.  This is because they allow fans to see their local authors.  They allow authors to socialize with their local friends.  They allow local self-published authors to promote.  They allow local fans to discover local self-published authors.  Honestly, I think these cons, or most of them, would benefit greatly from having an “Indie track” where they put authors who are mostly or exclusively indie.  Not because they should be segregated in a ghetto, but because they’ll attract their own audience, more interested in what they’re saying than in what the traditionals have to say, and also because we avoid those panels where half the panelists sound like they come from a different world from the other half, with yours truly caught in the middle.

Local cons will grow and flourish if they cultivate the sort of atmosphere Liberty con cultivates, where it’s all relaxed and laid back, everyone knows everyone else, and fans and pros are very permeable groups.  (And yes, I’m still trying to figure out how to go to Liberty con.  If I can get a few more indie properties up, and if the front end of my car doesn’t cost me in the many many thousands, there’s a chance I can make it.)  Liberty con is particularly good at providing a place for the younger ones in sf/f to socialize, and if you think your kids don’t desperately need a place where they’re not considered odd, think again.  However, those local cons who insist on being “Too good for the likes of you” will run into some issues.
The bigger cons might shrink, at least if what I’m hearing about gas/flight prices is true, but it depends on how BIG they are.  They might be big enough they’re worth the price to meet THAT many of your fans and to see THAT many of your friends at once.

The hard-hit ones will be the medium ones, particularly in a region that has small cons also.  Those cons have charged a little more and been a little more upscale, but they also bring in bigger guests, and sometimes editors.  This has been failing for some time, and they’ll lose attendants, as the brought in guests are diluted by a flood of indies and as the prices make people balk.  On the other hand, there are tons of things they can do, like… establish an indie track.  Get one or two of the self-published or even the editors of small presses (or the tech people of small presses) to do workshops on how to put your book on line and the pros and cons of various outlets. Take a page from RWA Nationals and open your doors to the local public for a soiree or books give away (particularly good for small presses and traditionals) – ie. Have local people pay a small ticket price and come in to get books signed by the visiting authors and to get books the houses sent to give away (I don’t suggest one does this on the scale of RWA, but perhaps a raffle.)  In other words – get creative.

Also, try not to have the same authors in the same panels every year.  If I’m put on another Heinlein panel where I’m the ONLY one who comes to praise Heinlein, not to bury him, for instance, and where I KNOW what every panelist is going to say ahead of time, there’s going to be blood.  And while that might attract the audience, it’s not fun for the local CSI, mmkay?  Seriously – even the panels I DO enjoy I get tired of saying the same things every year.  I suspect so does the audience particularly at small local cons get tired of listening to us.

While I HATE some of the experiments, like “Speed date an author” that Mile Hi has engaged in, a lot of experiments NEED to be tried, to keep the mid size cons (and some of the smaller ones) worthwhile.

Again, make sure you don’t have “too good for the likes of you” issues.  As a midlister, I’ve often run into cons that had no idea I was “still” publishing after my first series or where the program person didn’t read my bio and assumed I was ONLY writing historical/literary fantasy.  Look, I don’t mind Shakespeare panels, but while I studied him in college and am interested in him, I’ve spent the last nine years writing non-related things.  The research I did for those books is NOT foremost in my mind.  And when what I have coming out that year is an urban fantasy and a Space Opera, offering me a forum to promote my – out of print – series not only is not useful, it doesn’t exactly make me feel like you give a flying fig for my presence.  So when I become pinched, or am on deadline (when am I not?) OR even if the kids want to go to some event that day, I’m likely to send regrets and not go.

Now, I realize most of the time (There are the odd con where my fans all gather) I am not a great loss.  But when you lose ten of fifteen people like me, you’re losing serious pull.  Get your mind out of the “one big blockbuster guest.”  The future is indie and local, and even blockbusters (unless you’re booking Rawling or Meyers) are not what they used to be.  Think “small local divinities” instead of the great pantheon.  By all means, have the guest of honor, but look, you really have no excuse not to KNOW what local midlisters are doing – not in the age of Internet you don’t – there’s wikipedia and, failing that, there’s Amazon.  Five minutes per midlister will have them feeling cherished and important.  We don’t require much.  We’re used to being second-class-citizens.  But when you don’t even bother, we feel like you think you’re too good for us.  And why would you want to do that?  To attract a higher-grade of attendee?  Good luck with that in the era of the long-tail and divided marketing trends.  You’re not in the seventies or eighties.  Not everyone agrees on what prestige is.  Cultivate loyalty, instead.

Given a minimum effort, the future of cons is better than their past.  Whither cons?  Wherever they very well please.  As with publishing houses, things are changing, but it’s not the end of the world.  You get to choose whether that glow over the horizon is Ragnarok or the bright dawn of a new day.