For the last few years, I have rarely attended a convention where
I couldn’t commute from home, and they are few, so I was delighted to invited
to attend Convolution, a fairly new
convention, held at the Hyatt Regency near the San Francisco airport. It was a
bit of a drive, but Dave Trowbridge, my lovely spouse, was invited to be a
guest, too, and that meant help for the long, late trudge home over twisty
mountain roads. For both of us, the convention was an enjoyable, stimulating,
and worthwhile endeavor.
The first thing both of us noticed was the quality of the
programming: interesting topics over a wide range of interests. Every event
(panels, autographing, reading) that I was included on was something I wanted
to be on. The logistics were supportive, too: when I commute, I often face the
challenge that the programming folks do not listen when I ask to have my panels
grouped together. These folks paid heed, and gave me a wonderful lineup of
events. The panels were scheduled every 2 hours, with half an hour for break or
wending one’s way along the loooong periphery of each floor.
Registration for guest panelists was smooth and
uncomplicated, despite the fact we got there early on Friday afternoon, when
chaos typically reigns over convention organization. The Green Room – often a
place I dash into and out of because of the loud monologs by a few folks who
treat it as their private preserve – was a welcoming place, in no small way due
to the warmth and friendliness of the volunteers staffing it.
As a result of having many panels at the same time and the
remoteness of the locations, many events were sparsely attended. (Not all, as
Dave told me that one of his panels – Religion in SF – was packed.) At first, I
found this a bit disappointing, until I wandered into the GoH klatch (informal
discussion) and found myself in a room with 4 other people and Tanya Huff, so I
have decided it did have its compensations!
A few downsides: There were a number of errors in room
locations for various events; some appeared to be scheduled in two places at
once with no signage as to which was the correct location. The hotel itself was
suboptimal. Few spaces created natural meeting places or “community centers”
for the convention. Instead, it felt as we were rattling around in a much
larger, mundane place. Many of the panels and other events were in conference
rooms located along room corridors. This exacerbated the problem of confusing
or inaccurate locations.
The hotel restaurant seemed ill-prepared to serve hungry convention-goers,
particularly on Friday night. Then the restaurant was closed and only a few
tables afforded dining in the bar area. Our party of 5 was told to wait until
one of these limited tables opened up, until we asked to speak with a manager.
The food, although good, was quite pricey, even by hotel standards. Most other convention
hotels offer lower-priced fast-food items as an alternative to elegant,
leisurely dining. Parking was expensive, even with the discount, which is only
to be expected for an airport hotel.
My scheduling began Friday afternoon with a panel on Classics
of SF with Dave, moderator Brad Lyau, and Artist GoH Jeff Sturgeon. Instead
of listing the same old Golden Age repertoire, we dived into a lively
discussion of what makes a classic, where do we draw the boundaries of science
fiction, what were our gateways to the genre, what works should every literate
person be familiar with, and what works might be retrospectively added. Brad
brought his academic expertise, particularly in the area of international
science fiction, for added perspective. And the rest of us were brilliant.
Next up was “The UnPanel,” an event Dave and I began a few
years back. It’s a facilitated listening workshop that turns the notion of a panel
inside out. Everyone gets a chance to speak without interruption on a topic
chosen by the facilitators after learning how to really listen. Because the
group was small, each person got ample uninterrupted time to explore their
experience of the first book they fell in love with.
I had the delightful experience of sharing a reading
slot with Helen Springer, Setsu Uzume, and Juliette Wade. The selections
reflected the diversity of our field – dramatic, humorous, fantastical, tragic,
romantic, and combinations of all of them. I wanted to run out and buy works by
them all!
Then came our dinner adventure, as described above, with Book
View Café members and allies. Dave and I drove home (he drove, I slept), fell
into bed, then got up and did it all over again.
I began Saturday morning with the Book
View Café panel, with Maya Kaathryn Bohnhoff, Amy Sterling Casil, Madeleine
Robins, Dave, and me, which turned into a sort of impromptu BVC meeting, since
Kit and Howard Kerr were in the audience as well as the panel. One non BVC
audience member was a customer, and we pelted her with questions about her experience
buying books from us. Next time, we really should rope in more of our
book-buying audience!
My friend Juliette Wade and I overlapped autographing
sessions, so we hung out together, talking shop. The table was outside the
dealers room, always a good idea.
My last panel was one I’d been looking forward to: Handling
Rejection in Writing. I moderated fellow panelists Gail Carriger, Juliette
Wade, Jon Del Arroz, and Matthew Marovich. Actually, moderating was unnecessary
with such an articulate group. We told funny stories, heart-breaking stories,
considered the fine art of rejectomancy, and offered support and encouragement
to a member of the audience who was struggling to break in with a first sale.
Following that, I snuck into Tanya Huff’s klatch for an
hour, enjoying her spin tales of Martin guitars, life in the country, and many
other things. Then a group of friends braved the one nearby restaurant, rather
than the overpriced if quite good hotel restaurant food (where the prices were
low, but the food quality was even lower), a nice ending to my stint. The
convention continued for another day, and I wish I had been able to sit in on a
few of the many panels that interested me. For a closer hotel, I might have
come back.
I’ll return to Convolution next year and hope you’ll check
it out, too. Hopefully, some of the hotel problems will be resolved, but the
programming and great conversations will continue.
The painting is by Giuseppe de Gobbis (fl. Venice 1772–1783).
No comments:
Post a Comment