Yesterday something made me look for #1 son post on cons.
Maybe because I’ve been editing the last two of Kate Paulk’s con stories (and yes, begging her to finish the next) this struck me as immensely funny.
One of the things that really got to me, besides the fact that he and Kate both decided G-d attends cons as a writer, is the fact that my son in 2008 (before Denvention, btw) thought that writers’ cons were the same as science fiction cons. This makes perfect sense if you think about it from a writer’s child point of view. I.e. when he attended the conventions, as a young child, he wasn’t doing what kids his age do: running around in packs of fans, focusing on his fandom, and having fun.
Because when we started taking him to cons he was seven and already intending to write stories and get them accepted (even if not for a living) he attended as a writer. His brother, who was 3 OTOH ran away to train with the Klingons (they promised not to eat him!) and generally has looked at cons as a fan and had fun, while #1 son was going to dinner with bestsellers and editors, and learning.
So to him, science fiction cons were writer cons, and he had no clue that writer cons are far more serious and incredibly snooty (and usually more main-streamy.)
BTW, everyone coming to the conclusion G-d is an author. This is a peculiar thing. Mostly, people think of G-d as what they are. I think the whole formed of clay thing has to do with that was something most households did, for “disposable” pots, so everyone knew the process, for instance. I guess none of us can think in four dimensions, so we do the best we can.
BTW this amused me immensely. Particularly asking an angel for McGyvering material. I have to admit that particularly 2020 and 2021 have all the signs of a writer reaching terminal stages of deadline insanity.
Eventually, almost every writer comes to the conclusion that G*d is an author. It makes some sense, when one considers the nearly soap-opera-like setting many people, especially authors, seem to live in. Since the plot is moved along by the problems that the characters encounter and face, and humans in general come to a unanimous consensus that there are way too many problems around, we can make the safe extrapolation that whatever celestial plot we are taking part in is zooming along at a merry click.
And then it occurred to me that we are always assured that said plot is not going to go wrong. Most plotters can immediately see the problem, because no matter how carefully you plot it, stories come out the way you were expecting only if you were very lucky. And one could probably assume that, if we are to believe G*d can make the proverbial kidney stone even He can’t pass, in the form of free will and such, then by logical dictate we can assume that the universe could well be a technically demanding job even for the omnipotent. If you plotted it out ahead of time, when all you can do in the end is manipulate the circumstances around the characters and let them be themselves, the chance you’d end up where you were going would be infinitesimal. Given the assumption that you could see the future, you’d still be seeing all possible futures when the actions of the subjects were variable. This, I thought, presented a quandary, and I was not about to settle for the typical “C’est la vie” theological answer of its being a “mystery”.
And then, as I was watching McGyver, suddenly the mystery was solved. McGyver said that he didn’t plan things out in advance, because plans could go wrong… the very problem I had been pondering. Would it not be possible, then, that G*d solved the problem the same way McGyver does? I do not mean that on some higher plane, G*d is sitting there looking at earth and telling an angel “I need a paperclip, some bubblegum, and a fourth dimensional divine sphere”, but certainly a plan that you make up as you go along cannot go wrong. After all, if you aren’t certain what you are supposed to do next, then it’s hard for you not to do it according to plan; there isn’t a plan until you make one up, and then, of course, your actions in doing so almost necessarily assume you are going according to plan. Especially if we think of the universe as being, in a sense, a tremendous, complex game of solitaire, it’s impossible to know what cards are coming, but the skillful player excels in dealing with the cards as they come.
End conclusion? Our Author, who art in heaven, is in all likelihood a Pantser. He has a divine plan for you, certainly, but He might not know what it is yet. I was actually somewhat relieved upon coming to this conclusion, since it meant that the universe may be screwed up at times, but, if you take the long view, it’s awfully hard for it to go astray. Unfortunately, we probably ought to worry that, in the long view, history is also inexorably a story like “The Moon is a Harsh Mistress”, and not like “Pride and Prejudice”, which would be a wonderful thing if not for the fact that we are the characters, and so ineffability is weighted towards our living in interesting times. Any historian can easily confirm that history is very rarely boring, and in fact has more sex and violence then a Brazilian soap opera.
And this bit, honest, I swear I WAS at that dinner, before Draw One In The Dark was bought.
It was while contemplating this train of thought that it occurred to me that most writers eventually go to a writer’s convention. Since Gd is reputed to be everywhere at once, we can probably assume that transportation would not be a problem in His case. Granted, your standard writer goes to a convention to network, maybe pick up some pointers on writing, although it is not unusual for them to go just because they want to have a good time and see some old friends. In most cases, Gd probably wouldn’t find that necessary. He already has the ultimate network, for starters, and I wouldn’t imagine He needs many pointers. But let’s face it… what’s the point of making a world if you can’t play in it occasionally? Most writer’s conventions are a lot of fun, even if they’re nerve wracking and even if you do go for business.
So, next time you look around a convention, be on the lookout. Don’t worry if other conventions are going on at the same time, He’s probably attending both if He’s going at all. He’ll be the quirky bestseller who you can never quite remember the nametag of, although you’ll come away with the strange impression it said “Mr. Jaho Vah”, and subsequently determine He was Swedish on this basis (speculation as to Gd’s nationality ends there, although it might explain a lot if He eventually turned out to be American. I will say, however, that although it’s a lovely country, Gd is almost certainly not Canadian.). He’ll be the largish man who sits at the back of the inevitable “How to Build Convincing Worlds” panel, giggling occasionally in a strangely unnerving way. He may, perhaps, express slight disappointment with the angel food cake in the hospitality suite, and is adamantly certain He can do it better. He will know all the secret parties and show absolutely no problems with staying up all night during the convention. He will know all the editors and agents, perhaps hinting incredibly subtly at some shady events in their past that no one could possibly know about during casual conversation, until eventually they include Him in the dinner party out of self-defense. You can spot instantly whether you have also been included in this dinner party, because one member will order the fish and be very fond of the dinner rolls (if the restaurant did not serve either of these prior to your party’s arrival, this is another dead giveaway), and no matter how little of either you originally had you will need several doggy bags for what’s left over. Writers in attendance who have previously had careers that dropped dead will miraculously see them revived, and people who were previously condemned to the slush pile with good reason shall be healed.
And before this one, I must say that the only filker son knew was someone who used to babysit for us and inflict her singing on the boys, so he thought everyone was like that, which kind of explains this part. NO real filkers were harmed in the writing of this post.
This, however, raises an uncomfortable possibility that there will also be demonic intervention. It is well known that the darker side of the occult attempts to thwart all things that the almighty does, which may well include taking a vacation. This is why preparation is of the essence. Firstly, be aware of evil forces when you see them. Keep in mind that small press editors, animé fanatics and filkers rarely invade cons en mass or travel in groups. Perhaps mischievous little tricks like the guest of honor being unable to get a badge will give it away, or if nothing else, loud groups of people who manifest outside your door at three AM to torment the three hours you have allotted for sleep.
If demonic forces do invade the conference you are at, it is important to keep in mind the con-goers basic handbook for occult defense and survival, which I will include some excerpts from.
1: The basic field kit for a con-goer should consist of at least one standard bell, one book, and one candle (Your standard issue BBC. It is very rare that you will be able to see Monty python on this kit, however.) The bell can be of any description the user wishes, although a shop bell is not recommended unless one is fighting demonic influence in the dealer’s room. Religious books are preferred, although in most cases a Heinlein book or in a pinch even something by J.K. or J.R.R. can be used by a true believer. Care should be taken with pronunciation in versions of the bible written in the original Klingon, and throat lozenges are recommended. Sadly, Manga has not shown a great deal of potency although ones with higher age ratings may be used to amuse demons with short attention spans while you run away. For the candle, use your own discretion. Something suitably impressive is usually available in the dealer’s room. Flame throwers are effective, but you shall have to convince con authorities they do not work and put a big orange tag on them. NOTE: You should not include garlic, protective herbs, or silver bullets. In the first two cases because they have absolutely no effect on the forces of darkness, and the best usefulness you can expect out of them is they may be used to flavor you. Silver bullets would only be effective against werewolf demons, which are, unfortunately, a completely unconfirmed species. If you do choose any of the above, you should take the precaution of wearing a large, noticeable protective amulet. Not that this will do you any good, but it will make IDing your remains simpler.
2: Stay away from Foci of evil. If you feel an irresistible urge to go watch the filking hour, take a few deep breaths, and look up train wrecks on YouTube. You will receive the same perverse satisfaction, but with less danger.
- Know your way around the con hotel. Because nobody needs to run into the middle of the J.K. vs. J.R.R. pajama challenge panel when they’re looking for the exit.
4.No matter how great the urge, do not attempt anything you saw on Buffy the Vampire slayer on actual demons. You should not take advice on fighting the forces of darkness from a girl who apparently went to the afterlife primarily to unwind in between huge climactic battles.
5.Avoid being badly plotted. Most writers know exactly what I mean. Do not do anything that you would not write a character doing because it would be obviously stupid. Do not under any circumstances become the best friend of anyone, since there are fifty-fifty odds that you will die in a crucial battle with the con-demons if you do. Do not develop a love interest, and if you start to, find the section of the hotel which still has cold running water and use it.
- Do not do something to annoy someone who can crush your career like a bug on a semi truck’s windshield. Because the prospect of being out of work in this business is probably worse than facing Satan himself. You are planning to survive, so be as plastically jovial as you usually are with people you don’t like and who have power over you, so that they remember how nice you were even in a crisis. Certain editors and bestsellers are probably at least as powerful as G*d, so even if you run into Him, do not bet you are saved.
Above all, remember that if you do run into the almighty, the little touches make the difference. For Catholics, a cross in your Starfleet insignia may garner some favor, for Jews, perhaps a nice yarmulke with Klingon sayings. Since writers tend to work on a “share and share alike” system, and helping newbies is common, you could get some sympathy from our Heavenly Author and become one of the few writers who actually appears to have G*d on their side.
And while on that, might I say I miss the fun of conventions. That had palled for me long before 2020, mind. Heck before 2015.
Conventions used to be a mix of fun and terror, as I was always afraid I’d say the wrong thing and unwittingly reveal my political bend. Which would be the end of my career. (Was in fact, when I got tired of it.) But they were still fun, and we used to meet all our friends. The picture above is of me and Dave Freer when we first met in the flesh…. 15 (?) years ago. (People who wouldn’t now want to be associated with us were cut out of the picture since this is my blog.)
I miss that part. And look, it’s not just the fact the cons have gone politically insane that made it bad. To an extent they always were, the masks just fell off. It’s the fact that the cons have gone irrelevant. (Which in turn allowed them to become politically insane.)
What the fans always saw was the fun, the camaraderie with similar weirdos. For the pros it was work time and we knew if we came in twenty years ago that the market was corrupt and the industry insane. (Honestly, only the darlings didn’t see it, and mostly they pretended because it favored them.)
But the pros continued attending, because that’s how you met editors. And fans attended because that’s how you met pros. And–
Well, most of that happens on line now, and frankly publishers are becoming largely irrelevant.
So I do one con, and that’s Liberty con, and it allows me to meet my fans in person. (Yes, this year too. They’ve assured me that a face shield or half a face shield is all right, and LC has been very good to me, so I try to return. If you guys decide not to do it because restrictions make it non-fun, I get it and I don’t judge. Honestly, the fact we have to drive, because planes don’t allow face shields, is almost a deal breaker. Except, you know, we have to do a cannonball run cross country around that time, to see FIL. G-d willing, anyway, we’ll be a little closer so it’s not a grueling effort. We’ll see.)
And mind you, I love my fans. But there is a certain nostalgia for the insanity of the big cons, while not missing the bad sides.
There is a certain nostalgia for a time when SF/F pretended to be collegial, even if those of us on the right knew very well to keep our mouths shut.
But in this, as in everything else, there is no going back. There is only a going forward and keeping our minds and hearts engaged to create the new awesome.
Let’s forge new cons and new gatherings where the fun flows, and indie writers get to promote without having to fear ending their career by a single, ill-considered remark.
The future waits. And it’s ours to build.