Return to the Comic Cons: Cons Run By Fans and Cons Run For Profit

I attend science fiction fan conventions. Since I was in high school, I have loved their community, conversation, and connection. The first conventions I attended were not-for-profit events run by fans. The folks organizing these conventions were doing it for the love of fandom. 

These conventions featured panel discussions, film, video, and game rooms, music events, art shows, dealers' rooms, con suites (to eat and talk), and countless other planned and unplanned fun. They were immersive all day (and much of the night) experiences. The featured guests at these conventions were usually writers, artists, and, in the early days, movie and television creators and stars. Even when I attended alone, I was pulled into parties, conversations, and made friends I still see at cons today. 

In the eighties, soon after the premiere of Star Trek: The Next Generation, I attended some conventions run by companies for profit. These conventions were different than the fan cons. Initially, these pro conventions only had two spaces: a main stage and a shopping mall. Sometimes, there were exhibit spaces as well. The guests at these conventions were almost exclusively movie and television stars and creators. 

Over the years, I had seen all of the original Star Trek series cast and many from the other series at a fan-run convention in St. Louis called Space Trek. However, as the pro cons grew, they became the primary or only way to see the on-screen (or screen-related) celebrities. 

At these pro run cons, I often felt like a commodity. These for-profit conventions were shows. I found a seat in a big main stage room and stayed there most of the day. Many of the presentations felt like commercials. I felt like the Ferengi had taken over the con business. 

To be fair, a few of the fan-run conventions focused far more on literary science fiction than television, movies, or comic books – sometimes with a problematic attitude. I remember a person at a panel sneering, “Haven’t you ever read Left Hand of Darkness?” But this was not true at all fan cons; each one had a unique personality. 

I was introduced to science fiction through short stories and novels and I have always been a reader. I am also an enthusiastic fan of genre television shows and movies. There are fan conventions that catered to all of these interests, even if some had a higher-brow tone. But the pro conventions focused on comic books and media (and related products). The fan cons focused on what the fans who organized and attended them wanted: some were more literary, some were more media-focused, and some included anime, comic books, music, art, and more. 

In the 90s, I was immersed in my career and family, so spending the entire weekend at a convention was impractical. Sometimes, spending a Saturday was a luxury.  I did my best to go to the two local fan-run conventions, Windycon and Capricon, as often as my schedule permitted – which wasn’t as often as I wanted. 

For decades, my connection to fandom was through these two conventions. I did not attend the big comic cons that had become popular or the professionally run conventions focused on Star Trek or newly popular franchises. Since I didn’t have as much time (or money) for conventions, when I went, I wanted to connect with community and have substantive conversations and experiences. The pro cons felt like cotton candy, the fan cons were a sustaining meal! 

As my children and I grew older, I attended a few fan-run World Science Fiction Conventions, which were everything I loved about conventions writ gargantuan. I ventured out and went to a few fan-run conventions out of town. 

Recently, I retired. Now, I have time. I attended my first comic con, C2E2 (Chicago Comics and Entertainment Exhibition). When the folks who run C2E2 announced a major Star Trek convention in Chicago, it felt like an opportunity to reacquaint myself with the pro cons. 

I enjoyed C2E2 and Star Trek Mission: Chicago. However, if I have to make a choice between these stage and store cons and the cons run by fans for fans, I am going to the latter. I had a good time and I met some nice people, but the connections were superficial and commercial. 

All conventions must make money. There are bills to pay. Convention spaces don’t donate their space or resources. However, the commercial focus at C2E2 and Mission: Chicago was prominent. For example, it was very clear that Mission: Chicago’s real mission was to sell the new Star Trek shows. It was peddling all sorts of products and subscriptions connected to them. That was its main purpose. The celebration, exploration, and community were by-products when fans buy products. 

I liked hearing from the stars and creators, yet I missed the analysis and thoughtful conversations that are often present during smaller panels. The comedian emcees at Mission: Chicago did not seem to be fans themselves and often, perhaps unconsciously, took a condescending tone. I sometimes felt like I was at an event for children. 

I met some very nice people and had good conversations with the folks sitting around me. We didn’t walk to the con suite and sit down and talk. We didn’t ask each other, “Where are you going next?” I doubt we’ll see each other at the next con. 

I was pleased to see that both pro conventions had some events beyond the main stage. However, they were few. There were a few costume-related events, a secondary stage, and a panel room (or two); skimpy by even COVID fan con standards. 

The pro cons are not cheap! They want high prices for entry – and all the stuff in the exhibit hall. They also sell products related to their famous star guests: autographs, photo opportunities, and other ways to rub shoulders with celebrities were main items on the menu– for a price. 

Fans created these conventions many years ago. Business people now use them as marketing tools. Conventions, for me, are far more than celebrities and shopping. 

I wonder what all the folks who go to these big productions would think of their local conventions? Would they join a fan group, help with a fan-based charity project, discuss a book, and become more substantively connected to the brilliant, inclusive, and thriving fan family? I hope so. The World Science Fiction Convention is coming to Chicago over Labor Day Weekend. Windycon is in November and Capricon is in February. Join us! 

Has It Really Been Only Two Years of COVID? It Feels Much Longer.

Part1: Time

For many years, I have made a family calendar as a Father’s Day gift with photos from the prior year. The calendar starts in July of the current year. Of course, some of the photos must be older than one year because I start putting the calendar together a few months early to get it ready and printed. March is that border. The photos are from one year old until April then they are two years old. 

As I turned the page on my calendar, the photos shocked me. This was no April fool joke. They were from the first month of the pandemic. I had a moment when I thought I messed up and included much older photos. I had the opposite of déjà vu is: I felt like the photos could not be only two years old. They felt ancient. 

I have written about the experience of having my adult-ish kids return home and leave – several times during the first year of the pandemic. I have written about my fears of COVID and working hard to get everyone to take precautions. But this was different. 

What struck me, as 2020 appeared on my calendar, was the power of doubt and distance. We are just returning to a kind of normal. I am still wearing a mask when I go to a store, which I am doing more often than I did in 2020, but still infrequently. Yet, there are people who act as if the whole horrible situation is over and gone. I hope they are right. 

I can’t say the second year of COVID moved quickly, but those photos from two years ago feel further from my present. Did this year feel like several years? It didn’t feel that slow while I was living it. I was busy and days flew by.  But now, as I glance backward, the reverse route seems to stretch back well beyond only two years. 

Part 2: Weight 

I don’t think the issue is just about my perception of time; it is also about the enormity of the past two years. There were many major milestones. If I had to carry them all, it would be more than I could handle. Maybe it is the emotional weight of the past two years, the anxiety, fear, relief, and hope – and that cycle repeating over and over. 

I remember riding a Superman roller coaster at a theme park many years ago. Instead of sitting in a seat, the riders were placed in a prone position, as if they were Superman flying. However, it didn’t feel that way. I felt like I was squatting on all fours and the only thing preventing me from dropping to a horrible death was the support under my belly. With roller coasters restraints that pushed me into a chair, I had the illusion I could hang on to something if the bar in front of me released. If this Superman tummy thing broke, my only hope was that I really could fly. I guess I’d fly for a few seconds. When the ride ended, all I felt was relief. 

I haven’t become accustomed to that lack of control, helplessness, and unpredictability. I carry them with me. My mask may come on and off, but I am always carrying the concern and worry (and the mask!). And when hope appears, I am suspicious and tentative. When nothing bad happens, I am grateful and relieved. 

Part 3: Balance

Right now, we are in a COVID sweet spot. People are behaving as if they believe this whole horrible two-year-long episode is over. I hope they are right, but I feel certain they are wrong. I want to take off my mask, but I am afraid of what might happen to the people I love. 

Predictability is one of the many causalities of this pandemic. Uncertainty has become a permanent resident. Every choice feels like placing a bet in a casino, without the fun thrill. 

Reading news of the world is horrifying. I give to charities and do what I can to assist, but it never seems like enough. I am frustrated by politics. I scream at the television and lament my fellow citizens’ clannishness. It is overwhelming. I face the issue and then, having looked at it, wish I could close my senses and retreat.

I am tempted to quote Dickens (and some of you know my deep relationship with the work I am about to reference), but I am so grateful that these past two years were not the worst of times – for me. They were for so many – and continue to be horrible! There were some moments that ironically felt like the best of times. My children were home, then they left. We were all together and could support each other - and then we were apart and on our own again.

Part 4: Now

It was two years ago that the world got sick. It has only become more so and in ever-increasingly complex ways. Denying what we have experienced feels disrespectful to all of those who have suffered. Selfishly focusing on my people will not protect them. I wish the pandemic were truly over. I will do what the public health folks tell me is best for our collective health, but I am painfully aware that this is a group project – and like these projects back in school, too many members of our group are not doing their fair share. The good may not balance out the bad. Our current health may not protect us against future illness. 

Yes, I must learn to cherish now – and consider how to help others while preparing for an uncertain future. But I should not sacrifice present joys to future anxieties and horrors. I can be grateful for my good fortune, help those who are struggling, and stay grounded in this positive potential. These past decades, I mean years, have taught me how agonizingly fragile the present might be. 

Reading For Treasure: Pick A College But Not Just Any College

Reading for Treasure is my list of articles that are worth your attention. Click here for an introduction! 

It’s that time of year again. High school seniors are being plagued (sorry) with the question, “What are you doing next year?” Here are some articles that might help them make those choices and prepare for next year. 

“Want to find an affordable college? There's a website for that” from NPR is a good overview of The College Scorecard website, which was just updated. It is an invaluable resource to any family sending a child to college. 

Also from NPR, “Georgetown study measures colleges' return on investment” describes a website that looks at how much college graduates earn and how different schools’ alumni perform after college. Oddly, the article does not provide you with the Georgetown study results – but I will! 

Although short and a little simple, “College and Alcohol: Sober in College (And Still Having Fun)” from yourteenmag.com is a good way to start the conversation about drinking in college. 

And while we are talking about drinking, let’s talk about sex. “At Northwestern, a Secret Society of Virgins” from the Chicago Tribune is a candid discussion about being a virgin at college. 

If there are issues, Consumer Reports addresses the question, “Will You Be Able to Help Your College-Age Child in a Medical Emergency?” It turns out that HIPAA privacy may make this challenging. This article lets you be prepared. 

From Grown and Flown, here is one parent’s experience when her son did have to go to the emergency room, “My College Freshman Went to The ER: What This Mom Learned.”

This is not my first blog post with a college focus. Here are a few posts from this blog that might come in handy as your child tries to decide what will come after high school: Avoiding mistakes and some good advice,  College Advice from Shakespeare (and me), Textbooks and Sex: A Reading List for College Students, Future College Students, and the People Who Love Them, College Readiness, and What does it mean to go to a “good school?” 

Finally, here is a powerfully candid piece from Slate that all students should read even more closely than they read (if they read) their actual college syllabuses, “My Fake College Syllabus” 

I am currently rereading This is How You Lose The Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone