Science Fiction Conventions

The two girls were wearing fur bikinis, live ferrets, and very little else.  The

A Few Convention Badges

moment I saw them, I nearly turned around and walked out of the hotel, away from my very first ever science fiction convention.

The year was 1989.  The convention was Lunacon, held that year in Tarrytown, New York.  I was a newly-minted PhD.   I’d come to see and, maybe – if I could get my courage up – to meet, a writer who had been kind enough to exchange a few letters with me.

The writer was Roger Zelazny.  The meeting did happen and had huge consequences for my life, but it nearly didn’t happen because of those cute girls and their ferrets.

Despite having been a long-time science fiction and fantasy reader, at that point I had not discovered SF Fandom.  I’d heard a few vague rumors of “Trekkies,” but, as these were always presented as extremely weird people who wore Spock ears, I wasn’t exactly eager to seek them out.  Although Washington, D.C., my hometown, apparently has and had a very active fan community, they didn’t touch my own life.  Equally, although I went to college in New York (Fordham University, Rose Hill campus in the Bronx) and had a few friends who did SCA events, I didn’t hear about SF Fandom then, either.

So it took until I was in my mid-twenties for me to find out about SF conventions.  I wouldn’t have heard about this one except that a friend called and said something along the lines of, “Hey.  I just got a flyer across my desk.  That author who’s answered a couple of your letters is going to be at a science fiction conference.  Maybe we should all go.”

And we did, thus beginning my involvement with science fiction conventions, an involvement that has now become a regular part of my life.

Why do I like science fiction conventions?  Is it all only about self-promotion?  Is it just about outreach to readers and potential readers?

No.  It’s not.  Soon after that first, rather startling, Lunacon, I moved to Lynchburg, Virginia, in order to take a job teaching English at Lynchburg College.  There I discovered that Virginia hosted several science fiction conventions.  I think the first one I went to there was the now-defunct RoVaCon, but I also went to a convention near the coast.  I can’t remember the name of that one, but I met Phyllis White there.  She owns Flying Coyote books and sold me a copy of Dayton O. Hyde’s  Don Coyote, a non-fiction book that contributed a great deal first to my  novel Marks of Our Brothers and, some years later, to Changer and Legends Walking.

By then, I was learning that science fiction fans are interested in a lot more than just science fiction.  In fact, I learned it was usually the other way around: The reason people become interested in science fiction and fantasy is because they are interested in a whole lot more.

RoVaCon got me involved in fandom after I was asked by the director if I would be on the board.  That was an interesting experience, since the convention would start self-destructing that very year.  However, since I acquired my  dear friend and pen pal, Paul Dellinger, through the experience, I can’t complain.

RoVaCon’s self-destruction led to me learning even more about fandom after several of my friends teamed up with one of the factions to found a new convention.  The new convention started as Kaleidoscope and was associated with the Lynchburg city festival of that name.  When the convention moved, it was re-named SheVaCon, for Shenandoah Valley Convention.  For several years, I worked on the convention behind the scenes.  In fact, until just a few years ago, I could still find paragraphs I’d written in the program book!

From working on Kaleidoscope and SheVaCon, I learned even more about fandom.  Not only are fans largely very intelligent and well-read, they are also amazingly generous with their time.  Many of the fans I met – including the Klingon club which provided convention security – worked with literacy groups, hospitals, and as fund-raisers for other organizations.  Many conventions include a charity auction in their events, often raising substantial funds.

I also learned how very tolerant fans can be of difference – even when it’s hostile.  Lynchburg was home to some right-wing Christians who decided it would be a great thing if they could cause problems for “that Satanist D&D group.”  They came to the convention on a Sunday morning and made pointed, rude comments.  When  this failed to cause a rumpus, they started loudly singing hymns in the hotel foyer.  I think they were shocked when the fans – led by the Klingons in full costume – applauded loudly.

And this tolerance wasn’t an isolated case.  Over the years I’ve been to many conventions at hotels that also had some other – often religious – event going on.  Convention staff not only politely answered questions, but often offered a free day-pass so the curious could see what’s really going on outside of the public areas.

When I moved to New Mexico, fandom made me welcome.  I still remember how Craig Chrissenger (the Bubonicon con-chair) was horrified when he realized that Roger Zelazny’s date was also a writer.  “I didn’t put you on any programming!” he said, obviously ready to hurry off and do so immediately.  I told him that was okay.  I only had a few short stories out then and was feeling pretty shy anyhow.

But the next year, when my first novels were out, the fans came to the signings.  And I’ve always had plenty of programming at Bubonicon since.  I’ve been part of fund-raising that has benefitted organizations as varied as local food banks, the Jack Williamson collection at Eastern New Mexico University, and our local wolf sanctuary.  I was Guest of Honor for Bubonicon 30 and Toastmaster a few years ago, when I had the pleasure of interviewing Vernor Vinge.

Bubonicon is this coming weekend.  I’m making “Slightly Spicy Cream Cheese Roll-ups” for the Author’s Tea.  I’m on a couple of panels, including one on Jules Verne with the translator for the new authoritative edition of many of Verne’s novels.   And I think I’m going to read “Hunting the Unicorn.”

It’ll be fun…  This time,  if I see a couple of girls in fur bikinis, wearing ferrets, well, I’ll probably wander over and ask if I can hold one of the ferrets.

(I’d love to hear about your convention experiences!)

Advertisement