A conning we will go, a conning we will go, high ho the merry oh...

One of the major pieces of advice I give to new writers, writer wannabees, and the ravening masses of fans that want "MORE!" is to go to conventions. Yes, the cost can be prohibitive (and if you far from the domed cities of industrial progress, even more so because of travel and lodging). I understand that very well, this being a year of living as a very poor bear. But you really want to make the effort.

Going to cons gets you to rub elbows with like minded geeks people. For those of us from the hinter lands this is the same as finding your community, although standing at the registration desk after having put on your attendee badge and shouting, "My people" is not the way to win over friends. Just saying. Going to cons, for the writer, is more like going to a business function (although do not, Do Not, DO NOT! go with only this goal in mind) where you can meet the rising, shining brightly, and flamed-out stars in the genre. While you may need to practice your sharp elbow technique to get close to the likes of Neil Gaiman, working your way through the throngs of groupies the way sharks work their way through a bait ball, most writers are no so fortunate as to be plagued with such maddening crowds.

Heck, the first time I met John Scalzi (or John Scalvi for you very savvy people out there) I simply walked up to him as he held court (there was an opening at the end of the circle, no blood shedding was required), waited for a break in the conversation and him to acknowledge I was there and then said, "Hi, I'm Steve, I comment on your blog." Well, actually John was making a comment about how he could put anything on his blog and get responses and how entertaining and frightening it was. He could, say, make a post that only said, "My big toe hurts" and get forty-five comments in the space of an hour to prove this point to a radio interviewer. I raised my hand and said, "I think I was post number three on that one."

Now, and here is a big hint at behavior at cons, which is why I broke it out into a separate paragraph, in that circle were (IIRC) Karl Schroeder, Jeff Beeler, Catherine Schaffer, Jim C. Hines, and three other people (including a late arrive Tobias and Emily Buckell). I was way, way out of my weight class. The only writers I knew there were John and Tobias (Tobias I had met before, John I only knew from his blog and reading one book). I met a whole cadre of other writers whom I'll probably miss one or two so I'll just say it was a bunch of them, and I value talking with them all the time (at last year's Confusion I spent a great deal of time drinking and talking with them, Mer Haskell is one of those). I quickly realized I had not done my proper homework and was flubbing the pop quiz I had just invited on myself. At another year's version of Confusion I found myself sitting at a table with David Kletcha, Paul Melko, Jim Frenkel and Patrick Nielsen Hayden. John Scalzi came and sat for a few minutes. To say I felt like a feather-weight that suddenly found himself in the summo ring would be an understatement. But, in both circumstances, I did my best. I learned from them (Karl Schroeder is especially a very cool person to shoot the breeze with, just ask him about his day job, if you aren't impressed, you didn't hear him correctly). In all those circumstance be yourself (very hard when your personality starts whimpering like a scared puppy), be engaging, be humorous, and ask them about what they know. Do not only talk about writing (it'll come up, don't worry, and if it's organic you'll learn a whole lot more). Never, ever, pretend to be something you're not.

Also, while running into the heavy weights is fun (and listening to them is even better), one thing about cons is finding people. Just. Like. You. You have a Star Trek uniform, want to wear it, but you know your coworkers would laugh? They won't at a genre convention (although you may get critical analysis, such as wearing the wrong insignia on a particular uniform style). Heck, at last year's "Costume Ball" there was one person who wasn't wearing much more than electrical tape (and not a lot of that) and flashing lights. Wearing a trek uniform is tame. Seriously, it's a time to get your geek on.

So, if you can swing it, go. If you need more advice, here's some excellent tips called Erin's Tea and No Tea Guide to Convention Etiquette (via Jay Lake's link salad). She has excellent advice. Read and do thou likewise.

And the last piece of advice (at least for now, there are other tips like budgeting) about going to cons? Have fun. Seriously. If you're not enjoying yourself at a con you're doing it wrong. Also, expect to be exhausted at the end of it.

And yes, I am thinking about these things because I'm starting to freak out that I'll be on my first convention panel in two weeks time.