I’ve had one or two opportunities to be on a panel at conventions, and I’ve turned them down.  After my post yesterday, where I talked at length about what I’d like to see on a world building panel, this might seem to be a contradiction.

I’m intelligent, and I think I compose myself fairly well.  I enjoy talking and sharing what I’ve learned.  On some subjects, I have quite a bit to contribute to a panel.

The problem is that I haven’t earned it yet.

For those of you that don’t attend conventions or panels, this probably doesn’t mean much to you.  You might even be wondering why I’ve now dedicated two posts in a row to this thing.  Let me break it down a little bit, because underneath it all is something that everyone can relate to.

When I went to Renovention, my first WorldCon, it woke something in me that I thought had died.  It was my dream of being a successful writer.  I was overwhelmed by a feeling of belonging.  I connected with a community filled with people that I could relate to, that understood me.  It was an experience that inspired me and changed my life.

Since then, I’ve attended two other conventions, and several smaller ones.  I’ve started taking my wife with me to them, and she’s seen me in my element.  And at all of them, I’ve attended panels, taking notes and trying to learn all that I can.

The people that get to be on these panels are, at least for a moment, set apart from the rest.  They’re given a name.  They’re given a responsibility to share what they’ve learned.  They’re given the spotlight, and a chance for people to listen to them.

I want to share what I’ve learned.  I want people to listen.

But who am I?  I’m smart, and I’ve got some talent, but that’s most of us.  Why should my name be on a card, and why should anyone listen to what I have to say?

The truth is, I’m blowing this up into a much bigger deal than it is.  Most of the panels I’ve attended, I’d never heard of the people on the panel.  They’re just folks like you or me.  Maybe they’ve had a little bit more success in the industry, but not always.

And of course, I’ve attended some panels where some of the people didn’t seem like they should have been panelists in the first place.

I don’t want to be one of those people.

I want to earn my name on a folded bit of cardboard.  If I’m ever on a panel, and someone were to ask, “Who are you?” I want to be able to answer, “I’m Brian C. E. Buhl.  I wrote The Repossessed Ghost.” It doesn’t matter if they’ve read it or not.  It only matters that I wrote it, and put it out there.

It is another stick to throw on my motivational fire. Until I’ve put something out there, I’m not going to be on any panels.  No matter how much I might want to.