I’m occupying some space in a restaurant at the Boston airport, drinking Blue Moon at just after noon local time. This is the start of Operation: Get Drunk Before the Flight, which may not be a great plan, but it’s the only plan we’ve got right now.
Ah, Arisia. It’s not you, it’s me…
I moderated my one (1) panel at this event, and it went fine. There were more people in the audience than on the panel, which is good. I think I did a fine job as moderator. It was fine. I’m fine. We’re all fine, now, thank you. How are you?
I’m pretty sure this is my last Arisia, and it’s not because it’s a bad con. The content is simply not geared towards me, and I don’t really know that many people in attendance. If I had participated in the convention properly in 2024, I might have figured this out way, way sooner and saved myself about $2000.
“Brian,” you ask, “what is wrong with Arisia? And did you just add something to your blog in second person, you absolute mad-lad?”
Yes, I did. And there’s nothing wrong with Arisia. I’m just not their target audience.
When I first saw that I only had one panel, I thought that was strange, since I had been very thoughtful with my responses to their questionnaire, and I put myself out there as highly available. But then I saw the actual program and it all made sense.
When I attend SFF conventions, I’m typically looking for content that is around writing, stories, the business of writing, and other related topics. That is not what Arisia is about, though.
The audience of Arisia are geeks like me, but the focus of the content is stuff in fandom I rarely participate in. For example, they had quite a bit in support of crafting, costuming, and comics. They had 3 panels on polyamory.
On the last day, first thing in the morning, they scheduled the panel I moderated, which was on the intersectionality of SFF and literary and mainstream stories. If I were still friends with Fuckface, I could have geeked out with him over the topic since that’s his absolute jam. But he’s a Fuckface, now, and can fuck all the way off.
The Blue Moon is starting to hit. I should wrap this up.
Arisia and I don’t have that much in common, so I don’t think I’ll be seeing her again. Again, this is not a slight against Arisia. I’m not her target audience, so let’s just part amicably with our happy memories and see other people.
“You phrased that weird,” you say. “It doesn’t sound like you had a very good weekend.”
It wasn’t a bad weekend, but it was expensive for what it was.
I went out and talked to people, but not much. I ate and slept at strange hours, because I was alone and in a different time zone. I worked on The Psychic Out of Time a little bit, but progress is slow and I’m not feeling particularly inspired.
At my boss’s behest, I brought my work laptop with me, and I used it. My Surface Pro 6 is pretty weak, but our development laptops are gaming computers in disguise, so I installed Kerbal Space Program and played that a little bit.
I didn’t need to come to Boston for what I accomplished this weekend.
Why did Arisia invite me to participate as a panelist in the first place? That’s a real mystery. If I hadn’t been invited, I wouldn’t have come.
It is a little after 1PM. I have almost 4 hours to kill before I board my flight and head home. I’ll nurse this beer and try to Hemmingway my way into the next part of The Psychic Out of Time. If I write a bunch of crap, I can edit it later. I just want to make some progress and be done with this story. Maybe I’ll be done with Mel Walker entirely, after that.