Wednesday, March 27, 2013


One thing that keeps coming up in conversations lately is the matter of cons. There are all kinds–steampunk, science fiction, horror. Some are more interested in writers and some seem to be more interested in actors and celebrities. But the question isn’t which con really, the question is how many? I know people who are attending over 10 cons a year--even more sometimes. I plan to do two this year. And I am sorely tempted to attend no more after that forever. Going to these things accomplishes nothing. And they can be quite expensive.

For the science fiction or horror fan they can be something of an escape, an excuse to put on some costume or outfit they normally wouldn’t be caught dead in and let the alter ego out for a day or two.

Writers and artists often feel they are getting something out of them in the form of contacts or perhaps even building a fan base. I’m not sure that’s the case. I’ve ran into people a month after a con in some store or venue and they usually have no idea who the heck I am or why I think I know them. So, I am increasingly viewing the whole process as something of a waste of time.

I seem to be getting way more cynical these days. Way more.

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