![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
Comic Con 2010: Wrap Up
I simply cannot believe that it's over. At least this year, I knew that there would be that a sense of "Oh, the real world is boringly mundane compared to this!" It felt weird to be downtown again the next day, but without any sense of impending fun, just work.
The highlights: As always, the highlights were seeing friends (yay,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ashears and psychoe!) and the smaller, lower key areas of the Con, like the Small Press area, the Independent Press tables, and Artist's Alley. The contact with artists and writers that those places allows is just amazing and personal, and it's something that I cannot get anywhere else at any other time of year. It's one thing to read a favorite web comic, but it's another to tell the artist what you think and have him respond in just the way you hoped. And it's great to find some awesome vendor selling neat artwork who you hadn't known about before, but there they are. And, most amazing of all, it's wonderful to hear about technique from people involved in almost every part of production. I had a very interesting conversation with a woman in Artist's Alley about her job inking, and how difficult that truly is.
The other tremendous highlight is the simple pleasure of nerdish comradeship.psydolivia and I were sitting in a park on Wednesday afternoon last week, waiting for things to get started, and another woman saw O's t-shirt and said in a friendly tone, "Hey, Browncoat Girls!" This is the one time out of the year when people get the references on my t-shirts or pins, and appreciate them (or at least don't actively mock them.) I say that I recharge my nerd batteries, and that sounds a little facetious, but it's true: each year, I leave the Con feeling better for having been there, and like I can tackle whatever's coming up in the following year because I got my nerdish persona on.
Best Swag: I got one of the HUGE BBC America bags with Doctor Who on one side, but this was mostly because I asked for it nicely and didn't pester the staff at the booth. (I kept missing the times when they were actually handing them out.)
The "lowlights": I was annoyed this year that the moderators of the panels I went to seemed to think that their jobs simply consisted of asking questions that would get the conversational ball rolling, and then doing nothing else. This meant that there were several times when participants couldn't get a word in edgewise, and the moderators did nothing. (Even a simple "I believe so-and-so has something to add" would have been fine!) It didn't help that the panels were all very large, either. Five authors/celebrities/executives could have gotten the point across just as easily as seven, and in a more coherent fashion, too.
Last year, there was a guy wandering around with a sign that said "Twilight ruined ComiCon!" I wanted to find that guy this year and fix his sign. The presence of Hallmark bothered me quite a bit, particularly because they took up two booths (I am sorry, Hallmark, but your greeting card characters do not merit a booth of their own, and your other booth was entirely based around Star Wars and Twilight wrapping paper), but also because this is a company that really and truly had nothing to do with comics and popular culture other than the merchandising opportunity. As much as I hate to admit it, Twilight can arguably be called a counter-culture phenomenon, and there are vampires, monsters that have inhabited comics for years... so even there's a degree of separation, there's still a connection. Hallmark, on the other hand, doesn't give a damn about anything except making money, and comics are just a convenient way for them to do so. Really, Hallmark's booths are an indication of how far the pendulum of ComiCon has swung towards the capitalism end of things, and how far away from its original aim it truly is now.
On being at the Con while pregnant and looking to the years ahead: I had been antsy about attending while pregnant and quickly tried to get a bead on where disability services was in relation to where I was. (Not that I am disabled, of course, but the program did clearly state there was a rest area for nursing and expectant mothers.) But for the most part, I was careful and it paid off. I didn't ever get the point where I was so exhausted I had to sit down or felt dizzy; I kept hydrated and ate lots of little snacks along the way. Probably, if this had happened a little later in the pregnancy, I would have had a worse time of it.
Of course, I was mindful of the "end product", so to speak, asyebisu9 and I strategized about what we would do next year. (This year was our last time to do all four days.) I encountered a woman with her 5-month-old, who assured me several times that "coming to the Con with a little one is fine! He's no trouble!" As she was saying this, the kid was starting to wail, and not the "oh, I am fussing for attention now, and will stop soonish" kind of cry, but a serious "you're gonna PAY" cry. I thought this woman had a somewhat unrealistic view of the situation, although it was nice that she was trying to be kind to me. But, frankly, I saw far too many people with very, very young children (the youngest being 8 weeks old!). And I will try not to be horribly judgmental with this next sentence, but: Kids younger than five should not attend the Con. (Oh, who am I kidding? That was totally judgmental. Well. Anyway.) There's far too much for them to take in, and making other attendees contend with their tantrums, strollers, and assorted kid paraphernalia is not fair to any of the involved parties, including the kid. This is not to say that I want a militantly childfree stance on the part of the Con, and I understand there are parents who do make it work (although at their own great expense). I do realize that the Con offers childcare, too. But I think that some parents really need to reevaluate their own entitlement to a fannish experience, especially in respect to simple courtesy to other participants--a screaming child in a small panel or a double stroller in the Exhibit Hall is not acceptable.
As for the rampant speculation about where the Con will end up after the contract ends in 2012: if it goes anywhere else, that's it. We won't attend anymore. We can't afford the tickets AND the hotel AND the parking/travel costs AND the food in another city. (I do realize we've been tremendously lucky until this point.) If it stays, we will definitely continue going, although likely in a much truncated fashion, as we'll be dependent on the goodwill of Grammy and Grandpa to look after Little Squeak.
Still, screaming kids, rampant capitalism, and extreme fatigue aside, it was entirely worth it. I had so much fun, and I cannot wait to go again next year, in whatever way I can.
The highlights: As always, the highlights were seeing friends (yay,
ashears and psychoe!) and the smaller, lower key areas of the Con, like the Small Press area, the Independent Press tables, and Artist's Alley. The contact with artists and writers that those places allows is just amazing and personal, and it's something that I cannot get anywhere else at any other time of year. It's one thing to read a favorite web comic, but it's another to tell the artist what you think and have him respond in just the way you hoped. And it's great to find some awesome vendor selling neat artwork who you hadn't known about before, but there they are. And, most amazing of all, it's wonderful to hear about technique from people involved in almost every part of production. I had a very interesting conversation with a woman in Artist's Alley about her job inking, and how difficult that truly is.The other tremendous highlight is the simple pleasure of nerdish comradeship.
psydolivia and I were sitting in a park on Wednesday afternoon last week, waiting for things to get started, and another woman saw O's t-shirt and said in a friendly tone, "Hey, Browncoat Girls!" This is the one time out of the year when people get the references on my t-shirts or pins, and appreciate them (or at least don't actively mock them.) I say that I recharge my nerd batteries, and that sounds a little facetious, but it's true: each year, I leave the Con feeling better for having been there, and like I can tackle whatever's coming up in the following year because I got my nerdish persona on.Best Swag: I got one of the HUGE BBC America bags with Doctor Who on one side, but this was mostly because I asked for it nicely and didn't pester the staff at the booth. (I kept missing the times when they were actually handing them out.)
The "lowlights": I was annoyed this year that the moderators of the panels I went to seemed to think that their jobs simply consisted of asking questions that would get the conversational ball rolling, and then doing nothing else. This meant that there were several times when participants couldn't get a word in edgewise, and the moderators did nothing. (Even a simple "I believe so-and-so has something to add" would have been fine!) It didn't help that the panels were all very large, either. Five authors/celebrities/executives could have gotten the point across just as easily as seven, and in a more coherent fashion, too.
Last year, there was a guy wandering around with a sign that said "Twilight ruined ComiCon!" I wanted to find that guy this year and fix his sign. The presence of Hallmark bothered me quite a bit, particularly because they took up two booths (I am sorry, Hallmark, but your greeting card characters do not merit a booth of their own, and your other booth was entirely based around Star Wars and Twilight wrapping paper), but also because this is a company that really and truly had nothing to do with comics and popular culture other than the merchandising opportunity. As much as I hate to admit it, Twilight can arguably be called a counter-culture phenomenon, and there are vampires, monsters that have inhabited comics for years... so even there's a degree of separation, there's still a connection. Hallmark, on the other hand, doesn't give a damn about anything except making money, and comics are just a convenient way for them to do so. Really, Hallmark's booths are an indication of how far the pendulum of ComiCon has swung towards the capitalism end of things, and how far away from its original aim it truly is now.
On being at the Con while pregnant and looking to the years ahead: I had been antsy about attending while pregnant and quickly tried to get a bead on where disability services was in relation to where I was. (Not that I am disabled, of course, but the program did clearly state there was a rest area for nursing and expectant mothers.) But for the most part, I was careful and it paid off. I didn't ever get the point where I was so exhausted I had to sit down or felt dizzy; I kept hydrated and ate lots of little snacks along the way. Probably, if this had happened a little later in the pregnancy, I would have had a worse time of it.
Of course, I was mindful of the "end product", so to speak, as
yebisu9 and I strategized about what we would do next year. (This year was our last time to do all four days.) I encountered a woman with her 5-month-old, who assured me several times that "coming to the Con with a little one is fine! He's no trouble!" As she was saying this, the kid was starting to wail, and not the "oh, I am fussing for attention now, and will stop soonish" kind of cry, but a serious "you're gonna PAY" cry. I thought this woman had a somewhat unrealistic view of the situation, although it was nice that she was trying to be kind to me. But, frankly, I saw far too many people with very, very young children (the youngest being 8 weeks old!). And I will try not to be horribly judgmental with this next sentence, but: Kids younger than five should not attend the Con. (Oh, who am I kidding? That was totally judgmental. Well. Anyway.) There's far too much for them to take in, and making other attendees contend with their tantrums, strollers, and assorted kid paraphernalia is not fair to any of the involved parties, including the kid. This is not to say that I want a militantly childfree stance on the part of the Con, and I understand there are parents who do make it work (although at their own great expense). I do realize that the Con offers childcare, too. But I think that some parents really need to reevaluate their own entitlement to a fannish experience, especially in respect to simple courtesy to other participants--a screaming child in a small panel or a double stroller in the Exhibit Hall is not acceptable.As for the rampant speculation about where the Con will end up after the contract ends in 2012: if it goes anywhere else, that's it. We won't attend anymore. We can't afford the tickets AND the hotel AND the parking/travel costs AND the food in another city. (I do realize we've been tremendously lucky until this point.) If it stays, we will definitely continue going, although likely in a much truncated fashion, as we'll be dependent on the goodwill of Grammy and Grandpa to look after Little Squeak.
Still, screaming kids, rampant capitalism, and extreme fatigue aside, it was entirely worth it. I had so much fun, and I cannot wait to go again next year, in whatever way I can.