Worldcon Post

This year I went to my second-ever Worldcon, taking place in Kansas City, Missouri. In general, I'm coming to realize that conventions for science fiction and fantasy fans tend to be more my speed than gaming conventions. If nothing else, the attendance tends to be much, much smaller, meaning it doesn't feel quite so crowded and full.

The convention center itself was gigantic - I'm pretty sure it was at least a city block long, and may have been a block wide as well. This was good and bad - good, in that there were plenty of wide hallways and areas for people to sit and recharge (either themselves or their phones) without feeling like they're block traffic; bad in that everything was a decent distance away from everything else. On a good day, this isn't a problem; however, I was using my cane the entire convention, and I was feeling the extra distance every time I walked around.

The panels themselves were, by and large, fantastic. I went to a couple of readings for authors I truly enjoy, and loved being able to hear stories from them about how they've gone about writing their works (or re-writing, in some cases). I also got to be called Mark Oshiro's favorite - when he got to the Q&A portion of his reading, my first question was "So, you mention that the main character dropped his bus card. When did he pick it back up? Because he leaves the terminal..." and got a "...God dammit, let me write that down" in response. (I later called him a terrible human being, and he thanked me. Good times were had by all!)

Several of the panels left me with lists of book recommendations, which is always a bonus. It's wonderful hearing about different writing styles from multiple points of view, and realizing once again that there isn't really a "right" way to write. It was also lovely to hear an editor manage to articulate her issues with J.K. Rowling's North American wizarding school, and not have it come across as simply bashing the author. (Her point was that, throughout the Harry Potter books, the world is a monolith - the only part of Great Britain that we see is London, and the countryside where Hogwarts is, which is not near any real city. Having one school for all of North America, and having it somehow lump all of the cultures that make up the countries of this continent shoved together, is in keeping with her already problematic writing style.)

It isn't to say that it was all wine and roses. As I mentioned previously, I personally had a little trouble with loneliness, and the first couple of days I felt as though I were being judged for using my cane and thus taking up more space than I "should". Rightly or wrongly, that was the impression I got. I was fortunate enough to (literally) stumble upon the Accessibility table on my third day, and received a badge ribbon that made things a little easier.

The demographics of the convention attendees still skewed pretty heavily toward Caucasian, though there were significantly more PoC than I've seen in the first few Norwescons I went to, for example. However, the demographics of the panelists didn't really reflect the diversity of the attendees. It can be really hard to get excited about a community that doesn't allow you to see yourself in a position of authority.

On the other hand, the Hugos were a thing of beauty. It wasn't a complete Sad/Rabid Puppy shut-out, and I didn't believe it would be - this year, they hedged their bets by including works on their slate that had a wide range of appeal. Still, we had three of the four prose categories won by people of color (including one translation, which included the translator as a part of the award, which I think is awesome), several of the award winners who couldn't make it in person used their chance to provide a written acceptance speech to call out the BS of the Puppies and how important diversity in fandom and fiction is, and two of the awards were accepted by astronauts. It's hard to beat that.

Overall, I'm very glad I went. Next year's Worldcon will be in Finland, which means I will probably not be attending, but I still plan to get a supporting membership and have the opportunity to nominate and vote for the Hugo awards. What about you? Will you make the trek to Helsinki, or watch the livestream with many of the rest of us as we see how the Hugos turn out next year?

The Politics of Everything

It's been an interesting few months to be a fan, and things have come to a head this last weekend with the announcement of the nominees for the Hugo Awards.  io9 has probably the best write-up about the situation, but the short version is that a couple of fairly big authors decided to put together "slates" of potential nominees, and used their clout to help get these slates onto the short list for the Hugos.

Now, anything that relies on feedback from the public at large is going to have groups that have agendas that have nothing to do with the actual merits of the award.  It isn't all that surprising that there was some backlash from last year's nominations and wins, but it's still incredibly frustrating.

As readers of this blog/people who know me IRL know, I'm a lot of things.  I'm a feminist, in that I believe people should be treated equally, regardless of gender.  I'm a minority in world of fandom in a lot of ways - I'm a woman, I'm mixed-race, I'm mentally ill, etc.  There are certain (very small, thankfully) groups within the fan community that would rather I left their sandbox alone, lest I get my cooties all over them.

I spent this past weekend at Norwescon, which will always hold a special place in my heart as the first convention I ever attended.  I was surrounded by "my people" - people who enjoyed what I enjoyed, who would catch the semi-obscure references I throw into conversation on a regular basis, and who would be able to give me recommendations for other things to try.  It's a wonderful weekend in a place that tends to ignore all those things that I am, and actively rejects that group of fandom that doesn't want us.

Even there, however, there was no way to get away from the politics.  There were entire panels dedicated to diversity in games and books, and learning how to deal with the people who want to maintain the status quo.  There were ribbons for badges to help people become more comfortable in their environment by making their preferred pronouns clear, and their comfort with complete strangers.  I appreciate that the effort is being made to make people comfortable and give them a safe place to geek out, but it still saddens me that it's necessary to be so explicit in making sure that people treat each other like, well, decent human beings.

Mostly, however, I'm just tired.  I'm exhausted by the fear I feel every time I express an opinion.  I'm tired of the amount of time I spend policing my language to make sure that not only do I not offend, but also that am "enough" - feminist enough, Hispanic enough, supportive enough of those who are under constant attack.  I'm tired of knowing that any moment, an author or other content creator whose work I enjoy will have something come up online which will make their work "problematic", and I'm tired of justifying continuing to consume their content after finding out about their problematic tendencies.  I hate that reading a book or going to a movie is a political statement, and I'm terrified that if I ever do become any kind of public figure, the words I'm writing right now may be used against me.

The glow of a weekend of geekdom was marred by the outrage regarding the Hugos.  I realize it's completely naive, but I want to lose myself in a world with characters that are interesting and ignore the real world for a while.  I read to learn, and I read to escape, and right now what I want to escape is the world surrounding fandom.  I'm just afraid that it's becoming too much to ask anymore.