A friend asked me for some tips on convention going, and I realized there might be others with the same questions, so I thought I’d talk about it a bit here.

To give some context, I went to my first convention at 14, I think, then my next at 18, but I didn’t really start going consistently until the late ’90s – early 2000s. I have been to two smallish conventions, Confluence in Pittsburgh and Potlatch in San Francisco, once each, while my “local” convention is BayCon, which I have only recently realized is quite large. I’ve also been to World Fantasy and World Con, each only once, but that’s something I plan to change when able. Another annual convention I “go” to is The Muse Online Writers Conference, but these tips have more relevance for in-person conventions.

As you can see from the list above, I have quite a bit of convention experience, something that no doubt surprises me more than you, and in a variety of circumstances. One of the first rules I learned (and have since horribly misremembered) is a string of numbers detailing the minimum meals, sleeps, and showers you require to survive a convention. My tips are going to be a little different from that thought simply because my focus is how to get the most out of a convention.

From the smallest convention to the largest, one consistent pattern is there will always be more to do, and usually more that I’m interested in doing, than I can manage, whether because of overload or because they are scheduled at the same time. You could spend the whole convention running from one event to another, exhaust yourself, make yourself susceptible to con crud more than most, and walk away having gained nothing. Trust me, I did this my first two conventions once I started going regularly, and it almost made me quit trying. I’m going to offer some suggestions and outlooks to prevent that from happening.

The first question you need to ask yourself is why you’re coming to the convention. Is it to meet your favorite author? Promote your latest book? Hang out with like-minded individuals? Learn something interesting?

Whatever that reason, you need to keep it in mind as you plan each day, or you’ll end up annoyed with yourself or disappointed.

The second question is: what is your comfort zone? Are you the person who marches up to an editor, agent, author, etc. and asks to chat? Or are you more comfortable hanging around in the background and listening? Do you prefer one-on-one or group settings?

Believe it or not, those two questions are all you really need to have a great convention. But now, you need to look at the ways you can put your answers into effect.

If you’re the gregarious type who has no difficulty catching the attention of whomever you’re interesting in meeting and making it happen, bring enough money and schedule the time to spend at the hotel bar or gathering place. Make sure you’re there as soon as the signup sheets are posted for koffee klatches and literary beers. Whether you drink either doesn’t matter (and sometimes isn’t even an issue as the drinks aren’t always provided. It’s an opportunity to interact with the people you want to meet.
If you’re not, don’t give up hope. Conventions offer many opportunities for the less outgoing of us.

Volunteering is a great way to meet people, both the guests and those responsible for the convention. People will come to you with questions, you can end up having wonderful discussions if you volunteer in a lower-key role like at the convention suite or con suite (a place for all members to gather and relax with food and drink provided (though a donation is often appreciated)) or even while standing door guard to do badge checks. The green room is another good volunteer spot if you want to see the guests in their “natural” environment, and offers low pressure opportunities to listen in on discussions and often join in as well. You can also volunteer your hours on setup and takedown, which gives you a place in the convention, allows you to meet the staff and guests, but does not limit your schedule as far as any presentations, panels, or performances you want to see (I didn’t name them, they just came that way).

The con suite is also good for those times when you need to relax, when going to one more panel will blow your mind. And you never know. A world building session might break out. I’ve been in the con suite when an author did an impromptu reading (okay, at my urging), when we discussed the psychology of extra-Earth habitats, a puzzle session broke out, and many other relaxing discussions and activities over drinks and snacks in smaller sessions. I am now a guest at most of the conventions I go to because I enjoy discussing topics and usually have something worthwhile to contribute on writing, culture, and a variety of stray subjects. However, that does not prevent me from spending time in the con suite, and I’ve seen other guests there too. Sometimes the Green Room (limited to guests) is relaxing and has more consistent food so the guests don’t pass out between panels (it’s also where guests meet before the panel to get their approach in place), but you’re just as likely to find the guests at the bar, the local eatery, or lounging in, of all places, the hotel lounge.

Which brings me to another point. Most of the conventions have a space for everyone to sit down and relax for a while. Whether in the con suite, green room, or elsewhere, ask to join a table that is already occupied. Be polite, and accept a “this is a private conversation” with grace, but often you’ll be invited to sit down and join in, which is a good way to meet new friends and learn new things.

And then there are the parties. Don’t assume because you don’t like to drink, or don’t feel comfortable doing so among strangers, that the parties are not for you. Most are just gatherings of those same like-minded people you came to meet with snacks and drinks, often non-alcoholic. Make an effort to drop by the book release parties. Depending on how well attended they are, you might have the chance for a good conversation with an author, or just to listen in on some interesting conversations. It shows support, and you never know. I met Gail Carriger at World Fantasy in the lounge area. She gave me an announcement to her party, and in going (she’s wonderful in person so how could I not), I discovered a series that has delighted me, and pretty much everyone I’ve recommended it to.

The World Con I attended in Reno, and I hope to see more adopt the practice, did early morning walks with the guests. It gives you a chance to step outside the hotel or convention hall and offers the opportunity for one-on-one conversations with some fascinating people even if you might never have gotten up the nerve otherwise. Some people use this time to grill the guests, but I just enjoy their company. I’m one of those who is uncomfortable approaching someone with the intent of starting a conversation. During the walk, I found myself next to several people whose careers I’ve followed for a long while, and I wasn’t about to ignore them either. And a side conversation with Sheila Williams gave me a story idea to play with so it can be fun on many levels.

This went on longer than I intended, and I haven’t even touched on the biggest thing people think of when they go to a con…the scheduling. Here’s my thing. I take the schedule and mark what I’m interested in. The only mandatory pieces are the panels I’m assigned to. Everything else is nothing more than an expression of interest.

As long as you are polite and quiet about it, rarely is there a social penalty for quietly slipping out if the panel didn’t go as you’d expected, or for slipping in late. This is not as true for readings or more close-quarters events, especially ones with a signup sheet however. Don’t sign up if you won’t be there. The only other thing I suggest is turn off that cell phone. Even on vibrate, it’s loud enough to interfere with the enjoyment of others.

And if a friend invites you to tag along, a group gets together for food, or you’re starting to feel worn out, don’t go to the panels you’ve marked. Seriously, you could go to absolutely everything and get nothing out of the convention because your brain explodes. Listen to your body. It’s better to crash for a nap and miss a few things than start snoring in the middle of a reading from your favorite author.

That should be enough to get you started at least. The key is to enjoy the convention. Whatever you miss is of less importance than you coming away from the experience invigorated and inspired to greater things.