Seanan McGuire (seanan_mcguire) wrote,
Seanan McGuire
seanan_mcguire

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Fun is sometimes a four-letter word.

People ask me "well, did you have fun?" a lot. After conventions, after signings, after anything that would have involved me appearing in a professional capacity. I generally smile and say I had a very nice time, but that's not always enough. Some people want to know, for sure and for certain, that I had fun. That I am riding my giddy inner parade float off to Candy Mountain, land of sweet sugary joyness, and not counting the minutes until I can take off my shoes and stop trying to interact with humans.

This is difficult for me.

Here is what I do for fun at a convention: I cruise the dealer's room, sometimes for hours, looking at things I have no intention of buying, spending too much money at the same time. I go back to my hotel room and eat M&Ms while watching cartoons on whatever kid-oriented channel the hotel includes as part of its cable package. Sometimes, when I have a few hours of downtime, I attend a concert or get someone to drive me to the nearest Target, where I buy cranberry juice and Diet Dr Pepper and more M&Ms.

Here is what I do not do for fun: everything else.

I love being a guest at conventions. It's one of my natural environments. I grew up at cons, I'm good at cons, I always have a nice time. I always have a good time. Even at the con where I had an allergic reaction so severe that I spent literally three hours in my hotel room huddled around the toilet bowl and crying, I had a good time. But I don't have much fun. Fun is not the reason I am there. Like the girls on reality shows who aren't there to make friends, I am not there to enjoy myself: I'm there to work.

When I am a guest at a con, I am there to help you have fun. I'm there to listen and speak and sign and sometimes give hugs. I'm there to hand out ribbons and admire tattoos and do whatever is asked of me, because I'm working. I am at work. My job is awesome and enjoyable and I am so, so lucky to have it; sometimes I can't believe how lucky I am to have it. I wouldn't change it for anything. But every time I do something I consider "fun" (latest example: chasing lizards around the rocks at Disneyland), I am reminded that no, I am not at conventions to have fun. And that's a good thing.

I am making more fun for you.
Tags: contemplation, conventions
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  • 72 comments
At a couple of the cons I go to, I spend a large chunk of the con running room parties, plus roadying for my friends' bands. Depending on how available other people are to share those duties, there are some years that I don't get the chance to have much fun. But I am happy nonetheless, because I know that my work was essential to other peoples' fun.

I'm in disagreement right now with some of the co-hosts of one of those room parties, because I have an idea for a change to make something less stressful/chaotic and more efficient. But some people think my idea will make things "less fun" for them when they're volunteering. It hasn't been "fun" for me for a long time, but I'd like to make it less stressful, since the party needs all the volunteers it can get.

In any case, I hope you can find little bits of fun at most of your conventions. It's always better when there can be little bits of fun.

I am kind of curious about what keeps you coming back to conventions you're a regular at. I always assumed you did that because you enjoyed those conventions, and that might be true to some degree, but you seem to have a pretty businesslike attitude about it, so there's probably more to it than that. I've seen some former guests of honor return repeatedly to a con and say they do it because the con is so much fun. I guess different people have different outlooks on things, and different ideas of fun.
It's...difficult.

There are really only two conventions that I could be said to be a "regular" at, when not a guest: San Diego Comic-Con, and Conflikt, in Seattle. SDCC is its own beast. I have a lot of fun there. I'm also a small fish in a huge pond, and I'm very rarely asked to be Professional Seanan when I'm not either on a panel or immediately in the wake of one. People don't recognize me. They don't notice me. It is the convention version of Disney World.

Conflikt has become increasingly difficult in recent years, because people do notice me. I'll be trying to hang out with my friends or read my book, and then there will be someone who wants a book signed, or wants my full attention even though they never wanted it before I became "famous." And I can't be rude. I am in public; there's no setting that lets me say "I am busy being a person, not a performer, please come back later." I wind up judged on tiny points of behavior. I've been sleeping in filk circles since I was fifteen. People used to go "aw, Seanan gets tired early." Now it's "fuck her, bitch slept through my song."

It's tiring. And it's why I don't really do cons as an attendee anymore.
That's sad. On the one hand, it might be cool to have the level of career success that you have such "celebrity problems", on the other hand, it sucks that so many people can't treat celebrities as people with their own needs, especially at times when they're obviously not in career-mode at the moment. They expect you to have fun, but can actively interfere with your ability to do so.

I've enjoyed your guest of honor appearances at a couple of conventions, and I would have found it really cool if you'd shown up and hung out in the filk circles, just as another person and musician. I would be sad if I wanted you to hear a song and you slept through it, but I wouldn't be angry. And I'm sadder to hear that you like filk circles but find it difficult to enjoy them anymore.