In Mid-October, we tabled at Can-Con, Ottawa's Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror Convention at the Brook Street Hotel in Kanata with fab co-pilot AJ Dolman and fab Christian Baines, writer of urban queer paranormal novels, down from Toronto. Attending, tabling and sometimes paneling this con has been our little tradition for several years. We compare notes afterwards ovet supper, perhaps commiserating over a drink. Or four, depending on how things went.
I was selling my novel Town & Train and collection Fear Itself. Or, rather, trying to. Read on.On the upside, we had some great chats. Looking atchoo', Christopher Shorewick, K. M. Greyburn, Derek Newman-Stille, Dwayne MacKinnon, of the Out Of The Basement Podcast, and the other James by our booth. Our table also talked to other writers and vendors and attended some interesting panels. Heck, I even chatted with a friendly spectacled attendee with the elfin ears at the giveaway table. She read an entire chapbook by Renaissance author R. Haven instead of taking it because it was the last copy.
However, on the downside, book sales hit a record low, perhaps because of the con's move to Kanata, in Ottawa's far-flung west end. Also, a noticeable absence was staple Can-Con shutterbug James Coughlan, a professional who volunteers his time each fall.
As someone who pens hotror, fantasy, sci fi, lit, poetry and book reviews, I find that the SFF set doesn't quite know how to handle talking with me beyond the niceties of attending a conference or quite what panels to invite me on, save the usual horror-themed and writers''group-themed ones.
My usual trusty tactic, to redeem myself of the oil-and-water mix vibe of the con, is to pitch a particular publisher a project idea. Three times in a row (and two years running), I have successfully pitched projects. Not so, this time out. The publisher I usually talk to canceled its pitch sessions without explanation, save for a note on the sign-up sheet. I tried to sign up at the last minute with another publisher. However, the list was full. Although I added my name to the sign-up sheet in case of a cancellation, nobody cancelled.
So, with my mood thus affected, the abysmal sales didn't help. The lack of takers crushed the morale at the table, and our spirits. The lengthy daily commute was often over 30 minutes in bumper-to-bumper traffic on the 417.
If the con returns to downtown, as has been the case for over a decade, we might reconsider attending. For now, though, our trio made the tough call afterwards. We will not be returning next fall. The cost of the booth, registering for the con (about $90 each for the weekend; panelists must, in fact, register), as well as gas and food expenses, all mean that attending this con, at least for us, has cons that far outweigh the pros.
