Worldcon: Glasgow 2024
Aug. 17th, 2024 08:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mtbcWorldcon, the large science fiction convention, returned to Glasgow with well over seven thousand attendees for this year's. From my flat, the venue is but a pleasant walk along the river, an exceptional enough event that it is worth the cost in fees and in time, over a weekend so only three days' leave from work.
With how busy everything else has been, I was straight into Worldcon without even having had chance to log into their online portal and review the offerings. I also hadn't had chance to review Hugo award nominees so as to be informed enough to vote. Fortunately, the first day started slowly, giving me time to become orientated. The conference staff were welcoming and helpful and, on seeing how much must have gone into the organization and management, I am grateful to the volunteers and glad not to have been among their number.
Being easily tired, and wanting to also spend time with R., I settled on a modest plan of attending five talks or panels per day, except for the last which ended a bit earlier; I made it to my planned twenty-three. The sessions were generally spaced with half an hour in between, which is generally enough except for lunch, which from the on-site vendors was not cheap; fortunately, I am in a position to bring my own food from home, and there is a station for refilling one's water vessel. I would have probably enjoyed connecting with more of the attendees who were also here alone but it's not easy to identify which, and who might welcome that, and there's also that same matter of wanting to get to talks and wanting to spend time at home too. I am also a Luddite who does not typically carry devices with me by which I access e-mail and Discord and such. A sign of the times is that many apparently lone attendees seemed to be engaged with their mobile devices while we waited for an event to start. Still, I got to chat to a couple of people now and again.
The rooms for talks and panels could fill up some time before the start and, among the many and divers offerings, typically I managed to arrange myself an itinerary which had me passing through the crowds in yet again moving from the far end of one building to a different building in the complex. As well as occupying much of the previously expanded exhibition centre, the convention extended into the adjacent hotel and the "armadillo" building which, from the corridors inside, is oddly enough shaped that one can imagine being within some strange vessel. With people also perhaps wanting to do things like visit the toilet or refill their water (typically a queue) in between talks, it helped to plan well, and it was a good thing that there is some reserved "accessible" seating which I hope also benefits those who can generally access things but still need longer to travel. Joining a fully attended session that included Charles Stross, then another including Martha Wells, made me wonder if the choice of panellists makes a significant difference to attendence, even comparably to the topic of discussion. I had noted where to be when but not why so my convention experience turned out to be a sequence of pleasant surprises tailored to my interests. People waiting outside a room would ask me if this was the queue for whatever and I would think, yes, that sounds like something I would have chosen.
An incidental comment from one panelist made me realize something. I had wondered at how I am already rather impressed and entertained by much older science fiction yet, in modern times, the typical story's word count has expanded greatly. I may be correct in suspecting that it was a panel I attended on the editing process that suggested an answer: the advent of word-processors. Later on, chatting with another attendee gave rise to the point that longer books cost the publishers little more than shorter books.
In between sessions, there are other attractions: for instance, I was glad to have taken time to survey the display of genre art, of which there was a fair amount. Unfortunately, photography was proscribed so I did not get to share any with R. Much of the art was reasonably priced, some was even affordable but, similarly, I could not share with others not present to ask if they would like me to buy it for them, and I didn't risk guessing.
There was considerable effort made to be inclusive, and indeed quite a diversity among the many attendees. This was rather uplifting: while the city's Pride, not that long ago, is mostly heartening, it is nicer still to see a safe space at an event that is not primarily about such. How people are in such personal regards, how they prefer to present, etc., is not of much practical relevance to me, I am content to gloss over the details and just be happy that they get to be themselves. Apart from being glad to be supporting a convention that makes such effort, the main difference it made to me as a fellow attendee was mostly just to watch out for people who may need a bit more space or other consideration. On later reflection, I was less uplifted in noting that I don't see as much diversity in everyday life, suggesting that there still aren't many spaces where people feel safe enough.
During Worldcon's closing ceremony, it occurred to me that the French could learn from it. I don't know what they were thinking for the Olympics but what the French planning committees for both the opening and the closing ceremonies may have thought of as dramatically telling some important story came across to me as being long and boring. Perhaps it was the same committee that thought that everybody might like to swim in the Seine but at least they didn't manage a repeat of Rio's green swimming pools. Anyhow, I had been growing to appreciate the ambience of Worldcon and was a little sad to see it end.
With how busy everything else has been, I was straight into Worldcon without even having had chance to log into their online portal and review the offerings. I also hadn't had chance to review Hugo award nominees so as to be informed enough to vote. Fortunately, the first day started slowly, giving me time to become orientated. The conference staff were welcoming and helpful and, on seeing how much must have gone into the organization and management, I am grateful to the volunteers and glad not to have been among their number.
Being easily tired, and wanting to also spend time with R., I settled on a modest plan of attending five talks or panels per day, except for the last which ended a bit earlier; I made it to my planned twenty-three. The sessions were generally spaced with half an hour in between, which is generally enough except for lunch, which from the on-site vendors was not cheap; fortunately, I am in a position to bring my own food from home, and there is a station for refilling one's water vessel. I would have probably enjoyed connecting with more of the attendees who were also here alone but it's not easy to identify which, and who might welcome that, and there's also that same matter of wanting to get to talks and wanting to spend time at home too. I am also a Luddite who does not typically carry devices with me by which I access e-mail and Discord and such. A sign of the times is that many apparently lone attendees seemed to be engaged with their mobile devices while we waited for an event to start. Still, I got to chat to a couple of people now and again.
The rooms for talks and panels could fill up some time before the start and, among the many and divers offerings, typically I managed to arrange myself an itinerary which had me passing through the crowds in yet again moving from the far end of one building to a different building in the complex. As well as occupying much of the previously expanded exhibition centre, the convention extended into the adjacent hotel and the "armadillo" building which, from the corridors inside, is oddly enough shaped that one can imagine being within some strange vessel. With people also perhaps wanting to do things like visit the toilet or refill their water (typically a queue) in between talks, it helped to plan well, and it was a good thing that there is some reserved "accessible" seating which I hope also benefits those who can generally access things but still need longer to travel. Joining a fully attended session that included Charles Stross, then another including Martha Wells, made me wonder if the choice of panellists makes a significant difference to attendence, even comparably to the topic of discussion. I had noted where to be when but not why so my convention experience turned out to be a sequence of pleasant surprises tailored to my interests. People waiting outside a room would ask me if this was the queue for whatever and I would think, yes, that sounds like something I would have chosen.
An incidental comment from one panelist made me realize something. I had wondered at how I am already rather impressed and entertained by much older science fiction yet, in modern times, the typical story's word count has expanded greatly. I may be correct in suspecting that it was a panel I attended on the editing process that suggested an answer: the advent of word-processors. Later on, chatting with another attendee gave rise to the point that longer books cost the publishers little more than shorter books.
In between sessions, there are other attractions: for instance, I was glad to have taken time to survey the display of genre art, of which there was a fair amount. Unfortunately, photography was proscribed so I did not get to share any with R. Much of the art was reasonably priced, some was even affordable but, similarly, I could not share with others not present to ask if they would like me to buy it for them, and I didn't risk guessing.
There was considerable effort made to be inclusive, and indeed quite a diversity among the many attendees. This was rather uplifting: while the city's Pride, not that long ago, is mostly heartening, it is nicer still to see a safe space at an event that is not primarily about such. How people are in such personal regards, how they prefer to present, etc., is not of much practical relevance to me, I am content to gloss over the details and just be happy that they get to be themselves. Apart from being glad to be supporting a convention that makes such effort, the main difference it made to me as a fellow attendee was mostly just to watch out for people who may need a bit more space or other consideration. On later reflection, I was less uplifted in noting that I don't see as much diversity in everyday life, suggesting that there still aren't many spaces where people feel safe enough.
During Worldcon's closing ceremony, it occurred to me that the French could learn from it. I don't know what they were thinking for the Olympics but what the French planning committees for both the opening and the closing ceremonies may have thought of as dramatically telling some important story came across to me as being long and boring. Perhaps it was the same committee that thought that everybody might like to swim in the Seine but at least they didn't manage a repeat of Rio's green swimming pools. Anyhow, I had been growing to appreciate the ambience of Worldcon and was a little sad to see it end.
