Bristol is one of those places that’s always drawn me back – friends there, and events, and FP. A slightly more hip Norwich, a slightly less smug Brighton, it’s a city that has a geek magnetism all of its own.
And nowhere is this magnetism stronger than at BristolCon.
This year, the Con seemed to be all readings and beer – thank you to those who braved the Big Hill and came up to the Megastore to the Ecko Rising signing, and to those who loitered after the Women in Sensible Armour panel for the hit’n'run five-minuter that was fluffing for Guest of Honour Gareth Powell. The panel itself was half-fun and half-serious – thank you to Philip Reeve for elegant and flawless moderation, and to fellow panelists Jonathan L Howard, Jo Hall and Foz Meadows and for getting a serious message across with a laugh.
Back in the dealers’ room, a big cheer for FP’s Dez who was a star at the trading table, and for Terry Martin and his uke (who knew?) Was good to meet Ben Galley in the flesh (nice stall, Ben) as well as to foist copies of Ecko onto some old friends (Ken and Nick, always unchanged) and some newer ones (Marc and Cheryl, be gentle with me!)
It was also a weekend of artwork – another painting by Jennie Gyllblad, featuring a lemur no less!, and I was fortunate enough to be given a piece of art by Tom and Nimue Brown – both of which are now in my front room and looking very fine indeed.
Finally, the event can’t pass without a mention of Colin Harvey, Ghost of Honour – someone I only really knew in passing, but well enough to spend my last hour at the Con listening to readings from his work, and to the voices of those who knew him far better than I did. It was a touching thing – and carried across the very strong sense of community that BristolCon is all about. You can find the Colinthology here.
So well done to Jo and her crew – may it get bigger and better with every passing year!
(And yes, David. I did have a hangover. Curse you and your pub-crawling!)
If you’re at a loose end in Bristol, this weekend, 
FRIDAY
Nine years of signings. Spreadsheets and phone calls and emails; readings and Sharpies and biscuits and beer. Times when the books department has been so full we couldn’t move and we’ve all sweated our arses off – times we’ve watched the tumbleweeds and tried to make a joke out of the whole thing.
The double-vision is wonderfully bizarre, still hard to wrap my brain round this morning. It’s not only the personal ‘surreal’ of seeing such an old story finally in the light, or actually sitting at that table with a pen in my hand, it’s the whole process, the book from manuscript to publicity – and understanding, from an author’s point of view, how Forbidden Planet’s events fit into that structure. It’s been quite an eye-opener (and I had no idea that reading was so fucking terrifying)!
But thank you to everyone who’s been so incredibly supportive – those who were there in person, those who sent love and best wishes via every media channel known. It’s been a long journey, and being able to share it is the best, and perhaps the most surreal, feeling of all.
Pontin’s. In Wales. In February. Eight (yes, eight) trains and eight-and-a-half hours from Sutton – by the time I rolled in, a G&T was necessary and the travel chaos was having a similar ‘blitz spirit’ effect to the chalets at Camber.
Thanks go to all of the publishers and guests who signed for us, to Suzanne and the girls for letting me nab chalet space (and bacon), to Gollancz for letting us nab taxi space, and to Alasdair Stuart for extremely well-timed coffee runs (did I mention we were busy?)
Through all of the event though, there was a common theme of conversation. Namely – the face and content of the ‘SF con’ is changing. Angry Robot’s Lee Harris drew the difference between the ‘fan convention’ – the cons that we know and love, the ones at which we see the same faces, the same friends – and the ‘commercial convention’. The SFX Weekender was the latter, it was more like Kapow! than it was like EasterCon – it’s a con that’s opened out to new ideas and new demographics, to more people and younger people, to new blood and enthusiasm. China Miéville said the ‘Geek Pound’ is still strong – and he’s right.
We like it. The Con has come of Age.
Point before opening: filming Adam reading from Empire State has apparently done for my little Lumix camera. Dagnabbit, there was going to be video footage and everything.
And Adam (I must stop thinking of him as @ghostfinder, damn you Twitter!) is the New Face in more ways than one. This is not only a new book – this is a new World. The Empire State really is a parallel dimension – in the World-Builder project, everyone can play. It hearkens back to the gaming of my youth; those bright-eyed and idealistic role-playing sessions where there was no GM and everyone could share in the creativity, man. This time, though, I suspect a stronger structure *g*.
Thank you to Lee and AR for their support, and for bringing both Adam and the Empire State to us… and to everyone who came and broke that bottle of champagne over the author’s head.
Outside, we had fans queuing for hours in the cold – clutching dedicated pieces of Who memorabilia they’d treasured for years. We all know the return of Who has spanned the generations, bringing families together on a Saturday evening – my son is seven and no-one feels this more than I do. But to see it really brought to life is quite something. From the girl from the US with the TARDIS earrings and the painted jacket, to the Dad with FOUR eager cubs out there with him… truly, the Doctor spans space and time.
Inside, everything was gleefully organised chaos. Steven Moffat chatted to his gobsmacked fans, Mark Gatiss had a thing about peg dolls, Ben Cook offered very fine scarlet hair and Tom MacRae offered equally fine studded scarlet boots – the writers of Who are a garrulous and colourful bunch. The atmosphere they brought with them was voluble and festive.
Chatty or not, they’re efficient – flawlessly herded by Clayton Hickman and Garry Russell, the whole crew really linked with their fans and put in a sterling evening’s work.
At the end of yesterday evening, a great many people went home laden with presents and smiles. They’d had a moment, and they’d snagged something cool for Christmas Day.
The Sharpie has dulled.
At a public event, being able to ‘virtually’ sign an eBook is a very cool thing – I’ve seen the looks on readers’ faces when William Gibson (who else?) does exactly that. It’s little piece of techno-future, a thrill of new.
For the moment, BookieJar is still growing – but if the idea expands beyond self-pub, or if this technology could be used through Twitter, or Facebook, or G+, or even through author’s own sites…