Outside the Fishbowl

Friday, November 20^th marked the opening day of Orycon, a science fiction and fantasy convention that we had been planning on attending since we moved to Portland in July. The brisk November morning, got off to a rough start though. The westbound MAX lines were sluggish so we ended up walking the last third of the way, and we learned that a family member had passed away earlier that morning. I was also trying to trouble shoot a printer issue by phone for the company I work for part-time, so by the time we got to the Orycon check in desk, on the lower floor of the Portland Waterfront Marriott, we were both in a very odd headspace. After taking a walk through the dealers room and touring the conference center, we retreated to a nearby restaurant for lunch and to regroup.

While we waited for our food to arrive, we plotted out what we wanted to do over the course of the three-day con.  Going hour by hour we weighed and measured the merits of each seminar that caught our attention so we could spend our time efficiently; a complex task when there could be up to a dozen different seminars, workshops, and classes on every floor of the conference space at any given time.

“Are you guys with the convention?” 

The man sitting next to us is perched on the edge of his chair trying to get a look at the colorful program books and fliers we received at the check in desk. Bo and I had managed to hammer out a schedule for Friday and part of Saturday and clearly this man was completely fascinated by our conversation.

“I’ve been watching all the costumed people everywhere. Is it like Comicon?”

“A little,” I said, “I think this is more focused on writers though. They have a ton of writers here and a bunch of classes on writing.” 

“I love to read. I’m almost finished with the last Game of Thrones book.”

“Oh really, what do you think?”

“He’s too long winded. I think I might put it down. Can you recommend anything?”

“Of course!”

 Over, the next several minutes Bo and I peppered the man with titles, author names, genres, and short story collections. The Martian, The Iron Druid series, 2312, the Dresden Files, Cherie Priest’s Clockwork Century series, rattled off our tongues and onto a notepad the man pulled out to collect our outpouring of suggestions. While he wrote he would spit out quick questions about content and themes, and the two of us would shake out a one or two sentence run down before free-associating to another title.

The more we rapped about what he liked and what we suggested, the more excited he got. Likewise, his excitement buoyed our spirits and helped carry us into the next several sessions and panels that we attended. His questions, at least for me, helped clarify why I was here; to connect with a fandom and craft that I hold dear to my heart. It’s so easy to get caught in the fishbowl of a convention, that we often forget that people look in, sometimes in wonder others in curiosity, at the passion we have for the fandoms we inhabit. Sometimes it’s nice to get out and share that with others. The man, this stranger, was genuinely thankful for the raft of titles that we shared, but I am not sure if he knew how important he was to us.

Happy Thanksgiving!