GenreCon

Some Process Notes on the GenreCon Program

PETERMBALL Works in Progress , ,

We’re aiming to get the full GenreCon program out by the end of the month, which means the first few weeks of August are dominated by putting panels together and then pulling them apart and putting new things in their place. It’s the most exciting part of the gig in many ways, which means it takes very little to flip the switch and transform that excitement into anxiety. I have spent the last week taking changes in my plans very poorly and being more irritable than normal.

Part of it is because I made a mistake. We were aiming for major program announcements in the middle of August, which is a perfectly sensible date based upon the timeline for print production, but does mean we’re going to spend two weeks trying to confirm speakers when a sizable portion are in Helsinki for Worldcon or hitting Brisbane for the annual Romance Writers of Australia conference.

The vast majority of people will respond fast despite being on the road, but there is always the sizable portion who prove to be slow to respond to email at the best of times. By the time we hit the end of August and the last few stragglers are being prodded, I will be huddled under a desk sticking pins into dolls and cursing their names in all the ways I can think of.

Of course, I am currently ignoring emails as I type this, so it’s not like I don’t understand how tings get to this situation.

That said, the program is in a pretty good shape. I’ve got the basic brief and copy for 14 of the 16 discussion programs locked down so we can start confirming participants, but the final two aren’t coming together. The gist of the idea is there, but I’m trying to figure out how to make the idea clear enough that people understand it and sexy enough that they want to go see the topic.

My basic rule of thumb for a topic is always: what action can a writer take away from this panel and apply to their writing/career with immediate benefits?” If I cannot see that action yet, the topic isn’t quite right and needs to be re-thought.

 

PSA: How to Contact Peter About GenreCon

PETERMBALL Madcap Adventures and Distracting Hijinx ,

I spent today back in the QWC offices, annoying friends on Twitter by vague-tweeting about the behind-the-scenes GenreCon stuff that was coming together. I also spent today fielding a bunch of queries about the conference…some via official channels, and some via Facebook, personal email, and in-person queries.

So, futile as it may be, I am going to strap on my grumpy pants and put this out there as a reminder: if you have queries about this year’s GenreCon, your best bet is emailing the shared GenreCon email address used by the whole ninja team (who are doing a lot more of the work this year) or my work email if you’re wanting to talk to me specifically.

I’ll admit the lines between writing-Peter and GenreCon-Peter are frequently blurred, but they do exist. GenreCon is a gig I do that requires a lot of putting aside me and working to advance the careers of other writers, so I rarely rationally and calmly when people ask me to keep doing that via communication streams that are basically used to manage my writing career.

The times when I’m happy to respond to queries via my personal email or, worse, via Facebook messenger basically come down to:

  • When the person asking the question is a really good friend. I know that seems kinda ambiguous, so here’s your rule of thumb: Have I drunk coffee at your house? Have you drunk coffee at mine?  If the answer to either of these is no, you probably don’t know me well enough to ask about work stuff on non-work time without pissing me off a little.
  • When the questions are about running a con in general, rather than this con in particular. I am totally fine with people contacting me to ask questions about how I program conferences. Because those questions are about me, not the job or what you are hoping to get out of the con, and I am egocentric enough to like talking about me and find it a valuable use of my non-work hours.
  • When you are an agent/editor/publisher with whom I have (or want) a professional relationship. ‘Cause, yo, I ain’t stupid. I spend far more of my life writing than I spend running a conference, even if it’s GenreCon that gets the most attention throughout the year. Also, because anyone in this category usually has a pretty good instinct about crossing professional boundaries from their own experiences with writers.
  • When you are a current or former invited guest of GenreCon. ‘Cause, honestly, if you’ve been an invited guest of the conference you’ve worked your ass off to make me look good as an organiser, and you deserve to inconvenience me as much as you goddamn like. And if you’re a current guest, I’m largely counting on you making me look good come November, and the same logic applies.

Everyone else, honestly, use the email addresses linked to above instead of social media messaging or my personal email. You are more likely to get an answer, and I am less likely to dream of punting you into a vat of boiling magma and unleashing a swarm of ill-tempered bass with fricken’ laser beams on your ass.

And I will repeat my message from 2015: Facebook messenger is a damn stupid way to engage in any kind of professional correspondence. Particularly this year, where my social media time is minimal, at best, and shit is just going to be flat-out missed.

And for those who have read this far looking for updates or news about GenreCon…well, things will start moving pretty rapidly from this point on. Today was spent locking down budget, making final decisions, and writing the first few bits of marketing copy, so news should start hitting the internet over the next ten days.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go spend a few hours playing Batman: Arkham City.

10 Days to Genrecon, and I’d Like to Ask a Favour…

PETERMBALL Conspicuous Acts of Cultural Consumption

GenreCon2015BannerAT SOME POINT IN THE NEXT TEN DAYS, I’M GOING TO LEAVE THE IRON ON

I know this is happening ’cause we’re on the official countdown until GenreCon is a thing, and experience says I will leave the iron on at some point. I have run five previous cons in my life, and I’m currently five for five when it comes to leaving scalding hot household appliances running for long periods of time.

Twice now, it’s been for a period of four or more days. Twice now, I’ve had to go out and drop fifty bucks on an iron in the weeks after the convention.

This is a thing that happens, is what I’m saying. In the days leading up to a convention, I am…distracted. Doing things. Organising flights and hotel rooms for guests. Talking to the caterers. Putting together program briefings. Staring at the budget spreadsheet, looking at the magical number.

And, since you’ve read this far, I want to talk about the magical number.

THE REALITIES OF RUNNING A CONFERENCE IN THE NON-PROFIT SECTOR

I’ll be blunt: GenreCon is not a sure thing. It’s a cool thing – a very, very cool thing indeed – and the feedback from writers across the board seems to suggest that it’s also a very useful things, but neither of these things ensures there will be another one. This is the nature of being run by a non-profit.

The thing that ensures that there will be another GenreCon is the magic number – the point where we have enough attendees generating enough income to not only offset the cost of running the conference, but to justify GenreCon’s existence to QWC’s board of directors who are in the tricky position of being, essentially, the folks who volunteer their time and the folks who are ultimately responsible for the organisations finances in the eyes of the law.

Generally speaking, about half of these folks change every year. To keep a thing like GenreCon running, you need to be able to point out the merits of running it to a new crew of people – some of whom may not care for genre at all – every 24 to 36 months.

That’s what the Magic Number represents: the point where I can give the registration details, budget, and other elements to my boss, and she can go to the board and say look, for real, supporting this is a no-brainer. We absolutely have to do it again. 

THE FAVOUR I ASK OF YOU

This year’s conference hasn’t hit the magic number. The response has been good – we can probably make a case for running the con again in 2017 and the board will get behind it – but it’s not a given. It’s not a no-brainer.

The registrations for this years conference close on October 25, so we can get the catering finalised, which means there’s just five days to hit the magic number if it’s going to happen. So, here’s my request: if you’ve been to a GenreCon, and you’ve enjoyed it, write a blog post about why you’re coming back for this year’s conference (or wishing you could come back), and direct people to the GenreCon Registration page.

Or grab a peep who really should be coming, and isn’t, and point them at the program.

Basically, tell folks who might be interested what they’re missing out on. I say this fully cognizant of the fact that we’ve been blessed with extraordinary word-of-mouth leading in to this years conference (thank you all, for that), and that the $295 price tag is a lot to drop on a last-minute purchase, but even an extra handful of registrations that we wouldn’t have gotten otherwise will make a difference.

And it needs to be other people saying, this thing, this is worth it, ’cause I’m the guy who puts it all together. My authority on this matter comes tainted by the knowledge that there is a self-interested aspect to my speaking about the con (also, by the fact that I rarely actually see anything about the program, spending most of the conference running around like a headless chicken, trying to trouble-shoot things).

You, on the other hand, the people who have gone to the conference before and laid down cash, you are dripping with the authority to recommend it as a worthwhile expenditure for up-and-coming writers. That we’ve gotten this far, three times now, is testament to how well that works.

If you’re inclined to do me a solid, I’d appreciate it. Because, on the off chance this is the year I leave an iron on and things actually catch fire, I’d like to make sure all the distraction and burn-repairs and purchasing of a replacement iron is worth it.