A round, flying-saucer-shaped building on a bright sunny day, flanked with palm trees.This year’s Worldcon, LAcon V in Los Angeles (well, Anaheim), felt small. And it wasn’t just comparing to older cons like Chicon 7 (2012) and LAcon IV (2006). I don’t know how much of it was that we only went on Sunday (the last Sunday in August), and how much of it was that the section of the convention center they booked was just way too big for the number of attendees, but I gather from what I’ve heard that it was in fact comparatively small for a Worldcon. (It’s also been suggested that some people who ordinarily would have traveled internationally to attend figured it might not be worth the risk.) I don’t know how anyone managed to catch Covid there.

At least the lines for the food trucks were short.

A world-weary woman in jeans, leather jacket, and bloodstained tank top with a stab hole through it, standing next to a cat-shaped creature (prop, not real) made of dried vines, leaves and thorns with a pair of glowing yellow eyes.I mentioned in the post about Katie’s October Daye cosplay that this was our first con since 2019. It was also our first general sci-fi/fantasy con in ages. More bookish, skewing older than comic cons, less cosplay. (There was more cosplay at the Undertale concert we went to on Friday the same weekend. A lot more.) Katie went to several panels on writing and worldbuilding, and I made sure to catch the Murderbot book-to-TV panel.

A sculpture of mirrors and LED strip lights, in the form of a hypercube tesseract, reflecting itself on and on forever.The teenager made a beeline for the video game room, only to discover that it was one person promoting his own games (which at least were interesting), a handful of old game consoles, and another person keeping track of a library of cartridges you could check out. It was cool to try out the old consoles, but the novelty wore off pretty quickly since the sparse attendence meant there wasn’t anyone to play the games with except when I joined him there. The other cool thing he found was an electronics workshop with circuit boards shaped like (among other things) caffeine and theobromine (chocolate) molecules, with LEDs and soldering stations where you could attach the LEDs yourself.

Looking down at the atrium of a hotel lobby. Ringed lights rise above a bar in the center, surrounded by cushy seating areas. A couple of balconies are visible along the inner walls and a staircase or escalator climbs diagonally across the far side.The con was split between the Hilton (which has been there forever) and the newest section of the convention center, next to the classic flying-saucer arena. (I think it was under construction the last time we were here for WonderCon.) Stylisticaly it looks like the expansion built in the 2000s: A curved full-height lobby with floor-to-ceiling windows, a lower level for general space, and an upper level. The difference is that the upper level is also big enough for general space, with portable walls to create breakout conference rooms. This meant even the hallways were gigantic, contributing to the feeling that, as Katie put it, the people were rattling around in a space too big for them.

6-foot-high scaffolding for a marble run.I had a few other panels that I was sort of interested in, but decided to prioritize going through the entire art show and making at least a single pass through the dealer’s room. I don’t regret that decision, because it meant I got to take my time really looking at the art. I didn’t buy much – a handful of books by guests and Hugo nominees, some stickers, a tote bag. They were out of T-shirts in most sizes, so I didn’t get the one they were selling onsite. (I bought the other design online afterward.)

Katie met up with one of her friends, and a family friend I hadn’t seen in years turned out to be helping run registration. Otherwise we didn’t run into anyone we know this time.

The only book I brought for autographs was Good Omens (the Ineffable Graphic Novel), because I hadn’t make time to look through the guest list. Instead, I hastily tossed stuff in my backpack the morning of the con while Katie splashed fake blood on herself for her costume. I remembered Colleen Doran was there, and figured anyone else doing signings I could probably buy something at the con. Most of Sunday’s signings were authors or artists I didn’t know, but I did manage to find Doran’s booth toward the end of the afternoon!

Photo Gallery on Flickr

A round building in the foreground, and a wavy-looking glass building in the background, with palm frons reaching down from the top of the frame.

Last weekend we went to WorldCon / LAcon V for a day. It was our first convention since 2019 (for, you know, reasons), and Katie finally got to build a rose goblin and cosplay as October Daye, something she’s been planning to for years. (Basically since we were gifted the jacket.)

Spike is described in the books as a cross between a rose bush and a cat. Three craft store grape-vine wreaths, soaked for reshaping, give it structure. Bougainvillea vines are woven through it to add thorns, though she ended up trimming them so it wouldn’t be hazardous if someone grabbed it, or if someone else’s costume brushed up against it. (We both managed to stab ourselves on the thorns while she was making it.) She cut a bunch of artificial leaves to look like rose leaves, and sewed them onto the vines.

For the eyes, a pair of LEDs are hooked up to a battery (the switch hidden under leaves) and placed inside mini ping-pong balls, held in place inside the head by wire.

Originally she was planning to put it on a skateboard and pull it along behind her, holding it on using magnets and washers, but the magnets turned out not to be strong enough. So the day before the con, she scrapped the skateboard and built a handle into Spike’s back so she could carry it around. It turned out to be better anyway, since the skateboard wouldn’t have gone on an escalator!

Eventbrite has worked well for buying tickets to events I’ve attended…

But over the last few months I keep getting spam for events that are not only not remotely interesting, they aren’t anywhere NEAR me. Sorry, but I’m not hopping on a plane for a pub crawl on the other side of the continent or a 2-hour “gong bath experience” on the other side of the planet.

At first I thought they were bogus. But everything pointed to Eventbrite’s servers. I’ve been blocking the campaigns in Eventbrite as I get them, but at this point my account settings show 10 organizations I’ve blocked, even though I’ve theoretically unsubscribed from “all Eventbrite newsletters and updates for attendees.”

Of course searching online is useless, because (1) everything’s about how organizers can keep their messages from landing in spam folders, and (2) searching online in 2023 is more or less useless anyway. It’s the end result of years of SEO trying to get into the first page (now with generative AI to flood the zone with even more bullshit!) combined with Google and Bing giving up on trying to give relevant results when what they really care about is ad impressions — and no, DuckDuckGo results aren’t much better.

I haven’t bought tickets to an event that uses Eventbrite since 2019 (for obvious reasons). I’m thinking at this point I should just cancel my account [Update: I did], and the next time I want to go somewhere that uses them for tickets, I can open a new one. With a different address.

Of the two Omicron-variant cases found in the US so far, one of them is a breakthrough case in a patient who hadn’t traveled internationally, but had just been to an anime convention in New York.

With 53,000 people.

That only required attendees to have gotten their first dose of the vaccine.

And struggled with crowding.

Chances are pretty good he’s not the only one who caught it there. A long time spent in a poorly-ventilated indoor crowd is this virus’ ideal environment.

One of the commenters on that article points out that New York Comic Con happened in early October, but had strict mask enforcement and required full vaccination courses for adults or a negative test for kids. I haven’t heard about any outbreak linked to NYCC and it’s been almost 2 months, so either they got lucky or they did something right there.

But one thing’s for sure: If an outbreak is tied to Anime NYC, it needs to be called Omi-Con.

Surprising no-one, WonderCon will be online-only again this year. Last year’s event was canceled just as we all started to realize that Covid-19 was spreading in California. And while the winter surge in cases is finally slowing down, the coronavirus is still more prevalent out there now than it was last March.

They’re still hoping to do San Diego in July, but even with multiple vaccines, there are still too many variables (vaccine distribution, mutation speed, mask and distancing practice, etc.) to know whether it’ll be possible to hold a convention by then. I guess we’ll see.

Well, other people will see. Much as I miss going to comic cons, SDCC feels unsafely crowded in normal years. Even in the best-case scenario, my anxiety would go through the roof.

Besides, I’ve already read The Last Stand of the California Browncoats.

No Fair(e)

Anyway, the local Renaissance Faire canceled this season again, too. On one hand, it’s all outdoors, which helps a lot — and you know the Faire folk would be serious about safety — but on the other hand, it’s still a big gathering, and April isn’t that far off.

I could maaaaybe see doing a smaller convention in fall, if things improve by then. Long Beach Comic-Con’s and LA Comic Con still show their September dates. For now. (I was worried about LBCC for a bit since their website was offline when I checked a few days ago, but it’s back now.) But again, way too many variables in the war between public health and the virus to predict whether it’ll even be possible for them to hold it. Though I’m pretty sure LBCC will be more responsible than LA Comic-Con.

Of course, even if someone can hold a convention safely by then…would it actually be fun? Or would it be a day of white-knuckled agoraphobia as we plunge into a crowd after a year and a half of semi-isolation?

Maybe we’re probably better off not trying to hit a convention until next spring anyway. We’ll need time first to re-acclimate to being around people!

Earlier this week we were talking about cosplay ideas for when we can finally go back to comic conventions. Literally the next day, I read that LA Comic-Con is planning an in-person convention in December.

OH HELL NO!

I don’t care that they’re limiting attendance, requiring masks and distancing, and keeping it at the cavernous LA Convention Center. Knowing what we know now, December is going to be way too soon.

As much as we’ve learned about how this coronavirus spreads and attacks, and ways to mitigate both, the pandemic is not under control now. It’s not likely to be under control by December. Even if we were doing everything perfectly — and we aren’t, there are too many people in the US especially who think medical advice is for other people — there’d probably still be another wave this fall and winter.

“But what about a vaccine?” Heh. Sure. OK, a vaccine. Even if a Covid vaccine has passed through all the rushed trials by then, and actually works, it still takes time to ramp up production and distribution, and for actual doses to take effect, which means the general population is still going to be vulnerable in December, and this is a perfect super-spreader event. Assuming they don’t need to use the convention center as a field hospital again.

It’s kind of a Hail Mary anyway, since there’s no provision in the state’s reopening plan to re-allow that size of event even in the least-restricted tier based on case rates. They’re basically planning it in hopes that the rules will change by the time December rolls around.

But they’re selling tickets already. Without knowing whether they can hold the event. Which really rubs me the wrong way.

Honestly I’m not surprised that of the various LA-area cons it’s them that wants to jump the gun. They’ve always struck me as kinda snake-oily. The way they kept acting like other cons in the area didn’t exist. (What, Long Beach Comic Con? Please, they’re in Long Beach, not L.A.!) Paying Stan Lee to let them use his name back when it was Comikaze Expo. The worst was the reality show they had on SyFy back in 2013, which was at least a few years ago.

But selling tickets for a convention for winter during a pandemic when there’s no provision for actually holding a convention within public health recommendations? That might be a new low.

Update Oct. 14: The event is officially re-cancelled for the year, with some of the guests already scheduled for 2021. Tickets can optionally be refunded or saved for next year. The more I think about it, the more I think they were hoping to get at least some revenue in this year, even if it ends up being just a super-early pre-sale for next fall.

WonderCon has been our main fan convention for the past decade or so. We’ve been every year since it moved to Anaheim in 2012, and several years back when it was in San Francisco.

But this year it’s not happening.

By February we were already looking at what was going on with the new coronavirus and starting to think, do we really want to go somewhere with huge crowds and lots of travelers? This could easily turn into ground zero.

By early March it became clear that a convention in April wasn’t going to be ground zero — because the virus was already here and spreading. An outbreak would be pretty much guaranteed.

So we weren’t surprised when they officially canceled the event on March 12. California had only started ramping up restrictions on gatherings, but WonderCon is a lot bigger than 250 people (the cutoff at the time, which sounds like a huge crowd now after weeks of “safer at home”). They refunded the tickets, which I hear some conventions had problems with.

This weekend was going to be one of chaos, crowds, comics, cosplay, and crafts. Instead we’re sitting at home, like last weekend, and the weekend before, and the weekend before. Sure, there’s the online “WonderCon@Home”, but it’s more something to check in on once in a while, not an all-encompassing event.

Summer’s still up in the air. If they’ve made a decision about Comic-Con International, they haven’t announced it. On one hand, it would be a huge blow to fan culture for them to cancel San Diego. On the other…I’m not sure who’s going to want to be there. Even if the current wave of the pandemic subsides before then, and even if it fades during summer (which is just wishful thinking at this point), cramming 100,000 people into a convention center for five days (plus setup/tear-down) seems like asking for trouble. [Update: A few days later, they cancelled SDCC too.]

I haven’t even tried to get tickets to SDCC in five years. I suspect they may be easier to get next year. (Or not. People are good at forgetting risks, as long as they’re abstract enough.) But I’m not sure I’m even going to want to attend a smaller con until we come out the other side of the pandemic.

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