PROS & CONS
Apologies for a bit of a late update, given it's been a week and a half since I got back, but I recently attended my first ever convention - Bristolcon 2026! After such a monumental and enjoyable occasion, I thought I'd do a bit of a debrief on what was ultimately a very successful (and very wet!) weekend spent on the banks of the Avon.
Bristolcon, perhaps surprisingly, is a fantasy and sci-fi convention held in the city of Bristol, and on the Friday night I made good use of the very recently created direct trainline from Oxford to travel to the vegan capital of the world (according to Google). Storm Austen raged - presumably attempting to punish me for my misguided hatred of her work when forced to study it aged sixteen - and I feared the journey would be difficult, perhaps even impossible. However, though trains were being cancelled left and right at Oxford Station, the travel and weather gods (and perhaps a forgiving Ms Austen) spared me any delays.
This was even more of a relief than it otherwise might have been, as I was finding it enough of a challenge lugging around a floral suitcase full of dozens of hardback copies of my book (how else are you meant to carry about your grimdark tomes??) without adding rail replacements, delays and cancellations into the ordeal. I have on several occasions and for oh-so-many different reasons over the past few years regretted my decision to write such a long book, yet never have I so utterly scorned my own ambition and naivety as I hauled roughly 30 kilos and several million words worth of my own writing through the streets and stations of Oxford and Bristol. I had gone into Bristolcon wanting to sell a few signed copies, of course, but the motivation to shift as many books as possible is made much keener when one realises that he return journey is made significantly less arduous with every sale.
Thankfully, a friendly face greeted me at the end of the line, as Tom - one of my oldest friends, and already in The Worth of Scars' acknowledgements - charitably offered to pick me up from Bristol Temple Meads and let me sleep on his sofa. On the off chance they read this, thanks Tom & Soph for having me/us, and I hope we didn't impose on your weekend too much!
The next day, the weather was even more abhorrent. Storm Austen had given way to Storm Boelo, and even though, as far as I'm aware, I haven't ever insulted Mr Boelo's writing - whoever he may be - someone in Bristol or at Bristolcon must have, as he cast a very damp shadow over the entire weekend. Tom once again very kindly gave me a lift to the Doubletree Hilton in Redcliffe to avoid the rain, and my first ever convention experience began.
My wife Liv joined me at this point, having also avoided any delays to her own less-encumbered train journey early on the Saturday morning. We got our passes, put on our lanyards, looked through our goodie-bags, and set up our table in the dealers room.
And there we sat for most of the morning, watching convention attendants trickle in (appropriate, as some were quite soaked and, as we'll come on to, the weather ensured it was a quiet affair) and chatting to those on our neighbouring tables. Big shout out to Carlie (author C.M. Kuhtz - go check out their work!) for immediately coming over to welcome us and put us at ease. Thanks Carlie, you were a huge help. Not just then, but the entire weekend!
A few hours in, and I was wondering if I'd made a huge mistake. It had been a slow morning, and even those that had come into the dealers' room had shown little interest in my (admittedly quite bare and narrowly-focused) display. Then, finally, in what turned out to be a quite surreal encounter, we eventually got a sale. In a bizarre twist of fate, my first ever in-person sale was to an author who I now live around the corner from, and whose book I vividly remember reading as a (probably too young) child.
Mission accomplished. I hadn't had a specific goal in mind for the weekend (other than to attempt to lighten the load on the return journey), but after hours of awkwardly smiling at passersby who would glance at but rush on past my table in favour of the fluffy toys displayed on the neighbouring stall (which admittedly were very, very cute), I told myself that one sale would do. I was sated. Anything more would be a bonus. However, as Liv and I took turns to take our breaks, we gradually began to receive more interest, and, shockingly, even more sales. I suppose now is the time to thank my lovely wife for giving up her weekend to help me out, both as moral support and allowing me to nip to the toilet or get a cup of tea without having to shut up shop and fearing missing out on a sale. A few authors in the room were not so lucky, and as time wore on I only became more glad I'd bullied her into joining me (this is untrue, she selflessly volunteered). Though it did then lead to an odd phenomenon in which, for most of the weekend, we only ever sold a copy of the book when one of us was present, rarely both. Both of us have developed a few pop psychology theories as to why that might be, but will need a larger sample size to firm up our hypotheses.
One theory that doesn't need any further proof to back it up is that, when you're selling a large, heavy hardback, people don't want to carry it around with them all day. This lead to a flurry of sales in the closing hour or two, with several very kind people returning after having expressed interest previously. Both Liv and I were blown away with how we did, and we met some really cool and interesting people - I'm really grateful to anyone who committed to buy the book based on little more than the cover, the blurb and my word that it was worth it. I truly hope it was (though the good thing about a nice cover is that even if the book is shit, you get something nice to look at). What made it even more surprising was that we were reliably informed that turnout was very low, largely due to the high winds, torrential rain and the resulting cancelled trains we had somehow managed to avoid.
We hung around for a little while at the bar after that, savouring the day's success - me by watching Spurs batter Chelsea (it's so easy at the Bridge), Liv by falling asleep in her seat (it had been a long day) - then attended the late-night SPFBO panel, featuring free whisky and cake. Between that and discovering many people pronounce the competition 'Spiffbo' - I'd never heard the competition discussed in person before, and thus had no idea - that might have made the panel worth attending alone, but there were plenty of other bits of advice and pearls of wisdom that I will take into my entry with The Worth of Scars next year (lottery willing), and, probably more saliently, apply to future entries I haven't already written and released.
Saturday had gone incredibly well, but Sunday was the day that had been keeping me up at night over the previous weeks. I was giving a reading from The Worth of Scars first thing on Sunday morning, followed straight after by a panel that Bristolcon had very kindly invited me on. This was my first time ever reading my own work, then my first ever panel. Unsurprisingly, a reading by an unknown author in the first slot on a Sunday morning wasn't the most well-attended event at the convention, and the crowd was somewhat sparse. I took this as an opportunity to dip my toes in the water and use the reading as a stepping stone for more intimidating (and less hungover) crowds in future. Of the few that did attend, one decided to buy the book off the back of it, so I count that as an enormous success.
The panel went well, too. I was sat directly next a very well-known face in the indie fantasy space and someone I greatly admire in Rob Hayes, alongside David Green and the awesome aforementioned Carlie, debating the merits and potential pitfalls in cosy versus grimdark fantasy, moderated by Chrissey Harrison. All of the panel seemed to agree on most aspects - both subgenres are more vibes-based than a checklist of tropes; cosy's surge in popularity (and grimdark's relative decline) is a result of how bleak things feel in the 2020s; both subgenres have their flaws when taken to extremes; 'low-stakes' is either not a valid description or else should be deleted from the critical vocabulary. Unanimous opinion often makes for a dull and far too amiable discussion, but there were some wise words spoken amidst the agreement. I particularly enjoyed Carlie's definition of both subgenres - cosy being about building community and grimdark about destroying it - as well a discussion prompted by an audience member questioning our agreement over the cause of cosy's rise and grimdark's (supposed) fall, citing the dark nature of pre-Disneyfied folk and fairy tales, which of course were also being told amid bleak times. Personally, as I said at the time, I think Carlie's comments about the cosy subgenre's focus on building community and the deterioration of community for many people in the modern world offers an explanation for this, with cosy fantasy acting as an antidote to it or an escape from such lack of community, but it's an interesting wider discussion.
Returning to the dealers' room, we had a new neighbour in author Noor A Jahangir, who was selling his retelling of The Arabian Nights titled Arabian Dreams (complete with an incredible cover drawn by his daughter). Noor also has a podcast called Fantasy and Faith, focusing largely on the role religion plays in the fantasy genre, and which I may well be appearing on in the near future. Go check out his work, as well, and subscribe to the podcast!
After a flurry of morning sales gave us hope that we might smash our now-decided-upon daily target, things slowed down significantly on Sunday afternoon. Given the low turnout and the fact that most attendees had likely done dozens of circuits of the dealers' room by now, most of those in the room began packing up early, and, despite clinging on to hope for a late rush, soon bowed to the inevitable and joined the closing celebrations and ceremony.
Despite the apparent low footfall - damn you Boelo! - I'm extremely glad I attended Bristolcon. I had a good time, put the book in a few more hands, made some new friends, got to hang out with some old ones, and experienced my first taste of what life could be like as a fantasy author - something I'm only to keen to repeat. Travelling home with a significantly lighter suitcase and a renewed desire to continue being a part of such an amazing community, both Liv and I are keen to return, not just to Bristolcon but other conventions as well. Thanks to the Bristolcon organisers (particularly Katie, who was in charge of the dealers' room!) for looking after us and for making the whole thing happen; to fellow authors Carlie, Noor, Paul, Ben and Rob, among others, for being so welcoming and supportive; to Tom and Sophie, for giving us somewhere to shelter from the weather and chauffeuring me around Bristol; and to Liv, for being such a perfect assistant all weekend.
My appearances in the real world outside of your screens don't stop there, however! There are going to be a few copies of The Worth of Scars for sale at gaming convention SOXS Con in Abingdon this weekend. Then on Sunday 22nd November I will have another table at the Oxford Indie Book Fair at the university Exam School on the High Street. This is free to enter, and full of loads of really exciting indie and self-publiushed books and authors (not to mention me!) so if you're local, do come check it out and say hello.
Cheers!
Gabe
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