Post GenCon Report

This past weekend I returned to GenCon for the first time in 10 years or more. For the uninitiated, it is the grand festival of table top gaming, much like San Diego Comicon is for comics. Unlike SDCC, it still holds tight to its roots and is chock full of people playing games at all hours of the day and night. If it has dice or cards, it is likely going to be played by someone over that weekend.

As this is my first time back in at least a decade, I thought it best to memorialize the event while it is fresh in my mind. This year was really something special for me in several personal ways. I had such a wonderful time with old friends and got the opportunity to make new ones that I don’t want to forget it.

Don’t worry, there will be more monsters later this week. I promise!

Old Friends and New

I think it is important to start with here, with talking about my old friends I got to reconnect with this weekend. If you have never worked an exhibit booth at GenCon, particularly an indie one, think of the time you spend doing so as something akin to being on a sports team. You are under pressure, taxed physically, but loving what you are doing.

You build lifelong friendships in a matter of days this way. It really is something.

Those friends in question are Luke, Thor, and Jared. We met at my first GenCon as an exhibitor during the Forge Booth days where I sold my first game, Conspiracy of Shadows. This was 20 years ago, and I was a young, frustrated artist, who lacked confidence in themself. I just happened to be lucky enough to join that community at that time and build a friendship over time with the guys.

I’m not that kid anymore, and they aren’t young either, but spending time with them is in some way like time crawling to a stop. I haven’t seen them often over the last decade, but when we do, after shaking the cruft off, we pick up where we left off in the past. We are older, probably wiser, and I think better versions of our past selves (thank you therapy), but that bond hasn’t disappeared.

I won’t bore you with a play-by-play of our weekend, but I do want to highlight one aspect of the weekend that perhaps encapsulates why I cherish our time together. Throughout the weekend we spend almost every waking moment with each other and as this is a gaming convention, we spend a lot of time talking about games. Shocker, I know.

Jared and I worked on the design for a LARP that we want to collaborate on. Thor and I talked about some things we want to collaborate on for his Torchbearer RPG. Luke, Sam, and I talked, perhaps ad nauseam, about the negative impacts commercialized actual play videos have on the market outside 5th Edition. Those were fruitful and fun conversations, but the moments I cherish are where we talked about other things.

We talked about the olympics. We talked about old friends we don’t get to see anymore. We talked about trans rights, a topic very important to me. We talked about what the nature of restorative justice really requires of us. About politics. About the environment. About everything important to us and we did it with charity and empathy for one another.

And through that all I got to make new friends like Sam, Rachel, Eric, Stephen, and more. The circle is big and generous to one another. It is generous to people outside the circle and welcoming. It loves food and laughter, games and a good story. It really is the best part of this past week for me.

When a Sale Is Not a Sale

Ok. Story time.

When I was about 15 or so, I went to Chicago Comicon with my own art at hand for the first time. I had read in Wizard magazine, I think, that some artists got their start in comics by showing their work at comic conventions. I was terrified and insecure and by myself walking through the artists alley.

I saw lots of heroes that day. Artists that I admired, but all were surrounded by admirers, and I was scared to death to talk to them. Then I found Tim Bradstreet’s booth, and honestly, my life changed.

For those that don’t know who Tim Bradstreet is, he, as much as anyone, defined the mood and style of several different properties over the years. His work for Vampire the Masquerade is how I picture modern vampires. His covers for Hellblazer and Punisher are genre defining. He is an amazing talent that has had a huge influence on my own style, which is obvious for anyone to see.

But way back then, he was just the White Wolf guy as far as I knew, and as I was admiring his work, he stopped his conversation with a friend to say hello and ask how I was doing. When he coaxed out of me that I was holding a folio of my own artwork, he spent real time with me, offering useful advice and supportive words.

It might have been a 20 minute conversation or it might have been an hour. I really don’t know. All I know is that this 15 year old kid felt seen. Felt welcomed. It was life changing.

That moment, and the other moments like it in my life have stayed with me. I haven’t always been successful, but I try to make sure people are listened to and feel seen. This GenCon I got to do that for someone else, and it still has me on a high.

We had a busy moment where several conversations with potential customers dominated our space. I noticed a teenager hanging at the edge, looking at books, and trying to listen to the conversation. You could tell that they wanted to engage but were too nervous to do so. Their body language screamed “don’t see me” but they clearly wanted to be seen.

I sidestepped one of the adults and caught their eye and asked them if there was anything I could help them with. If they had any questions. They said they wanted to know about all the games in a soft voice I could barely pick up, but I leaned in, and made sure they knew that this conversation was the most important conversation I was going to have that day.

We talked about the games for a bit, they asked about price, then told me that they would be back later or tomorrow (it was hard to hear their quiet voice in the hall). I let them know that I would be there and ready to help them when they came back… and they did!

The next day they came with their dad. As a father whose teenagers can lean to the shy side at times, he and I had a moment. A wealth of information flowed in our eye contact and I proceeded to once again make sure this delightful, shy kid got the attention any one of us deserve. They walked away with Torchbearer, a big smile on their face, and their dad thanked me.

It may seem small, and I know my words don’t do it justice, but those moments are the moments I cherish at GenCon. The chance to connect with some people I have never met before and may never meet again. The opportunity to help a kid find something that might have a lasting positive impact on their life. That is the juice.

Last Words

Ok, this has gone on long enough. There was so much more that I got to do and people I got to see, but those were the highlights for me. I would be remiss though if I didn’t do a few shout outs for some products I ended up purchasing. I don’t buy much these days, but that makes the little I do special, I like to think.

• Into the Cess & Citadel by Alex Coggon and Charlie Ferguson-Avery is a “system neutral” book where the city you are in is trying to eat you. It is some beautiful graphic design coupled with some interesting game ideas, so I had to get it.
• The Theft of Sunlight and A Darkness at the Door by Intisar Khanani are two novels I got for my avid reader, though I am going to read them myself too. Young adult fantasy fiction exploring child trafficking. I couldn’t pass it up.
• Wooden handmade clocks, 4 of them, from AllTru2U. I got a Camp Halfblood, Castlevania, Lord of the Rings, and Hello Kitty clocks for the four kids in my life. They are beautiful things to see.
• More Torchbearer stuff for my kids to use in play of course. Plus I have some exciting things cooking of my own for the game that I will be talking about soon.

Thank you for indulging me in my heartfelt report on my GenCon experience. If you have never been, I hope you get a chance to some day. If you do, you will find me at the Burning Wheel booth. I rarely stray far from my friends.