Badges, Panels, Questions
As I mentioned last week, Bubonicon (New Mexico’s SF convention) was held over the first weekend in August. I was a bit tired right after – not only was the convention a busy time, but we’d had to take one of our cats to the vet the night before the con started. (He’s okay.) This meant I started the weekend short of sleep.
Panelists
Despite that, it was a good convention. I had a great turnout for my reading, during which I debuted Artemis Invaded. No matter what anyone tells you, I did not intentionally end on a cliffhanger.
The panels I was on were fun and lively. Catching up with old friends is always fun and making new acquaintances who might turn into friends down the line is also fun.
It was one of these latter encounters that got me thinking about the interaction between authors and fans. One of this year’s Bubonicon first-timers was a newly-published author named Livia Blackburne. Since she’d volunteered to help out with the Afternoon Tea on Sunday, I’d seen her name, but I didn’t know much more than that she had a YA novel published very recently.
After my reading, I darted off so as not to miss the Opening Ceremonies. Imagine my surprise when a young woman I’d spoken with briefly out near Registration turned out to be Livia Blackburne. How could I have missed the connection? Why hadn’t I seen her name on her badge? Maybe she hadn’t registered then?
At the end of Opening Ceremonies, I glanced over at Ms. Blackburne. No badge. That seemed strange. Then I realized she had it pinned to the hem of her top, so that it rested somewhere above her knee. Impulsively – I can be impulsive – I darted over to her. Already a little embarrassed by my forwardness, I quickly explained that she should wear her badge where people could easily read it.
“Honestly, people really do want to know who you are!”
That had been a tough lesson for me to learn. Although it may be hard for people who’ve seen me at conventions or book signings to realize, I’m naturally shy. The first couple of times I went to a convention, wearing a badge seemed almost cheeky. Why would anyone care? Wasn’t it enough that people be able to see it on me somewhere as proof I’d registered?
Fact is, badges are incredibly useful – and not just for authors, but for fans as well. At conventions, you often encounter people you meet only once or twice a year. Badges provide a reminder of who is who. This really came home in 2013 when Bubonicon experimented with exchanging badges for wrist bands. The wrist bands provided proof of registration, but they didn’t provide names – and names are one of the best memory joggers. I’ve been at conventions where people not only write their names on the badges, but also the tag by which they’re commonly known on-line. Again, it’s a link.
There’s a lovely lady who attends Bubonicon’s Afternoon Tea every year. I know her only as “Turtle Bear.” But that doesn’t matter. It’s a name she answers to… When I see the name Turtle Bear and all the associations flow back: our chat about her grandbaby, the hat she wore last year, and all the rest. Without the badge and the name, it might take me a little longer to pull up the right mental files.
Don’t want to pin something to your shirt? That’s understandable. More and more conventions provide badge clips and/or lanyards. However, there’s a fun alternative. Bring your own! A few years ago, Jim and I picked up sparkly lanyards. Mine is varied shades of blue; his is black. A good quality lanyard can become an accent to your attire and also help eliminate the problem of your badge flipping over to show the wrong side. I noticed that by the second day of the convention, Ms. Blackburne had gotten a good quality lanyard and wore her badge without damaging her pretty tops.
Another place that authors and fans interact is through panel discussions. Since I’m in giving advice mode, I’m going to offer a little regarding this as well. If you’re on a panel, for goodness sake, prepare in advance! Most conventions give you at least a week or two of warning. Some conventions (Bubonicon among them) supply sample questions.
Think about the questions. Even better, think about interesting replies – something beyond the self-promotional “In my book I…” Reach for the roots of why you did this. It’s likely at least some of the audience knows what you did. However, until you tell them, they won’t know why.
If you’ve been tapped to moderate a panel, your role is slightly different. I’ve been on panels where the moderator apparently thinks that this means he or she is the star of the panel and should keep the microphone as tightly held in his or her hand as possible. In fact, the moderator should try to speak last, if at all. The moderator’s job is to facilitate discussion, not to hog it.
A moderator should prepare extra questions or consider a more interesting arrangement of those suggested. The moderator should try to keep the panel on topic. Many years ago, a long-time pro said wearily, “Every panel turns into the same panel.” I assure you, this is not the case when I moderate!
Moderators should familiarize themselves with their panelists before climbing up on stage. At the very least, read the bio in the program book. If you have time in advance of the convention, go on-line and take a quick look at the other panelists’ websites. This will enable you to ask questions that are more tailored to the various panelist’s works and interests. Instead of asking over and over again, “Have you ever…” you can ask, “In your book, Navel Gate you address the question of…”
Yes, it’s work, but that’s what you’re there for!
Another thing a moderator should do is keep track of who is doing all the talking. Some panelists are naturally garrulous. Others are shy or diffident. The audience will notice if you let some panelists ride roughshod over others – and it won’t reflect well on you at all. You don’t need to push the shy ones to talk, but a polite, “Mr. Seagull, let’s give you first shot on this question,” will give quieter panelists a chance when the material is fresh.
I spoke of panels as “interaction” between authors and fans. This comes in the question-and-answer phase. A moderator should always leave five to ten minutes for questions on any panel. Often you’ll see hands going up early in the panel. Acknowledge these with a nod or a quick “Hold onto that. We’re going to take questions in a bit.”
As for those of you in audience, burning up with what you’d like to say, remember – you’re not on the panel. If you have a question, write it down and save it for the end. If you have a statement you want to make, keep it short. If you have more than one question, ask only one, then give someone else a turn.
Finally, when the panel is over, don’t rush the platform hoping to continue the discussion. The panelists need to move out to let the next event start. Wait until the panelists have moved into the hallway before buttonholing someone. Be sure to check if this person has time to talk. He or she may have another commitment not listed in the program book.
Whew… I’ve gotten a bit carried away, so I’ll stop there… Thoughts? Questions?
