And a quick reminiscence about making a dumb mistake as a newbie author…
I wasn’t planning on going to RavenCon. In fact, I wasn’t planning on going to any conventions except ConCarolinas and DragonCon, and even those were iffy and contingent on being accepted as a guest or panelist. (Got accepted to both, but had work conflicts ConCarolinas, boo…)
But when you get a chance to take a train ride down and spend the weekend with good friends and talk horror with fellow literary nerds, you don’t hesitate! (Well, maybe you do, but then if one of those friends accidentally booked two hotel rooms and can offer you to take over one in the sold-out host hotel, that MAY be the clue that nudges you down to Richmond, VA.)
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Anyway, I had a great time at RavenCon. It’s a Con that celebrates all things Edgar Allan Poe, whose museum is located in Richmond, by the way, and one of these days I’m going to get a chance to go to it. I’ve attended the Con twice before, and then moving around the country meant that this year was the first time I had the chance to go back.
There were some wonderful panels – I moderated two and lent some wisdom (yes, I said that with a straight face, I’m too old and snarky for imposter syndrome) to two others. I sat behind the table at the Falstaff Books shop in the vendor hall, and got to spend two nights hanging out with my publisher, John Hartness, and his sister, whom I absolutely adore! I got a chance to catch up with some fellow writers (Hey Bishop! Hey Mike! Hey Tiffany!) and meet new friends, who I actually need to send a quick email to so we can stay connected. Note to self.
During one stretch in the vendor hall, I told John the story of how I made an ass out of myself the second time I went to RavenCon. And since this is a blog to share my life and also possibly share my learning experiences with my fellow writers, I shall relate it here.
So, no shit, there I was, the lone female veteran on a panel of other veterans, moderating the topic of “What’s Next in Sci-Fi?” or something along those lines. We had one gentleman who worked as a military liaison to Baen, one gentleman who had published some stuff and who had exactly one answer to every question I asked (it was Sci-Fi Mechs, in case you’re wondering), and another dude who was an author and retired officer and approached every question by answering what he wanted to talk about instead of the question I asked.
Now, being in the military for 20 years gives one a bit of perspective. I have run up against these archetypes before, and I’m sure I’ll run up against them again—people who don’t listen and either don’t realize how condescending they are or are doing it on purpose. (Some folks I’ll give the benefit of the doubt, but even though I’m used to things like being asked why I walked up and sat at the panelists’ table for a panel on veterans writing X genre, it’s still stupid to have to deal with.) But at the end of the day, we are all going our separate ways, and I thought to myself, Sheesh, that’s the last time I volunteer to moderate the mil-SF panel.
And then, because I’m a dumbass, instead of keeping the thought in my head where it belonged, laughing and then forgetting about it, I decided to post it on Facebook.
The first inkling I got that my social media was doing something unusual was when my friend Bishop walked up with a very concerned look on his face and asked if I was okay. Keep in mind, this is one 6-foot-plus writer inquiring of another 6-foot-tall writer, so at first I just stared at him kind of blankly. I quickly realized that he was concerned that I had had to deal with something at the Con that was less than pleasant.
After assuring him that I was fine (and I was, except for the quickly dropping pit in my stomach from the suspicion that I’d done something dumb), I went and checked social media.
Yeah.
There were a BUNCH of posts. And they were not laughing with me. Instead, there was a bunch of commiseration, anger on my behalf, sympathy, and in general a way larger reaction than I had expected from a post that I had meant to be funny.
This was the first time that I, who at this point still considered myself a newbie writer and newcomer to the writing community, realized that my reach within the community went farther than I thought. In fact, the Con organizers asked to talk to me, just to make sure that I hadn’t been harassed by other Con-goers and they wanted to know more about what it was that had happened on the panel.
I shared with them my honest feelings about the panel, and why it had been so frustrating. I mentioned some possible remedies, and I felt heard. They then asked if I would please share our interaction and the resolution with my social media, and so I went back and edited the original post to include my apology to the Conrunners, as well as the fact that I was grateful they had reached out and had asked me about my experience.
When I post on social media these days, I am very careful. Even if something funny occurs to me, and I want to share that funny thought with people, I’m going to take a second to see if it passes the sniff test. I felt so bad that people might have mistaken or mistook my post for an actual complaint—and I felt so bad that people worried about me from that post—that while I’m still going to be authentic online, I’m always aware that my words travel farther than I might imagine.
Anyway, that was all a really long story to say that RavenCon is a fantastic convention, they are so wonderful for inviting me back and giving me a chance to participate in their new horror track, and I hope that at some point in my life my travels will bring me back to where I am only a short train ride away from spending the weekend celebrating Edgar Allan Poe and the horror writing community.

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