FantasyCon 2026.
Having done FantasyCon in Glasgow some years ago, I can attest that it's not a journey for the faint-hearted. Once the locale for this years 'con was confirmed, a number of the genre community said upfront they wouldn't be going, for various reasons. One of the reasons was the location, and the logistics in trying to get to it.
For me, that means a six-hour train journey. While a flight is faster, it also means a degree of hassle not only checking in and checking out, but also having to check baggage in and out, along with doing passport security and such. Anyhow. I decided I was going by train and booked the necessary.
What I like about journeys to conventions by train is that they give me a chance to just relax in my seat and watch the scenery scroll past; which I find relaxing. However, the presence of other people in the carriage, like those that talk loud or won't just sit down and chill out is not relaxing - but I enjoy the small wins where I can. Having gotten up at the ass crack of dawn to make it to Euston in time, and therefore Glasgow Central in good time, and therefore the convention centre in good time, I was struck by how cold it was. I'd asked David Green, the newly-sworn-in BFS chair how the weather was. 'Rainy,' says he.
To be fair, I should've have asked for more detail, but I assumed it'd be cold - since it's up north - so I brought a heavy jumper or two. Only when I was in Glasgow walking up to the Crowne Plaza convention hotel did I realise how cold it was. I saw Colleen Anderson heading the other way, and she confirmed how cold it was. She should know - she's Canadian.
I managed to get checked in with time to spare, which let me catch up with the likes of Ben Unsworth, Raven Dane, RJ Ren, Trevor Kennedy, Marleen, Babs, Rob Malan, etc. Time was against me since I had a reading to do on the Friday evening. And since I had a launch slot for the hardback of my collection Where The Roaches Are on the Saturday afternoon which was shared with two other authors, Colleen included, I figured I'd get the reading out the way.
The reading in question was myself, Frazer and Catherine Cavendish. I don't get to see Frazer very often, but the guy is always articulate and chilled, so it's a joy to catch up with him. Plus, he knows London, so it's a bonus. A little more schmoozing done, then out for food with Phantasmagoria Magazine editor Trevor Kennedy and friend Con Connolly, illustrator RJ Ren, and Ben Unsworth. Found a great Turkish place called Ayaz with all the rice, lamb kofta and sucuk (herbed and spicy sausage) that I could handle. Then hot-stepping back to the hotel through the cold to catch up to Ben Unsworth (who left earlier to get to his panel) on slashers. Then, more schmoozing and shop talk in the bar before deciding to call it a night.
Saturday was a busier day, with a panel, a launch, and then another panel. Despite freezing my ass off in the main room at 10 a.m., the panel went well. As for the launch, I'll admit that I wasn't sure how well it would work to have three authors doing a launch slot in the same hour and I concede that my idea of us each 'getting' 20 minutes wasn't the best one, in hindsight. We all went with Angela Cleland's idea that we each do a reading and then we all do the signing, which worked quite well. My plan was to do just the raffle for the prize giveaway and then the signing, but given how many people turned up - and bear in mind the signing was held in the main room/banquet room - I told the crowd I'd be doing a disservice by not doing a reading. So I did just that. On to the signing, where I not only signed and publisher Trevor Kennedy took payment but illustrator RJ Ren also put roach sketches in the book. Having already downed fish and chips in the hotel bar - a massive portion, at that, it was soon time to eat again. Rounded up the likes of Ben Jones, Raven Dane, Ben Langley, Colleen Anderson and Andrew Freudenberg for time at Ayaz. Damn, those people know how to feed you. With this in mind, I made sure I ordered enough food that I could eat again before I went to bed, and swung by a bespoke bakery on the way back for a millionaire shortbread.
Once back at the hotel, it was time for the BFS Awards ceremony. I'd been looking forward to seeing fellow author Ezeiyoke Chukwononso there, but he couldn't make it. That didn't stop him clinching an award for non-fiction, which he accepted by proxy since he was out in the U.S. The banquet room was more than just toasty, no doubt helped in part by all the lit candles following the awards banquet earlier. I've never had a compulsion to do the banquet and I can only see myself doing it if I were up for an award; so I'd do the whole pomp-and-ceremony thing. After the award ceremony, more time in the bar (no surprise there), shop-talking and chilling with peers.
Sunday saw me up early to not only check out of my room in good time but to also get Colleen's box of books back to her. Given that she was staying in a B&B across the bridge, lugging the books back and forth wasn't really feasible. I had time to hit a couple of panels that morning before another fish and chips and then more lounging. This is where I finally had a decent catch up with Rob Malan, talking everything from respect and disrespect, to prologues, and the whole Planet of the Apes movie mythos. Come 15:15, it was time to get back to Glasgow Central. And while the train was on time, leaving at 16:38, delays on the line meant I didn't get back to London Euston until 1 a.m. I called an Uber and then got back to the house an hour later. And then got some sleep an hour later.
Ask anyone who's done a convention or two and this it what they'll tell you; connecting with your community is what hits the sweet spot. It doesn't matter whether you're talking about books, TV, film, music, writing or whatever - it's connecting with those people. Whether it was talking game with Rob Malan, London with Frazer Lee, sleep and rest with Jim McLeod (yes, he finally turned up) and Joanna Corrance, or talking output with Ben Jones - and I finally got to meet Anthony Watson as well. For the longest time, I just knew him as a faceless someone that loved my novella But Worse Will Come. I finally got to hear G.V. Anderson do a reading as well. I know her reputation precedes her as someone who's got game, but to hear her read? Not only does she have a voice for radio, but she had the flare that I associate with the likes of Tracy Fahey, Jasper Bark, John Llewelyn Probert and such.
For the record, as reaffirming as conventions may be, I have no shame in saying I can never wait to get home. Still, they play their part and I wouldn't have it any other way.
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