World FantasyCon 2025

Selfie while settling into the British Fantasy Awards 2025 ceremony. l-r: Kayleigh Dobbs, Teika Bellamy, Steve Toase, and me.

This is (at least at the time of writing), my last convention this year. Which brings the yearly total (at least, at this time of writing) up to seven.

Let that sink in.

Without getting too deep into the specifics of 'game' (read: how I do what I do), there's the actual job of writing, editing said writing, getting said writing published, blah, blah, blah. Hitting the conventions is part of the whole hustle, since it pays to be seen. Anyhow.

Any time I head off to a convention, there's always a degree of last-minute hustle, despite the fact that I would have known about the convention how many days/weeks/months beforehand. One thing in particular is for a PDQ terminal to make selling books at conventions that much faster and easier. As yet, I've still not had a chance to take the new terminal out of the box it was delivered in - and that was delivered before the convention. That being said, most of what I needed - the essentials such as clean underwear, toothbrush, etc. etc. etc. - all of those things were packed. As was a big suitcase full of books. And while I'm a seasoned lifter, it's no joke literally carrying a suitcase full of books. Yes, I know suitcases have wheels on them (and I can remember a time when they didn't), but not everywhere on the journey is step free.

Still, it wasn't all bad. While the convention hotel was charging an arm and leg to stay there, I'd opted to room with a handful of genre peers: Dave Watkins, Kit Power and Phil Sloman at an apartment a few minutes walk away: all chilled and laidback. Having gotten to Brighton from Blackfriars in a couple of hours, it was then a near-half-hour walk to the convention hotel. Which is where I start to see the usual suspects like Paul Kane and Marie O'Regan, Marleen and Babs, along with some from across the water: Lance and Barbara Cottrell, Lee Murray also. Cue the usual meet and greet, along with shoptalk and shenanigans; the usual suspects. Luckily, it wasn't long before David Watkins showed up and, since he was trusted with the keys to our apartment, then we could check in.

Which involved me having to haul my big-ass suitcase full of books up a couple of flights of stairs. That said, the apartment was pretty spacious, what with a lounge and kitchen - it was like dorming with the boys on a school field trip. Despite initial reservations, I have to say this alone was cool - hell, all of those guys are cool. And despite Phil Sloman's claims of once having the best legs in horror, when I'm freshly showered while sporting boxers and socks, he's not going head to head with me for a pose-down. Not when it's evidently clear that my routine of heavy squats works in my favour. The rest of the first day was spent pretty much lounging and catching up with people as they started to arrive at the hotel.

That was the Thursday.

Conventions and shenanigans go together like bacon and eggs. l-r: Andrew Freudenberg (with the gorgeous and elusive half-chicken), Ben Langley, me, Dave Watkins, and Dave Jeffery.

My dance card wasn't too full, with 'only' one scheduled event per day. Friday saw me on the mass author signing session. I forget the numbers, but I believe it was somewhere around two hundred authors hawking their wares - myself included. This was the comedic part of the late afternoon: hailing back tot he apartment to hail that big-ass suitcase full of books down that narrow and rickety staircase. As far as conventions are concerned, I maintain that selling anything is always good - even if it's only one book. I sold and signed a number of them.

Prep for Friday night's mass author signing - the better part of two hundred authors assemble.

Saturday was my reading panel with Carol Gyzander and Sarah Ida Silkyfish. Both of these women are notable for me: Carol because, for all the times our paths have crossed at StokerCon, now we finally got a chance to speak and Sarah because, like with so many individuals, she's a connect on social media ...and then you finally get to speak in person and put a face to the name. Sunday was the Horror in the UK panel, with Kayleigh Dobbs, Ramsey Campbell and Paul Finch. After which, there was time to get lunch in the hotel bar and then haul off to the train station. My train wasn't scheduled to leave until about 6pm but, at that point, I really didn't want to hang around - so I bought an additional ticket that got me back into London at around 4pm.

Horror in the U.K. panel. l-r: me, Kayleigh Dobbs, Paul Finch, Ramsey Campbell and Vince Docherty.

Of course, much of FantasyCon is the social element, so whether it's time with the usual suspects like Dave Watkins, Kit Power, et al. or time with new connects like Mel Atkinson, it's always a joy. And, of course, there may be one or two faces that you've seen in a while that have resurfaced: GV Anderson and Dion Winton-Polak in particular. The latter being a soft-spoken smuthound (and I'm pretty sure he'll be the first to admit this) who's got a keen eye for sharpening a story, hence his M.O. as an editor. Foodie I am, this is where I indulge Colleen Anderson and vice versa: if I'm going to dinner with anyone, it's probably her. That woman is mischief personified but an absolute sweetheart. Plus, she's got a similar outlook on work ethic.

I found out similar with one Grace Woods on the last day: just tucking into lunch on the Sunday before heading back to the train station: this novelist also has a similar work ethic of being proactive and relentless, and is also based in London. What's not to like? And these are some of the things that make any genre gathering - whether it's a big convention or small get-together - such a positive; you never know who you'll meet and what experience they'll bring to the table.

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