If you’re the kind of person who thrives on social energy, loves meeting new people, and has no problem navigating big crowds, this is not for you. But if you’re a cynical, pessimistic cheapskate with social anxiety who loves to complain like me, this article should give you some insights into what to expect and a few survival tips should you choose to attend StokerCon in the future. I’m writing this post in a state of exhaustion, so please forgive the clunkiness. Here we go…

The Hotel

I don’t know if this will be the case next year in Stamford, CT, but this year in San Diego, the venue quickly sold out of hotel rooms. I booked a room down the road, which didn’t seem like a big deal at the time, but as an introvert, it turned out to be a big mistake. Don’t get me wrong. The hotel where I stayed was probably nicer than the hotel where the event took place, but what it meant for me was not being able to disappear to my room for a few minutes for much needed decompression.

The trolly to the other hotel came every twenty minutes or so which was great (except at night when it was sketch as fuck), but it was an hour round trip and I didn’t want to miss anything so I ended up staying at the convention center. If you’re like me and need to escape from time to time, I’d book a hotel room at the venue as soon as you decide you’re going. I know that’s what I’m going to do. By the end of this year’s convention, my brain was completely fried.

The Drinks

My social anxiety issues were also compounded by the fact that the drinks at the hotel bar were stoopid-expensive. I navigate social situations fairly well—at least I think I do—but I do quite a bit better with a few cocktails in me. Being a cheapskate, I was conflicted the whole time. Do I continue feeling anxious and afraid to talk to people, or do I spend 23 dollars for a whiskey on the rocks? Next year, I’ll definitely budget more money for drinks so I don’t run into this problem. I’m sure this is venue dependent, but hotel bars are usually expensive.

The Food

Again, this is dependent on the venue, but I thought the food situation was great. Half a mile away, there was a strip mall with several surprisingly delicious options. The big issue for me was struggling to find a window to go and eat. Luckily, I’m a stay-at-home dad and came well-equipped with a suitcase half full of snacks. This turned out to be hugely beneficial for both me and my group. Not because there weren’t good food options, just that going to get food often meant missing out on a panel I wanted to attend. Regardless of the venue next year, I’m sure this will hold true.

The Classes

Okay, so now let’s talk about some of the programming. I took two classes during the convention and thought they were both solid. Write Your Trauma with Mercedes Yardley and Cosmic Horror with James Chambers. I loved the cosmic horror class and was emotionally crushed by the trauma class (it was good, just difficult to deal with, especially when you emerge to a ton of people having a great time).

I also didn’t realize when I was signing up for the classes that they were each two hours long. I booked the classes back-to-back, so on one of the days of the Con, I was sitting in classes for four hours straight. I don’t think this was the best way to spend my time as there were quite a few readings and panels I wanted to attend that I missed out on. Next year, I will only sign up for a max of one class a day.

The Readings

The readings were the best part of the convention for me. I loved listening to many of my favorite authors read their work out loud. I also discovered a few different authors this way by listening to their work and enjoying what they read. My favorite readings at the convention were by Clay Chapman and Jonathan Gensler. If you get a chance to see either of them read, do yourself a favor and check them out.

The Panels

The panels were a mixed bag. I went to some great panels, and I went to some lousy panels. In my opinion, the lousy ones were never the fault of the panelists, but rather the fault of the moderator. The good panels were fantastic, and I learned a lot, but it was kind of a crap shoot what you were going to get. I don’t really have any tips on how to choose which panels to attend though. If you have suggestions, I’d love to hear them.

But to the moderators: Take some time to think about how panelists will answer your questions and make sure these answers are something that will be beneficial to those that attend. We don’t need to start every panel with “Why write horror?” We are at a horror writers convention for fuck’s sake.

The People

The best part about StokerCon was hanging out with my friends from an online writer’s group we formed almost three years ago. This was the first time we met in real life, and it was amazing to finally meet them in person. I already miss them and hope the rest of my writer’s group can also attend next year.

I also met several people I had taken online classes with over the last couple of years, several people who were just all-around cool individuals, and a ton of my favorite horror writers. This part of the con was awesome. In my opinion, it’s the number one reason to go.

That said, a few people left a bad taste in my mouth. On more than one occasion, someone walked away mid-sentence when they realized I wasn’t a big name. One editor, in particular, I will never submit to again due to their behavior. But, I think this is the case no matter where you are.

My tip for this one is a human tip rather than a convention tip; treat people with respect regardless of who they are because you will never know who they will become. Or, you know, just treat people with respect, because if you don’t, you’re a fucking asshole.

Conclusion

In the end, despite the pricey cocktails and a few rude encounters, I had a blast. It’s been less than 24 hours since I wrote this (edited it later), and I’m already planning for next year. If you can swing it, I highly recommend giving StokerCon a shot. And to Marissa Yarrow, John Gensler, Keith Rosson, Clay McLeod Chapman, and Chuck Tingle, thanks for making me feel like part of the community. I wish you all the best and hope to see you again next year!

 

Cheers,

C.J.