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One of the things that struck me about the dealer’s hall at GenCon this year was how much it seems to have evolved over the years from a place where the emphasis is on publishers selling their wares direct to consumers into a strange flea market of, yes, some games, but also a very wide variety of general geek-interest products. Keep in mind that this is a general sense I got; I’ve done no research, quantitative or otherwise.

One factor that I think gives me that sense is that the publisher-representing-itself booth is, frankly, disappearing from the vendor hall scene. Fulfillment and publisher-consolidation outfits like Studio 2, Adventure Retail, and IPR are, yes, more economically efficient for publishers, but each such agglomeration booth eliminates a half-dozen or more individual publisher booths of the kind that I remember from GenCons in the 80s and 90s.

Past the obvious and compelling economic reasons publishers will cite for not attending GenCon in the traditional fashion, I suspect that CenCon as an opportunity for publishers to meet their fans in person (and, you know, sell them books and games in person) has been supplanted by the Internet. These days, publishers can meet their fans and sell them books 24/7/365, in their underwear if they want to.

(Here’s a mental gift for you, Gameplaywright reader: Imagine, if you will, a horrible alternate universe where all GenCon attendees are clad only in their underwear.)

As the publisher footprint diminishes for whatever reason, it’s easier to see all of the weird crap vendors. It’s possible they were all there before and now it’s just easier to see them, but whether their numbers have maintained or increased, it’s hard to deny that they’re a more obvious presence at the show.

Now, don’t get me wrong about the generally compelling nature of weird crap. A lot of the thrill of the GenCon vendor hall is wandering around and making discoveries, and strange and wonderful impulse purchases. I, for example, bought six new victims for my My Little Cthulhu set.

But for me, GenCon is first and foremost about gaming, and a changing emphasis away from games and toward weird crap can’t help but feel like a change for the worse. GenCon is not, after all, the Best Four Days in Weird Crap. But I’m also certain that there’s a heavy dose of grass-is-greener nostalgia in my head contributing to my sense of gloom and doom. I’ve already been fitted for my “Kids These Days” t-shirt.

I’m curious to find out whether anyone else got the same sense I did of the changing dealer hall, and what value judgements other people attach to whatever change, or lack thereof, they perceive.

If only there were some place readers could offer, you know, their comments…