Origins was last week; I wasn’t there.
On the subject of Origins, a shout-out to FFG co-worker Corey Koneiczka, the designer of StarCraft: The Board Game, who earned a well-deserved Origins Award for his work on that game. Corey is the best hobby board game developer of whom I’m aware.
Although on Sunday morning at the Tidball Homestead we had fantastic bacon from the St. Paul Farmer’s Market, the enjoyment of said bacon was just a little bit diminished, because the Sunday of Origins is usually reserved for breakfast with Noted Genius Ken Hite.
Ken, no doubt, was able to find bacon without me, and the situation was ameliorated by the fact that Ken will be here in Minnesota this coming weekend, for CONvergence. We will no doubt find bacon soon at the typographically advanced Bad Waitress. But that’s neither here nor there (as they say); back to Origins.
Origins was the first major convention I attended as a pro. I was thrown into the deep end as a relatively new employee of Atlas Games when John Nephew and the other Scions of Atlasery (yikes, no good way to pronounce that) were otherwise occupied that weekend: I was sent east to Columbus with a van full of product (including the recently released Lunch Money if I recall correctly) to meet two personal friends of John’s business partner, who I otherwise didn’t know from Adam but who helped me run the booth for the weekend.
Good times. (With none of the sarcasm that usually accompanies the phrase).
Atlas being so small in those days—and in these days, I suppose, but that’s also neither here nor there—the big summer conventions were one of the places where I learned about the games business. Eager, young, clueless Jeff went in, and lots of professional relationships and strong friendships came out.
(The other place where I learned about the hobby gaming business was the Internet. I’m still trying to unlearn some of those things.)
But even though conventions have been critical to me professionally, my first experiences with the big shows were as a fan. I shit you not that I saved money from a newspaper-delivery job to go to GenCon the summer between 6th and 7th grades, and I didn’t miss a GenCon after that until I left the game industry in 2000 to go to grad school and find a new career. (Ask me sometime how that turned out.) I think I’m one of the few pros who actually miss convention gaming.
The point lurking around here is that I’ve got this deep-seated fondness for conventions, especially the big summer shows, but that when I try to describe to people why that is, it always comes down to my personal experiences instead of any list of bullet points inherent in the events themselves.
I’ve tried—recently—to enumerate the reasons I think other people should go to conventions. I eventually gave up and just let words to the effect of “You should go to game conventions” stand on their own.
So it boils down to this:
You should go to game conventions.
If any of the rest of you can explain why, with bullet points and whatnot, for the love of God, jump on it in the comments, and a thousand thanks in advance.
I agree with the sentiment, although I think it’s much more fun to go to conventions with friends than alone.
Conventions are a place to try new games, bask in gamishness, and tune out the other things for a while.
Convention gaming is another thing entirely. I played one of the best one-shots I’ve ever played at a convention — and also hands-down the worst. I would much rather play a “classic” with pre-gen or mostly pre-gen characters than a “living” campaign for which I have to do preparation, and it seems like the trend is in the other direction. Do you have any thoughts on that?
Because at a games convention you are with friends, even if you don’t know them yet. I have made acquaintanceship with people while in line at GenCon, and too many friendships to count while playing games there and at other cons.
People are there to have fun and GAME. They chat and have fun, but gaming is first.
Gaming with friends. Why not go?
Betsy, back in the day when I roleplayed at conventions, I played independent (i.e., non-RPGA) one-off events almost exclusively. I played some tournaments, but almost all were independently run, or sponsored by non-RPGA organizations — the CoC Grand Masters tournament, for example.
I’ve never played a “living” game, but I don’t suspect I would enjoy it. It sort of defeats the purpose of convention play, for me, which is mostly to try new things.
1. Anticipating hour after hour of gaming, uninterrupted by work, chores, homework, obligations, emergencies, or life drama.
2. Pouring through the con booklet, scheduling a weekend full of interesting sessions. Choosing primary choices and back-ups. Making sure to plan for second round sessions (if you make it) or having something else entertaining (if you don’t). Sweating over those sessions where no choice is a no-brainer; doubly sweating over those where two or more choices are. Leaving a session free somewhere in the middle to decompress and see the dealers’ room. This process is a game in itself.
3. Checking into a hotel knowing that cleaning and tidying are irrelevant for the next several days. (Some dread at the knowledge that you will encounter at least one gamer who takes that to apply to their own personal hygiene.)
4. Checking in with old acquaintances or friends, catching up, and spending some quality gaming time with them. Finding new acquaintances, possibly even a new friend, during the games.
5. Spending hour after hour of gaming, uninterrupted by work, chores, homework, obligations, emergencies, or life drama.
6. Reveling in great sessions with old friends or new acquaintances; commiserating in sorry ones with same. Talking about what could have been better and what could not have.
7. Wandering the dealers’ room looking for bargains or meeting local game store owners (at small shows), or seeing the game industry laid out before you in all its glory, and then diving in for hands on demos and evaluation (including the “off-shoot” computer games and game accessories) at big shows.
8. Eating out every meal, unconcerned about food shopping, storage, prepping, or cleanup.
9. Getting buzzed on caffeine during the day, and other stuff at night (for some).
10. Adjusting your carefully planned convention schedule on the fly as a game grabs you, new opportunities come up, new acquaintances draw you on tangents, or word about a disaster looming comes to you.
11. Wandering the open gaming areas to see what’s being played, happening onto a just-about-to-start game you wanted to try, standing over and kibitzing in a game you have enjoyed in the past. Hanging with a game designer who’s offering his new baby for public demo and critique. Offering said critique and possibly helping improve a game.
12. Spending otherwise scarce dollars on new kewl games, toys, gear, stuff. Biggest worry not hording cash, but having enough in case you must have something else. Eagerly and sleepily scanning some of the new swag you’ve secured.
13. Riding home, remembering hour after hour of gaming, uninterrupted by work, chores, homework, obligations, emergencies, or life drama.
14. Sleeping long and hard Sunday night, and possibly Monday night as well.
I’m sure there’s something I’m missing.
Not sure all those are positives for nongeeks.
Alex
Yes. Yes!
Just like that.
You guys are making me misty.
Jeff, I was sad to hear you weren’t going to be at Origins this year. Was hoping to interview you yet again 🙂
I rarely get to play at Origins. Since I’m there for work, I spend most of my time in the main hall doing interviews, looking at products and taking pictures. Sitting and playing a game for 2+ hours just doesn’t fit into my schedule. I’d love to, but I feel guilty just from buying Mage Knight at the discount booth because I know I’m not going to be writing about or reviewing Mage Knight.
Still, I wouldn’t miss Origins for anything, and am still hoping to make GenCon next year.
ME
I’m going to Gen Con this year, and aside from some potential networking, it’s the first time in a while I’ll just be going to have fun.
I can’t wait.
I definitely agree with Betsy that going to conventions with friends is preferred, if only so you have that “known quantity” to rely on if you happen to get a sour game or whatnot. That said, until this year I was the only convention goer of my local friends, thanks to travel costs and the like. In the past few years of going to shows solo, I ended up with another way folks do this:
Work at gaming conventions.
Now, I’m not suggesting this every convention (though I tend to work most shows I go to now as press, at minimum), but if you’re worried about going alone, that’s a great way to meet people. Spending a few hours in a booth working alongside other folks can easily lead to after-hours gaming or meals with them — and that’s how friendships get forged. Or be a GM monkey for a company and bond with other people as you talk about technique, players who came by, and things like that.
I got started at the first GenCon SoCal as a GURPS GM for SJG, and there’s people from that first con that I still talk with today. Now when I go to conventions, even if I’m traveling alone I have plenty of friends there looking forward to my arrival.
I suppose this all could be summed up with: Networking is awesome.