Casting Off

Dearest Rachel –

You would’ve been proud of the boys, honey. Maybe more Logan than Daniel, but we were up and out of the house at what you would have considered a respectable hour.

Having been fed before leaving, we saw no need to stop for breakfast provisions like donuts or the like that we used to do en route to the convention. Indeed, we’ve done very little in terms of stocking up on snack compared to previous cons.

One of the reasons is because, as I mentioned before, the fanfiction community has almost entirely dissolved at this point. Most of them have already stopped coming for various reasons – family commitments, where spousal preferences or impressionable children precluded attendance, for instance. Others have since joined you on the other side, which makes me feel old in a way that your departure didn’t. In any event, this means that the Friday evening get-together is no longer a thing, either; which is just as well, since you were the one who was so eager to play hostess. Me, not so much.

Not to mention (and you’ve heard from me ad nauseum about this), I’m trying to eat less these days and to get myself to exercise more. The fact that our hotel is two-thirds of a mile from the hotel where a fair number of the events are being held (and maybe half a mile from the convention center) addresses the latter issue somewhat, and by bringing less in the way of snacks, I’m hoping I can keep myself from backsliding too far on the former. Not entirely, though – as you can see from the photo of the trunk, there’s this one bag of groceries lying there between the backpacks – so there’s no guarantee of anything. Still, this counts as ‘traveling light’ for us, as I’m sure you’ll agree.

Granted, once we’re on our way, these matters are set aside. We have what we have; and anything we might be lacking will just have to be endured for the next fifty or so hours. For now, the objective is to get down to Rosemont and get ourselves settled in to the ‘routine’ of the convention itself.

This year’s installment turns out to be different from previous years in that the registration is in the foyer of the convention center, as opposed to being in the exhibit hall. Once we get inside, there’s not so much of the milling about of folks in cosplay strutting their stuff (although there is a bit of that) as there are those queueing for registration and badge pickup, neither of which we need to do, as we’ve gotten ours by mail as has been our custom for well over the past decade.

This relocation means that the exhibit hall is that much more filled with booths and vendors; for all that I might bemoan the fact that the anime-related communities we know have died (sometimes quite literally), on an overall basis, the industry as a whole appears to be thriving.

Granted, it’s not my scene anymore, as such, but that’s probably on me for not keeping up. And indeed, it occurs to me that the writing community tended to be long on what’s become known as ‘gatekeeping,’ where we had certain standards that may have made ourselves unwelcome to those seeking to join us unless they committed to meeting them, thereby keeping our numbers lower than they should be. To be sure, a craft such as writing should have certain standards, having to do with telling an interesting story (and not distracting with bad spelling or grammar), but limiting the fandom wasn’t prudent on our part; once the industry grows, we become an infinitesimal sliver of an ever-growing crowd, slowly becoming lost in the comprehensive ocean of fandom.

Then again, maybe that’s what we were afraid of; disappearing in this ever-growing throng. Which is basically what’s happened; the boys may have each other, but I’m realizing that some are probably experiencing that “lonely in a crowd” effect here, which our gatekeeping and community-building were meant to stave off. While you would have embraced the crowd, saying hello to, if not actually everybody, everybody who caught your fancy, most of us now just find ourselves treading water through this human sea, trying to navigate our way through it safely, and not truly taking in the view. Without the little groups we belonged in – those smaller, more intimate relationships that kept us afloat – we’re just adrift in the middle of this vastness.

In which case, I really need to ask for your eye on me, honey, and for you to wish us all well. I dare say we’ll need it.