If this isn’t filled with cool things by the time the convention is over, you’re doing it wrong. (Photo credit: cdedbdme via photopin cc)
Between us I’m the one most likely to forget to bring something. After attending so many of these shindigs, you’d think I would have a system in place by now. If you’ve never attended a convention but might someday when funding and opportunity permit, I’d suggest adding a few of the following items to your personal brainstorming list. I’m sharing this not only to spur your own ideas and decision-making processes but also to remind myself before the big day. I guarantee I’ll forget something anyway.
* Backpack, knapsack, drawstring bag, or whatever. The average attendee buys things. Plural. A plethora of things, even. The ideal purchase storage device will leave your hands free so you can keep grabbing more purchases to stuff inside it, but it shouldn’t be so massive that you have to bulldoze through crowds instead of nimbly dodging other patrons. One of those pro hiking knapsacks that holds two weeks’ living supplies is overkill. A single plastic Wal-Mart bag is underkill. Printed matter adds up and feels heavier after you’ve lugged it around for eight hours and a couple miles.
* Camera, smartphone, or other photography device. You’ll want to remember the panoply of imagery for years and decades to come. A few of your jealous friends (not all of them) will appreciate your recounting. Years from now, your children and grandchildren may demand hard evidence that you weren’t always a grumpy shut-in. And never underestimate the discouraging power of a fading memory.
* Spare batteries. If your camera dies halfway through the weekend, you’ll spend the other half seething, or leaving the convention center and searching the neighborhood for the nearest convenience store. If your device uses a charger, don’t forget to use it each night, and don’t forget it at home. Even worse, don’t forget it in your hotel room when you check out. (That last point is spoken from experience.)
* Spare companion with camera and more spare batteries. If you’re an utter failure all weekend long, bring at least one cohort for backup. Try not to be too much of a leech, and don’t forget you’ll totally owe them multiple favors in return.
* Autograph material. If your favorite writers or artists are attending, dig through your collection for your favorite work of theirs and bring it along in case they’re into autographing. Notice I said “work”, singular. Midlife Crisis Crossover does not condone, or enjoy standing in line for half an hour behind those who do condone, the common practice of dragging along dozens of comics for any one guest to sign in a single sitting. Please note some guests will refuse, charge for the inconvenience, or (noblest-case scenario) require donations up front to a charity of their choosing.
Unlike comics creators, entertainment guests (actors, TV writers, etc.) always charge an autograph fee. If you don’t bring an item for them to autograph, their assistants typically have 8-by-10 glossy photos for sale for yet another fee. I recommend doing your best to find something of your own for them to personalize. If they’ve never written a book or comic, I usually bring DVDs to have the case signed. I may be in the minority on this — my wife and many other fans prefer the 8-by-10s, usually of higher quality than the low-res JPEGs you can print off the Internet.
* Sturdy folder. I keep a dedicated folder in my backpack to hold signed comics, photos, and small prints. When I’m in too much of a hurry when shuffling through my backpack contents throughout the day, said contents tend to damage each other if left unprotected.
* Sketchbook. Some artists will do sketches on the spot for a price. Some fans bring their own sketchbooks from home and have the artists sketch inside those. This may not always work, especially with the more popular artists who’ll already have a long waiting list by the time you reach their table. Some fans report success with this method. It’s not mine for a variety of reasons, but I gather the results can be delightful.
* Tentative to-do list. Every professional convention will have their event schedule posted in advance of the big weekend. You don’t necessarily need to micromanage your schedule and nail down every single minute of your weekend, including time slots designated for bathroom breaks. You can have fun wandering around without direction or agenda, but conventions this size have a wide assortment of panels, Q&As, seminars, and other special events. The more you know before you walk in, the less you’ll miss and regret.
* Want list. Every collector has holes in their collection(s). If you know what you’re seeking before you enter the exhibit hall, or at least have it written down somewhere, you can better focus your energies when you’re scouring the dealers’ longboxes. I’ll be working through my own list tomorrow night. Offhand I know I’m missing a few Fables trades, and I’ll become a permanent fan of the first convention dealer who carries the one issue of Alan Weiss’ Steelgrip Starkey and the All-Purpose Power Tool that I’ve been missing since 1986. I also need to double-check where my ongoing Incredible Hulk cheap-back-issue quest stands, plus a few other Dulcineas.
* Pocket notebook and pen. If you’re kind who likes to share stories with others after the fact. You’ll be surprised how much minutiae slip through the cracks as time passes.
* Snacks and water bottle. If you think theater snacks are overpriced and underwhelming, convention center food prices will cause you grievous emotional harm, to say nothing of the long lines. Visiting a restaurant in the surrounding neighborhood is also an option, as long as you don’t mind waiting alongside the several thousand other fans who had the exact same bright idea. Whatever rations and scraps you can fit in your backpack’s pockets will save you a little cash and heartbreak.
* Medicine. Not a full first aid kid, just a few emergency pills for the conditions most like to strike without warning. Beyond long-term illnesses and conditions, this can include surprise headaches and, in my case, random back pain that recurs at random every few months. Ibuprofen has been a lifesaver on more than one occasion.
* Antiperspirant. Every list you’ll ever read about convention prep will always dedicate a full paragraph to the horrors of unchecked body odor. They’re not exaggerating. No matter how ventilated your convention center may be, the presence of tens of thousands of portable, walking, living space heaters will sooner or later raise the ambient temperature, cause some discomfort, and tax everyone’s body-care products to their fullest extent. Those who bother to use any, that is. Until and unless I live in a nation in which quality antiperspirant usage is 100% guaranteed by all fans of all types, this item needs to be listed in every convention-prep article ever written. Some people need practical advice.
* Money. Oh, yeah, that. Bring some. Wait, no, I mean lots. Preferably bills. Many vendors will take credit cards (possibly even with 21st-cenury methods such as Square), but some artists and smaller used-merch dealers may not. ATMs will be available for those who underestimated their expenses and love paying extra banking fees.
* Manners, patience, and sense of humor. You’re there to have fun, above all else. Leave your misanthropy, misogyny, grudges, and vendettas at home. All of them.
For those curious why I won’t shut up about C2E2, the fine folks at Reed Exhibitions offer this thirty-second glimpse of what’s in store. Enjoy!
