Baycon 2026 report

I don’t attend many science-fiction/fantasy conventions these days. Pre-pandemic, I often attended conventions on the West Coast, including Orycon in Portland, Oregon. I’d add a day or two on each end of the convention dates to get in a visit with my best friend from college and a dear writer friend. Ditto going south to Loscon in Los Angeles or Condor in San Diego, or larger conventions like World Fantasy or SFWA’s Nebula Awards weekend when they’re held on the West Coast. Sadly, both friends have died, so even before the pandemic, I found it harder to fly north. Orycon has closed, and I believe that Condo has, too. Nevertheless, I always try to make it to my local con, Baycon/Westercon. It’s within driving distance, although a bit far to commute, and it’s a vibrant, diverse community.

When I attend a convention, I do so as a professional author, so I almost always appear on panels, readings, and autographing sessions. Some conventions request that potential guests submit proposals for events. If panel topics are accepted, the guest then moderates them. This was the case for 3 of the 6 panels I appeared on (* = I proposed and moderated this panel). Here are descriptions, with a few notes on how the discussions unfolded. With only one exception, I have avoided using the names of panelists and audience members. All the opinions are my own!

 

The Reality of Fiction. We normally think of fiction as unreal, but quite a few authors talk regularly with their fictional characters about the story and where it should head. How does this work? How can knowing some of the psychology involved give us a livelier relationship with fictional characters? What wisdom for life might they impart when listened to?

I arrived a bit early, as is my custom, to find the panelists wondering who the moderator was and expressing their unwillingness to do it. “Okay,” sez I, “I’ll do it.” Therein followed a fascinating divergence between the tired, perennial question, “What to do when your characters won’t behave the way you want them to?” and how much your characters reflect yourself—is this a good thing or a bad thing?–versus my personal focus, “Where is the energy in the story? Character (Hamlet), plot (thrillers), ideas (mysteries)…and how difficulties with characters arise from mismatches between different elements.

 

*Writing our Nightmares. What horror, dark fantasy, and related genres can teach us about surviving personal and political catastrophes.

The idea for this panel arose from two incidents: Octavia Butler told me that she took the things that really scared her and put them on paper; in a horror panel many years ago, when I said I had enough nightmares in my life, the other panelists showed me how horror can shine a light in the darkest places. As writers, we have agency; as readers, we trust that the protagonist, no matter how vulnerable, has or gains power over their fate.

We talked about having lost many traditional methods of dealing with trauma, so horror as a genre offers catharsis via the story journey; the end is different from the setup. “Horror is safer than memories.”

Finally, the zinger trope: “Play nice or I’ll put you in my novel” (and you won’t come out unscathed)!

 

*Finding Our Tribe. Writers, readers, and fans share how storytelling creates communities of understanding, acceptance, and celebration of differences. From fandom as family to writing as a way of healing, stories transcend the fear and prejudice of our times.

My thought in proposing it was to celebrate how the science fiction/fandom community welcomes and celebrates those who feel they don’t fit in anywhere else. This could be folks “on the spectrum” (of autism), sexual and gender minorities, racial and ethnic minorities, geeks of all flavors, and so forth. Everyone in the room had a version of a “finding my home here” story.

The second aspect was ethnic or ancestral communities. I was fortunate to run into one of my favorite co-panelists, an Indigenous elder, and invite him to participate in the panel. He brought the perspective of tribal membership being integral to identity, the history of near-extermination, and the separation he experiences between his role as elder and teacher, and his love for science fiction not shared with fellow members of his tribe. He helped us to understand the difference between tribal and tribalism. Tribal affiliation nourishes community and deep understanding of collective history. Tribalism creates a distinct “in-group” (those we identify with) and an “out-group” (everyone else).

Three of us were Jewish, and the only thing we agreed on was that we don’t agree on anything except being Jewish (“two Jews, three opinions,” more like “twenty-five opinions with footnotes and appendices spanning 2,000 years of commentary.” You can join if you’re willing to study hard for a year and pass a board examination. Otherwise, “Are you nuts?”) Much laughter ensued.

 

*Escapism is Not a Dirty Word! Panelists and participants share their favorite comfort reading and how it informs, sustains, and gives us hope. Continue reading “Baycon 2026 report”

How to Avoid Gillian at Octocon this weekend

Octocon is the Irish National Science Fiction Convention, and I’m on panels and giving a talk, online. I take seriously the fact that some people love all the things, but without Gillian. I used to joke about it with a “How to Avoid Me” guide. I decided to make things easier for antisemites by reintroducing these guides when I have time. Today I have time. (It’s either this or housework.) Here is that guide: happy Gillian-avoidance.

I’m giving Irish time and Australian time, thanks to the Octocon website, which translated everything for me. The easiest way of avoiding me is, of course, to strictly follow the Australian time and go to bed early. You can dream beautiful dreams instead of listening, say, to a talk on mostly-Medieval tricksters. Or, if you’re lucky enough to be in Dublin, go to the face to face versions of the panels.

Let’s start with tricksters. Do not be online or in the room streaming the online on Saturday 11 October at 11:30 IST or 21:30 GMT+11 (UTC+11 for those who GMT mystifies). You’ll be avoiding a talk and conversation on “Not the Usual Tricksters: Starting with the Middle Ages.” You will very happily miss hearing me snark about Robin Hood and talk about the origin stories that led to his trickster element. I may be polite about Renart (the Old French version) and Merlin (the Geeoffrey of Monmouth version). I will wax ecstatic about Ashmodai and his curious feet.
The conversation will all of us chatting about the tricksters of Western Europe. This conversation will be is less Commedia dell’Arte and more pop fantasy and folklore and regional traditions from the Middle Ages on. At this precise moment, I’m thinking about Evangeline Walton and Alan Garner and their stories about Welsh stories, but that’s this moment. Later today I plan to obsess (again) about Eustace.
The discussion bit will be open to most tales and most modern versions of tales. If people want to talk about Loki and other deities, we’ll save them until the end, because they get heaps of time in many conversations and Fulke Fitz Warin and Eustace the Monk do not. In my dreams someone informs us all about the Irish equivalents of both Eustace and Merlin.
Just this once, those tricksters who have historical evidence for their actual existence will be more important than those who are associated with building (Stonehenge and the First Temple come to mind) and anyone who existence only in literature (Renart) will be lesser players.
Why have I given you such a description? So that you can look up everything at your leisure and avoid me, of course.

Saturday, 13:00 IST or 23:00 GMT+11.
This is a classic What If… panel. Unfortunately for you, it has excellent panellists and one of the best moderators. I suggest watching online and turning the sound off when I’m talking.

Sunday 12 October 2025 at 10:00 IST or 20:00 GMT+11 is a Star Trek panel. Again, it has really good panellists (apart from me), but muting me twice would be boring for you. I suggest instead that you sing Star Trek themes whenever I speak. Or do your own version of the Charlie song from season one of the Original series. This way you avoid me, but get your Star Trek discussion… and it’s going to be a good one. Also, it turns the panel into a personal musical. If you feel the need to dance to the music, I won’t tell anyone.

Sunday at 11:30 IST or 21:30 GMT+11 is Historical Myths and How to (Not) Use Them. It’s online only, but… best avoid me and not the panel. After all, Jean Bürlesk is moderator and, unfortunately for you, the rest of the panel is also excellent.
This time I don’t suggest that you mute or sing. I suggest a drinking game. A slow, comforting half glass of something nice whenever I speak, a sip for every mention of a favourite historical myth, and a whole glass slugged down in a great hurry whenever the equivalent of an onstage costume change at Eurovision occurs. By the end of the panel you will have enjoyed a wonderful discussion on Historical Myths and also have an entirely sound understanding of why Australians love Eurovision so very much. (Just so’s you know, spellcheck wants to me change ‘Eurovision’ to ‘Neurosis.’)

And that’s it! That’s how to avoid Gillian while still enjoying every moment of Octocon.

PS If you’re avoiding me seriously and don’t even want to see my face, I suggest a moveable sticky patch to go on your computer screen. My favourite would be one with a koala and I can provide a picture for this, but stick figures are nicely universal and even easier. I do not recommend using super-glue.