Penguicon Is My Energy Drink
My memory is weird. It fails me often, and that has been one of my most serious weaknesses as Conchair. But my emotional memory is my strength. When things are at their best, and I'm happy, I vividly remember the bad times as a cautionary tale, and steer clear of disasters. When things are at their worst, and I'm disappointed or ashamed, I vividly remember how things went well, and keep energized. This year's concom, of this particular convention, can say a lot of things, but they cannot say the Conchair ever run and hid.
March is the worst. Every year, my memory of the previous year's triumph fades gradually, like a battery. I feel less and less enthusiastic until I actually arrive at Penguicon on Thursday night or Friday. Three days later, most of the others who sacrificed as much as I did just want to put it behind them, while I am at my most excited peak.
It's my job to visualize the worst that could happen, remember the failure modes of past years, and act to prevent it. It's draining. At the worst times, I remind myself to picture the positive experiences of the weekend in my mind. To actually daydream about Penguicon. Then I get a recharge. Concom meetings and SMOS dinners are essential for this.
From time to time, I add a puzzle to my text adventure in progress, Sim Penguicon, and it helps. I figure out how to get Inform to make someone I know carry a concealed weapon. How to make a luggage cart a rideable vehicle. How to get the voice recorders taped to the tables to record everything that happens in that room. How to give the protagonist a set of scores in caffienation, or blood sugar, or adrenaline. How to hide ninjas.
The best time of the past month was probably when sent an email to the concom list announcing a sponsorship. Not exactly because of the news itself-- although it was tremendous, and with poetic appropriateness, it was an energy drink. Specifically because he painted a picture with words of the experiences the sponsor would provide during the convention. From that seed, an entire environment stepped out from behind the curtains. A movie unfolded in my head. The image that had receded behind all these cautionary images was, for a bright moment, almost tangible. My eyes were once more on the prize.
43 days.
Comments
le-bebna-kamni on Mar. 23, 2009 7:03 PM
Hang in there, Matt -- you've got a lot of good people on the Penguicon staff, and a lot of people who support you on the sidelines. Let me know if you need anything. :)
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