I'm Never Going Back to SDCC As A Fan

In 2009, the summer after my freshman year of college, I went to San Diego Comic Con for the first time. I had already been wanting to go for years and I was excited to meet some friends I had only talked to online. It was a whirlwind experience that I absolutely loved - the line for Hall H was absolutely packed with Twilight fans and if you wanted to see any other programming you had to camp out behind them. The line for the morning Doctor Who panel was the same as for the Supernatural panel (scheduled at the same time) and I slept overnight on the sidewalk surrounded by fans of my other fandom.

I don't even remember the dealer's room, it was probably too overwhelming. (I also get it confused with GenCon's.) At one point a panel I was in line for was announced to be in another wing of the hotel and everyone got up and RAN. People were crying. It was liberating to be in such a large community where people cared so much.

I'm also never going back. Even then, while I enjoyed being in the front row of a Heroes panel in a rather intimate room (after the first ever Glee panel where I didn't know anyone at the table), it felt stifling to be so focused on star worship and commercialism. I was filled with the looming sense that this was the best it was going to get because the con kept expanding rapidly and blowing up in mainstream culture. There was a level of showmanship that was admirable but felt more like attending a theater performance than attending a fan convention.

SDCC is a nonprofit corporation - it began very much as a fan-focused event that ballooned over time. Those vestiges can still be found but the cost is often prohibitive. Other cons, such as those run by straight-up corporation Creation Con, are theoretically affordable, but all feel very pay-to-play. It was around the time of my first Gallifrey One convention in 2016 that I decided I'd only go to smaller fan-run conventions from then on.

I had attended a few Chicago TARDISes while in college and dipped my toes into GenCon and decided that anything that didn't at least have half the programming just for chatting with other fans wasn't in my interest. I've really not regretted it a bit. Gallifrey One has become my Burning Man. Which is a metaphor that only makes sense to burners, I know. But it's a place where a couple hundred of us show up for a weekend, create a miniature society, play around, and then head home. It's full of rituals and nights at the bar and panels with topics you can't imagine anyone outside that world being interested in. We are all still obsessed with a carpet (featured above) that got ripped out eight years ago. It only happens once a year, but returning to Gallifrey is like returning to a home, the long way round.

This is all to say, I'm very much looking forward to attending Gally this year (I'm probably flying to LA as you read this!). If you haven't caught it, I was recently on the Metebelis Two podcast in anticipation of the weekend. Expect more updates next week!