Sometimes it’s easy to feel like reading is the most isolated of the modern hobbies – at least the nerdy ones. Most of my nerd friends have hobbies that boast conventions and gathering spaces: whether it’s a weekly meet at the board game store or the many Comic Cons, there are so many places for folks to connect. But reading has always felt a little more local to me, with book clubs generally beating larger-group gatherings. Perhaps that’s part of why BookTok has been such a sensation – it’s a way to connect with other readers, while maintaining control over the timing and avoiding the awkwardness of real-time conversation. (I certainly feel more articulate writing about my reads here vs. IRL. Ask me what I last read and liked in person and you’re likely to get a lot of panicked blinks.)

Still, this blog has routinely forced me to expand my reading horizons. So when I learned that a mystery convention (Left Coast Crime) was coming to San Francisco, I decided I should check it out. While I’m not really one for big crowds, I was intrigued by the thought of a weekend full of conversation on one of my very favorite genres. And so on Thursday I headed over to the Hyatt Regency on the Embarcadero, ready to give a new experience a try. I had no idea what to expect.

The Lay of the Convention Land

For those of you who, like me, have never attended such a conference, let me start with a lay of the land. The heart of Left Coast Crime was, as you may have expected, the panels. Panels ran across 4-5 halls; 45 minutes each; 4 panel slots a day. These were in addition to the major sessions – interviews with the toastmaster, guest of honor, etc. – which were given the prime after-lunch and end of day slots. Evenings ended with a special event like a movie or the Lefty Awards (though one was canceled after the East Coast Winter Storm).

In addition to the panels, there were a few additional rooms and traditions worth mentioning. Attendees all got to vote on the Lefty Award recipients. (I abstained, having not read many of the books and feeling sheepish about the possibility of bias.) There was also a “book room”, which sold books from all the panelists and where panelists could sign + meet and greet once their panels were over. Panels generally ended with a disperse diffusion towards the book room, where folks could put all their unanswered questions to the authors of their choice. Finally, there was a silent auction that raised money for a local charity, full of book boxes and knit paraphernalia.

Thus was the stage set for my first-ever convention.

Readers, writers, and the panel room

My first impression of the event was that, in several ways, I was not the median / expected attendee. Most of the folks attending had a few decades of life experience on me. (While you might guess this was an artifact of an event that started Thursday afternoon, the attendee mix geared only slightly younger on the weekend.) There were few folks of color, either attending or on the panels. But perhaps more importantly, many (over half, perhaps) of attendees seemed to be writers in addition to fans.

This attendee mix – writers vs. simply readers – seemed to shape much of the content and the panelists’ responses to questions. Lots of the questions and answers focused on the craft of writing – the how rather than the why. (“Plotter vs. pantser?” was the second-most frequent question of the weekend, trumped only by “What’s next for you?”) And many of the answers were fascinating – I walked away with a newfound appreciation for the work that authors put into their craft.

From the folks writing in rural settings who combined extensive research trips and interviews with imagination, to the cozy mystery author who kept extensive list of her characters, settings, and plot devices to keep things consistent and different across her series, the writing-focused sessions reminded me of how much curiosity and diverse experiences authors pour into their work. (I also really enjoyed the panel format, which allowed multiple authors to compare and contrast their approaches. Plus, I gained a new appreciation for the skill of panel moderation – I’ll listen to any interview Catriona McPherson runs, as she’s a delight.)

When the Why took Center Stage

At the end of the day, however, I’m a dedicated reader and ruminator, not a writer. I love to experience a great book, and deconstruct the why. Why does a book make me think about society, or personhood? Why did the author choose these themes, with these characters, with this setting? Only one panel really got into that type of discussion, particularly around theme – and I was so fascinated by all the authors as a result that I went up to the book room and purchased every starter in the series.

For those curious, the session was “Writing Historical Female Sleuths: Pros and Cons”. At one point, Karen Odden (the novel moderator) elicited why the authors chose to write in their time periods – and the answers were fascinating. From Rob Osler’s parallels between Progressive-era Chicago to the modern day, to Emily Edwards’ deep interest in class and gender opportunities in ’50s New York, to John Copenhaver’s exploration of gender roles and queerness in ’40s DC – each author used a historical lens to explore modern themes and parallels. It was this interest, combined with the extensive research and attention to detail, that made me so excited to acquire their books. I love a book that wants to make me think.

So off to the book room I went, and I must confess I think I word-vomited over them a little bit. I have never been good at “meeting my heroes”, and all three were immensely gracious as I stumbled through requesting a signature on my new copies of their books. I am now the proud and fond owner of 5 new historical fiction books, and I can’t wait to dig into them.

Finding room to breathe… and read

Still, all that awkwardness meant I needed some breathing room. I don’t do well in crowds – even ones full of quiet mystery readers! And feeling a bit out of place didn’t help matters. I had promised myself before attending that, while I wanted to stray from my comfort zone, I wouldn’t push myself so far outside it that I’d end up in burn out land. And so I found a couple of ways to give myself that breathing room over the few days, which I will share for anyone also interested.

1 . Reading breaks

From prior experience – professional conferences, school, etc. – I know I don’t do well with extended periods of listening and learning. This gets even harder when I’m not fully engaged with the topic at hand. So I promised myself, going in, that I would give myself breaks if I wanted or needed them. And what better way to take a break from a book conference than to escape into a book?

I jest, but it was a perfect solution. Whether in the 30-minute breaks between sessions or over lunch, I found myself taking advantage of the beautiful weather to read outside in the sun. “Outside in the sun” is my very favorite reading location, and I had carried along several wonderful reads with me. Over the course of the convention, I’ve read a new romantasy novel (mid); the latest Rob Osler (excellent!); and the new Julia Seales (so enjoyable I want to re-read the last and see if my opinion has shifted).

While the idea of reading breaks may seem obvious, I grew up with parents who often scolded me for reading while at a social event, or (even worse) an event I’d paid to attend. So for me, giving myself permission to enjoy my entire day instead of trying to extract The Most Value from my ticket was a revelation.

2. Knitting

I believe I’ve mentioned my neurodivergence elsewhere on this blog. Over the years, I’ve come to terms with my need to stim for focus. When I’m at work, this can mean either taking notes or playing with a fidget; but given this was for pleasure, I figured I could try a different strategy.

I actually attended one session on Thursday sans anything to do with my hands, and found it immensely difficult to focus as much as I wanted. And so, from Friday forwards, I broke out the knitting in each session I attended. From a focus standpoint, it went great! I was much more able to listen deeply while my hands were occupied with yarn and needles. And though I got some odd looks in the earlier sessions, later in the conference, nobody really seemed to notice.

Not just that – I was delighted to see others crafting around me! In one delightful session, I sat near both a tatter and a needlepointer. Our crafter’s corner took a moment to get to know each other and appreciate all our output – a bright moment after an already fantastic panel. While I know others have brains like mine, it was lovely to see that in the wild!

On trying new things

Before I fully wrap, I want to share my immense gratitude to the organizers of Left Coast Crime. This is clearly an event made possible through the love and support of a thriving community. It’s obviously complex to orchestrate and requires years of planning and dozens of volunteers, and as a beneficiary or that effort I have nothing but amazement and gratitude.

That said, where have I landed on book conventions?

I’m not sure the experience has made me a convention convert, especially as a reader and not a writer myself. (Yes, I write this blog. But that’s not really the target of this type of event.) I loved hearing from authors, but didn’t end up feeling a strong sense of connection to this community as a mere fan. If a convention happens to come by SF again, I might look into dropping by; but I’m not sure I’ll be flying across the country to attend similar events. (I may, however, be more open to attending author events that I’ve been in the past!)

Regardless, as a reader, I’ve walked away inspired by the author community. This is a group that clearly puts so much care and love into their craft. Many of these panels were a reminder of those immense efforts. I’ve walked away with a renewed appreciation for authors – even those whose books I don’t click with – and the time, curiosity, and care they put into their work. I’m glad I went and experienced something new…

You can expect more typical book fare from me next week. Until then – stay cozy, and stay curious!