Capricon 46 has come and, alas, gone, as is the way of annual conventions. I had waves of free time alternating with “why did I schedule myself like this” intervals… again, that’s kind of the way of conventions. The meal times I left myself were not necessarily convenient, except for breakfast, since most convention scheduling starts around 10am.
One of the first items on my checklist, after checking into the convention and hotel, was setting up my display in the Art Show. The bulk of my items were displayed on half a table (mental note: next year, get the whole table… bid sheets take up space), theoretically shared with another artist. As it happens, the other artist only sent items that needed hanging, so they were on the grid above my selection.
“Super Cabra,” however, was my Artist’s Challenge piece, and went in a separate space with other competing contributions, making it easy for attendees to see the choices they were voting on. There were three this year, all meeting the challenge requirements: “incorporate a goat (the convention’s mascot) and three of the following items: a flag, a hand, a brick, a broken robot or computer, or the color purple.”
As with my other pieces, “Super Cabra” had a bid sheet for people to purchase or – had he received 3 bids – send to auction. The Artist’s Challenge prize – a purple brick with “Capricon 46” on one long end, “Rise of the Humans” (this year’s theme) on the opposite, and goat head on one side – came home with me, while “Super Cabra” went home with the winning bidder.
Much of the convention was normal for me: I hosted a Stitch & Bitch, where people bring craft projects and chat while working on them; I volunteered in a couple places including at the art auction; I helped a little at Box Fort (more about that below). What was new this year were a couple “actual play” role-playing games – RPGs with an audience – and I was delighted to participate in a one-page RPG called “ShenaniGoblins,” where goblins working for the ominously named Dark Lord scramble to correct whatever they messed up on their assigned mission. Apparently setting buildings on fire and flinging goblins from trebuchets are fairly common in this setting, and our game was no exception.
My main duty at Box Fort is the Sunday morning collapse of the boxes for recycling, though I help sometimes with set-up and door duties. I did realize though, looking back at my previous posts about Box Fort, that I haven’t really explained convention parties here. To be clear, each convention has its own rules – if they officially allow parties – and each party may have separate rules too. And both of those must follow the rules established by the location hosting the convention.
In the case of Capricon, which is fresher in my mind than sister convention WindyCon (where Box Fort also had a party), the convention’s Code of Conduct explicitly requires all parties to be coordinated with the Party Liaison, who among other duties, assigns the appropriate rooms for each party based on preference and availability. The book launch party doesn’t usually need a suite; Box Fort and Barfleet (among several others) prefer to have the extra space.
While the parties are all technically private – not run by the convention – coordinating through the convention keeps the party hosts in both the convention’s and the hotel’s good graces, ensuring that the hosts and people attending the parties are all subject to the aforementioned Code of Conduct. This is also a reason to turn away normal people who may be staying at the hotel and happen to stumble into the party hallway (they may have seen the flyers display as the exited the elevator)… they haven’t agreed to the Code of Conduct, and if they misbehave, it’s your problem as the party host.
Some of those parties may be completely private: my bachelorette party, for example, was hosted many years ago at a Capricon, coordinated through the convention to have a suite not on the party floors. (There was also a wedding on-site that weekend, using a much larger area in programming space.) Some may be intermittently private: Barfleet shuts down “early” on Saturday (if you consider midnight early) to become a members-only event, and several parties will “soft-close” late at night as they prepare for the next day.
The difference between “open” – for anyone to walk in – and “soft-close” is also a difference between private and open parties: having the door fully open, sometimes with signage and people standing at the door to card partygoers, versus just propping it open with the security bolt, like when you dash down the hall to fill the ice bucket. If you don’t know the person with the barely open door, you don’t walk in; any conventiongoer (well, depending on party rules) is welcome to walk in and introduce themselves at the party with an open door.
Any open party serving alcohol has to verify your age, which is done either at the door or the bar; at the door typically gets you a stylish wristband that will last the rest of the evening. (Any private party hopefully knows your age, since they invited you.) Some parties will also restrict admission to people who have achieved drinking age or better, reducing the workload for their bartenders. You’ll still get a wristband, they just won’t need to check for it at the bar; they’ll check it at the door if you leave and come back in later. (For clarity, each party typically has a different colored wristband than the other parties, and different for each night as well.)
By the end of Saturday night, partygoers have usually perused the various parties and scanned the QR code to vote in the various party award categories for the year. This year, those voting categories were best mocktail, best alcoholic drink, and best overall party. And yes, Box Fort won the best overall party this year… by a single vote.
