Today is Thursday, July 20. One week from this moment I will have come home from work, frazzled with pointedly not discussing where I’m going with my coworkers, and I will be looking forward to a fretful night of not being able to sleep (melatonin and Sleepy Time Extra Strength tea to the rescue?)
Because Friday morning I will be on a passenger jet hustling me from Minneapolis to New York City for SizeCon. I’ll check into my hotel, take inventory of my supplies for the umpteenth time, try to find a convenient pizza place and then a brewpub, and I guess I’d better bring the melatonin and Sleepy Time with me.
I’m going to SizeCon, the second annual convention for everyone and their satellites interested in size-fetish erotica. I’m going to sit on a couple panels and talk about the writing craft and self-publication and online promotion. I’m going to mill about and schmooze and find my favorite authors and artists and porn stars, to all of whom I will only be respectful and grateful.
For both Saturday and Sunday, I have rented half a table, which is my “booth.” At this booth I will mount a poster advertising myself (if my last-minute foray with the printers is worth my sweat), and there will be a spread of business cards and, likely, a bowl of candy. Either something obvious like Gummi Bears, as featured in oh-so-many vore videos, or something obscure and challenging, if I can find a Mexican or Asian market on Friday.
As well, I’m scrambling to compose a book for sale at my booth. I have the stories formatted and laid out, and I’ve found a place that swears they can print out 20 copies within 48 hours, and the LaGuardia Courtyard Hotel promises they can receive a package and hold onto it for me. So if this Rube Goldberg sequence of events pans out, I will have a 150-page book of original short stories for attendees to purchase. There’s an option, for SizeCon attendees.
It’s my greatest hope to find people that I know. I’m not entirely sure who’s going to SizeCon (and I’m surprised by who isn’t), but I’ll be looking for the friends I’ve made on Twitter and I hope they know to look for me. I try to be a decent and friendly person, and I think no one on size-Twitter has a clear picture of how I must be. Well, I’m presenting myself to the public forum in a week and two days. After a year of interacting and embarrassing myself online, I think I’ve gotten over my dread of letting my real world crossover into size-Twitter and my fetish writing. It’ll be real.
I wonder if I’ll hide my face online anymore? I probably should, for the benefit of those who can’t come out that weekend.
People have told me this is also a great opportunity to meet my fan base. I cannot imagine that (aside from the few friends I mentioned) anyone has it on their personal agenda, their checklist for the weekend, their bucket list to meet me in person. It would certainly be thrilling if anyone there had heard of me. If some random person came up and said they knew my name and could indicate a story of mine they liked, I would probably explode in gratification. My heart would stop beating, I would shake their hand with a reverent “nunc dimittis,” and a beam of light would assume me up into Giantess Heaven.
There is no possible way two people could come up and say “hey, I know you.” Unless someone saw my booth on Saturday, got a business card, looked up my website on Saturday night instead of getting drunk and laid, just to come in on Sunday and do me a little thrill.
I just hope it goes well, honestly. I hope I meet some friendly people, connect with a few friends, share some useful information on the panels, and don’t experience anything meme-worthy on the flights there and back. If you can read this and have any idea who I am, if you’ll be at SizeCon, please do find me and say hi.