British Fantasy Society FantasyCon 2006

"Two hundred quid?!"

Why the subtitle? I do not intend to explain, for it shall go down in FCon-lore, but suffice to say anyone who knows the story exclaimed the same thing.

FCon started out just like the previous two: leave early, and toodle up the M6. This time, though, I picked up Gary Greenwood en route, and I was thankful for the navigation was helpful.

We made the hotel in Nottingham at 1pm, and were first in the bar where we eventually met Steve Savile, David Price, Simon Clark, Steve Lockley, Jon Oliver (& wife, sorry forgot your name - a story that will be echoed throughout the weekend and is therefore by no means personal) and then Gary's McMahon and Fry, followed by John Probert. I was due to launch Gary Mc's debut novella that weekend, so before I got too comfy, had to take my leave and head back to the car...

Five boxes, and four flights of stairs later (mental note: park the car on the same level has the hotel walkway next time) I took a shower in my room, and relaxed a little, before the hullabaloo began...

The dealers room was actually quite large and brimming with goodies, from the stalwarts of Bob W of The Talking Dead and Erik Arthur of Fantasy Centre to the new-comer Iain Emsley of Aust Gate, but there were also a smatterong of small presses such has myself: Andrew Hook and Elastic Press; Gary Fry and Gray Friar; Lee & Guy of Humdrumming; Sean Wright and Crowswing; Garry, Paula and Ray (Hadesgate); Immanion Press and a whole host more.

Surprisingly, I actually sold a few books that night, and being a Friday it was surprisingly busy in the bar - was this an omen, would this be a taster for Saturday?

Yes.

I didn't enter the quiz, the unfeasibly difficult quiz set by Sandy Auden, but stayed in the bar where myself, Gary G, Simon Morden and Tim Love decided to absond and search for a curryhouse (yes, I know, such a strange concept at FantasyCon!) Luckily, we bumped into the advance party: Tony Richards, Dave Price, John Travis and a couple of others who again the names escape me, who pointed us in the direction of an all-you-can-eat-for-a-tenner place up the road.

We were sold, and by all accounts I can recommend the "Taj Mahal" which is on some street just off Maid Marian Way.

Returning back to the hotel, it began to fill up, and what looked like a scrum at the bar - there is only one thing worse than a beast of the Cthulu Mythos: a horde of FCon attendees scrabbling for a beer. The bar was seriously under-staffed, and was constantly on the verge of running dry. Thankfully, this was all rectified on Saturday.

Further attendees included Neil Williamson and the Scottish contingent (anyone who came from Scotland and the NE had a seriously hellish journey, and Neil looked knackered) and also Paul Meloy and Jetse de Vries who asked for one, then two, then realising just how slow the bar was, three pints. They didn't last long. Well, he paid for two.

I could write a bit more, but here are some photo's instead:

Gary Greenwood (well, half a face), Steve Savile, Simon Morden and Paul Finch

Tony Richards and two of the IZ editorial team: Jetse de Vries and Dave Mathew (so long has they continue then IZ will go from strength-to-strength)

John Probert and the two Gary's

I left around 2am, which was frankly early, but onto Saturday...

My alarm warbled into life at 8am - shower, breakfast, selling. Sod the hangover, the day must begin proper... and my God, was it a good day! Gary McMahon's Rough Cut just flew off the stand: the signed/numbered copies were gone in no time, and the stock of ordinary copies were quickly wittled away, Gary Mc's signing hand moving faster than, well, that's a bit personal...

Alison Davies also appeared, there to launch her charity anthology "Shrouded by Darkness" (Telos) as opposed to harranging during the day with frivilous e-mails. Allyson Bird also entered the fray, this being her first convention, followed by Mark Samuels and his wife Adriana.

I spent most of the day in the dealers room, ably assisted by Roy Gray of IZ who also sold a few subscriptions and single copies of the magazine (and someone who knows a thing or two on selling, trust me!) but I did manage to pop along to the editing panel and Clive Barker's interview with Paul Kane. I brought my camera, but sod's law: the batteries ran out.

Barker was pretty subdued, and sounded not unlike Marlon Brando, but it was still very interesting to hear some deeply personal moments from the Man... and a gave some great advice for any aspiring writer.

Whilst I was away, apparently Gary had to sign a copies of Rough Cut to Joe Hill and Conrad Williams. He was pretty pleased about that.

And here are some pics from that day:

Gary's Fry and McMahon pointing out what book to buy on the weekend

Gwilym Games, Adri and Mark "I bought it" Samuels

Andrew Hook and Neil Williamson just before the Grand Book Launch took place

Before a planned trip to Ye Olde Trippe to Jerusalem Pub, David Howe of Telos Publishing (and MC for the weekend) announced the Grand Book Launch in the dealers room, where quite a plethora of small presses and individual authors presented the wares - unaccustomed as I am to public speaking (unlike Mr John Probert, who spoke like someone from RADA which he wasn't) I think I managed to convey the the essence of Rough Cut to the masses (i.e., I babbled!)

Anyway, with a quick wash and change of shirt, I met up with Alison Davies (our guide) and Scott, with Mark West, Gary Greenwood, Simon Morden, Dai Price, the Howe's (David and Rosemary) and also the Olivers, and we made our way to the pub built into the cliff underneath the infamous castle.

When they said it was small, it was small. But perfectly bijou. Unfortunately, I didn't take my camera with me.

There, we took a change from tradition and didn't have a curry - and there was no mistake of being late for the raffle, since Mr Howe was with us. Scott regailed some home truths about Alison (she swears!) and the table was pretty much split down the middle when it came to Marmite ("evil, vile!") and spiders, but pretty united when it came to wasps ("what is the point?")

Anyway, back to the hotel and the raffle: the Fabulour FantasyCon raffle is world-famous - trust us! - but unfortunately, it does tend to go on for a bit, and some of the prizes are, well, shite. Mind you, after two and a half hours I did win a hardback copy of Margo Lanagan's Black Juice.

Returning to the bar for a re-fill, it was then time for the Short Film Showcase hosted by Martin Roberts and Helen, and there were some great films shown: The Night of the Hell Hamsters and Deadly Tantrum. Sheer cinematic greatness.

From there on, the night is a blur - except I do remember chatting with Marie, Paul, Alex Davis and Brian then realising it was 4am and I really needed some sleep. :(

Sunday, which is pretty normal for FCon, was subdued - wouldn't you be, when you've spend an entire month's salary on books and beer, and had probably less than six hours sleep?

Nevertheless, I did sell a couple of books (not to mention Steve Lockley dumping a few review copies on me, cheers Steve!) and by mid-day I was close to packing everything up, loading the car, then checking out, awaiting the BFS Awards:

Don't worry Pete, it's not the Paypal people...

(L-R, top row: Les Edwards, Peter Crowther, Neil Gaiman, Steve Jones
L-R, bottom row: Allen Ashley, Stuart Young, Joe Hill and David Sutton)

Stu was in a gaze that afternoon, and I've never seen anyone look so happy - thoroughly deserved.

Shaking hands with Stu and assorted persons, I bid my farewell and along with Gary G and Terry Cooper with his girfriend Dominie, we made our way back to South Wales, where I eventually landed on the sofa at 9pm.

A thoroughly great weekend - not just in sales - but for meeting up with people again, and sharing the occasional pint, and assorted conversation.

Roll on '07! :)

Pendragon Press, Po Box 12, Maesteg, Mid Glamorgan, South Wales, CF34 0XG
chris@pendragonpress.co.uk