I'll never believe that way again

[ellenmillion]

Two nights ago, I was waving my hands around and complaining about unreliable supply companies, people who say they'll do something and don't, and all the many, many, many things that I'm looking forward to not relying on so much in the next phase of EMG.

Somehow, that talk moved on to the first convention I signed up to vend at.

Jake looked at me and said: "You'll never believe that way again, will you."

I believed in that convention. That was during the golden age of Elfwood - its absolute pinnacle. Thomas himself was coming over from Sweden to attend. We were going to take Reno by storm. That was going to be the Big Thing for EMG, really launch me into the mainstream of fantasy art. It was my first convention - attending or vending, and I was so terribly excited.

But Thomas canceled. The attendance was in the dozens, not the thousands. Not one single person showed up for my panels. The work I sold in the artshow, I never got paid for. (Though I shelled out the royalties to the artists based on the last numbers I jotted down, naively sure I would get paid eventually.) I lost a lot of money doing that convention.

It wasn't a dead loss - I did get to have my birthday dinner with Larry Elmore! And I met Christine! I even sold well, considering the abysmal attendance.

But that convention... was a loss of innocence for me.

I would never believe that way again.

In 2001, I was on top of the world. I was going to go to a big convention in the lower 48 and Make It Big. The world would know my name, and I would share this starry optimism to every up and coming artist that I could. There were talents out there that deserved this chance - and I would be able to give it to them.

I was so sure that this would be IT.

There were things that came later that filled the same role of hope and disappointment: Ken Whitman's POD service, the assistant who was going to move up and make the business manageable, Dragon*Con, order fulfillment, some of the webmasters I hired... but nothing ever had that same, amazing, glowing-eye optimism. Each hit that I took, each failure I rolled with, each disappointment I tucked under my belt and called experience... each one takes its toll. I would never be capable of believing that way again.

In 2009, I'm still convinced that the world will know my name.

Having a day job to pay my bills is not the shame I feared it would be, and I love being able to go buy a New Car when my old one fails without wondering what I have to give up for it. I love having my own art budget, and being able to commission artwork directly. I adore the idea of having more time for my own art instead of making products and filling orders, not caring if it sells or not, only creating for the joy of it.

The business projects I have in mind have more potential than the giftshop ever did, and match much more closely with my personal non-material less-material lifestyle choices. I'll be able to pay my artists more than I could with little royalties on cheap products. Don't think for a moment that I'm not determined and optimistic about my future, or that I've given up in any way.

But that raw belief, that beautiful, thrilling excitement for the future - I love to see that in other people. I want to nurture it, and encourage it, and protect people from the horrible crushing disappointment it can lead to. That's a lot of what I've always wanted to do with EMG.

Me personally? I'll never believe that way again.

Comments

[mersades.livejournal.com]

That was also my first convention, and I remember just being completely disappointed. I remember looking around at the depressingly empty room and wondering what happened. Sadly, I think that first experience also kept me from dishing out the money to try camping out at a real con. Who knows, maybe one day I'll try.

I'm glad you're still optimistic! I'm getting mine back again. . . it's such a priceless emotion that one should cling stubbornly to!

[valdary.livejournal.com]

(hugs)
I learned a long time ago that you could never take for granted that any company or proffessional person would be even basically competent. What it can do for you is give you a shining example of what not to do, and what pitfalls to avoid.

If you ever decide to set up a seminar on customer service I will give you a written recommendation. Your business and sites may have had their problems but your clients and customers have always been told clearly exactly what the problems were and what you were doing about them. Even when there were problems with your host there have always been alternative methods of contacting you. I would dearly like to send the staff at my bank and utility companies to you for lessons on how to deal with their customers.

[mothie.livejournal.com]

You know what you sound like? A seasoned professional. ;-]

My husband started a medical software company 15 years ago, and I remember those starry-eyed days. We were going to be rich. ;- j Well...we're still eating, and we replace the occasional car, but success is hard won. (My husband still wants to change the world, but he no longer has those pesky stars in his eyes.)

Good luck to you. :-]

[vestaka.livejournal.com]

*hugs tightly* I remember that moment too. Mine was a company I was going to start with my best friend. We had a fantastic idea, a wonderful product that people wanted to line up to buy. No one else was doing it, we were going to burst out on the scene and it was going to be *awesome*.

Then I discovered I was the only one with business sense, deadlines weren't met, little things kept falling by the wayside. The final blow was after a year of dilly dallying, another company came out with what we were working on and that was it. Eventually I ended up leaving the partnership because it wasn't going to work.

*hugs* I think we all have that moment, and then grow from it. I still have moments when I'm certain I'll be okay and make money off of what I do, but it's not the same thing. You can't protect people from their hopes and dreams, all you can do is just be there and be supportive.

[ryokomusouka.livejournal.com]

You sounds like a parent, my dear. :D

[pixiewildflower.livejournal.com]

**HUGS**

[uneide.livejournal.com]

Nothing quite that first, absolute conviction and hope - and the loss of innocence that generally follows. I've become jaded from the knocks, so I can understand you well.

I miss my innocence, now and then. I miss that absolute certainty of wild success, the boundless open sky of opportunity.

That being said - I find that I value more the small successes, building slowly and steadily towards what I hoped for, and am happy to help those that I can along the way.

Can't wait to see what else you have in store for us, my dear. <3

[toeknuckles.livejournal.com]

funny you posted this today. i was thinking a similar thing just last night. i joined the online art community when epilogue was in full swing and the NMoF was still new. the mIRC channel was active and i got to talk with some artists who i'd admired forever. i felt like everything was moving, and i was being swept up in the wave. i was 'going somewhere'.
now i'll never have the enthusiasm for a commission that i did my first one. a lot of artists from that time have cooled off and don't seem to do so much art anymore.
i joined the scene much later than you did, but somehow it feels like an age of disillusionment, you know? will it correct itself when people have disposable incomes again? i don't know. but it's kinda sad.

[coldtortuga.livejournal.com]

Sounds like you just finished a PhD. The upside is a rock-solid "know thyself".

[natsunekko.livejournal.com]

Doesn't the world know your name? I mean... /I/ know your name, and we live worlds apart from each other, and I'm not even active in the fantasy or fandom online forums and communities.

And, even though you're not going to be doing the EMG thing, I'm still going to be following your work and projects.