This is a historical document. If you're interested in what Minicon is like now, you should visit the main Minicon page and follow the links there to read about recent and upcoming Minicons.
This proposal is obsolete and was not accepted by the Minn-stf Board. It differs significantly from the accepted proposal. For official, accurate information about Minicon 34, please visit the Minicon 34 webpage.
The High-Resolution Minicon
A Proposal to the Minicon 34 Exec Selection Committee and the Minn-StF Board
This document derives from the original proposal by the High Resolutionary Council by way of editing by Martin Schafer for the Exec Selection Committee.
We'd very much like your opinions on our ideas about Minicon.
Introduction
In 1991, Minn-StF acted on long-standing dissatisfaction with the state of Minicon by chartering the Long Range Convention Task-Force to investigate future paths. Their report was duly rendered, considered by the Board and the club, and acted on. The chosen action was to attempt to run the Big Minicon better than we had been doing.
That was six years ago.. Minicon has continued to grow, but its quality has declined and the personal cost to committee and volunteers has skyrocketed. Each year several departments teeter on the brink of disaster, eroding our reserve of goodwill among fans and Minicon attendees, and requiring heroic efforts from already overstrained committee members to attempt to rescue them.
This can't go on. Some year soon, by a statistical cluster of internal failures, or due to an external cause entirely beyond our control, we'll all go over the edge together. Minn-StF, its members, and its officers cannot afford for this to happen. This proposal is our suggestion of how to stop it.
The Problem
Six years ago, Minn-StF acted on the long-standing dissatisfaction with the state of Minicon by chartering the Long Range Convention Task-Force to investigate future directions. Their report was duly rendered, considered by the Board and the club, and a decision was made to try to run a "Big Minicon," an excellent, well-focused, large convention. After six years, Minicon continues to display the very issues of over-crowding, committee burn-out, and departmental catastrophe that prompted the chartering of the task force. This document offers a proposal which will attempt to address these issues.
The task-force identified a lack of common vision for Minicon, which the "Big Minicon" proposal was intended to address. Instead, this problem has increased in the last five years. Minicon is more like the "Revolving Bid Committees" proposal that encouraged different visions for each Minicon by substantial changes in committees each year; but it has not provided those Minicons with discernibly different--or even discernible--visions. Since committees are staffed by anyone who is willing to do the work, rather than by a group with common goals for Minicon, it's an agglomeration of components with little or no clear direction. As the "Big Minicon" proposal itself warned, "The greatest enemy of the large convention is bland mediocrity. " Without a cohesive vision, Minicon is pitched to the least common denominator. We believe that Minicon's focus should be deliberate and considered, not random.
We believe our focus should be on written science fiction and fantasy and the fannish community that sprang from it. By providing "something for everyone," Minicon has ceased to provide a supportive community for proto- and neofen,. The current model develops Minicon fans, who come to Minicon year after year, but doesn't develop--and may drive away, given the lack of Minicon focus on the community built around science fiction and fandom--new science fiction fans. We burn-out Minn-StF members running Minicon, and we fail to recruit new Minn-Stf members by running it. Our current "street fair" model is not only risking Minn-StF's future financially, but the health of its membership as well.
We propose to focus on written science fiction and fantasy and science fiction fandom, and exercise editorial control over all of what goes on officially at the convention. We don't propose to limit Minicon's size by capping its membership, but we will strenuously encourage informed self-selection among its members. We will arrange clear, widespread publicity--at Minicon 33 and throughout fandom--so that all stakeholders are aware of the change and able to make informed decisions about attending.
We feel strongly that there needs to be substantial discussion with all stakeholders about this proposal: to allow them to help us identify and fix flaws in our initial planning, and to educate them about what we're doing and why. This is important not only to allow members to decide whether they're interested in our Minicon, but to clarify to our committee members and potential committee members what we are working toward. The Minicon community, of which the committee is one part, is already deeply divided about what is good and bad about Minicon. Making clear policy decisions will at least allow people to understand what is being done and why, and to make their decisions accordingly.
This proposal offers a radical redesign of Minicon. We believe that Minn-StF recognized the need for a radical analysis of Minicon when the Long Range Convention Task-Force was chartered. We believe that the last six years have shown that the selection of the "Big Minicon" model did not provide changes sufficiently radical to address the problems that persist in plaguing Minicon, its committee, and Minn-StF. We believe that Minn-StF must address these problems, or risk its own financial and organizational viability. We request the opportunity to attempt to address these problems, and we commit ourselves to helping to find solutions.
All of the authors of this document have strong feelings about Minicon: what it is, where it's going, and what it should be. Personal statements from many of the authors are included to provide some context for this proposal and their part in it.
Personal Statements
Lydia Nickerson
I came up to Minicon the usual way: by car. (I managed to avoid the volcano.) There were a bunch of us in Iowa City, and every year, a bunch of us drove the six hours to Minneapolis. We had our own convention, Icon. It was a gem, a sweet little local convention. Icon was scheduled for October so as to be half a year away from the magnificent behemoth which is Minicon. One convention a year isn't enough, however, to someone starving in the wilderness. Iowa, tame and flat as it is, was a wilderness for me. Empty, scary, with prowling growling rednecks.
It's hard to explain how important Minicon, or fandom, was. It's all tangled up in a past life which, in retrospect, scares the hell out of me. I saved my own life, in the end, but fandom was an integral part of my redemption. People who weren't necessarily Christians, weren't normal, didn't value a completely unexamined morality, who--god help us all--thought! After a lifetime in Fundamentalist Christianity, fandom was clear water in the desert. It was more than home, more than family. It was salvation. Oh, and it was also sex. Don't underestimate the power of good sex.
Getting to Minicon every year was an adventure. What with flunking out of college due to depression, and living with an alcoholic, and being disowned by my family, I was very poor--okay, very poor by middle class white standards. Twenty dollars of disposable money was a marvelous luxury for me. Somehow, I made it to Minicon every year. (I did miss one year: I had a fever of 103, I had been throwing up for a week, and my husband wouldn't let me go.)
Fandom was a safe place. I don't mean that nothing bad ever happened, but the bad things were rare. I ended up at a Minicon in the early 80's with almost no money and no place to crash. I think I had $20, total, for food and books. (As I recall, I bought a book and 3 hamburgers that weekend.) Knowing I had no place to sleep, I packed a backpack with a couple of changes of underwear, a book to read, and basic toiletries. Friday, I stashed the backpack in the back of a closet in one of the rooms on the smoking side of the Radisson consuite.
I was worried, not about someone stealing my stuff, but about being accused of taking more resources from the convention than I was entitled to. Of being a parasite. I couldn't think how to manage Minicon. I wasn't good at asking for favors; pride and shame interfered. So, by default, I decided to simply stay awake for the weekend. Ah--you can kind of guess at the results. I was young, but I wasn't that young. I was also, being young, ignoring a slight cold and fever. It was a marvelously fever-bright, fraught experience.
I snuck a shower at 6 am on Saturday. No one was in the smoking side of the consuite, I think there may have been 5 people, total, on the 22nd floor. I reasoned that I wasn't tying up any resources that anyone wanted, and smelling like a camel was not a kindness to the other people in the elevator. The day was colored with exhaustion, low blood sugar, fever, and delight. I was never so happy. Alone, amongst friends. I wasn't terribly coherent, and tried not to get into conversations. But I loved listening. Everywhere, people talking, talking about things that were interesting, or silly, usually both. Gentle drunks and manic punsters. My people. My friends.
Physiology caught up with me somewhere around 2 am on Sunday morning. The music party was still going strong in the smoking consuite. I was too tired and too stupid to venture into a room full of strangers. I went to one of the bedrooms adjacent to the parlor and lay down on the bed. I was delighted to discover that they were playing music by Jefferson Airplane, rather than filk. Even more delightful, they were good. Really good. It did not surprise me then, though it did, later. At the time, it seemed like an inevitable perfection. I didn't sleep. Of course not! But I drifted away on music beautiful, real, intense, and somehow intimately mine, though I didn't know a single one of the players. It wove intricate patterns of light. Perhaps that was my one glimpse of Indra's net. I don't remember sleeping or waking, but four hours later, there was no music, and I felt weary and refreshed at once. I napped a bit more, dreaming of music and light, and then it was time for the long ride home. I collected my backpack from the back of a closet, and went looking for my ride. (Thank you, Fred. That was you playing in the other room. And thank you, Steven. That was you, too. I didn't know either of you, either by face or reputation, that year. But that's when I met you, though you didn't meet me, and when you gave me something so precious I treasure it still.)
Looking back, there are two things that stand out in my mind. One is the lack of fear. I worried, a little, about my backpack being taken; I was not afraid of molestation. The other thing that stands out is the intense feeling of belonging. For all that I didn't know most of the people, and didn't feel up to conversation for most of the weekend, I felt like I was a part of what was going on. Finally, I had come home.
Times change, and so do people. It's hard to say who's changed more in the last decade, Minicon or myself. Looking at the consuite as it is now, I find it hard to believe that I could leave something in a closet there. And while I am widely known to be able to sleep through anything, I don't know that I could fall asleep in the consuite. Maybe this is just reasonable caution which comes with age. It doesn't feel like it, though. It feels like Minicon has changed. And, oh, but I miss the music in the consuite.
A couple of years ago, I found out I wasn't a troubleshooter. I wish I'd found that out before I did a shift as troubleshooter. In the consuite on the 22nd floor, I found a gentleman badgering a young lady in tears. In the process of trying to discover if there was anything useful to be done, the gentleman threatened to kill me. He was upset because his girl had kissed the wrong boy. I found that I was out of my depth in two dimensions. The threat of physical violence was baffling. This is why I shouldn't be a troubleshooter. But the cause of his distress was even more confusing. Kissed the wrong boy? At a convention? A place where everyone is your friend? I mean, maybe this is cause to drag your beloved off under a staircase and engage in a heart to heart conference. (That's how I spent most of my first convention, Icon V. Yuck!) But the threat of bodily harm, to her and to me, gave me a bad case of cultural shock. He was not my friend.
I don't have any answers, yet. However, I think that refocusing Minicon so that it is both smaller and the attendees have more in common with each other might help rebuild the sense of community and safety that I miss. At very least, I think it's worth the experiment. We've lost so much. Too many of us are either hiding behind closed doors or gone altogether. There has been a lot of self-righteous moaning about how closed parties are killing Minicon. It is my belief that the doors are closed because it stopped being safe in the consuite.
What I have now isn't the home and family of my dreams. It's a lot more like my childhood home and biological family. Minicon has real problems. It is overpopulated, does not have a unifying vision, its politics are dysfunctional, and it is no longer safe. We've tried denial and acceptance as strategies for dealing with these problems. I'd like to try something else, instead. And if this doesn't work, something after that.
Susan B. Levy Haskell
So what's a Minicon supposed to be?
Minicon is a place where folks who have always been ostracized can find community. It's a place where being different, or odd, or socially unskilled, doesn't cost one one's right to be there. In fact, it's just the opposite: we protect & support our own oddballs; no matter how obnoxious, rude, and peculiar, if you're one of us, you belong. It's a place where the folks whose friends in school were books--'cause no one else "got it" or was interested--can find friends & family-by-choice.
The problem is that Minicon's support for differences and "alternative lifestyles" caused us to welcome folks who weren't looking for community--just wanted a place to do their own thing & have a fun time with their friends (many of whom they brought along)--then those of us who came to Minicon for a family reunion discovered that it had been crashed by a bunch of people who simply looked like us. They don't love us. They don't want to know the family stories. They don't care who sawed Courtney's boat. They make fun of our eccentricities & all our peculiar relatives--not that we haven't, but we've never excluded them.
Having crashers at the reunion is lousy, but there's plenty of food, & we've all suffered the pain of being excluded, so what does it hurt? Well, for years it didn't. But now there are so many crashers--some of whom've been coming for years--that many folks don't even realize that it ever was a family reunion. And some of them, I believe, are our family, but have never discovered the connection because they haven't been around when Uncle Roscoe told his stories; or they've been trying to, but haven't been able to find any of the family among the look-alikes. Worse yet, some of our family, who've always come to our reunions, have given up because the crashers think they're odd, or obnoxious, or socially clumsy, and have made them feel unwelcome. And worst of all, some of our relations who missed the little reunions--who grew up twenty years after we did or hadn't heard about 'em, but fit in elsewhere just as well as we did--may be coming to the reunion, never finding the family, and leaving again because it's another place where they don't fit in. And that I consider intolerable.
I'm sympathetic with the folks who've been coming for years and want to keep doing so. They've spent a bunch of years coming to a grand bash, often bringing their friends, and having a wonderful time. They have a tradition of doing so. But I believe that the party that they're having around my family reunion is keeping me from connecting with my family. And it's burning my family out to run a reunion that's become so big & diffuse. So I believe that it's time to remind everyone that this is a family reunion, plan our events around the family, and quit trying to accommodate the folks who aren't interested in being kin. I don't propose that we tell anyone whether they're family or not; let them hear from us what we're doing, and let them decide whether they belong.
David Dyer-Bennet
I feel a bit like Chicken Little. But if those things cratering into the ground around us aren't pieces of the sky, they're something even worse.
I attend Minicon in defensive mode. There's still fun to be had there, but it's no longer available on the surface. It takes place off in corners, and very often in private. Most people I know do the same thing. You don't go to the con suite Saturday night, it's too noisy to talk and there's no interesting music anyway. Stay away from Great Hall Foyer around the masquerade, it's a total zoo. Luckily, friends tell me where the fannish gatherings are, so I can sneak off to the 8th floor of the Plaza Tower, or whatever. I also hang out in the Green Room a lot, semi-legitimately (I'm generally on programming items myself, and so is Pamela), and of course in Minneapolis in 73. Do you do this? Nearly everyone I've asked does.
The real fun at Minicon is no longer out in the open. To survive, it's had to hide itself away, sometimes even behind closed doors. This is bad in a lot of ways, but one of the worst is that it makes it impossible for people new to Minicon to find the real fun. The people who would enjoy the things I enjoy can't find those things. Often, I suspect, they don't come back. Or they decide Minicon is interesting, but not that important to them.
Karen Cooper
I sometimes think of myself as the last Minn-stf member. Oh, I know some new and interesting people have joined the club since I knocked timidly at Pam and David's door in November, 1985. But they are few and far between.
Mostly, new people have been brought in through their own connections to Fandom, such as happened for Lydy and some of the other Iowans. Once in a while, Minn-stf gets a new face from Minicon, like um, erm, there was...well, it does happen sometimes, I'm sure of it.
I've been in love with Minn-STF since we first met, and have tried hard to be as good to the club as it has been to me. I've hosted meetings, been an officer and Board member, and worked on our conventions.
My first convention was Minicon in 1986. It seems impossible to describe the immediate sense of belonging and fun and infinite possibility that overcame me as soon as I walked in the hotel door. You all know what I mean. Folks I knew, friends, were everywhere. The consuite was so crowded with interesting people that I had yet to remember to take off my coat when I'd been there an hour. Nate introduced me to someone from New Mexico--could it have been Bob Vardeman? Fred introduced me to Singer and Dorothy Parker. Don Bindas sat next to me for my Dispatcher shift on the Bridge, and introduced me to Dave Clement and Okanogan cider and the Winnipeg in '94 bid. Ellen Kushner came bouncing up to help make Easter baskets. And so on, all weekend long. Everything was possible, everything was magic, it was all there and real, and I wanted it never to end.
I wanted to help. I offered to run Childcare at the New Year's Party in 1986, and went to one, or perhaps two, Minicon meetings, before the 1987 convention. Those meetings were fun, and I learned so much about the convention--what all the departments did, and how they ran, and all the cool ideas for the upcoming convention. Lots of ideas were tossed around, and much advice was given, before the inevitable cries of "Implementation Detail!" began, and we moved on to the next department. As a team, we valued brevity and levity, and everybody, including the lowly head of Childcare, had a good picture of how the convention was put together.
The years change things, as always. The convention got bigger, and we tried to adapt by making policy changes. People got hurt in the process, and left the committee; some left Minn-Stf and have never been back. These wounds scar over, but they don't seem to heal. The committee got bigger, and could no longer afford the luxury of the open committee meeting with its snail's pace. The bigger committee with all its new faces lost its best access to previous experience, and as meetings became less fun, the fun people went to meetings less often. The repeated need to reinvent the wheel left little time, space, or energy for Crazy Minneapolis Fandom to do what it does best.
The Minicon committee wasn't really Minn-stF's any more, but neither was Minicon. Where the consuite had been Minicon's central meeting place and central party, I could no longer find a familiar face there. The bathtub filled with Twinkies was long, long gone. Instead, my good old friends were hiding themselves away in private parties and creating "Fortress Roscoe." We make our little enclaves by hiding from the rest of the convention. We scoot quickly through the hallways from one haven to the next as we avoid the loud, rowdy crowds. Our little corners of civility become smaller with each passing year. And our good new friends cannot find us.
And out in the greater convention, no one is accountable. Our loose, flexible community standards, as far from codified as they are, are being shredded by obnoxious behavior, the debate on appropriate dress, and ever-growing crowds that have no interest in Fandom. Within the committee, problems include budgets run amuck, grandstanding, and empire-building. Departments limping their way through the weekend has become the norm. We cannot congratulate ourselves on a convention well-run, as we used to--now we heave a sigh of relief that we have survived another Minicon.
There is no doubt that science fiction has become mainstream. Lots and lots of people have discovered SF, found it to be a participatory genre, and leapt in head first. There appear to have been many brain injuries in the process. Nevertheless, the Fandom that created Minicon and all the fannish conventions like it is the Fandom that I love. It is my heart's home and my family. It is still there, under the noise, and spilled beer, and the pile of burned ashes of the dollars we've wasted. I'd like very much to uncover it, and nurture it, and let it flourish again. I want the magic back.
Alice Bentley
In The Beginning (for me) Minicon was a crowded, comfy car ride with Best Friends, some of whom I had not met before. It was reliably running into other people who liked to toss around ideas, and who had read a lot of the same stuff I had--and best yet a lot of stuff I had not yet read. Minicon was a convention where an extra hand was always welcomed, and sometimes needed.
I like what we have now as well, it's kind of cool to see how media fandom has exploded, I remember a similar rush at the 1975 Star Trek Con in Chicago. And it's nice to see a lot of younger people clearly finding a place that they find comfy and secure (or they probably wouldn't have been making out on the couch in the con suite).
But in balancing the two experiences, then (1976 was my first, and I think I've only missed one since) and now, I find I really miss quite a number of things I enjoyed before. I would like to reasonably expect that everyone would have a shared interest in written science fiction. I felt more comfortable when people chipped in on the chores--sure it's good that it's someone's responsibility to see that it gets done, but it shouldn't be such a shock to ask people to help. I also miss being able to trivially bop around within Minneapolis, we still make our excursions but it's not similar to just jaunting out for a meal or a browse.
Although I've worked a number of other conventions, including Worldcon, I've only ever gofered at Minicon, and usually without "official" arrangement. I can't realistically attend MNStF meetings or concom meetings, but I would still be happy to volunteer to help with the convention in whatever capacity the concom found useful.
Minicon has the resources, the size, the sheer critical mass to pull off things only Worldcon could touch--and the vision and idealism to want to make them happen. Worldcon is a one-shot every time. Minicon has been able to use its continuity of people and purpose to develop not only the sense of discovery and adventure that we can find at many conventions but the feeling of homecoming, of family, even though these are all people you are just meeting.
As each new batch of people get involved, I see the same cycle of problem identification and solution discussion. For the last several years now, the choice has been to take the easiest path, the least bumpy road--after all, this is supposed to be fun; disappointing or aggravating even a few people is definitely not fun (to say nothing of huge crowds to them). To this outsider, it seems like the time has more than come to make a few of the hard choices--realign the convention to match the enthusiasm of people that you most want to be there instead of the largest number of reasonably content people.
And I would be happy to help.
Geri Sullivan
(Provocative title goes here)
Over the past two years, I've written thousands and thousands of words regarding my concerns, beliefs, and attitudes about Minicon. Most of those words have been in messages sent to the Minicon List and are readily available for review through the archives, but here's a 600-word summary to save you the trouble.
Simply put, I believe the following: 1. We have repeatedly demonstrated that Minicon has grown beyond the size and scope of our abilities to manage and run it effectively. While there have been good Minicons during the past 8-10 years, each has been accomplished at the expense of our volunteers, especially exec members and department heads.
2. Things have fallen to the point where we're regularly hurting committee members. They are responding by burning out and leaving in record numbers. It used to be that for any given Minicon, one major department would be on the verge of collapse. These days, rare is the department that isn't on the edge. Even the simple act of working together on the convention isn't building community as it once did. We've devolved to argumentative, department-based empires. Blecch.
Instead of attracting neos and showing them what fun it is to create the wondrous, mythic beast that is a Minicon, we're pushing inexperienced volunteers off the high dive without even checking to see if the pool is filled. All too often, we're even giving those who bellyflop in spectacular fashion chance after chance after chance, simply because "she's the only one who volunteered."
3. It's easy to point at one year, or one thing, and say, "yes, that was a problem, but we're fixing it." Especially when we have a year like Minicon 32, where the exec, treasury, registration, publications, and programming all experienced major failures while operations, parties, and hotel each failed to measure up to basic community expectations. But Thomas Juntunen is not the first exec member to crash and burn. And significant problems are already emerging on the Minicon 33 committee. Our efforts to manage what we've become continue to fall short of what Anne Gay recently described as "the great beauty and majesty of it all."
As Bruce Pelz wrote to me before Minicon 31, "Minicon has had a Basic Problem--too few (competents) trying to do too much for too many (attendees + incompetents)--has been paid lip service for years now. You (collective) need rather sweeping analyses (plural) and recommendations, preferably from any previously available competents who are no longer available but are still competent."
4. Minicon has lost most of the fannish cachet we once enjoyed throughout fandom. Our consuite and operations bridge were once recruiting tools. Now they're places to avoid. The few things that still attract trufans to Minicon are being drowned out by the lack of civility and community that dominates the convention.
5. It's become harder and harder to meet people at Minicon, especially people with whom we might form lasting relationships. Minicon du jour also fails to strengthen existing relationships. For example, there's nothing at Minicon that celebrates the multitude of connections between Minneapolis and Winnipeg fandom, or even helps us find each other.
6. The problems aren't just inside the Minicon committee. The Minn-stf Board has failed to take appropriate action several times over. Minicon finances have floundered and a bad exec was left in place even after the Board's directives on the matter were ignored. Minn-stf itself has lost its energy and focus, with longtime members avoiding meetings in droves and newcomers finding little to bring them back.
7. Running something the size and complexity of the current Minicon isn't in our nature. It is simply not something we can do well. We're fans, we're Minneapolis fans. We procrastinate, we don't keep track of things from year to year, we don't pass on information. We used to dance along the path of chaos, but now we mostly stumble, slipping all too often into the mire that surrounds the route. Whew. I'll stop with seven points rather than going for 73. If you want the full 4-part harmony, check the archives or ask me for a print-out.
What's next? Why now?
The problems are many, and striking out in a new direction won't be easy. Our plans for Minicon 34 and beyond won't magically fix things, and following a new path won't mean people stop getting hurt. We've searched long and hard for a clean, pain-free path, but such a path simply doesn't exist. The change we're pursuing will be traumatic, but we must do our best to build a bright and shining new Minicon lest we lose everything we've stood for over the past 30 years. I want to help build a Minicon that contributes mightily to the overall health of fandom, locally, nationally, and internationally. I want to help build a Minicon that is fun to work on and fun to belong to. I want Minicon to reflect the wondrous people we are rather than one that only exposes our warts to the world and leaves evermore of us among the walking wounded.
Why am I willing to throw myself into the chaos that will accompany a major change in Minicon? I think our plan is Minn-stf's and Minicon's best chance to dance along the path of Crazy Minneapolis Fannishness once more. While much of my fanac today takes place in the international arena, I want to help Minneapolis fandom be the best it can possibly be. I want us all to be proud of Minn-stf, Minicon, and the wondrous community that's been so ill-served in recent years.
Beth Friedman
My first Minicon was Minicon 11 in 1976. It was almost my first exposure to science fiction fandom as well. I came in knowing two people and clutching a piece of paper with Karen Johnson's name on it--she was the person the hotel found to share a room at student rates (which I think were $6.50 per night!). The consuite was friendly but overwhelming, and the pivotal moment of the convention for me was when I walked past a room full of people singing, stopped to listen, and they invited me in. I haven't seen most of those people in 20 years, but that room party was when I knew that science fiction fandom was "my crowd."
After graduation (fast-forward through the three awful years where Minicon and MINNEAPA were almost my only relief from the mundania of Cleveland), I moved to Minneapolis and became involved with Minn-stf and Minicon. It's interesting to note, by the way, that at that time there was no differentiation between the Minicon crowd and the Minn-stf crowd.
Over those years Minicon continued to grow. Minicon reorganized its structure (my first years on the concom were the last years of the "working anarchy" model) a couple of times. Meetings became large, tedious, and unwieldy, then either became committee head meetings with restricted attendance or open meetings where no real decisions were made.
I'm not sure when Minicon became the de facto "gathering of the tribes." I'm even less sure when Minicon started becoming the "Minneapolis alternative culture festival." I suspect both of these are a result of the lack of focus that Minicon has experienced in the last several years. I do not like the vision of Minicon as the yearly gathering of SF fandom, media fandom, pagan fandom, BDSM fandom, and technoculture fandom (plus whatever I've forgotten). If this is what Minicon has become, it's been purely by accident, and by a decision to avoid making decisions (which is, of course, itself a decision).
After all, if there's a gathering in one's town that's inexpensive, vaguely related to one's interests, and provides a forum for one's own crowd to meet, it's going to attract a great deal of unfocused attention. I don't think Minicon is trying to be all things to all people, but it appears to be trying to be some things to all people, with the result that it continues to attract more and more of the local unfocused crowd, while losing out-of-towners who find other, more focused, conventions to be more worth their money and time.
I think there's a big difference between striving toward a particular vision, and drifting along because no one is paying attention to where one is going. And I think there's too damned much of that latter with regard to Minicon. That's not evolution or change; that's cancer.
I'm very disappointed at what Minicon is becoming. A number of people have commented that we're not doing any worse than most conventions. That may be true. If so, it's a sad commentary, not on everyone else, but on us. We used to be the best regional convention around-the best consuite, the best operations, and the best publications. Now, all we are is the largest. Frankly, I don't think that's anything to brag about.
Minicon has felt more and more unstable for a number of years. For the last three years, at least one department has either needed a major bailout or has had significant problems at the convention. This year, Minicon had an exec member resign a week before the convention, and lost a substantial sum of money. I think we're burning out our talent at an appalling rate, without anything worthwhile to show for it. I think Minicon needs to decide what it considers important, and prune away the parts that don't look like a Minicon.
I'm pretty sure that Minn-stf's goal was never to run a huge mediocre convention. And that's what I think we're achieving. If we're lucky.
I think Minn-StF can do better.
Steven Brust
Patrick Nielsen Hayden once explained it to me this way: "There are three fannish centers in the country," he said. "Boston, Los Angeles, and Minneapolis. Boston is Law, Los Angeles is Chaos, and Minneapolis is Faerie." I like that. I wish it were still true.
The last two Minicons I've mostly spent making enough money playing poker to pay my hotel bill. This sounds good, but it isn't. I like poker, and it can even, thanks to Mike Glicksohn, be said to be fannish. But it isn't what I want to spend my time doing at Minicon. And I wouldn't, if there were something else to do.
I began attending Minicon at the Leamington, in about 1976 or so. At that time, it was a group of people all throwing a party for each other; now it seems to be a group of people asking others to throw a party for them. The reward for throwing the party was the pleasure of doing a job well, and the pleasure of having your friends appreciate that you did the job well. These days, I see no pleasure at all in helping to throw the party. It would be grand if that changed.
For several years I did recruiting. It was fun, and it was fairly easy, because so many people saw themselves as part of the whole Minicon experience and they wanted to show each other a good time.
For many years I looked forward to the music sessions at Minicon, until it became a choice between being offensively exclusionary and punishing myself by being where I'd druther not be.
One year someone came up with the idea of using the hotel's TV system to put fun, fannish things on. It was cool. It was cheap. I enjoyed turning it on occasionally. Now it is horribly expensive and high-tech and no one watches it. Somewhere in there it stopped being fannish. Somewhere in there it assumed the form of Law with the essence of Chaos and no trace of Faerie whatsoever.
Minicon has never been known for outstanding programming, and that's all right as far as I'm concerned; but I do remember when panels produced more conversation than how you had been double-booked at a time you had said you were unavailable for two panels you had said you didn't want to be on.
I don't know if there is any way to go back to all that, but if we try, I'll work on the convention again. I can play poker the rest of the year; in Faerie, playing music seems more appropriate.
Fred A. Levy Haskell
It is said that the Neofan approached the Secret Master and asked, "What is the meaning of Minicon?" Whereupon the Secret Master hit the Neofan with a stick.
I believe that I'm in a unique position to view and comment upon Minicon--having been an attending member of all the Minicons so far. (True, there are, to my knowledge, two other people who have been to all the Minicons, but I think that the level and nature of my involvement over the years has been sufficient to make the claim of uniqueness). I've also been to a lot of other conventions throughout the United States and Canada, including some WorldCons, so I have something with which to compare Minicon.
When we first started putting on Minicon, it was a celebration, a way of giving back something to fandom (as we knew it then, and not just locally--internationally), a way of proving our merit for our WorldCon bid, impressing our friends, meeting new friends, spreading the myth... a bunch of different things. It was something "we" did for "us". And the we who were working together on it consisted of more than just those people who happened to be "on the committee" that year--we all pulled together to make Minicon a good place to be.
Lately it appears that the prevailing view is that some "we" is putting on Minicon for some "they"; and, further, that everybody is pulling in different directions rather than together.
My "bright and shining new Minicon" will be a karass, not a granfalloon. It will be made up of people who, if they don't already know the meaning and the location of the first use of those words, at least stand some chance of stumbling across it some day.
It is said that the Neofan approached the Secret Master and asked, "What is the meaning of Minicon?" Whereupon the Intergalactic Squash descended from space and stomped them before either could say another word.
Time was, when a mundane friend or acquaintance would, for one reason or another, ask me what "Minicon" was, I'd trot out that old: "A party with (a couple hundred ... a thousand ... fifteen hundred ... a couple thousand) of my closest and most intimate friends." This, of course, is one of those "explanations" that only explain to those who already know, so I'd then try to expand on that statement and relate Minicon to things they might understand.
Well, there's alcohol there, but the similarity between Minicon and a kegger begins and ends there. The liquor is used as a social and conversational lubricant, but the similarity between Minicon and a cocktail party begins and ends there. There's lots of music there, but the similarity between Minicon and a coffeehouse or a concert begins and ends there. People of both sexes meet and or become better acquainted and sometimes even end up in bed with each other, but the similarity between Minicon and a frat party begins and ends there. We have and attend panel discussions, but the similarity between Minicon and an academic or professional conference begins and ends there. Some of us wear funny hats, but the similarity between Minicon and a Shriners' convention begins and ends there. Finally, odd things have been known to turn up in the swimming pool at a Minicon, but they tended to be weather balloons--not television sets....
Unfortunately, none of this seems to be as true about Minicon any more--there's a lot more similarity between Minicon and all those other things than there once was, and I'm not comfortable or happy with that.
It is said that the Neofan approached the Secret Master and asked, "What is the meaning of Minicon?" Whereupon the Secret Master ate a pickle and smiled.
By the time I was done, I had walked all around it and had done a pretty good job of explaining what Minicon wasn't, but still hadn't done a good job of explaining what it was. That seems to remain ineffable. And that's a pretty good point to make--it may sound a bit like I'm saying "Minicon should be like it was," when that's not really what I'm saying at all. But it's the same problem again--I'm having to define what I want it to be mostly in terms of what I don't want it to be. To do otherwise would be scruting the inscrutable; f-ing the ineffable....
Added to that is that even if I start explaining what Minicon is to me, it's a lot like that old story of the five blind men trying to determine what an elephant is. That is to say, there are a number of conflicting perceptions which are, nevertheless, "correct," or, at very least, accurate.
It is said that the Neofan approached the Secret Master and asked, "What is the meaning of Minicon?" Whereupon the Secret Master turned and ran away without uttering a word.
In the old days, I would sometimes meet people other than through fandom who would come over to visit. Upon seeing my library (in the dining room) they would say: "Wow! That's an awful lot of books! Have you actually read all of those books? I haven't read a book since I got out of High School." It seems to me that more and more of the people I encounter at Minicon would make these same statements....
It is said that the Neofan approached the Secret Master and asked, "What is the meaning of Minicon?" Whereupon the Neofan hit the Secret Master with a stick.
The Proposal
Our basic philosophy is to focus in on the core of science fiction fandom, which is fandom itself and the written science fiction and fantasy that spawned it. We will emphasize quality over quantity.
We will not institute a membership cap, but will attempt to reduce size selectively, by carefully editing the convention and encouraging self-selection among the members. We will arrange extensive, clear, and widespread publicity, starting at Minicon 33, saying that Minicon 34 will be different. There will be heavy publicity aimed at fandom beyond the twin cities to attract more fans. In all our publications, we will do our best to explain to all fans, from First Fandom to Middle School kids, from fans who have never attended a Minicon to fans who have attended all of them, and from professional writers to the rawest neo, just what it is that we are doing, so that they can make an informed decision whether or not they would enjoy our Minicon.
For this to work, we need a commitment from the Board that the goal of a smaller, more focused, and much better run Minicon will be carried forward beyond Minicon 34. We, in turn, commit ourselves to more than a single year of involvement.
Many of the changes suggested here grow out of changes already begun by the Minicon 33 committee. We feel that change needs to happen faster and be more radical. In particular we feel that the job of running the convention must become simpler and that this requires the convention to shrink. Minicon 33's focus on better management is not enough, by itself.
Committee Structure
I find I cannot actually draft a paragraph describing the leadership as that feels still too much up in the air to me. Among the suggestions on the floor seem to be: DD-B or somebody else as coordinator the members of this proposal as a policy making body, DD-B or Martin Schafer or somebody else as coordinator, major department heads possibly with some additions as a policy making body, an exec composed of for example geri sullivan, Martin Schafer, DD-B, and Erik Baker, with the committee as a whole being more involved in policy making decisions, the way they used to be. Other mix and match variations are possible.
We must create more opportunity for productive discussion with the stakeholders in Minicon. We need to have actual discussion on issues where there are significant differences. This is necessary both to find and fix flaws in our initial planning, and to educate others on why we're doing what we're doing.
Everybody working on Minicon must understand the vision and work towards it. Department heads should not think "what is best for this department". They should think "what is best for Minicon". We do not wish to have departments compete for resources; we want the committee to figure out what's best for the convention.
The Minicon community, of which the committee is one part, is already very deeply divided over what is good and what is bad about Minicon. Adopting this proposal will cause many shifts, with some people choosing to become more active, and others choosing to become less active. Making a clear and definite policy decision will at least allow people to know what is being done and why, and let them decide accordingly.
We will try to create more opportunities for the committee to socialize with itself and with other fans. To be successful, many of the changes we are attempting need a level of trust that can only exist if we have a sense of each other as people as well as our functional role. Also, we have demonstrated repeatedly that we are allergic to the formal tools of communication needed in a large organization of relative strangers. We must have fora in which to engage in frequent informal contact in order for vital communication to occur.
We will have a series of open work parties during the year. Departments need to identify jobs that can be accomplished by a group of uninformed people without a lot of supervision. This is an ideal way of making use of the friendly strangers, who volunteer to help us each year, whom we never get back to. Working together over a mailing, or whatever, helps break down the wall of strangeness that gets in the way of our asking these people to help on other tasks.
Departmental Discussions
Operations
Operations is an especially critical department for any greatly-changed Minicon. There's a much-greater-than-normal risk of people deliberately causing trouble, plus a greater risk of the committee itself not having planned everything right.
There are significant changes needed in operations. The closed bridge needs to be reopened. The old position of troubleshooters, who had real authority to deal with problems as they came under their hands, needs to be reinstituted, and staffed it with clueful people with the right people skills.
Minicon 33's plan to adopt the worldcon model of intra-committee communications (everyone having everyone's pager number, so most calls don't go through the bridge) will need to be evaluated after the upcoming convention.
Treasury
Treasury is basically simple, if painstaking. You track cash, and you track expenditures against approvals, and you keep records of it all, and you make regular reports. Minicon needs to be much more open with financial figures than it has traditionally been, and department heads and the committee need to get frequent (at least monthly), clear, reports of the current situation.
The "finance" position is probably a good idea. This used to be part of the treasurer's job, but as workloads have increased, the benefits of separating anything separable loom larger and larger.
We will produce, use, and enforce real budgets with sensible and meaningful. We will produce frequent and up-to-date reports to make it possible for departments to stay within their budgets. We will adjust budgets as needed to fit reality; but the solution to a problem is not to ignore the budget, it's to fix it.
Hucksters' Room
We would like a Hucksters' Room with used, out-of-print, small press, and collectible books: books that can't be found in every B. Daltons. We would like to see original, fannish craft, such as Darlene Coltrain's or Giovanna Fregni's jewelry. We would give the head of Hucksters the authority to select hucksters, and backup to address complaints. The head should recruit hucksters who sell items that enhance the focus and vision of Minicon 34. The recruitment, however, should never extend to offering free memberships or rooms.
Programming
We will run programming on the "editorial" model, in which the job of the department is to assemble a mix of high-quality programming items that meet our goals.
This will mean considerably less programming. It will mean fewer "main-stage" or "extravaganza" events--certainly no masquerade, but possibly some new item to really feature the guests to the members. With the smaller convention and fewer main-stage events, there will be no need for a convention television channel on the hotel system. These changes will save a lot of moneyError! Reference source not found..
Parties
Hospitality is the key to a Minicon in the grand Minn-StF tradition. Much of that feeling comes from the work of the parties department. Our hospitality areas will emphasize conversational space, where people can get to know each other and have those fascinating late-night conversations you remember 10 years later.
People have different requirements for conversations, so we will provide spaces with different atmospheres (oxygen only; provision will also be made for the nicotine-breathers) to serve people with different preferences. At this time the Radisson does not have facilities for chlorine- or methane-breathers. We will investigate the facilities in other hotels, but so far Minicon receives very few registration inquiries from such entities.
One particularly difficult problem is the level of ambient noise throughout the garden court area. The frequent mention of good conversation during the recent Minicon visioning exercise confirms our belief that this is at the core of what makes Minicon Minicon. Activities such as the drum jam and the rave that have serious noise spill over need to be limited or eliminated.
So many of the reported incidents of incivility seem to center around the bar, that I belive we need to look seriously at our alcohol policy. Whether we maintain the assembly line bar, stop serving beer in the consuite, or come up with a compromise to limit it, should be an issue on the table.
Registration
Checks must be cashed, confirmation cards sent promptly, and new addresses made available for other Minicon and Minn-StF mailings in a timely fashion.
It is an important part of registration's job to know how many memberships have been sold and how many people are present at the convention, and to report this information to the committee regularly, both before and during the convention.
Art Show
We want to begin moving the show from one that is dominated by photomechanical prints, with essentially no original work by national name artists, to one composed largely of originals, with a good proportion of first-rate work by new and established artists.
Reaching this goal will take some time. There are circular dependencies--major artists don't send originals here, because this isn't a convention major art buyers attend. And why should they, since there isn't any major art for sale here?
As a beginning, we will sharply restrict photomechanical prints in the show (they're perfectly welcome in the hucksters' room, and we'll probably continue the print shop as well). We will publicize this change, and seek advice from others on how best to bootstrap the process of becoming a major art show again.
Publications
Publications will have a very heavy load to carry, since we need to make clear to all potential members what changes are being made to the convention. We will also be doing considerable out-of-town publicity to attract back fans who used to come to Minicon from far away, and reach new members who would like the changes.
The words they contain are the real content, but the appearance of publications is important,. Bad appearance deters reading in various ways, and interferes with communication. Publications costs have risen dramatically over the last 5 years; they can probably be driven down again.
Hotel
Our changes will require careful coordination with the Radisson and Sofitel. We have contracts with both hotels through 1999, and 2000 needs to be locked down soon or the hotels may not be available.
It is particularly important that our members understand accurately how room allocation decisions are made. We will continue to control allocation of the main hospitality space (in the Radisson, this means the poolside cabanas and the suites). The purpose of controlling it is to affect the hospitality atmosphere at the convention.
This proposal is obsolete and was not accepted by the Minn-stf Board. It differs significantly from the accepted proposal. For official, accurate information about Minicon 34, please visit the Minicon 34 webpage.
[Minn-StF] [Minicon] [Minicon 34]
Last modified Monday, 15-Sep-97 01:22:26 CDT.
David Dyer-BennetThis is a historical document. If you're interested in what Minicon is like now, you should visit the main Minicon page and follow the links there to read about recent and upcoming Minicons.