This year’s World Fantasy Con might be the best time I’ve had at a con ever, so now that a week and a half has passed and I’ve managed to carve out a spare half hour, I figured I’d write a bit about why.

Conventions are all about community, bringing together people to share their creativity and enthusiasm. You get to meet up with friendly, fascinating folks who you normally only see online, listen to people talk about their areas of interest and expertise, and browse some of the great books by small publishers who don’t have the reach to get into big bookshops, but whose work is some of the community’s most creative output. What’s not to love?

Because it was based in Brighton this year and combined with Fantasy Con, WFC 2025 was dominated by the British fantasy community, which is to say my people. I’ve been attending cons in this country for over a decade, and the more I go, the more connected I feel to that community. I know more people. I know them better. I’ve shared their ups and downs, the triumphs and disappointments, the late night bar chats about the failings of publishers and who should play Dr Who.

This is the biggest reason why I encourage sffh people to attend conventions – the chance to be part of that community. Every time I turned around, there was some friend or acquaintance I hadn’t caught up with yet, and I met some fantastic new people too. As someone who gets a buzz out of socialising, it really lifted me up.

This one was spearheaded by Karen Fishwick, who’s been running conventions for years and has built up a team of experienced veterans working on all parts of the operation. It showed. No convention is ever going to run perfectly, but if there were any major controversies or crises, I missed them.

The hotel we were in, and the way it was used, created some drawbacks and some things that worked really well. Dealers struggled from being on a floor away from everything else, which damaged their critical convention trade, and I hope that’s something con runners will learn from for future years. On the other hand, the big socialising area worked really well, providing plenty of space for people to mingle whether they were drinking, eating, or just hanging out. It was the social side that gets referred to as barcon, but without the crowded, noisy space and problem drinking that can come with a bar.

The panels were varied and interesting. Some covered the familiar topics for relatively new attendees, some touched on less-discussed areas such as the crafting of prose. While I saw (and took part in) some single gender panels, the panel schedule in general seemed relatively balanced, and it felt like everyone who wanted to have their voice heard had a chance. I went to a bunch of book launches for friends and folks I admire, picked up several books that were already on my list and plenty more that weren’t, and generally enjoyed it all.

Brighton’s pretty cool. Even without walking more than ten minutes from the venue, I got to eat in cool coffee shops, have vegan fish and chips, and share nice dinners out. The walk along the seafront was bracing and beautiful. The burned out remains of the old pier have a haunted air that was perfect for the occasion, just outside the hotel.

On the last night, I stopped on the beach on my way home and enjoyed watching the waves under the moonlight. It was a perfect moment.

Then a lifeguard showed up to make sure I wasn’t a drunk idiot about to drown myself at midnight. Bless you Brighton, you’re clearly a city that cares.

My perception of all of this is biased by the fact that it was a particularly good con for me.

Though Walking a Wounded Land isn’t my first book, this was my first in-person launch event, and I had a great time with that – one of those “I’m a real author now” moments.

I enjoyed both my panels, one on dragons and the other on sword and sorcery, which were fun conversations with good questions from the audience.

And on Saturday night, I got to read from my new book. Unfortunately, the room was next door to a wedding disco, so I ended up reading a solemn tail of landscape and grief over some disco beats, but people liked it enough to go buy copies the next day. And as well as fellow Yorkshire author Charlotte Goodwin, I shared the slot with Amal El-Mohtar, so I met her and listened to her reading, which was a pleasure in itself.

I can’t objectively say that this was the best convention ever. I wouldn’t even want to. I sincerely hope that next year’s Fantasy Con is even better, and so on for the following year, and the one after that, as the community grows and the con runners build up institutional knowledge and experience. But it was probably the most I’ve enjoyed a convention so far, and I’ve come home energised to write.

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