My First Artist Alley Experience

I started doing Artist Alleys at conventions ages ago, I think in the early 2000's. I'd done convention staffing before, but never an Artist's Alley. My first one was at Acen, back when I was a staffer for the con and had begun dabbling in the Anime and Manga art style as more than just a passing hobby.

Someone had suggested to me for some reason to get an AA table for the weekend on top of my staff duties, which all took place at night. That was the LAST time that I listened to that particular friend, for obvious reasons. I think I slept something like six hours in four days. I remember crying on the way home because I was so tired that I felt some jamoke did me complete injustice by cutting me off getting off the expressway. That was the ONLY time I actually fell asleep with my feet on the floor and my head face down in the matress.

Rule 1: ALWAYS heed the con rules, and EAT, SLEEP, and BATHE REGULARLY. For the love of god. It's hard enough selling artwork without looking like a brit with a cricket bat is going to bash your head in because you're wandering around mumbling about 'brains' all weekend.

I was fortunate that weekend. I walked in to the large area where Acen was to have their AA that year, the long corridor just outside of main programming. Big windows, loads of tables. Now, mind you, this was before they did registration for the tables. It was, literally, a free for all. I showed up with a backpack full of supplies and a sketchbook, and sat around in a circle with a bunch of other aspiring artists, chatting for several hours as we waited for the 'first come first serve' tables to become available. Fortunately for me, I was with a very honest, good hearted group who all wanted me to get a table, so they let me go up right away.

I wound up even more fortunately right next to Studio Ironcat, otherwise known as the former company of Steve Bennett. Steve would later become a friend, and someone whom I'm glad to say has become one of the folks I adore running into a cons, because I don't get much chance to see them outside of shows, if at all. Con families rule. So here on one side, I had this pillar of fandom who had a gaggle of fangirls surrounding his table at all times.

On the other side of me was a young lady whom I still chat with on occasion by the name of Tani. We still chat via livejournal and a few other spots, though I rarely see her these days in person. (check her stuff out. It's cute http://thetani.deviantart.com/) Anyway, Tani, and some of Steve's friends, were kind enough to steer me in the right direction.

I spent that weekend looking around and feeling horribly out of place. Everywhere there were artists with displays and banners, cute little bristol-board characters propped up with little price signs, and tons of supplies. It was a wake up call, and yet it seems so unbelievably far away in my mind that to look around an AA now is like staring at a completely different monster altogether.

It made me understand a few things right off the bat.

*Timing is everything. If you bite off more than you can chew, it bites you in the ass later. This is a rule I still need to remind myself exists sometimes.

*Not all Otaku are kind. Some are downright rude, and despite the fact that you have internationally published work on your table, will utter those famous words "I can draw better than that." My favorite thing to do these days is hand them a sharpie and smile, and then say "Dude, SHOW me! I'd love to learn."

*Constructive criticism doesn't always come at the best times. It's hard to nod and take it when you're surrounded by people who want to buy your stuff, and then one guy can point out that a toe is too big on a character and all of a sudden, the masses scramble for other things.

*Fanart is a start, but in my humble opinion, it's not a way to make a living. Each artist reaches a time when they have to stand on their own two feet. But that's a whole other debate, one that my hubby and I will point/counterpoint at some time in the near future.

*The most important thing of all:

PEOPLE NEED TO REMEMBER TO HAVE FUN IN AN ARTISTS ALLEY! Sure, it's a place of business. And of course you're trying to make the cost back on your table, and network with as many folks as you can. But it doesn't mean you should loose track of what a convention is, of what fandom in general is.

This is something I've had a tough time with. When you decide yes, I am going to make a living drawing in this style, and you break away from the fanart and start working on independant or contract projects, the whole convention scene turns into something very different. It's work.

But I have to remember, also, it's FUN. There is NOTHING in the world I love more than sitting behind my table, drawing something for somebody, and watching them smile, or cry, or watch their eyes light up with joy when they get a look at what's on that sheet of bristol. It's a feeling of warmth, of joy, of reaffirmation that someone out there loves that piece of artwork.

And that, my friends, is what keeps idiots like me going, even when I'm ready to throw in the towel and beat my head against the perverbial wall. I remember the good folks, the kind ones who were nice enough to purchase something I drew, and smile.

So folks, if you have AA tables in the future, be kind. Don't be jerks to the folks around you, be them table mates or attendees.

You really do catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar.

End