FanX - One Year Later

Well, today's day one of the 2023 version of FanX. And this time, I'm not participating. 

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I couldn't even if I wanted to, since I'm much too broke. Even with my ongoing job and trying to save up as much as possible, I don't have half of what I forked out last year. Most of my tax refund has already been used up.

And FanX, needless to say, does not come cheap. Everything costs an arm and a leg: a decent table, celebrity photo shoots, your own merchandise, and if you don't live close to Salt Lake, transportation is a headache, too. 

So, like I said, I can't go, and I've no burning desire to go back anytime soon anyhow, if ever. I'm still nursing my wounds (if you can call them that) from last year. 

In hindsight, I'm both proud of myself and ashamed of myself. I'm proud about my boldness, diligence, and hard work; I maintain that the artwork I made is my finest work yet. Looking at it now, I still think it's really good. I couldn't have pulled it off without the assistance of my dear friend and unofficial art partner, Kelly Schwedler. Everyone who saw my work liked what they saw, so that's one step in the right direction. People have to like you, first and foremost. Verbal praise isn't the same as monetary compensation, but it was something.

On the other hand, I'm ashamed of my woeful overconfidence. I bit off way more than I had the capacity to chew. If I hadn't invested so much, the financial failure wouldn't sting so much. 

Then again, in my defense, I was left to figure out everything for myself, literally everything, and I'd never done anything like this before. I could take no more than wild guesses and hope for the best. I sure could have used a partner, someone who was a bit more knowledgeable about marketing art, and besides, I could have used a friend. 

All the other vendors had somebody with them. Every table had groups of two or three at bare minimum. So, most of my time there was boring and lonely. I don't relish the thought of going through something like that again, another big reason for my reluctance. 

There were a couple of people who were going to help me at first, but their plans fell apart at the last minute. I don't blame them, but again, this meant I was pretty much on my own, which was nowhere near as much fun. The phrase "alone in a crowd" took on a whole new meaning.

I couldn't even use my phone for entertainment. There was no place to plug in my phone charger, I needed to save the battery for calling my mom later, and I would have had to pay extra for the use of their Wi-Fi anyway. So, to quote The Cat in the Hat: 

As I said, people liked me, but few liked me enough to actually pay me. I now scoff at people who try to say, "Just think of all the exposure you'll get!" 

Yeah, sure, exposure's nice and all, but it only gets you halfway there at best. I also roll my eyes at amateurs who assume being an artist or author is easy, that it's only a matter of time before you're rolling in fortune and fame. You're in for a rude awakening, soldiers.

I've gained a new appreciation for the advice I got in college, "Make sure you have a backup plan. It could happen, but the odds of it not happening are much greater."

Of course, I really tried not to get my hopes up too high. Mentally, I was prepared to not do so well, since I was a first-timer. Emotionally, not so much. 

In my head, I understood people only had so much money to spare and only so much space at home, so their rejection of me was nothing personal. But the heart doth protest nonetheless. 

I guess the letdown also hit me as hard as it did because my self-esteem has always been a little wobbly. Art and writing are among the few things I feel I'm actually good at, and I don't have much to look forward to or hope for these days, so disappointments of this magnitude are a lot more painful. 

Now, that's not to say it's been all bad. It might not have been what I expected, but it was far from horrible. 

Besides my pride in the quality of my work, there was definitely plenty to see. FanX is, in essence, an indoor carnival. People dress up in all sorts of crazy, creative ways; in this case, Halloween comes twice in the year. It's amazing to see what people come up with and it's obvious you won't find such costumes in any store. 

The costume that jumped out at me the most was Steamboat Willie. A girl had painted her face white and her nose black, and she wore a sort of steamboat all around her, which made it a little awkward for her to move around and turn corners, but her appearance was truly striking. I made it easy on myself by dressing up in a simple Mario or Luigi costume, though a few people asked to take a picture with me, to which I gladly obliged. 

I was planning to just wear jeans, and then I decided to add to the authenticity with actual overalls. Boy, those overalls were a tight fit. I had quite a time getting into them and unfastening the straps when necessary. But at least I looked good, and I was among the few vendors to dress up. 

I got to meet a few celebrities face-to-face, even if it was only for a few seconds. To be fair, they had a tight schedule, the lines were incredibly long (I waited at least an hour each time), and they didn't have all day to chitchat with each person. At least you got to see them up close, talk to them, and get a picture for keeps. 

I enjoyed meeting Jodi Benson and AJ McLean the most. Jodi was so sweet, and AJ is very huggable; I got two hugs from him, he was pleased to hear I loved his music and he playfully called me "Mario" when I was dressed as Luigi that day, and I said afterward, "The Backstreet Boys are real teddy bears!" 

I also quipped, "Only a real fan will wait in line for three hours to meet their idol for three seconds."

I wish I'd organized my stuff better, but being paid less meant my commission payment to FanX (you had to give them a fair share of your profits) was smaller. My overall payment to them was less than $30, and I wonder what their reaction was when they saw my check. They probably thought, "Wow, she didn't make much, did she?" 

In the end, I donated what was left to FanX and to Deseret Industries, which I was able to claim on my taxes later. But I've kept the digital copies of the artwork, and I've since attempted a few more pin designs, since those sold best. By far, my most popular item was the Jack Skellington pin, although my food and frog pins also sold fairly well. The Mickey Mouse faces were a modest success, too, and I easily sold more postcards than posters.

Maybe, if I ever do FanX or any other convention again, I'll just stick to the small, simple stuff. People were more drawn to my pins, magnets, and cards because they didn't cost much or take up much room. 

So, in conclusion, I'm not giving up. I'm really trying to learn from this experience, see it as a form of constructive criticism. But I probably went for the big thing before I was ready. And once again, if I ever do this again, it'll be on a much smaller, much more manageable scale. 

Like they say, only time will tell, and you only truly fail when you quit altogether. 

Another painful lesson learned: order the goods well ahead of time, so you make it easy on the poor people printing out your goods, and you won't lose more money on speedy shipment fees. 

And finally, to those who are giving it an honest shot this year, good luck. You're gonna need it.