Sooner or later, authors seeking ways to promote their books consider the prospect of attending conventions. I have mixed feelings on the subject, probably because I’ve had mixed results. When I say ‘convention’ I mean a gathering of fans and creators of literary genres like science fiction, romances, and mysteries, not conventions of the American Legion or the Modern Language Association, though I can imagine circumstances that would make that kind of convention a profitable venue for a writer too. My father, for example, self-published his WWII memoirs, attended a convention of Navy veterans, and sold a healthy number of copies to them. A friend wrote a mystery involving needlework and sold dozens of copies at a quilting convention.
I started attending science fiction conventions in the 1960s, here and in Canada and Britain, and I enjoyed them only partly because I like to read s.f. and fantasy. My first convention was a Worldcon (the big international s.f. convention) held in Los Angeles at a hotel near the airport. The hotel clearly catered to businessmen most of the time. As my husband and I went to the desk to register, we saw several wide-eyed men in suits and ties in the check-in line overlooked by a massive Viking dressed in a brown bathmat and wearing a horned helmet. He was carrying a (bonded) battle axe. Nobody gave him any lip. On our way up to our room we got stuck in an elevator with Ray Bradbury. Bliss. Since I was not a published author at the time, I could relax, attend panel discussions, and enjoy listening to my favorite s.f. writers arguing with each other over what was hard science fiction and what mere fantasy. In that era, most of the non-writers at such a convention were compulsive readers of s.f. and fantasy. These days, many of the attendees are game players and media fans–in other words, they are less likely to buy books than in the olden days.
Fan conventions multiplied in the decades since that LA Con. Dozens of regional conventions are held every year as well as specialized conventions for fans of comics or games or Harry Potter. The s.f. conventions, since they did involve compulsive readers, also spun off mystery and romance conventions. The romance conventions seem to be aimed primarily at writers rather than readers, though attendees share the s.f. fondness for costuming. Mystery conventions do focus on readers, and they seem more serious to me than either romance or s.f. conventions. You will occasionally see a mystery fan dressed as Sherlock Holmes, but mostly not.
All of these conventions feature panels of authors, editors, and agents, or authors and fans. The discussions are almost always interesting and sometimes quite heated. Many writers spend their convention hours schmoozing in the bar, which is not a bad idea, but it would be a shame to miss all the panels. Even if the discussion is not world-shaking, it will give readers insight into the favorite writers’ personalities, and the panels are very helpful to beginning writers.
I think conventions, particularly the smaller ones like Left Coast Crime, can provide writers with a good promotional venue, but they are not for the faint-hearted. Above all, they aren’t for late-comers. If you intend to go, sign up early and be sure to ask to be put on panels. You will also be invited to sign books, usually at a specified time and place where your fans can find you. I also suggest that shy writers take a friend with them because a convention, especially a large one like Bouchercon, can be very isolating.