While attending Denvention 3 in Denver, Colorado, this summer, I was reminded yet again of what it is that I love about World Science Fiction Conventions. I love the high energy and sensory overload. Some people may think of this energy as pandemonium and mass confusion, but I enjoy the controlled chaos of having too many options—too many things to do with my time. Do I have two hours to spend at the enormous art show, will I be able to ever thread my way through the dealers’ room maze, can I fit in the masquerade, the opening ceremony, the Hugo Award ceremony, the science panels, and, of course, the panels with all my favorite authors?

I certainly did all this and more at my first World Science Fiction Convention. In 1973, my father decided that over Labor Day, our family vacation would be spent at Torcon 2. He piled the seven of us into the station wagon, and took off for Canada. I’m not sure my mother was thrilled by the prospect, but he assured her that we would stop off at Niagara Falls and tour Toronto as well. Having read about the masquerade, I’d made costumes for my tweenage sisters (as a self-conscious teenager there was no way I was making one for myself). My younger sisters gamely agreed to be aliens from my imagination, so I spent hours cutting little scales out of green felt and sewing them on yellow leotards.

Once we’d made it to the convention, we dropped my seven-year-old sister off at babysitting. She assures me to this day that she had a marvelous time making dragons and masks and was not scarred for life. I don’t remember how my mother and my other sisters stayed busy, but I know there was a plethora of activities for my brother, my father, and me. I have a vivid memory of the most beautiful chess set I have ever come across. Exquisitely crafted from precious metals, I believe it depicted the characters of Middle Earth. I came across it in the art show, and I could barely pull myself away from it. I returned to stare at this set several times over the course of the weekend. My father and brother, both avid chess players, were disappointed to discover that even if my mother let us mortgage the family home, the chess set was well out of our price range.

My dad was consoled, though, by the thrilling discovery that he could afford the Dum-Dum luncheon, where the actor Buster Crabbe would address Edgar Rice Burroughs aficionados. The three of us caught every panel we could that didn’t conflict with some other panel we desperately wanted to attend. It was at this convention that I had my first glimpse of writers like Robert Silverberg, Roger Zelazny, and Gardner Dozois.

At one memorable panel, John Brunner opined that the Arab nations were becoming more united than they had been in the past and that Western nations would soon be begging these countries for oil and paying much steeper prices for it. Little did we know that directly in our future lay the oil embargo of October 1973 that would lead to the painful energy crisis of the mid-seventies.* It was the first time I’d ever heard of OPEC, but, obviously, it wouldn’t be the last.

Another profound memory from Torcon 2 was word that J.R.R. Tolkien had died over the weekend. Lin Carter solemnly delivered the news to a stunned audience on the last morning of the convention. Carter also announced that he would sponsor the Gandalf Award for Life Achievement in Fantasy Writing. Carter told the pleased crowd that the award would be designed by the creator of the art show’s fabulous chess set.

Alas, Dum-Dum banquets are no longer held at Worldcons and the last Gandalf Award was bestowed in 1980. These changes haven’t given the typical convention attendee any additional free time, however. At this year’s Worldcon, you could still attend the masquerade and the art show, but you could also watch robot combat at the “critter crunch.” You could spend a day playing games and watching anime, and you could check out the Sidewise Award for alternate history. In the evening, you could attend a square dance on Gany-mede and the following morning you could donate to the Robert A. Heinlein Memorial Blood Drive. There still remains the awesome challenge of having to choose which author panels to attend from the huge schedule of multi-track programming.

At this year’s Worldcon, while my own family toured Denver, I spent most of my time meeting with authors and some of my time behind our table in the Exhibit Hall meeting readers. I did manage to bring my six-year-old daughter to breakfast with Mary Rosenblum and to the Hugo rehearsal with Kristine Kathryn Rusch. I took her fourteen-year-old sister to the Hugo ceremony. Due to all my responsibilities, the only panels I attended were my own. I had a lot of fun, but in my heart I envy the teenager who once had the time to make costumes and the freedom to squeeze in so many more of the activities that the Worldcon has to offer.

See you in Montreal!