In the Wonderfest Model Room: My expression was meant to convey pathos akin to that evoked by the disembodied, grimacing green-skinned fellow to my right. I'm afraid I ended up just looking like a monkey.
I’m on record as someone who, generally speaking, loathes visual media. This makes it difficult to appreciate much of mainstream fandom, which tends to be so caught up in the adoration of movies and television (many of which I’ve just never seen).
I don’t say this in any attempt to win myself bona fides as a literary snob. It’s just me. I find books a far better entertainment value. The major exception to this is, of course, Dr. Who — which has produced some genuinely well-written stuff. But the rest of it? Time-wasters.
So when I heard about that a media-focused con was within easy driving distance from my abode in Indiana , I wasn’t all that excited. In fact, I’ve known about WonderFest for a couple of years now, but have never gone. This year, hubbie and I checked it out and I found myself pleasantly surprised.
For starters, WonderFest is all about nostalgia. It’s primarily a convention that focuses on the hobby of building models of various science fiction, fantasy, and horror characters or vehicles. That’s right. Models. Back in the old days (before even I was born) there was a Monster Craze that swept the nation. Legions of kids in the 60s subscribed to Forrest J. Ackerman’s Famous Monster of Filmland magazine, stayed up late at night to watch their local horror movie host (Zacherly, Dr. Shock, Vampira, etc.) introduce classic Universal and Hammer films. It was in this era of “Monster Kids” that companies like Aurora produced monster-themed model kits that children could assemble.
WonderFest is heavily steeped in this “Monster Kid” culture, and for a weird, oft-misanthropic author like myself it proved a pleasant diversion. In days like these when the human race seems to be making quite the mess of itself, who better to befriend than monsters?
The Rondo: the genre award that looks like it not only *could* kick your ass, but also *wants* to.
Me with Aunt Matilda (second disembodied head to my right). She looked a might peaked, but it was good to run into her at the con.
