So the other day, I hung out with nerds.

Now, before I get into all this, I should clarify something. When I use the term “nerd,” I don’t mean it disparagingly. I’m a nerd. I play "World of Warcraft," I love sci-fi and superhero movies, I occasionally read comic books…err, graphic novels…and I’m built like a pencil with hair on one end and toenails on the other. So when I say that I hung out with nerds, I’m saying, in a manner of speaking, that I was connecting with my roots.

It all happened at this convention called Archon, which took place in Collinsville over the weekend. Despite being a nerd, I’d never even heard of Archon until a few weeks ago. Even then, I only learned about it via a Facebook friend’s post. After doing a little digging on the web site, I discovered that it was intended to be both a sci-fi/fantasy fanboy convention and a writers workshop. As an aspiring novelist and appreciator of all things that never existed and probably never will, this held great appeal to me.

I have to admit, though, that I was a little uncertain. As I read further down the list of programs at the show, I realized that this show was not just nerdy. It was nerdcore. It featured a workshop on how to make armor out of cardboard and duct tape. One author’s panel was slated to discuss the question, "Why can’t fans of 'Babylon 5,' 'Star Trek' and 'Stargate' get along?” There was going to be, and I am not making this up, a "Charity Klingon Jail ‘n Bail" to raise money for breast cancer. I didn’t even know what that was, but I was convinced that it would somehow involve a bat’leth.

To be honest, I wasn’t sure if I’d like the convention or not. On the one hand, I know that a bat’leth is a traditional Klingon weapon. On the other, I have never, say, gone bat’leth shopping. If I went to this show, I would be among people who not only owned bat’leths, but probably knew how to use them to make a nice plate of tetrazzini.

However, there were a few things on the schedule that looked really interesting. In addition to the sessions for writers, my wife’s favorite vampire-hunter author, Laurell K. Hamilton, was going to talk. And best of all, Chewie would be there. Not the actual Chewbacca – he’s been dead for like a thousand years and lived several galaxies from here, durr – but the guy who played him in the "Star Wars" movies, Peter Mayhew. Colette and I found this to be potentially very cool, so we bought tickets.

When we first got there, we were a little…well, you know, I don’t know how to describe our reaction. I mean, out in front of the convention center, dudes were conducting battles with big padded swords and staffs and shields. And they were taking it seriously, from what we could tell. It was as if they were there to say, "Welcome, lesser nerds. We greet you with open arms. However, keep in mind that you are on our turf now, and for once you are going to stick out for not wearing a Starfleet uniform. You may proceed."

It was even crazier inside. Sure, the majority of people were just wearing street clothes, but a lot of folks weren’t. We saw people dressed as Doctor Who, Captain America, Starfleet officers of every era (although it would seem that the nerderati generally prefer the uniforms from the Shatner period), Princess Leia, and all sorts of other characters that I didn’t recognize, presumably because my nerd-cred wasn’t up to snuff. I was also pleasantly surprised to note that several young women wore what essentially amounted to bikinis with scarves attached. Not sure why. Didn’t care. However, out of respect for Colette, I only ogled them when she wasn’t looking.

There was also a ton of stuff for sale. We saw everything from false vampire teeth – not the cheap dime-store plastic things; these were, like, dentures for the undead – to artists’ renderings of young women in bikinis with scarves attached. (Say what you will about the nerdcore, they are not shy about putting hot, questionably dressed babes front and center in their art. And for that, good sirs and ladies, I salute you.) There were books, action figures, necklaces, prosthetic heads, you name it. We didn’t buy anything, but we had a good time looking around.

The various seminars and speakers were cool, too. We learned during Peter Mayhew’s Q&A session that the Chewbacca suit’s lips had reversed magnets in them to keep the mouth from ever being fully closed. (Apparently when it was closed, the mask looked too much like a mask.) We also learned that Peter Mayhew’s hair is really not that much shorter than Chewbacca’s. And he seemed like a fun guy to have a beer with. I also got my picture taken with him – had to pay five bucks for it, but that was a well-spent five bucks, if you ask me.

Hamilton was cool, too. Her Q&A was interesting, and we had the opportunity to chat briefly with her later in the day during her autograph session. Considering that she has six million books in print, she didn’t need to be accommodating and friendly, but she was.

Her husband, by the way, was wearing a black kilt and what I can only describe as vampire-kicking boots. This has nothing to do with anything, but when a man wears a kilt and vampire-kicking boots in public, I feel obligated to mention it.

The writers workshops were also helpful for me. I got some good advice from another local New York Times bestselling author, Angie Fox, who put up with an inordinate amount of questions from me, so she deserves props for that alone. (Colette tells me Angie’s "The Accidental Demon Slayer" is really good and surprisingly funny; I’m going to give it a whirl next.)

By the time Colette and I left, we realized that we’d had fun. We had ventured into the land of Doctor Who costumes and bat’leths and had come out smiling. I still don’t think I’ll ever end up making my own Iron Man costume, but it’s at least if I’m ever in the mood to see one, I now know where to go.

I guess I could see myself owning a pair of vampire-kicking boots someday, though. One cannot overprepare for the remote possibility that "True Blood" is a documentary.


Bob Rybarczyk (brybarczyk@sbcglobal.net) writes stuff. If he were a tree, he would probably be the kind the dogs prefer. Look for his novel, “Acoustic Kitty,” at area Borders stores and online at Amazon.