It was supposed to be an exhilarating festival for book lovers.
But instead of Coachella or North by Northeast, attendees were left looking down this weekend and counting the Nine Circles of Hell. It鈥檚 always a bummer to spend good money on a ticket and have your expectations crushed by incompetent organizers.
So let me begin by extending my sympathy to the bookworms who bought ball gowns and descended on the Baltimore Convention Center last weekend. You expected to find a bustling vendor hall and lively panel discussions and more cosplay than at Fan Expo Canada.
Instead, you wandered a concrete labyrinth that had more janitors than authors.
The event was called A Million Lives Book Festival. Based on videos shared on social media this week, I鈥檝e seen bigger crowds in my convenience store before a lottery draw.
Scenes from the “Lavender Romance Ball” were truly bleak. This was supposed to be like a prom for romantasy enthusiasts. You needed a $250 鈥淒ream Maker鈥 ticket. A better name would be 鈥淣ightmare Fuel.鈥 There was no decor, no special lighting, no atmospheric evidence that this was a romance ball and not a recruitment office for forensic auditors.
The music came from a tiny Bluetooth speaker provided by a pitying security guard.
The YouTube titles of videos posted by disappointed attendees told the story: 鈥淎 Million Lives Book Festival: A Disaster Story.鈥 鈥淲hen a Book Convention Goes Wrong.鈥 鈥淪cams Taking Over the Book Community? Fallout From A Million Lives Book Festival.鈥
Now, I am unfamiliar with the romantasy genre. I鈥檓 assuming that is a portmanteau of 鈥渞omance鈥 and 鈥渇antasy.鈥 Does that mean a typical plot involves a damsel in distress getting rescued from railroad tracks by a hunky vampire? Or is it a portmanteau of 鈥淩oman鈥 and 鈥渁postasy鈥? Does a gladiator fall in love with a flirty debutante who is fleeing oppressive church elders?
Role play? S&M? Tantric sex outside the International Space Station?
Here鈥檚 what I do know: governments need to regulate cultural festivals beyond the basic safety guidelines. If not a Fun Guarantee, there should be a Promise Guarantee. If you sell tickets and promise attendees a cold plunge, you can鈥檛 just throw ice water in their faces and call it a day. If you promise a night of experimental percussion, you can鈥檛 just bang a gong.
A paper mask does not qualify as cosplay.
Shady event organizers are emboldened. This will only get worse.
Remember Fyre Festival, the 2017 luxury concert and getaway that unfolded on the Great Exuma island in the Bahamas? Instead of spas and swish hotels in a tropical paradise, traumatized attendees were lavished with cheese sandwiches in plastic boxes and FEMA tents.
Fyre imploded in real time as concertgoers documented the horrors.
Organizer Billy McFarland ended up in the slammer for fraud. What did he do after getting out? He started pitching Fyre 2, which is like a cruise ship called 鈥淭itanic 2.鈥 The sequel was supposed to take place in Playa del Carmen this month. It has been postponed indefinitely.
McFarland is probably brainstorming other get-rich schemes, such as a talking AI that鈥檚 just a Teddy Ruxpin in a faraday cage. Or an opulent paella festival in Valencia that is secretly just vats of Rice-A-Roni on a public beach.
What about the kids in Scotland last year who begged their parents for tickets to Willy鈥檚 Chocolate Experience? This was billed as an immersive outing inspired by 鈥淲onka.鈥 But instead of finding chocolate fountains and choreographed Oompa-Loompas, the kids wandered into an industrial hellhole that had a tiny bouncy castle and fewer treats than you鈥檇 find at Mr. Lube.
The children bawled! The police were called! The event was shut down!
We already live in an age of scams. Bad actors are trying to steal our identity or hack our email. Phishing. Spoofing. Skimming. Ransomware. For crying out loud, some street crooks have debit machines. What happened to the 鈥淒o Not Call鈥 registry? At least twice a day, my landline chirps and the alphanumeric display reads: 鈥淟ikely Spam鈥 or 鈥淟ikely Fraud.鈥
Hey, I鈥檓 on deadline. Stop trying to sell me a dubious time-share in the Poconos.
Cultural festivals should be a safe space from such shenanigans, whether the target audience is romantasy nerds or kids in search of a sugar high. Organizers? Underpromise and overdeliver. You can鈥檛 go wrong that way. Don鈥檛 lie about a Monkees reunion and then hand musical instruments to four actual monkeys because most of the band is no longer with us.
The organizer of A Million Lives Book Festival has apologized and vowed refunds. That just covers event admissions. Many attendees also bought plane tickets. They rented hotel rooms. Authors shipped books to their booths only to discover less foot traffic than the Autobahn. Chapter 1: What a mess.
A cultural festival should be good for your soul.
It should never break your heart.
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