It may surprise you to learn that 99% of my anxiety at events is “what if I don’t recognize someone and they’re sad because I didn’t recognize them?” This has been my top worry since I was little Miss One Pro Story Sale. No, since before that. Since I was Little Miss Teen Girl At Her First Convention.
I wouldn’t say I have “Face blindness” but I do know that more people recognize me than I recognize them, and also that I am AWFUL about remembering names. I try to fix people in my memory as we talk, and I know I should jot down a note immediately after meeting someone so I remember, but I don’t. I’m a failure at this.
At my first WorldCon, I met an editor who had bought one of my stories. I didn’t know that at first. A pretty blonde woman shouted, “Marie! So good to see you!” And then she caught me checking her name tag to see who she was and her face fell. OOF.
This is honestly a problem I’ve had my entire life. As an identical twin, I stood out, and then I went and grew my hair unusually long. Because reasons. Strangers approach me, ask to take my photo. One time it was even a celebrity of some sort – I mean, he had an entourage and said, “Ha this is funny it’s usually me people ask to get selfies with!”
I still have no idea who he was. A sports star, maybe? His entourage were very sporty. I didn’t ask him to send me a copy of the photo so I can’t even ask you to identify him for me.
Then, this weekend, someone tweeted “I saw @reasie at an event and she didn’t recognize me! Oh well, maybe someday I’ll be important enough.” and I was GUTTED.
Because of course this person is important – they are a person! I didn’t like how shallow that made me sound – like if she’d been a celebrity I’d have remembered her. I swear I wouldn’t! See the above! Surely how “important” someone is doesn’t make them more memorable?
But then… maybe it does. And that’s okay. If I met, say, George Clooney, I would remember him. I’ve seen him five thousand thousand times. I dunno. I don’t think that’s the level of “important” we’re talking about. Am I important? Is there something besides my hair and silliness that makes me memorable? I know I am silly… one of those people who is always trying to entertain everyone around me.
But maybe I am more memorable than I was? My twin sister has commented about how, when I was a squire in the SCA more people knew me, and when she was baroness, more people knew her, and now I’m Big Famous Author so it’s back to more people knowing me.
(She got congratulated three times last week for her Hugo nomination.)
So… yes, it’s natural that people remember more quickly people who are Important in some way. And I could be more likely to remember someone I look up to, regardless of how distinctive they are, physically. I only had to meet my friend Louis once to remember him at the next convention I saw him at. Part of that was we really clicked, and okay I didn’t know anyone so I sat and talked with him for three hours in the con suite about … writing? I don’t remember. I was animated, and he was funny.
Maybe the point is – there are many factors that will make someone more or less memorable. Maybe I’m more motivated to remember men because I’m attracted to men? Maybe I’m more motivated to remember people who are struggling authors over editors because I don’t think of editors as my peers?
Forgive the people who do not recognize you. As much as I’ve spent time in this blog post talking about how memorable I am, I’ve been on the other side, too.
Cory Doctorow is a big deal, and he was the Clarion instructor I had most fangirl feelings for before meeting him. I ran into him at a convention and said hi, and he brushed me off (nicely) then later saw me and said, “Oh, someone reminded me – you were one of my students. Just tell me who you are when you see me; I won’t remember. Sorry if I was brusque earlier.”
And I said “don’t worry about it,” because, honestly, I had not expected him to remember me. I had hoped a little bit, but I wasn’t hurt because OMG he’s a big deal, and I’m one of hundreds of workshop students he might have had over the years?
Nope. That interaction didn’t gut me. But then … at the last Worldcon, I was lonely and bored and saw a person I remembered hanging out with in a group at another convention. An author like me with a few books and publications, but not a Known Name. Someone I considered to be my equal, and okay maybe slightly more successful? But we’d had a good time at WisCon! I approached him eagerly, said “hi!” and got an icy, “Can I help you?” followed by very heavy “leave me alone” vibes.
I reacted by pretending that I was just … saying hi to a stranger… and beat an embarrassed retreat. Then I heard, softly, behind me, “Ugh, these random fans think they deserve your time.”
“He doesn’t recognize me,” I thought. “I’m not important enough. I probably never will be.”
You know what? That’s true. Because ultimately, you can’t force a relationship to form. Some people you’ll hit it off with for thirty minutes and that’s the end of your association. Others, you hit it off for thirty minutes and it’s the start of a lifelong friendship.
It’s still worth it to meet people who won’t remember you. It’s worth it for that thirty minutes of fun at WisCon, even if it doesn’t bankroll into a conversation at WorldCon. So, roll the dice, and try not to be too gutted when they come up bust.
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