On Vending at My First Horror Convention Appearance in Over a Decade
This past weekend, I achieved a long-standing dream of mine. I took the plunge and vended at a large-scale fan convention. Not just a fan convention: a horror convention.
I knew once I checked in for setup on Friday night I was home.
It’s been over 10 years since I’ve been deeply entrenched in the convention circuit. There are a lot of factors behind that: shifts in advertising revenue; most North Jersey horror conventions ending operations due to ridiculously high rental costs; the demands of my work as the live-in caretaker for my late grandmother increasing; my career shift from full-time writer and sometimes teacher to full-time teacher and sometimes writer. The list goes on.
What I do know is that I have always felt at home at these horror events. I may not be tattooed and pierced or only wearing black and spikes anymore, but I do feel connected to the horror community. We’re bonded over a shared interest in a genre that often gets cast aside by mainstream media and culture despite its high return on investment. No, these people understand the odd joy that comes from being scared, from rooting for the villain, from confronting the darkness lurking on the edges of society.
They also tend to be incredibly nice, welcoming people who love to chat and share compliments pretty freely. We’re kind people with a shared bond over horror. We’re as cozy as we are creepy and I saw far more killer clowns live and in person than I feel comfortable with.
Side note: whoever had the full-size screaming clown puppet on your hip, congratulations. You scared me for hours and I’m still recovering. Well done.
NJ Horror Con, held at the New Jersey Convention and Exposition Center in Edison, NJ, happened this past weekend on March 2 and 3, 2025. This is a massive series of conventions held a few times a year in various locations throughout the state. They have a great mix of celebrity guests, film screenings, and a massive exhibitor hall.
My operation is small, but growing, at this point. It’s only been a year and a half since I started helping my mother rebuild her crafts business with local events. That means I’ve only been really pushing my own stuff out again for a little over a year. Sure, I have my books (available on all major platforms), but physical stock of books and art are limited.
I’ve been working for months in my free time to build up an army of little monsters to bring with me in addition to the books and art prints. I had a few licensed designs that really caught the eye (the skull lantern from STLFlix was a massive hit, especially after I painted it to perfection and kept it lit up all weekend long), but most of my little six foot table was my own original work.
Saturday was filled with trepidation as original work is always hit or miss at any event. People know what they like, especially in fan scenes, and you’ll inevitably lose out on customers who only want what they know. That Art the Clown collector is there for Terrifier merch, and I’m pushing my creepy and cute My Heart Monsters and menagerie of eerie-eyed Metallic Mayhem series. That doesn’t mean I can’t make a sale to a fellow Chucky cosplayer; it’s just more of an uphill battle.
My greatest fears about appearing in person–no, not those fears, thank goodness, this was a stalker-free weekend–did happen on Saturday. The crowd wasn’t small, but their eagerness to shop was. No one in my section of the vending hall was making sales. I’m already competing with larger scale operations featuring finely hewn booths filled with merch they know sells; there’s no surprise there. I expected that. I did not expect the level of speed walking through the aisles with nary a glance at anyone around me. The sales I made were hard fought on that first day.
I knew from previous experiences to not feel defeated. Every day is a new day at an event and sometimes it’s just not your day. I’m not one of those “constantly adjust the table in case something works” vendors, but I’ll shift stuff around at a multi-day event if the first setup doesn’t work.
Sunday was a new day and I had a plan. Shift the books here, add the looping iPad with the speed painting/3D print compilation video as an attention getter, and line up the prints where the books were just in case.
It worked right away. The tiny shifts in the table drew more people in. Once I get you in a conversation at an event, I’m pretty good at getting some kind of return. Even if you don’t buy, you’re leaving with my information and a good impression of me and my business.
But a $6 collection of short stories feature (insert book topic here)? Pretty easy sale to a horror crowd. My audience arrived on Sunday and we had a great time together.
All the vendors seemed to be having a better day on Sunday. The tensions that rose to the breaking point the night before melted away within an hour. The Sunday crowd was acting like a “typical Saturday crowd” according to the professional convention vendors, and I’ll take their word for it. The crowd moved at a slower pace, actually took the time to look at booths and interact with vendors, and they seemed more motivated to actually purchase items beyond marquee autographs. Sure, the big name monster vendors sold the most, but even an indie as indie can-be creator like me had sales and even word of mouth marketing.
Kindness is returned. There were wonderful vendors who had a good interaction with me earlier in the day, looked at what I was offering, and encouraged people to meet with me. I was already doing the same.
“Oh, you were looking for treats? The table right over there has amazing sugar cookies and cupcakes. That was breakfast today.” “I can’t do scented candles, but that seller right across from me has really clever horror-inspired scents. Check her out.” “Did you see the crocheted Funko-style toy for Sam? I wish I had the budget to pick it up. She’s right over there.” “I have a little gore in my one collection, but this guy around the corner is a fantastic splatter author.”
Sunday went well enough that I had to order another print run of Haunted before my upcoming appearance at Centenary College’s CycloneCon in April. That appearance is just for my books, so I’m also going to have a print run of Tick: A Short Musical for the first time and hopefully another project that should be coming out in a couple weeks.
I may have left at a loss overall, but the contacts I have (I’m actually working on a wholesale gig for another artist right now), the increased traffic here and at ko-fi, and the confidence that comes with knowing I do have what it takes to reclaim my space in the convention scene is invaluable. Where will I go next?
I mean, other than CycloneCon. That’s booked and already getting close to crunch time.
Where will I go next? I have ideas. I’ll see what makes sense for my schedule, my budget, and my spirit. These events take a lot out of you.
Just remember: if you do come to a convention, be kind. We’re trying our best. A smile, a greeting back, or a polite “no thank you” is a lot more appreciated than running like you’re being chased by Ghostface. We don’t bite.
