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If you were a nerd in the 80s or 90s, you were probably lonely.
Then the internet happened.
Suddenly you could talk to fellow nerds across the land.
IRL communication followed, with comic-cons popping up all over the map.
Hollywood began pouring billions into franchises starring mutants and hobbits.
By the end of the aughts, you were a minority no longer.
At least, not if you were a straight white male.
If you were a nerd of color or disabled or queer an actual minority you remained on the fringes.
Which helps explain why people were so outraged and heartbroken by its abrupt collapse.
To its founders, Universal FanCon seemed like a sure bet at least at the start.
Within a month, theyd raised more than $56,000, doubling their initial goal.
Vendors, event volunteers, and Kickstarter backers poured out their disappointment and confusion on Twitter.
People wanted their money back and were beginning to believe those refunds would never come.
Many suspected the project was some sort of scam.
In an email to me, Roxane Gay accused the organizers of willful delusion and malfeasance.
Oh god, Butler recalled thinking when he learned about Burtons tweet.Its that bad.
For Butler and the other organizers, the nightmare does not appear to be ending anytime soon.
In recent weeks, the team behind the event has been grappling with how it all fell apart.
It was hubris, said Butler, in his only interview discussing the implosion.
Hubris and, as he went on to suggest, a surprising lack of enthusiasm for diversity among fans.
If more fans had bought tickets, he said, the whole debacle could have been avoided.
Unfortunately, they just didnt, he said.
I should have known better.
But I let my belief in this nonexistent community blind me.
From the beginning, the organizers were hobbled by a lack of experience.
(Some on Twitter who believe the convention was a scamhavesuggestedthat the organizers never put down this deposit.
In fact, the convention center confirmed to me that $45,000 was paid on signing.)
This deposit would prove to be their first, and perhaps biggest, mistake.
Hes also the co-founder of his own independent convention, No Brand Con, Wisconsins longest-running anime con.
but then couldnt get the money together.
Looking back, Butler doesnt disagree.
We were victims of our own hype, he said.
We were in the bubble of social media.
If you didnt know someone directly involved, you wouldnt have known about FanCon at all.
(Citing legal concerns, the organizers would not specify how much they paid them.)
Butler says his advisers assured him that ticket sales would improve as the event date got closer.
Meanwhile, costs were still mounting.
Robert told me that Orlandos team was concerned about the lack of ticket sales, she said.
(Joness manager declined a request for an interview.)
Broadnax said this was the first shed heard that ticket sales were low.
Looking back, she wondered why she hadnt paid more attention to the financial picture earlier on.
People were crying on that phone call, Melanie Dione said.
Broadnax considered this grossly irresponsible and negligent.
Two week later, commenters on Twittercontinuetospeculatethat that the organizers profited from the debacle.
Trae Dorn, for one, thinks this is unlikely.
We have no personal cash on hand at all, he said.
Meanwhile, the area of the Baltimore Convention Center that had been reserved for FanCon sat empty.
Onlya banneroutside the convention center attested to what might have been.
It bore a simple greeting: Welcome Universal FanCon.
Between mid-March and late April, ticket sales increased to around 1,700 sold.