Ten Things I Learned at SXSW:

1. Reports of the conference’s demise have largely been exaggerated. Before I left for Austin this year, I was a little melancholy that talk had been streaking around blogworld about how South by Southwest was over the hill, that there was nothing new to say about this medium and, dangit, where are the limousines and dancing girls of yesteryear? Upon arrival, that sadness lasted about 15 minues. I have no idea what the economic state of the conference is and since I know nothing about the special events business, it’s foolish for me to even speculate. Yet the soul of South by Southwest–warm, passionate, creative people in one place committed to building a dynamic future-burns as brightly as it ever has.

2. To that end, the conference is turning a corner. The first wave of web mania is dead and buried. Weblogs are going mainstream and in many circles are there already. These stories have been told. And though it may be comforting, even fun, to hear them again, there are other walls to scale and undiscovered countries waiting on the other side. If South by Southwest is to grow with us, it will need to start telling these new stories, loudly, and asking for our insights in telling them.

3. Those new stories are already being told, on the conference floor, over meals and late-night cocktails. Keep an eye out for panels next year on online multiplayer gaming, digital music, D.I.Y filmmaking, human/web-powered city guides and finding time to pursue personal and creative projects. If you don’t see them, ask why not.

4. Hugh is a very capable fellow but most of the dazzling ideas for the conference comes from the attendees. So if you’ve been waiting forever to see a panel on Web-enabled kitchen appliances, don’t moan, do something. Pitch it to Hugh. He isn’t going to laugh at you behind your back and you don’t have to be all brilliant and sexy and award-winning to offer up an idea.

Case in point: I ended up doing my Book Culture panel because I ran into Hugh in the hallway at the 2002 conference and rudely asked him why there was nothing about the web and books at the conference. He said “Why don’t you do something about that?” That’s what I did.

5. Being intimidated, while understandable, is a waste of time. Though I’ve seeing the same faces at SXSW for four years now, there’s still a small group of people that I’m afraid to talk to. One I spotted at my second panel and again at Bruce Sterling’s house. I finally just tapped her on the shoulder and said “Thanks for coming to my panel.” She was very nice, which I would have found out last year had I not been too chicken to speak to her.

I’ve been talking about this with a few other attendees. I think next year I’m going to make a list of every single person at the confrence whom I’ve been too shy to approach and talk to them. I don’ go to Austin every spring to remind myself of what I was like in junior high.

6. I’m not a spring chicken anymore. This is my fourth South by Southwest and, though that may not make me an old timer, it certainly makes me at least middle-aged in conference years. I several attacks of deja vu walking the convention hallways, my badge bouncing off my jacket. People I used to only know from afar are now old friends. Four years ago, panelists were gods or at least much smarter and better looking than me. I was a panelist this year. Twice. I even found myself at dinner talking to a fellow attendee there for his first conference asking me how it “used to be.” Wow.

7. These young attendees, maybe of whom cannot even drink legally, are the future of South by Southwest. We owe it to each other and to the conference as a whole to share with them what we know and to listen to what they have to say.

8. Castle Hill Cafe is as good as its ever been. This year I got to spread its gospel.

9. The most special thing about South by Southwest is how selflessly nice everybody is. Every year I am thunderstuck by how quickly attendees open up their homes, minds and hearts to people they only see once a year, to people with whom they may only have this crazy hobby in common. And while there are plenty of people at the conference I may not be as tight with if we saw each other every day, we have a unique bond one week a year. For that one week, I love them all.

10. I need to feel more often like I do when I’m at South by Southwest. Maybe we all do. I had a rather poignant conversation with two new friends at the conference this year who both remarked with sadness how spoiled they get by attending the conference each year. For a few days, they get to surround themselves with passionate, creative people. Then they have to go back to the routineness of life, its car payments, skinned knees and Monday mornings at the office.

What I realized this year is that I’d like to feel the way I do at South by Southwest a lot of the time. Most of the time. I know the conference is not reality (something I have to say out loud every year as a reminder) and that I am in the fortunate position of being A) unmarried and childless, B) in good health, C) working at a job that I love and D) in decent financial shape in spite of C). Nonetheless, I want creativity, passion, and solidarity to be an everyday occurance. Or at least the neigborhood I live in rather than a foreign country I visit once a year.

I’m going to try and make this happen by saying yes to more events and projects like South by Southwest instead of “I’m too busy,” to listen to what those different from me have to offer instead of assuming I know best and to realize the craziest idea is probably the one most worth chasing. Most of all, I’m going to try and nuture the relationships I began in Austin this year, in hopes that we can all carry some of that “conference high” without throughout the year instead coming down as soon as we get home.

I’d say it’s worth a try. You coming along?

• Category: Our Web, Ourselves.