Balisage is over, forever. I’m very, very sad. Balisage has been a big part of my life.

I’ve presented at Balisage every year since 2012 (and I think one Extreme Markup Languages conference some time before it), and I will miss preparing and writing a paper, often in the last few days before the deadline in early April. I will miss revising that paper, but above all, I will miss it all coming together in August, presenting.

But the paper was always a pretext, an excuse. In the early days, my employers would only pay for the conference and travel if I were to speak, and so I had to make sure I would. One year, I wrote two papers and both were accepted. Huge mistake, and both presentations suffered as a result (sorry, Tommie and Debbie). I learned my lesson and provided something I could live with the following year(s).

I’m not an accessible person, but I always felt welcome and part of the show. I was terrified by the big names attending and would not dare to speak to any of them, but I would listen and nod and hope. And here’s the thing: somebody would always welcome me, talk to me, invite me. Always. I’d still not a very talkative person, but it was all the confirmation I needed. I felt welcomed and accepted. Balisage, and Extreme Markup before it, was always welcoming and including.

Many of us suffer from impostor syndrome. Maybe most of us. I don’t know. But Balisage is the one conference that always combatted it, making sure that every speaker was not only accepted but listened to. And there was Michael (Sperberg-McQueen), who would find a way to naturally include you in his closing keynote. Every time. You’d feel like a rock star (Erik van der Vlist’s words, not mine), you would feel recognised and special.

We’d all also be Listeners, a label that was on an actual handout lanyard sticker, something that you’d carry around your neck. Participating in a Balisage conference was every bit as satisfying as being a speaker. When the conference was still live, in Montreal or outside Washington, you’d queue up in front of a microphone to ask your questions. A somewhat terrifying experience as a speaker, but also immensely satisfying.

And as a listener, so cool. Me, I was always terrified of asking a question — funny how that works — but sometimes I would manage one. You know what they say about there being no stupid questions? Balisage is one of the few places where this was always true.

A good conference will always inspire you to do things. You’d present something, there would be questions and comments, and you’d think about what your listeners told you, and you’d think of additions to your work. And every so often, you’d tweak your code and fix things. I did this earlier, in fact. My Balisage paper this year, about an SGML to XML conversion library, has resulted in any number of edits, less than two months afterwards, and I do think I’d probably not have bothered without the conference.

So, all of the above, and more.