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Nearly a year ago I stood on a roof terrace in an unbelievable location, surrounded by icy blue seas and snowy mountains, breathing crisp Arctic air - and I was getting an absolute roasting. At that moment in time I didn't want to be in Iceland anymore. I didn't want to be at the Harpa building for Eve FanFest 2014 anymore. And I sure as hell didn't want to be talking to Alexander bloody Gianturco anymore.I'd felt pretty confident going up to him. I hadn't played Eve Online - a persistent universe of intrigue, economics, and spaceships - but I'd written about it. I'd written about it enough to know who Gianturco was, certainly: a man better known by his character's name, The Mittani, and probably the most famous character in the game. I hoped he had read some of my work and had seen that I cared. He had read my stuff, it turned out, but that was the problem. He accused me of writing rubbish about him because I hadn't made an effort to really understand Eve.
It hurt. I stood my ground and things worked out but the confrontation had upset me. What a wicked, arrogant space emperor, I thought. What gives him the right to make me feel bad? What does he matter anyway?! He's just some guy in a game - why should I care what he thinks?
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