I know I'm a bit late on this but then I've been late my whole life... I figure my one devoted reader would be curious about my reactions to this years Comic Con. I decided to change it up this year and instead of taking my portfolio down (mostly because I didn't have anything new in it) I decided to volunteer at the Mile High booth. When my brother told me we could get in for free and get paid a hefty sum of cash for a few hours work I knew it was a deal I couldn’t turn down. We drove down early to make the most of the time before we had to man the booth. Even then (as anyone who has gone can attest to) we knew we wouldn’t have time to see a quarter of what was there. After debating back and forth we decided to skip the panels and just sweep the convention hall. After hearing how nucking futs that was from D.K. Thompson, I think we made the right decision. We stopped by to say hello to David Mack and pick up the latest issue of Kabuki. It made me smile to see Ryan Clator signing autographs like the comic star he should be. But before we could get halfway across the floor the day was half dead and we had to turn back to pay our debt to Mile High.
    I thought I knew comics, I really did. But I learned just because you’ve read the Sandman and every comic that has been turned into a movie in the last few years, does not qualify you to work at a comic booth. Someone would come up to me and ask what issue Spiderman got his black costume. I would stammer something about … uh the Secret Wars… I think… I kept waiting for one of the real employees of Mile High to come by and tell me to take off in the most condescending tone possible. Thankfully they didn’t but after a while put me on shoplifting duty to keep me from getting asked too many questions I think.
    By the time we finished at the booth it was just about closing time for the convention hall, so my brother and I wandered out to our car along with the other one hundred and twenty thousand. Along the way I struck up a conversation with guy named Stefano Gaudiano. He asked me if I was at the Con as a fan or a professional. I told him a fan this year. He replied, “and next year as a professional,” slightly misunderstanding my meaning. I said well who knows… I asked him if he was here as a fan or part of the industry. He said he was an inker. I asked if he was here promoting any of his projects (trying desperately not to let the dialog from "Chasing Amy" slip out of my mouth.) He modestly told me he was down here so he could attend the Eisner’s since he was nominated for one. I don’t think he saw the shock in my face. He then proceeded to talk to me about my art and where I thought I was going with it. He asked about the publishing options in my local area. I said Image Studios half joking and he said, “Well why don’t you take it to them?” It floored me to hear that from someone. The idea that I could just walk in there and expect them to publish something of mine. I bashfully told him I should to build up a better portfolio first (which is true, but still feels like a cop out). He asked me for a card and I had to tell him I didn’t have one, ashamed of my poor networking skills. He just laughed and told me he was the worst promoter in the world and didn’t have one of his to offer me. But before we went in separate directions he asked me my name so he could try to remember it, because he hoped to see a project with it attached. I tried not to look too embarrassed.
    On the way home driving up the 5 north we hit Disneyland just as riots of colored light arched over the freeway. My brother and I watched transfixed as red and purple stars etched themselves into the dull night and the low sound of ignited black powder rippled through the windshield of my car. For some reason U2’s “A Sort of Homecoming” started playing in my head. All in all it was a perfect way to end the day.

Tags: kabuki, san diego comic con