Okay. . .

It's been a few weeks since my last update, but with good reason!

Here's an abbreviated version of my 'things to do' list from three weeks back. . . 

1) RUN!  HURRY!  YOU'VE ONLY GOT ONE WEEK TO GET THE NEXT ISSUE TO PRESS BEFORE YOUR PLANE TAKES OFF FOR SAN DIEGO!!

2) HOLY COW!  YOU'RE IN SAN DIEGO FOR A WHOLE WEEK!  WORK!  SELL!  DRAW, SKETCH, DRAW!

3) ARGH!  I'M EXHAUSTED AND THE BLUE LINE FOR ISSUE #28 CAME BACK ALL MESSED UP AND I NEED A NEW SCRIPT AND A NEW PAINTING BEfore. . . zzzzzz.
 

And so the better part of a month zapped by.  It's weird how time flies these days.  Lightspeed.

Anyway, the big news, even if it is now rather old, is of course the San Diego Comicon.  I guess the fact that we still have one is a good sign.  --Actually, it's a great sign considering how big and busy it was.  I think the show offered final proof that the terrifying decline and decay of the comics industry has well and truly hit Rock Bottom.  And 'Rock Bottom' in this case means, Rock-Solid.  --It was quite sobering and rather lonely to see how many faces were missing from the ranks of indy publishing, but the few who survived are all top notch people with stellar books; books which all come a hair's breath from perfection; the ones people knew all along would probably survive.  Wheat from the chaff, so to speak, and those books are, while somewhat reduced, remain healthy and strong.  Excellent!

Although, while it was busy and fun and full, the show was still a very subdued version as compared to the San Diego of a few years back.  --Actually, I found it very interesting to look at my only other trip there, (in 1995), in retrospect.  It's neat to see the surreal effect gobs of money and popularity can have on people.  The last time I was in San Diego, wayyy back when I had only just published the sixth issue of T&K, even through the sparkle and dazz which filled my eyes back in the beginning, (as many a young entrepreneur is apt to be smitten), I was still very much aware that the whole comics industry was top-heavy and kind of nuts.

Here's one example:

James Owen, the guy who wrote a book called 'Starchild', and Dave Sim, creator of 'Cerebus' had several months earlier made a bet.  Dave bet James that James couldn't perform a difficult task.  (I believe that task in question was to put out a monthly book three months in a row, but a small part of my memory suggests that Dave bet that James couldn't lose 40 pounds from his waist-line in five weeks.  But my memory may well be garbled on this point. . .)  Anyway, whatever difficult task it was, Dave bet James that he couldn't do it, and James bet Dave that he could.  They agreed that the loser would sponsor a giant pizza party for the winner and 200 of the winner's closest friends.  A big dumb bet.

Anyway, James drew and drew and drew, (or rode himself half to death on an exercise bike?), I don't know.  Either way, James told everybody that he won the bet.  He also told everybody that Dave was a big pussy and had blown the whole thing off, saying that the bet was never on or something like that, and whatever had been agreed to, he wasn't going to be buying James any giant pizza party.  At least, that's how James tells it, and I've never bothered to ask Dave for his side of the story, so who knows?)

The long and short of it was that James ended up feeling annoyed and decided that he wanted to make a big loud stink about Dave being a pussy, and to do it in a gentlemanly way, he decided to throw his own giant pizza party for himself.  I was one of his lucky guests, (making me one of James Owen's 200 closest friends).  The party was held one night during the 1995 San Diego comic convention, neatly jostled in with a dozen other big, surreal events nobody has a very clear recollection of, but which everybody swears happened.

Among those surreal events, (or so a small part of my memory suggests),  was that a big and very famous Image guy who's name I can't recall, (not unlike the names of a great many very famous people), put somebody in a headlock and punched him a few times for some reason or other. I don't know the reason, but who knows, and who cares?  The convention; heck the industry was like one big highschool party.  --And what kind of highschool party is it if there's no fight?

Anyway, that's the kind of thing I'm talking about.  Give enough people enough money and fame, and everybody goes wonky.  --Which is fine by me.  Wonky can be fun so long as you keep your perspective, otherwise you might wake up in Tijuana with a hangover, and your issue will get delayed 4 or 5 months.

This year however, things were very sober.

I went down with Tara Tallan, and Greg Beattam and we erected our booth and hung out our shingle.  We talked with hundreds of people, drew a mess of pictures, and met some of the coolest readers this side of the map.  (And a couple from the other side!)

Heh. 

I met more Hollywood people who expressed great an interested in my work, some of whom were actually really cool.

I even had a fan-boy experience:  I was grabbed by security staff when I met Anthony Stewart Head; the English bloke who has worked in certain coffee commercials and currently plays 'Giles' on Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  (Everybody I know watches the popular teens-verses-vampires show with great delight.  It's really quite good, for those of you who haven't seen it.)

Anyway, I saw Mr. Head walk past the booth surrounded by a ring of guys with walkie-talkies, and I knew Carson, the biggest Buffy fan there is, would be proud of me if I managed to shake Mr. Head's hand.  (Carson actually broke onto the secret & well hidden Buffy set, which he ran across through pure chance during a holiday down to L.A., because serendipity follows Carson wherever he goes.  Nobody was working the day he broke on, so he he took a bunch of pictures, and when he came home, knowing the secret location of the beleaguered set, tracked down a bunch of satellite photos on the Net, which he now has labeled and posted on a web-site.  (Click here to see them if you must, though be warned, he has cropped the images down so nobody could possibly figure out the actual location of the set by examining them.  (They're also painfully fuzzy.)  He insists this is the only responsible course to take, since it would be shameful if, oh, I don't know. . , rabid fans used the information to break onto the set and swipe stake props or something.  I heartily agree.).  Anyway, I felt it necessary to shake Mr. Head's hand.  So I did, though I had to rather rudely interrupt somebody's excited conversation with the man, (while Mr. Head nodded and smiled politely as one often does with over-excited fans).  I also gave him a run of the T&K volumes, which he accepted with grace.

And so that was my fan-boy experience, which I enjoyed very much.  Bully for me!

Anyway, after a week of conventioning during which many deals were struck, many excellent people met, and a fine time was had by all, we packed up our things and came home.

Among those deals, it looks like I'll be heading down again next year to the big show in order to participate in something called 'Indy Island', which will be a massive set of booths on prime convention floor real-estate complete with fake palm trees and bamboo furniture and stuff.  The affair is the brain child of Mark Thompson of Cold Cut Distribution, my old friends, and I'm looking very much forward to going next year.

I have a million and one other stories from the show I'd like to share, but I've run out of typing energy and I've still got about 10 other pages to update on the site, plus a new comic strip to post, so I'll stop writing now.  And I've got the Toronto show to attend, starting tomorrow!  Whew!

Take care all!
 

-Mark