This was my third year going to the amazing San Diego Con. Getting prepared, I wasn’t nearly as excited or anxious as I had been the first couple times. I knew basically how it worked now, and what I could expect, and generally what would be going on all week. I had seen it all, twice. I had done portfolio reviews. I had listened to presentations. I’d begun to meet some artists. This time, I wasn’t up for doing most of that stuff anymore, and I didn’t know what would be left to do. I didn’t know what I wanted to accomplish by being there.
I had committed myself to the idea of self-publishing by now, so I didn’t have any intention of waiting in portfolio review lines this year. I thought I could show my work to artists and try to get some more pin-ups. I’d already gotten a few. I’d gotten one in the mail from Thomas Yeates that actually took my breath away, when I got it in the mail and opened the package. So this year, at the con, I just planned to go with the flow and see what happened.
I had visited the website beforehand, and I wasn’t particularly excited by the list of special guests. And the website didn’t list all the professionals who would be attending, the way the Wondercon website had done. So I wondered just how many other artists would be there at all this year.
I kind of figured maybe there would be a few people who weren’t listed, but I should have had more faith. Every year, people told me, everyone just kind of shows up at San Diego. You’ll just be walking around the con, and realize someone’s hanging out at a booth. But for some reason, I just didn’t think it would be the case this year, for some reason.
THE HOTEL
We flew down and got to the hotel, and realized, for the second year out of three, there were problems. And never mind that the two years we had problems, I was the one who’d made the reservation plans (not my wife). The hotel didn’t have any record of our reservation. They said they could squeeze us in somewhere for Thursday and Friday night, but couldn’t guarantee Saturday. By Saturday, we were pretty exhausted and felt we’d done enough that we could call the trip a success, so we found an early flight home, and left early. It turned out the hotel had managed to fit us in that next night, but it was too late, so we thanked them for their efforts, apologized and left early.
Having checked in, we walked through town. It was afternoon, and we should have eaten a few hours ago, and our blood sugar levels were getting low. But that’s when I thought, we should probably pop over to the convention, just to pick up a schedule of events and see exactly what was happening this year, and who would be there. We needed to eat, but Elizabeth agreed to grab a bite at the con, because I was suddenly starting to get manic now.
So we got in, and Elizabeth grabbed some so-so food at the food court and sat down and started eating. And I started flipping through the schedule and realizing, every page I turned, how many artists would be there that I hadn’t expected. And Elizabeth is trying to calm me down, as my voice is getting higher with each shocked, foul exclamation and new artist’s name I scream out with glee. All of a sudden, I couldn’t eat. I had to start running around all over the place and looking for all these artists. I forced down a couple bites that my body was too amped to appreciate, and got moving. Elizabeth let me go, because she could see what a spazz I’d become.
I remember each night, in the hotel room, staying up late, studying the program lists to try and figure out exactly where everyone would be and when. Making a game plan, and so excited about it. Hoping I could coordinate everything so I could try and meet everyone I would like to meet. Elizabeth would fall asleep, while I’m still sitting up in bed with the light on, cross-referencing comics panels and autograph signing times and artist alley locations and what booths would be featuring what artists and when. I’m making charts and graphs of all my schedules. Finally turning off the light, and not being able to get any sleep. As the week wore on, feeling more and more out of reality, my increasingly sleepless state and constantly kicking adrenaline making me light-headed and spaced-out.