Diary of a Struggling Comics Artist

Sept 17, 2005

We went to straight to bed, once we found our hotel, then got up, showered, packed for our trip home (so we could leave straight from the con), and headed back to the con. We made even less money the second day than our pathetic first day!

We saw Mark Waid at breakfast, and good ol’ Elizabeth sidled up and said, “Oh, Hi, Mark,” and visited with him for a quick moment before we headed to the con.

As we came in, there was John Romita, sketching as fast as he could for a benefit auction, so we finally got to say hello. He was so sweet, and said his schedule is way too busy for additional work right now, but he still gave us his contact info. I was elated to get it from him. We talked a little about music, since I teach guitar. He plays organ, and said if he could have been a musician, he never would have gotten into comics. I had brought a hardcover of Spider-Man for him to sign. I wanted to bring two, because how do you decide if you want the one that has only his first two Spidey-issues, featuring Green Goblin, or the next volume, that was all his art. My backpack was so heavy, I couldn’t bring them both.

Elizabeth went over and talked to Michael Lark, and let him know we were sad not to hook up with him last night. He said, when I told him about dinner with Dick Ayers, he wasn’t sure if it was an invitation. Elizabeth said, “Michael, you’re always invited.” He said he saw Dick walking to the con this morning, and wanted to introduce himself, but didn’t want to look like one of those shy fanboys. E offered to take him over and introduce him, but he declined. Isn’t it funny how intimidated we get to meet the ones we adore?

I went to say good morning at Mart Nodell’s booth. He’s such a cute, sweet guy. I found out he’s from Florida, and we’re looking forward to seeing him in February at Orlando’s Mega-Con.

While I was visiting, Walter Simonson had stopped over to say good morning. When I was working up the courage to introduce myself he took off.

E had told Michael he should come out to the West Coast Cons to hang out with us, and he told her that if we could all hang out together, he would. When I went over to see him, I reminded him that years ago I’d found his email online, not long after Batman: Nine Lives came out. I had written him and told him how awesome his film noir was. I assumed he was fifty or sixty, because who else would be into film noir?

I saw he had pages out, on his table, of a Spider-Man/Hulk battle. I wasn’t aware of it; it had just come out. It looked gorgeous to me.

He said he’s taking over the Daredevil books when Maleev leaves. I told him he’ll do great on any of the noir characters, and he said, he does it like Toth, and just takes whatever character he’s assigned, and makes them noir. Then he said, when Marvel wanted to put him on Captain America, he told the writer, I can’t imagine doing Captain America unless it’s during World War II, and the writer said, okay, and came up with a story. What fun.

He brought up the pin-up again, and sounded like he still wanted to do it. Somehow robots got brought up, and I told him no one’s done a giant robot monster yet, and he got so excited, he said that’s exactly what he’s going to do. Said he’s got a couple commissions and he’ll do a robot too, and he’s really looking forward to it.

Adam Hughes was at the con, once again mobbed and basically unapproachable. I tried a new approach. While Adam was visiting with his huge line of fans, I went up to his girlfriend, and told her about my project. I had spoken with her at San Diego. She seemed impressed with my book, like she was familiar with all the pin-up artists involved. I asked if he ever had time for a commission for something like this, and she convinced me that he’s been busier now that ever. His work schedule is really heavy. He’s got a top-secret new project in the works for DC, that could keep his schedule full for over a year. But in addition, he’s got a heavy convention schedule. This year they did fifteen shows, and as a result he’s been unable to finish all the work he needs to do. They were going to try to cut back to one or less conventions per month, to make time for this new, significant and high-profile, but top-secret-for-now DC project.

It was fun visiting with her. Enough so that I tried the same “get to the artist through the significant other” technique with Walt Simonson, who was mobbed every day.

At one point, I saw his line was short, but I soon learned it was because he was going to lunch, and the line was capped. He went to lunch with Michael Avon Oeming. Finally Louise came back from lunch, but Walter remained AWOL. I introduced myself to her, and she was quite pleasant.

Walter got back, and immediately had a crowd, and so I decided Louise was my in. I told her I wanted to show her my stuff, and she took her time and looked through all of it. She asked why Kirby-style giant monsters. I never did get a chance to talk to Walter, but I got his and Louise’s emails from Louise. Walter, she said, continues to be very busy, but it won’t hurt to check in every now and then.

We thought we wouldn’t have to leave the con until 4:30 to catch our flight. The con ended at 5pm, so we thought we would catch most of it. I had gotten directions online that said the airport was fifteen minutes away. Even though our flight wasn’t until 7pm, the car rental warned us that the airport is really busy Sunday evenings, and recommended getting there three hours in advance.

As I’m learning I just seem to fuck up anything to do with reservations or scheduling, this trip was no exception. The directions I had gotten were not for the airport we were flying out of. Our airport was actually an hour away, but only if there was no traffic or accidents. The moment I realized this idiotic error, we rushingly packed at 3pm and left the con by 3:30. As we bustled by, Matt Wagner saw us and shouted, “Chris, Elizabeth, are you guys leaving?” I was really touched that he called out to us to say goodbye. We quickly said our goodbyes to everyone else and headed to the airport.

We assumed the car rental dealer was full of shit, and just didn’t want to get sued for idiots who miss their flights. But it turns out, that airport was a nightmare. We hit no traffic on the drive, and got to the airport right on schedule, at 4:30, checked the car in without a delay, and caught an immediate shuttle to the terminal, and were check in quickly. But the security check was a madhouse. It took us an hour to get through. The line looped back and forth across the airport, blocking exits, blocking everyone’s check-in areas, winding snake-like up to the scanners. We watched a ton of people running with their bags, complaining their flights left, or lamenting all their missed flights. Amazing. I’m so relieved and shocked we caught our plane.

I got a lot done that first day, as far as hunting down all these artists, introducing myself, and getting their contact information.

We barely sold any books. Almost no one came over to our table. The convention was set up so that all the indie artists were along two back walls. It was a gaping, empty area. All the actual, known artists were inside the mass of aisles, amongst one another. We were over by the women’s restroom, in the back-most corner.

As the con was about to end, Lindy, Dick Ayers’ wife, came over and said they were packed up and going to start walking back to the hotel. She told me they walk slow, and she was sure we could catch up and find them. We caught up with them before they got out the door.

It was a really nice walk with Dick. He talked about how many pages he’d done in his career — over 50,000! — and how few he actually got back from the publishers, and how over the years he’d see these missing pages pop up for sale. Once he contacted the seller and explained the situation, and the seller gave the pages back to Dick as a gift. But on other occasions, the people had told them they were sorry, but they weren’t giving the pages back.

Dick talked about his new book, Chipps Wilde, and how the publisher wanted him to do a Western, and Dick said he’d do it, but it has to be in the 1920’s so he could draw cars and planes too.

On the walk back, we met Joe Field, owner of Flying Colors Comics in Concord and man responsible for Free Comic Day, and Joe Ferrara, owner of Atlantis Fantasyworld in Santa Cruz and winner of the Will Eisner “Spirit of Comics” Award. While we were in the lobby visiting, a woman walked over and started talking with Lindy and Elizabeth, and then her husband came, and before I realized this was John Romita and his wife Virginia, the pair had disappeared to have dinner. I couldn’t believe my luck.

Mart Nodell and his son Spencer joined our group in the lobby. Mart created the golden-age Green Lantern, and I found out he also helped create the Pilsbury Dough Man! Next thing I knew, we were invited by the Joes to join Mart and Dick for a delicious dinner. Dick talked about some of the experiences he had just put in the third and final chapter of his autobiography, which hadn’t been released yet. He said at the Angouleme Comics Convention in France, the mayor treated Dick like a war hero (He had fought in the war), had him sit in front, and awarded him with a medal.

We learned Joe Field originally ran Wondercon in Oakland, before Comic-Con bought it up.

Next thing we knew, we were stuffed and it was 9:45. As we left the restaurant, Michael Lark grabbed us and told us his friends were leaving the bar, and he was joining them, so we wouldn’t get to spend any time together that night. We were disappointed but glad to catch him, and he let us snap a quick photo with him. As he left we told Joe Field who it was, and Joe said, “Oh man, I love Michael Lark!”

When my first issue of Tabloia had come out, a friend of mine had gone to his local comics shop and ordered ten copies, and asked the store to leave these copies on their shelves. It was my friend’s way to try and get my book out there into new people’s hands. Joe now told me that it was his store my friend had done this. Small world. Then Joe said he’s actually planned to carry the book, and had already ordered copies for the store, before my friend gave him all these additional books.

It turned out both Joes had published a comic. Joe Field’s self-publishing ventures had guest artists galore, and he only sold 1600 copies. Then Joe Ferrara piped in that he had self-published a book full of guest artists, with only slightly better sales. I told them Tabloia’s first issue had only sold 660 copies. They told me living legend Dick Ayers’s autobiography had sold even less. Of course, those numbers are different, because the book had four times the pages and cover price, but it’s still really discouraging.

After dinner we still hadn’t yet checked into our hotel. We had gone straight to the convention. Just the same, we now chose to go to the bar, where we bumped into Matt Wagner and John Snyder. Both were very friendly and we had a nice visit. Matt mentioned meeting Craig Fleisher, creator of the golden-age Sandman, and I wanted to ask him about deciding to revamp the character, but we ran out of time. I would have liked to have gotten a photo with them, but I missed my opportunity.

As we left the bar, I realized I didn’t know the name of the hotel I had booked, or where it was, and I had managed to leave our reservation info and directions in the convention hall. Between Elizabeth and I, we somehow managed to remember the name, and from there, we scrounged up directions. Oh man was that tense, wondering if we’d have to stay somewhere else and pay two hotel bills for one night. What a great day!

I wound up speaking with everyone on my list who I hoped to find, except my Diamond Distributor Representative. It turns out he had walked right by our booth while I was out talking to everyone else, and even though I repeatedly went to Diamond’s booth, I never found him.

I got contact info for every artist I spoke with, and there were a lot of artists there I was excited to meet.

I found Dick Ayers and his wife, Lindy, early during the con. He didn’t recognize me at first. He said my hair was shorter now. It had been three years. I brought a stack of books for him to sign, and bought some of his sketches. I asked if there were any comics characters he’d like to draw that he hasn’t had the chance to do yet, and he said, The Punisher.

We talked about meeting for drinks later. These plans were altered to having an early dinner, maybe something simple like burgers. They weren’t in the mood, they said, for a fancy dinner. We decided to meet up after the con.

Michael Lark was very friendly, and even stopped by our booth. He glanced at my books, and then asked, kind of shyly, if he could do a pin-up for me. I couldn’t believe my ears. I had been begging him, fairly regularly, to let me commission him for a pin-up, for years. I finally just stopped asking, because I assumed he wasn’t interested. I was so excited now, I thought he’d be more inclined if he saw some of the other pin-ups, so I yanked out all my copies and started showing him all the pin-ups I’d gotten so far. My wife later pointed out, I didn’t need to try to sell him; he had just said he wanted to do a pin-up. In fact, when I was done, he said now he felt a little intimidated about giving me a pin-up, because there were so many good ones.

We told him we were hooking up with Dick Ayers for dinner, but would love to hang out with him in the bar later, if he would be there. He said it sounded like a lot of fun.

See, now that we’d done the Bristol Con, we were learning how this convention business works. We realized now that all these people were from out of town, and had nothing to do at night except eat and hang out. So they’re all looking for something to do, and most of them will be hanging out at bars and visiting. So we’re learning to try and find out where the action is, and hang out with the people we’d like to get to know better.

Overall, I was really surprised by how short all the lines were for all these artists. At Mick Foley’s line, I poked right to the front and asked, “If I get in line, would you let me get a photo with you?” He said, Yeah, sure. It just took a few minutes. Mick Foley looked a lot taller and thinner than I imagined him. After the photo and buying an autographed book, I was fumbling to put my change away and wanting to ask if he read comics and would take copies of my books, but next thing I knew, he was on to the next guy in line.

That was one disappointment for the show, that I didn’t just hand him the books. Even if he would have taken them and just put them in the garbage.

Matt Wagner was friendly and fun as usual, and was also planning to be at the bar that night. Jon K. Snyder III was sitting with hi, and Matt shouted, “Hey John, have you seen this guy’s stuff? You’ll get a kick out of it.”

I took my copies over, and the very sweet, very encouraging and positive John looked over my stuff and said he’d enjoy doing a pin-up some time.

Jim Starlin signed some books I’d brought, and said he was pretty busy, but may be up for a pin-up in the future.

I really liked Tim Truman’s personality. He was real friendly and upbeat and energetic. He said Dick Ayers had been a teacher of his at the Kubert School. I’m so fascinated with Tim’s art, but I don’t really know what it is that intrigues me so. Maybe just because I enjoyed his Jonah Hex series for Vertigo so much. Tim said he would be up for a pin-up.

I poked my head over to the Top Shelf booth, and introduced myself to Chris Staros once again, and told him I would keep occasionally emailing him, and hopefully he’d have time to look over my books. The way he said all right, made me wonder if he recognized me (I think he did) or knew what book I was talking about.

The Simonson and Romita lines were actually the longest, so I didn’t get to either of them the first day of the con.

Chaykin’s line had been long much of he time. At one point I went over just as he was getting up, so I asked him quickly about commissions, and he gave me his card. Later, when I saw only one person talking to him, I went over. It was actually a long wait, because Chaykin was giving a valid, critical discussion of this person’s artwork. When h was finished, I told him I thought it was great that he took that amount of time and care, and he said, Did I? I told him that so many artists just flip through and say, Well it looks good, but he actually had suggestions to give. I reminded him I was the one who had asked about commissions. When I told him I was doing Kirby-style giant monsters, he asked, Why??!? But when I started showing him all the pin-ups, he named each of the artists, and then kind of got into it, being able to tell who the artists were. I jokingly asked if I should cover up the signatures, and he said, Yeah, do it. So we flipped through and he tried to guess all the artists, and he got almost all of them. He didn’t get JH Williams, which was fun, because Jim had told me Howard was responsible for getting Jim work at DC. When we had finished, he said, I don’t know if I’m up for this (doing a pin-up). I told him, the theme is giant monsters, and he could do whatever he wants. Anything? He asked. How about Dick Cheney? I said, it’s your pin-up. Whatever you want to do. I get the feeling he was thinking about it. I felt really nice about the exchange, because the last time I had met him, at a Wondercon, he had said he absolutely never does pin-ups. At that time, he had just gotten into comics again, and was pretty much only doing an occasional cover, and otherwise only writing.

Mark Waid I’ve been feeling like I see everywhere. He is absolutely so sweet and approachable. He had bought my Tabloia comics at a recent signing at my local comics shop. I asked if he’d had a chance to look at my books, and he said he’s been too busy, but said he’ll definitely be in touch.

Editor’s note: This is my first official “diary” entry, as opposed to the “memoirs” which were reminisced up until this point. This was hand-written on our flight back from the trip, with pen and paper.

Elizabeth and I went to Bristol Con this year in England, and then we popped over to London for a couple days and Paris for a few days. Despite receiving a TON of money from our tax return, the trip still managed to set us back about a month’s pay. Not just the money it cost to fly over, stay in hotels, feed ourselves, etc. Also, I’m self-employed, and only get paid if I’m at the local music store giving private guitar lessons, so being on vacation cost me my paycheck for the ten days we were gone. We tried, after that con, to be more selective about what comics conventions we would schedule next. We would have liked to have hit a few more (SPX and MOCCA we’ve been dying to do), but we decided we’d better stay home for awhile and save up again.

However, some friends of ours in Alexandria just had a baby, so that was in the backs of our heads. I consulted a “comic book conventions” listings website which I’ve found very helpful, http://www.comicbookconventions.com/conventions.htm, and found the Baltimore Con, which was about an hour from them. When I went to the con’s site, I saw Dick Ayers was scheduled as a guest, and the more I thought about it, the more I REALLY wanted to go out and see him. E and I decided it would be a good trip, and we scheduled it, after emailing Dick to make sure he would be attending.

I also emailed Michael Kaluta, who had recently NOT been to a number of conventions that he was listed for, and who I’d been trying to see again for some time. Once he cancelled an appearance due to illness, once he declined due to a heavy workload. For this one, he informed me he would not be appearing either, and he had told the con to remove his name from their guest list, which they soon did.

I was excited to see John Romita listed as well, as his line was so long at the only West Coast appearance I knew of, I didn’t try to meet him at all. A few days before we left for the con, I checked the website again, and was pleasantly excited that Michael Lark had just been added to the bill. I emailed him that I was looking forward to seeing him.

At this time, Mick Foley, professional wrestler extraordinaire, had also just been announced for a quick, three-hour signing, and I realized I would be willing to wait in line to meet him as well as John Romita this year.

Other people listed were Matt Wagner, who always seems so friendly, and who promptly returned my email that he would be there. Walter Simonson and his wife Louise, who JH Williams III had introduced me to in San Diego 2004. At that time, he had said his schedule was so full, he didn’t have time for commissions, and he didn’t give me any contact info, so I thought this would be a good time to try again.

There were a number of artists I hadn’t yet met who I was excited about. Tim Truman, Jim Starlin, and Howard Chaykin (who I’d kind of met, and had felt awkward and intimidated by).
I also found out my Diamond Distributors representative would be there, and let him know I was looking forward to finally meeting him, after a year and a half of phone calls and emails getting Tabloia on the shelves.

The reason I was so excited to see Dick is that I hadn’t seen him since San Diego 2002, which was when we first met. I had tried to hook up with him for the Big Apple Con of 2004, but Dick had a conflict with the schedule and a heavy workload to complete, and ended up not making it. I was anxious to see him again, bring some comics for him to sign, and get some of my pages he inked signed (he signed a few of the stories but not all of them, for some reason), get a photo of us together, and hopefully have dinner together with his wife, Lindy, or breakfast, or a drink after the con, or coffee, or any time he had to spare that he was willing to spend with me.
We had left Thursday night on a red-eye flight, slept as best as we could, sitting up in a plane for five hours, arrived in Washington DC at 6:30 am, rented a car, and got out to our friends by 8:30 am, at which point we ate, then took about a four hour nap. We visited, and headed to the con the next morning, leaving at 8 am. The con opened at 10 am.

On July 29, 2005, I began drawing “Limbo Cafe,” the first serious comics project I wrote (serious meaning it wasn’t from high school or before), and which had been sitting on the shelf for eight years.

I always knew I wanted to go back to it. Those firsts are always the special ones. The ones you remember and long for romantically, even if they weren’t really that good.

Now seemed like a good time to pull it out again, because I’d finished my story-arc for “The Lump,” and concluded “Tabloia Weekly Magazine.” I could put out a trade or two of stories from Tabloia, of “The Lump” or Doris Danger, and that would help keep my name and comics on the store shelves while I undertook this next major project.

Politically and socially, I was getting annoyed and vexed by the country’s conservatism, fundamentalism, blind patriotism, and politics. Now this is just my opinion (and everybody has a right to their opinion), but whenever I turned on the news or read a paper, I saw our politicians insisting on the righteousness, infallibility, and correctness of anything they did. They distorted or misquoted facts to support their propagandistic agenda. They told us what we should think and chastised anyone who felt differently, unapologetically denying anything they handled poorly. And they refused to look at other perspectives and ideas. So under this conservative climate, I thought it would be an ideal time for me to release my story of an atheist who dies, finds himself in an intolerant, Christian Fundamentalist afterlife, and critiques all the potential problems and dangers he sees with literally interpreting scripture.

In addition, I’ve been feeling like this might be a good project to try and get some support from the Skeptic Society, since they were supportive of my Dr. DeBunko character. Perhaps they’d be willing to hook me up with one of their religious scholars, and I could get a proof-read, or some suggestions.

So I decided this would be the next project I do. I pulled out all my eight-year-old scripts, and did a quick read through. The story was originally visualized as seven 24-page issues. The main reason for this is that I didn’t really know of any other format. I thought that’s just how you did comics.

Now, re-reading it, I made some changes, and wondered if I should make more, but began drawing July 29th, and figured I could edit along the way.

The story had scenes on Earth, at the Gate of Heaven, and in Hell. It was in the script for sequences on earth to have five panels per page, Heaven seven per page, and hell six. I knew I wanted a grittier style of art for Earth, and a clean, simple style for Heaven, and a scratchity-nasty-dirty style for Hell.

I had been looking at illustrations from Illuminated Manuscripts, and decided each page in Heaven should have ornate panel borders that reference this art form. Believe it or not, the pin-up Tony Millionaire drew of a giant Kraken for my Doris Danger comic had a border, and that’s what got me thinking, as much as anything, about doing panel borders on these pages. I picked a panel border and laid it out on that first “Heaven” page.

I liked how it looked, but found I would have to make the art inside the panel as simplistic as possible, to keep the page from feeling too busy and cluttered. So the borders are intense and intricate, and the drawings inside are almost stupidly simple. But for better or worse, that’s just what felt right, composing the page.

I told my wife how much work it was, drawing out this border. She said, “Why don’t you just make copies of it, and use the same border for each page?” I thought about it, but realized that wasn’t at all what I wanted. As I got going, drawing more and more of these borders, friends began asking, “Did you hand draw all these borders?” They said they’d look at them, and then think, “He couldn’t have hand-drawn these. Look at all the detail. This would have taken forever.” But then they’d look closer, and they’d see the blemishes and accidents, the lines that weren’t quite perfect angles, or little mistaken lines that carried too far, or didn’t repeat right throughout the pattern. And then they knew these panels were handmade.

And that’s exactly how I imagined this project. Because they’re supposed to reference Illuminated Manuscripts, and Illuminated Manuscripts were all hand-made, and you can see little imperfections and blemishes in them, and so I wanted mine to be the same way.

It reminded me of a talk I had with a wood-worker. He told me he had the skill that he could carve a perfect circle by hand, if he wanted to. But when he did, potential buyers would look at it, and they wouldn’t show much interest. So he started purposely putting imperfections and wobbled lines and edges. And then potential buyers would say, “Wow, isn’t this nice? It’s hand made, see?” And THAT’S how I wanted my art to look with these panel borders.

Even though it would take me forever to draw all these elaborate borders, the good news is that once they were drawn, and I put all the lettering in, I could draw the panels in no time at all. So I could catch back up on my schedule in that way. The borders would be so exhausting to hack out, it was a nice break to just whip the simple drawings out afterwards.

In the original script, I had a number of sequences that took place on earth, that could lead to a potential sequel to this story-arc. When I got to the point in the script where it was time to draw these, I did a layout for one page, then never bothered even so much as lettering it. I’m wondering if I will just leave all these sequences out. Or alternatively, if I should just save them for use as an introduction to the sequel, if I ever decide to do a sequel at all. Another thought I had was that I could do three or seven regular issues of the story, and then collect them in a trade that also contains bonus footage of these Earth sequences. So many choices. But it really just boils down to whether the sequences would serve the story or not. I still haven’t decided how I want to handle this.

While putting together the Doris Danger humongous treasury, and then the Lump trade paperback, I managed to finish thirty-one pages of “Limbo Café,” and also to draw borders for six more pages. The last day I spent on this before getting fully distracted into other projects, was November 26th, 2005.

I kept going, and continue to go, back and forth, as to whether I want to release a few 48-page prestige issues, or just release the entire project as an original graphic novel. I think about the pages I’ve done now and then, and I always feel like something isn’t quite right about the story. Is that art not quite right? Whenever I look it over or read through it, though, it seems to be okay. I’m looking forward to spending time on it again, and finishing it up. Only a hundred fifty or so pages to go…

Elizabeth and I went and found Simon Bisley, who was gushing our praises, saying how we’re the sweetest couple. We had a blast visiting with him

After the fun we had had at Bristol Con, hanging out in bars and visiting after-con-hours, we realized we should spend as much energy as possible trying to figure out where people would be hanging out at night, and then going to those places to try and spend time with them. This was a major game plan for us, and great source of fun this year around.

We asked Simon where he would be that night, and told him we wanted to hang out with him. He told us the hotel, but when we looked for him that night, we didn’t see him. We did, however, bump into Mike Mignola. We told Mike about a Dick Clark’s New Years Eve Party our friends had been given free tickets to attend, but when they got there, they found themselves forced to watch all the band performances on a screen. They’d been duped! All the “live performances” had been pre-recorded. And when they figured out what bullshit the whole event was, they realized they’d been locked in! They weren’t allowed to leave, because the show wanted to make sure it looked like the place was so packed and fun all night, and it was a night of torture for them.

We went to another bar and saw JH Williams III, who looked very busy entertaining with his wife. We didn’t want to disturb them, so we wandered around some more and found Peter Kuper. He was fun to visit with. He told me he’d gotten his start in comics as an assistant to Howard Chaykin. I never would have guessed this, because his art is so out there; I didn’t know he ever did mainstream comics. He talked about his daughter, so Elizabeth bought him a copy of her favorite children’s book, “The Paper Bag Princess.”

We also saw Arthur Adams, who introduced me to some DC editors, and told them I’m a Kirby monster guy. Had a nice conversation with Mark Chiarello, who said he’d stop by our table the next day. He said he’s a big Star Wars fan, and bought a light saber this con, which he plans to make a tax write-off, because he’s doing a Star Wars comic. “Reference!” What a great industry, I say! He did come by our table, and I had the feeling he enjoyed my Kirby-style monster comics. He offered to give me contact info for Axel Alonso and Joe Quesada. Wow! He said he felt, based on the subject matter, Marvel should have a first shot at it. He also said “Solo” is his book, and he’s been trying to convince DC to do a “Jack Kirby Solo” book, because there’s a bunch of the King did for them, way back when, and I think he said a lot of it was never published.

The next day, we found Simon again, and told him we didn’t see him at the hotel. Really? He said he was there, and pointed in the direction opposite where we knew the hotel was. But he was adamant, and we realized there were two of this hotel.

That night, we were headed to the hotel Simon said he was actually at, and was going to be at again, and there’s Dave Gibbons outside the hotel. We say hello, and tell him we’re meeting Simon, and he kind of gives a grimace like he swallowed something unpleasant, and then out the door walks Simon. We call him over, and Dave says hello to him, and Simon says, “Hey Dave, I’ve got a Superman story I want to pitch to you,” and he goes over and mumbles in his ear, and Dave has suddenly looks taken aback, and settles into a look on his face like he’s going to be a gentleman, but Simon said something really improper.

I ask him later if he said something to Dave that would reflect poorly on us, and maybe cause Dave to not care to associate with us anymore. He thought about it for a minute and said, “Well, no, I…well…I think…well, yeah. Yeah.”

When we spotted him, Simon was leaving the bar and heading out for dinner with his friends, and invites us to tag along. So off we go. We’re walking along the street, and Simon has a bit of a stumble to his walk, and one of the women with us falls down while she’s walking. We see some punk kids that look and act like they could be tough gang kids, just milling around on the sidewalk, and Simon kind of sidles up to them with a sneer and gets up in one of their faces, and E and I aren’t sure if we should run for it before trouble happens. We don’t know what to expect. Simon kind of mumbles something in this guy’s ear, then backs up a bit and waits, and the kid stares for a second…and then smiles, and the rest of the punks giggle. And Simon smiles back, and the two of them light cigarettes together and we walk on.

On the way to the restaurant, Simon bumped into a parking meter, and started mumbling to it, “Pardon me, ma’am. Oh, aren’t you a lovely one.”

At the restaurant, there were stairs going down to the bathroom. Simon went down fine, but on his way back up, looked a little wobbly. Then he paused for a moment, like he was going to pass out. Or like he was concentrating. All of a sudden, he squatted down and took a big leap, maybe three or four stairs up. Like as far as he could jump. This is a high end, crystal-and-white-table-cloths place. He landed unsteadily a stair lower than he’d attempted, and started to teeter backward. His hands flailed a bit, then grabbed the rail, and he steadied himself. What a show. But I’m thinking, What the hell is he thinking?! I was picturing, if he had stumbled backwards down the stairs, if I should try and help him up, or just keep going up the stairs and pretend I don’t know him.

We had a really nice dinner. Elizabeth and I had already eaten, so we just visited. I told Simon that I hadn’t been familiar with his work in England, so the first works I saw of his were the covers of Doom Patrol, and it seemed like I hadn’t seen anything like them. Simon asked if those were before Lobo, and one of his friends said Doom Patrol was first. Simon talked about how he began working out in the gym, in large part, to help give him a better understanding of how the muscles of the human body work, for his art.

He just published a book of Christian imagery, and I asked him if he was religious, and he is very strongly NOT religious. I asked why the subject matter, and he said it began as just an exercise, and he did a sketch, and then he did another, and another, and next thing he knew, he had enough for a book. I asked why this subject matter, if he’s not religious. He said, whether you believe in it or not, it’s very powerful imagery, and a lot of good stories that make great images.

We had a really nice, personal talk about his family, and how much he loves his kids. Jim Williams had told us the bar he would be at that night, and we wanted to go spend some time with him, but Simon wanted to drink somewhere else, so we sadly parted our ways.

We hooked up with Jim (“JH”) and his wife, and spent a little time with them. I talked a little about wanting to try and shop my projects to publishers, and he was a real good listener, and made suggestions of companies he thought I should try. He told me some of the behind-the-scenes going-on of Alan Moore taking his “Lost Girls” project to Top Shelf. Chris Staros feels it’s a huge, important project, but that it could theoretically result in his company being closed and him going to jail, because it’s hardcore pornagraphy. So the deal could literally make him or break him.

We didn’t want to get too much in Jim’s hair, and started to say our goodnights. They were so sweet; they asked us what we were rushing off for. We admitted we didn’t want to wear out our welcome, but he and Wendy kept saying, Oh, please. So we stayed.

They introduced us to their friend Alex, who it turned out was Alex Sinclair. I didn’t recognize him at first, but figured it out using my sleuthing skills (perking my ears when he said something about what he was coloring). I told him how kind he had been with my portfolio review way back in 2001, and how he had promised to put my work on an editor’s desk. He said he thought he remembered all that, and seemed appreciative to be reminded of the story.

That night, someone told me a very entertaining Simon Bisley story, which they said they heard from Kevin Eastman. Simon is big on big fast cars, and was racing the streets in a Ferrari or something. A cop spots him and pulls him over, walks up to his window, and there’s Simon wearing a Batman mask. Simon says things like, “Don’t you know who I am? You can’t pull me over. I’m Batman.” Then Simon races off again, and the cop has to pull him over again. The cop asks for his ID, and Simon is reluctant to hand it over. Finally he gets his driver’s license out, but tells the cop, “all right, but please keep this under wraps. That’s my secret identity.”

I accidentally found where Jae Lee was, because the con is so huge, you’ll just be wandering along and realize things you want to see are going on all around you. I approached him, and he cut me off to tell me he was exclusive. I found Murphy Anderson, and he was clearly not interested in doing any drawings. I found Phil Jimenez, and he said he never does pin-ups under any circumstances. I found the Hernandez Brothers signing at Fantagraphics, and asked Mario if he could convince his brothers to come over to my booth for a photo, and he seemed stressed and busy, and I wished I hadn’t asked. All this rejection began to wear on me over the course of the con. It’s such an emotional, draining, experience, just the enormousness of the convention. My moods tend to swing really hard. I began feeling like, you know, there are only so many artists out there, and I’m beginning to run out of people I’d like to get monster pin-ups from. I started feeling like, is this my only way to connect with all these artists? And if there are no more artists to ask, and I’ve asked everyone else, does that mean I won’t have any excuse to visit with all these people any more?

And never mind that I’d been hanging around with them at bars and going to dinner with them. Sometimes you just don’t see the forest for the trees.

Overall, the con was a blast. We once again lost a ton of money, but that was expected, even though we had gotten a bigger booth in what we thought was going to be a better location. Elizabeth pointed out how important it is to go out at night and hang out with our friends. This year, not only did we get to spend some time with Peter Kuper, Simon Bisley, JH Williams III, Arthur Adams, Dave Gibbons, and Mike Mignola, we also met Mark Chiarello and Alex Sinclair. We were getting a feel for this convention thing now, and we were starting to make more and more friends in the industry, who would actually even hang out with us.

This was our second year getting a table at the coolest comics convention of them all. Our first year, we’d sat across from Caveman Robot in the cheap “Self-Publishers” area. They had the idea for us to get a more expensive booth together to share, which would cost us each individually the same price. This pricier table would get us a better location with better visibility.

I was left to getting the paperwork in, so I chose for us to be down by artists alley, which seemed to get the kind of traffic I wanted, and which I knew was also where Mike Mignola, Dave Stevens, Arthur Adams, and JH Williams III had been the year before. Sure enough, all these great artists were there again this year, and we were between them and artists alley, which had tons of other great artists. But what I didn’t realize is that they would put us basically in the “Fantasy Illustrators” area.

There was a sign directly above the aisle we were facing, and it said “Fantasy Illustrators,” so if I saw that sign, I would assume that meant the whole aisle was full of fantasy illustrators. And that’s fine and all, but I won’t be looking for film noir mad scientist stories, and I won’t be looking for a Caveman Robot. And so of course, when sales were once again so-so, it made me wonder if our new label helped with that.

As soon as we were unpacked, situated, and settled at the convention, I immediately went over to Mike Mignola, to see if he had original art for sale. I was surprised to see he actually had some pages from some of his books, and not just some sketches, which was all I’d seend the year before, so I promptly bought a couple pages (All I could afford). I asked if he’d gotten the copies of Tabloia I’d sent him, with his pin-up, and he had. He didn’t say if he liked it, and I didn’t ask. I did ask if he’d like some copies to keep on his table, and I wished I hadn’t asked, because he obviously didn’t. He of course was gentlemanly about it, and said he needed as much table space as he could get for all his own stuff. I really realized that I shouldn’t ask artists questions like this, though, because it puts them on the spot. It’s uncomfortable for everyone. I should have realized at Wondercon, when I’d gotten the same reaction from Thomas Yeates. But now I know. When an artist does a pin-up for me, I ask them if they’d like any copies, and they usually say “one,” and I give them as many as they’d like, and thank them, and be sure to let them know how pleased I am with their pin-up, and leave it at that.

I had set up to get a pin-up from Dave Gibbons at Bristol Con a couple months earlier, and Dave said he’d have it finished and give it to me in San Diego. I gave my cell phone number in an email. I went over to the DC booth, and he was there signing. I quickly reintroduced myself, and he seemed excited to see me. He said he had the pin-up, and he’d bring it to our booth the next day.

Sure enough, I got a call at the con, and it was Dave. He confirmed our booth number, and headed over. It was exciting to have him come to the booth, so naturally we snapped a photo. He was in such a great mood, because the night before he’d been awarded an Eisner for “The Originals.” He was so sweet with the pin-up too. He penciled it, and then inked it on a separate paper. He said, that way, if I wanted to try my hand inking it, or have a professional inker do the job, I was welcome to it.

Tim Bradstreet was as fun as ever. He got a real kick looking at my monster stuff, and said he really loved them. I always enjoy visiting with him.

I found Berni Wrightson in artists alley, and showed him the monster stories and pin-ups. Hadn’t seen him for a couple years, and that first time he appeared to really love the stories, but this time, he didn’t seem quite as interested. Didn’t really care about all the pin-ups. Still wasn’t interested in doing a pin-up himself. He had just gotten there, and was probably distracted trying to get set up. I bought one of his sketchbooks, and saw it was full of giant monsters. I went by later, and realized he had a ton of original artwork for sale, and a lot of it was giant monsters. I asked if he had any sketches of giant monsters he might be willing let me pay him to print in my story. He was telling me most of these monster drawings were concept art for films, and the film companies owned the rights to the work. The more I spoke with him, the more I felt like I was getting on his nerves. Certainly not the reaction I was hoping to elicit with a legend I admire as much as Berni Wrightson, so I thanked him and got away as discreetly as I could.

As usual, I popped over to Russ Heath, beginning to suspect he would never draw something for me, and had just been giving me the run-around all this time. To my shock, he said he was finishing up all his projects, and would probably have some free time for a pin-up in a month or so. He said someone who’d been calling him for two and a half years called recently, and Russ actually told him he’d do the sketch for him. The guy couldn’t believe it. I told Russ, well I’ve been bugging you for over two years, so maybe I’ll be next in line. He smiled. I didn’t want to get my hopes up, though.

I tried to approach Adam Hughes again this year, but got kind of intimidated and didn’t bother. I did buy another sketchbook though. I also learned, talking to Mark Chiarello, that Adam is a huge Star Wars fan. I brought that up, and told him I didn’t have him pictured as a sci-fi guy. He said, he’s not a sci-fi guy. He just grew up with and continues to love Star Wars, specifically.

I met Ryan from the band Pinback, who kindly bought all the Tabloias and went home and read them that night. He came back and said he enjoyed them, and brought me some CDs of his band — which I didn’t realize was so well-established in the indie scene. We were wandering around at one point, and he said, “You should ask Matt Groening for a pin-up of a giant monster. I just saw him right there…Wait a minute, where’d he go?” Then we spent the next several minutes trying to figure out where Matt Groening had disappeared to, and we never found him. I even went to the Bongo booth to see if he was doing any signings, and they said he’s at the con incognito this year, and not making any official appearances.

A day or so later, I was just making the rounds, and I suddenly spotted the elusive Matt Groening at the Fantagraphics booth, talking with Gary Groth! Two guys I wanted to talk to! But I didn’t have any copies of my books, and I didn’t have my portfolio of all my monster pages and monster pin-ups. In a panic, I sprinted back to my booth, grabbed some books and the portfolio, and sprinted back! But alas, now both were gone! Drat! Did I learn my lesson! ALWAYS have everything you need to give out as handouts on you, AT ALL TIMES, because you never who you’ll just happen to bump into! Always! Making rounds. Going out at night. Going to the bathroom or snack bar. ALWAYS!

I went and introduced myself to Scott Allie at Darkhorse. He was real friendly, and said he knew I’d come looking for him, so he had read a little of “The Lump” that I’d sent him. He told me that’s one creepy story. I really appreciated that he said that. I told him I’d love if Darkhorse would publish the story as a trade paperback, and he got quiet. Ah well…

I had Elizabeth come with me to meet Gary Groth. He was talking with someone else, and all of a sudden, Elizabeth interjected in their conversation, “And I’ll use that as an in to your conversation,” and she introduced me as an artist of giant monsters. Gary and I were puzzled by her butting in. He had a guarded demeanor, like he knew I wanted something, and was just going to wait until I revealed what it was. I reminded him we’d met through Sam Kieth at APE Con, and he said that sounded moderately familiar. I showed him my monster stuff again, and he politely looked it over, but didn’t have anything to say about it this time around. I gave him a packet of my books, which he took. I think he’s gotten quite good at politely listening to artists making a pitch, and graciously accepting copies of the work. I’m sure he does it every con.

Later, Elizabeth told me she could have sworn Gary had been talking about Kirby-style giant monsters when she interjected. I bumped into him again and brought this up, and he said he’d done no such thing, and was puzzled by her interruption. I was able to smooth that awkwardness out by giving him a flyer to the upcoming panel I was on, about Espen Jorgensen’s documentary, which Gary was going to be in. He said he didn’t know about it, and thanked me.

Over the next few months, I sent Gary some emails, but never heard from him. I suspect he thinks I’m an annoying freak, because I tried to be clever with my emails.

I was excited to be participating in my first panel. It was headed by Espen Jorgensen, who’s putting together a documentary on comics, featuring Will Eisner, Daniel Clowes, Chris Ware, Roberta Gregory, Denis Kitchen, Sam Kieth, Gary Groth, myself and others. He filmed me last year. There was a sparse turnout, and people left as we spoke. I (probably stupidly) tried to talk about my own comics whenever questions got asked. One person in the audience actually made a crack about how he was there to hear the topics listed in the panel description (and presumably not about me). Despite it all, overall I think it went okay. And I met Denis Kitchen and Roberta Gregory, both on the panel with me.

I spoke with Sam Kieth before the con, and he told me he would be going this year, but just for a couple hours. I was quite surprised, because last time I’d talked to him about cons, he made it sound like he never wanted to do one again.

After that, he said he wished he weren’t going, because he had way too much to do, and maybe he could find some way out of it. And then he said with finality that he supposed he had to just go. I told him we’d have to snap a photo together, but hee said things like, “What does that prove? That we know each other? Everyone already knows that, because we worked together.” He was very opposed to the idea.

At the con, his signing was right around the corner from me. He popped by our booth, and said he’d be back soon because he had to leave in an hour. And we didn’t see him for two hours. I walked with him over to his signing area, and Alex Pardee, the third and final member of the Ojo crew, was there too. I was telling Sam, “This would be great to get a photo of all of us together, don’ you think?” But Sam just curtly said, “No pictures.” After the con, he actually called and apologized that he wouldn’t take a picture, and he said he’d let me take a picture with him next time I saw him. I wouldn’t see him for almost a year, but when I did, it was at a friend’s wedding, and did we snap some pictures!

So to prepare the following year for San Diego 2005, an artist who did a pin-up for me printed up a sketchbook, and of course I bought a copy, because I love his pin-ups. Flipping through, I notice he’s included the monster pin-up I commissioned him for and published in my comic. And that’s fine, I don’t have a problem with that. I think his fans would like to see it. The reason I felt a little irritated, though, is that he included a paragraph about doing the pin-up, but didn’t mention where it saw print. No mention of my book, or of me. The reason it irritated me so much is that he wrote notes below all the pin-ups, about who commissioned them, or what he was thinking while he drew it. For my pin-up, he basically wrote, “a guy did a book that this was printed in, and I’m sure almost none of you had a chance to see it, because it had a low print run.” So the reason I felt upset was, well if you don’t think they had a chance to see it, why don’t you tell them what book it was? Why don’t you at the very least mention my name if you’re talking about me? I thought about it for a day, then I sent him an email. I wrote, look, I’m a struggling self-publisher, and I paid your asking price to have permission to publish your pin-up in my book. I lost money publishing that book (I didn’t even make back the money I paid you for the pin-up. And then on top of that, I had to pay for the other pin-up artists, Dick Ayers’ inking, the printing….) I said, I don’t mind if you use the image, and publish it yourself, such as in your sketchbook. But it would sure be a nice gesture if you could mention me or my book when you do.

I never got a reply from this email I sent, which I assume means he thinks I’m an asshole. But at San Diego, I went and said hi to him and told him who I was, and he was friendly enough. And ever since, he’s been as friendly as ever. Sometimes, you just have to say something. But you have to be careful to try to say it in a way that’s professional, and that you’re not an asshole.

Well, it wasn’t a financial success, and very few people ever saw or read my books, but I was able to finish a comic book story-arc, and put it out in print, and I was really proud of that.

Issue one sold sold 613 copies, despite a $2300 ad in Previews and $700 worth of promo posters sent to the top 600 indie-comics-selling shops (which I assume is all of them).

Issue two dropped to 315 copies. Issue three dropped even more, down to 260, even though I ran an ad in the Comics Journal and in Love and Rockets (since the issue contained pin-ups by all three of the Hernandez Brothers). Issue four dropped yet again down to a staggering 194. And the final issue only dropped minimally, down to 188. God, what pathetic numbers. And they just got worse and worse. The fifth issue was giant-sized and more expensive, so my assumption is that, the only reason its numbers didn’t drop even more is that it had a pin-up by Mike Mignola in it. Also, Oni kindly gave me a free ad in the final issue of “Ojo,” and I ran the same ad in the Comics Journal.

As you can see from the numbers, what little advertising I did may have helped the book’s numbers not plummet…MAYBE…but never enough to justify the costs I spent for the ad. The entire five-issue run never grossed me back the amount of money it cost for that first ad in Previews. And THEN I have to deduct out the cost of printing and all the pin-ups.

I felt really lucky for Sam Kieth to have asked me to do Ojo with him, because I actually made a little money there, and what little I made got pumped straight back into the credit card debt I kept accruing with each issue I published. Whenever I looked at the Ojo work, I wasn’t really proud of what I’d done artistically. I wish I could have done better. But I was proud to have helped my friend Sam.

So this was the frame of mind I was in when that final issue came out. Proud, but a little frustrated at what a financial disaster the book had been.

I mentioned it to Sam, and he told me I should not be afraid to contact editors, and send them my books and tell them this is what I’m doing. And then he said I should just pitch a few different stories and see if anything takes.

So with all this in mind, and realizing I’m losing too much money every issue I published, and having tasted a small meal of payments from Ojo, I decided to look into publishers once again, who might be willing to pay me a few bucks a page for my stories. I figured, even if they only pay me three bucks a page, that’s considerably better than I’ve been getting – losing $50 per page, not including the cost of my pin-ups – as a self-publisher. Unbelievable to realize my page rate right now is to lose fifty bucks for every page I draw.

Darkhorse was my first choice, so I went to their website and looked at their submissions guidelines. It talked about filling out forms, submitting in a certain format, maybe not hearing back, signing a waiver, and on and on. And finally I just thought, screw this. I’m a professional now. I’ve self-published five books, and I did a book with Sam Kieth for Oni Press. That’s a real company, so I must be a real artist by now. I looked in my Hellboy comics and found the email of his editor, Scott Allie, and I just wrote straight to him. I included a couple images from Tabloia, and I went out shooting. “I’m co-artist of Sam Kieth’s “Ojo” for Oni Press, and I’ve been self-publishing a book featuring pin-ups by Mike Mignola, Mike Allred, Gene Colan, John Severin, Los Bros Hernandez, Tony Millionaire, and more. I’ve gotten favorable reviews at Fourthrail.com, comicbookresources.com, comixfan.com, ainitcoolnews.com, etc etc. My four dollar books are listed at Mile High Comics for eight or twelve dollars. I’d like to send you copies.” Something like that.

He wrote me back within an hour, and I sent him copies that day, feeling like a real stud. I checked in with him over the next few months, and every time, he was real kind and funny, and just kept saying he actually carried my books in his briefcase to work every day, but was so busy he just didn’t have time to read them. Seriously, this went on for months. Finally I had the opportunity to meet him down at San Diego, and he was once again real nice and funny, but as time went by, I began to suspect he didn’t have interest in publishing a trade of “The Lump” or looking at any new projects I might have in mind.

I tried similar tactics with Chris Staros at Top Shelf, who actually read my first chapter of “Limbo Café,” but said he wasn’t interested. Next was Idea Design Works, who said they’d seen my work on Ojo, but when I sent them copies of Tabloia and asked about possibilities for future projects, they said their plate is full for at least the next year, and AiT/PlanetLAR, who said he’d been reading my Tabloias and enjoyed them, but I haven’t heard back from him since I sent the Doris Danger book. I emailed Slave Labor, who didn’t return my email. I’ve sent periodic emails to Fantagraphics, who I thought for sure might want to do a Doris Danger book with me, on account of I had the impression Gary Groth was impressed when I’d first met him at APE-Con. I suspect I’ve embarrassed myself with the emails I’ve continued to send him, or else that he’s marked anything from me as “spam” and my emails go straight to his trash now.

At San Diego, I met Mark Chiarello, and gave him copies of the Tabloias, which he said he really enjoyed, although they weren’t really DC material. He got me in touch with Marvel, who was relaunching some giant monster books, and I sent them copies, but they sent me a form email saying they weren’t interested at this time, but would keep my work on file.

Lastly, I approached Oni, since they published my work, albeit through Sam. They said they don’t reprint work such as my Lump story, because the reprints they’ve done in the past have’t been successful. I wrote back asking if I could send them some new stories I’m working on, and didn’t hear back from them.

Now I’m not saying that these people who didn’t write back aren’t interested. I probably should have continued sending emails, but I wanted to get my books out, and not take all this time waiting. That’s why I ended up publishing the Doris Danger book myself, and that’s why I ended up publishing the Lump trade by myself, and I may check back in with these guys occasionally, but until then I’ll keep pumping things out myself. Because the bottom line is that I want to keep putting out books, and if I can’t find someone who will do it, that’s my only option.

I’d been told how important it is, when you go to cons, to try and find out where the parties are going on after hours, and do whatever you can to get there, because if you happen to find an editor or someone important, you could make an invaluable friend or connection. But I hated the idea of doing this schmoozing, and always just avoided this kind of thing. This is the con I learned not just the importance of going out to bars during the evenings of the cons, but how fun it could be.

The first night of this convention, we were just passing through the bar, and it turned out everyone was there. Everyone was staying at this same hotel, and there was nowhere else to go. Everyone was there. It was great.

We saw Dave Gibbons again, so I told E, “We’ve got to go over to him.” I wanted to just remind him who I was and about wanting a pin-up, and basically shmooze a little. But I was shy and intimidated to just walk up and say hello. And that’s why Elizabeth is so great. She’s a cute blonde, and she doesn’t know who any of these people are, even though they’re idols to me. So she just walks right up to them, and says, “Hi, I’m Elizabeth. Are you having a good time?” Or something like that. And since she’s a fun, friendly girl, who can get people talking really easily, no one minds starting a conversation with her. So I see someone else and turn around for a second, and when I see her again, she’s already introduced herself to Dave Gibbons and told him what a fan I am of his art, and how excited I am he’s going to do a pin-up for me. And now she’s already done with her conversation and telling me about how he said he thinks it would be fun. We go back to find him together, and do some quick visiting. E is wearing her “Spluhh” monster t-shirt, which allows for some visual recognition of the kind of pin-up we’ve been propositioning him for. He’s very friendly, but we don’t want to overstay our welcome, so we move on after a few quick comments and jokes.

We found Simon Bisley down at the bar, yapping away with some kids. He saw us and recognized us, and got talking, and he’s actually quite friendly and funny, and he wasn’t acting all crazy or scaring us to be near him. He wore these jeans and a three-quarter-sleeve jersey – which it turns out he wore the entire weekend. His jeans were covered with blood, and we asked what had happened to him. He showed us this bloody tear in his jeans, then pulled up his pants leg and showed us this enormous gash in his calf. He had put a see-through plastic bandage over it, you could look right through it, and see it’s about a three-quarter inch-long cut, and it’s DEEP. We can SEE how deep it is. You can see into it, because it’s just wide open and deep, and inside that deep cut is blood, splashing around, but held in by the bandage. “OH GOD! What the hell happened to you?” we shriek and wince

He said he passed out one night, and when he woke up, his pants were covered in blood, and his leg was “pissing blood.” Because of his accent, we had a communication barrier, and were confused as to what he was trying to say about his leg “pissing.” We had to ask if it he was saying he woke up and he had pissed all over his leg, or if he hurt himself so badly he began uncontrollably pissing, or if the wound had to do with “pissing,” somehow. And he had to explain, No, his leg was shooting blood out of it. “Pissing” was just an expression he was using. Later, he said to Elizabeth and I that our accents were hard to understand, which just goes to show accents cut both ways. We really enjoyed visiting with him. He was hilarious, and we were a little afraid of him, because he’s so big and muscular and intimidating.

While we were at the bar, I tried to ask Simon about what art he looked at, and what art influenced or inspired him. He wasn’t interested in having the discussion. I tried to press it and ask it a few different ways, and finally, he just said, “Where did Jimi Hendrix get it? He may have listened to other musicians, but so what? He just came out of nowhere. There’s no one like him.” So influences don’t really matter, was his point.

Elizabeth said afterward, you see, everyone has to be somewhere during the convention, every evening. We just have to find where they’re at, so we can hang out with them. Valuable, valuable lesson.

We ended up doing pretty well at the con. I think having something that marked us as “different” may have helped. In this case, having a different accent, and being from far, far away, might have helped us carve our niche. Elizabeth and I also think that, as I don’t do a superhero book, Europe is more open to non-superhero books. Who can say? We had a great time at this con though, just with all the fun, friendly people we met. The Bristol Con was intimate and encouraging, and we’d enjoy going back again.