It’s a wonder, Wonderco-on!
(Part One of an indeterminate few)
Oh, you expected a Tom Waits reference? Yes, he was there (along with his son/drummer Casey and possibly his wife/collaborator Kathleen Brennan). No, I didn’t introduce myself and fawn, though I probably ought to have, as he’s one of the single biggest influences on the way I look at language, which sadly doesn’t get much of a workout in comics. But really, he was there to check out the show and dig the scene. Who am I to intrude on that? Really, I have more tact than I often display online.
So, Wondercon. It’s rotated venues so often in the last couple of years, I wasn’t actually sure where it was going to be held this time. Of course, I wasn’t really sure I was even going until just a day before the show, as I thought it’d be a really good idea to twist my ankle a couple days back. Not so good when you’re planning on wandering a show floor for two days (or two hours, really.)
Luckily, my regenerative powers proved to be Wolverine-esque and I could actually get around effectively without resorting to the Romero zombie hobble. Drove down, reveling in the springlike conditions of sunshine and picture-postcard skies, and a skyline so clean as to arouse suspicion. This was kind of a big deal, as I’ve dealt with a lot of rain since moving up from San Diego (where winter is not unlike spring, only colder and the difference of a few degrees of sunlight).
Managed to confidence my way into getting a professional badge, though I’ve done precious little comics work in the last year or so. Though it looks like the submission of STRANGEWAYS to Diamond is imminent. This after almost a year of false starts and showing the book to other publishers, and even going so far as to commission ten additional pages of preview art from a different artist (making three versions of these pages, all paid for, ugh) to appease editors. This is what we refer to in the business as “opportunity costs” in both money and time (and oh yes, my fraying nerve.) Those opportunities haven’t panned out, so it’s back to my original, original plan of a self-published OGN for STRANGEWAYS. The only thing that has changed now is that I’m leaning towards a smaller trim size in the interests of cost as well as making STRANGEWAYS look less like a regular comic book and more like a book book.
I arrived quite late in the day, primarily occupied with not much more than getting registered so that I didn’t have to deal with REGISTRATION ARMAGEDDON that was due to hit on Saturday morning. As some folks have pointed out already, Friday was well-attended, but not so much so that you couldn’t move around the aisles easily and hear yourself think. And really, it was a good thing that I didn’t have many plans because I ran into Graeme (Yes, that one, Mr. Fanboy Rampage himself) and other folks pretty soon into things, which led to a great deal of catching up and general geeking out (oh yes, and astonished mockery of the Adolph Hitler and Heinrich Himmler fetish dolls…Okay, ACTION FIGURES, at one of the toy/collectible booths). I mean, when you start with that, things are only going to go uphill, right?
My scratchy throat began to demand something, anything, to drink. Perhaps I was just trying to wash the bad taste out of my mouth, but suddenly three dollars for a bottle of iced tea wasn’t looking so bad. I guzzled and then joined Graeme for the Dark Horse panel, in which they unofficially made an official announcement of a Conan/Groo crossover, as well as going over a lot of the horror line that got announced at SDCC last year. Yeah, I’ll miss Mignola drawing Hellboy, but Duncan Fregredo ain’t chopped liver, if you catch my meaning. Oh yes, this also appears to be the year of Robert Howard properties, as KULL and SOLOMON KAINE books seem to be on the horizon. Guys, please, get Mark Schultz to draw covers for them. Pretty please? Also, some interesting new ongoing series announced (and hopefully something like a regular schedule for REX MUNDI will be in order as well.)
The growing pack of comics cognoscenti (Graeme, myself, Ian Brill and many others whose names I’m not remembering because, well, I suck at names) gathered in the hall and then headed out in search of sustenance. Which wasn’t all that far off. Henry’s Hunan (some three blocks from Moscone) fit the bill quite nicely. Now let’s get this straight. I hate ham. Well not hate it, but I don’t really care for most ham. I was recommended the Hunan Ham (spicy, of course) and shook my head at first, and then was enticed by its suggestion of an exotic take on something that’s a hard sell for me. Why the hell not, I decided.
Why the hell not indeed. Wonderful. Along with dumplings and endless mounds of rice (as well as other, unnamable dishes) I wandered back to my hotel full and happy. And unable to sleep. I don’t know what it is, but hotels and I don’t get along when it comes to sleep. Scribbled for a long while until it became useless and then rested fitfully.