Freedom City
John Ira Thomas writes books for Candle Light Press. He also puts things on the internet, as putting them in the hollow oak hasn't worked so well.
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The Saturday/Sunday cusp has never been a strong time for me, con-blogging-wise. It all gets to be a blur. But, sitting with an hour to go before I hop on a plane to DFW and thence to CID, I feel a little bloggy.
Saturday was a swirl of commerce. People are still surprised to find entire books for sale besides pinups; several people flipped through the first volume of The Fairer Sex and were disappointed it wasn’t a sketchbook. But Numbers sold out. Numbers always always always sells. Zoo Force almost sold out; the last copy got held, considered, and laughed over many times. Lost In The Wash did well, too.
I even finally figured out the short version of what Shades and Angels is about. It’s about how two superheroes and a group of homicide cops view the same series of events. Explain something enough times and you’ll find the nugget.
I also seem to have written and drawn Fragmenta 4, currently titled Megacontemplations. I should ship one back to the old First Baptist Church and see what they think of that.
Drawing with crayons at the table really drew people in. I had some nice chats with kids about how fun it is to draw with crayons, kept busy, and sold well. Between that and the Iowa flag on the table (an idea I lifted from the great Pam Bliss, who has had an Indiana flag on her table since forever), things stayed busy and kept the traffic flowing.
Sunday as a result felt very different. I’ve always said that if I went to a con like Megacon what I was fifteen, I’d never want to leave. Usually Sundays are full of wondering if you’re ready and packed and what time is it again and maybe I’ll take one more pass at the movie tables or a Neutro I should look for Neutro, yeah. This time I drew and wrote and felt fine. It’s still weird to think that at this moment no trace of Megacon remains at the Orange County Convention Center. So many people, so much going on, it’s as if it was always there waiting for you. But these things have to disappear and recharge, refill with new and new old goodies or bring the same old $150 Mazinger for you to moon over. Same with creators: despite creating a book at the con, I wouldn’t want to make them all that way.
Megacon is still the same wonderful inclusive gender-balanced con it’s always been. It’s not orchestrated by the big comics companies; in fact there are no big publisher booths; dealers go up front. The pulse of Megacon isn’t timed to incrementally informative press releases about books you don’t read anyway. It’s just a fantastic place to spend three days, no matter which side of the table you’re on.
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Forgot this little gem from Friday. There are a lot of magazine boxes and a lot of movie booths, so I thought I’d look around for some missing issues of PSYCHOTRONIC VIDEO. The movie guys know it but don’t have it (they’re just selling movies and posters, so that’s fine); the magazine guys have never heard of it. At one booth I am directed to the “Old Guy”, who makes jokes about how old he is, be hasn’t the first grey hair. “Ask me something before I decompose,” he jokes. So I ask. He’s never heard of Psychotronic either, and I catch myself patiently explaining it’s from the 80s, which…were…30…years…I have to go lie down.
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So this is us, purple 8 and 9. The day started by me nearly freezing to death. In our area they have some massive HVAC blasting away above us. I was shaking well before opening and I thought I was just being a wuss until I saw other people reacting to it. I purchased an awesome Godzilla sweatshirt to save my life. No kidding.
The venue area is much larger this year, with the room divided in two, separated by a permanent wall with paths around either end. The main room is all dealers and big deal comics personalities. The other is Artist Alley, the tv/movie/everyone else autograph area and more dealers. It feels right. I’ve been to enough cons where half the foot traffic in Artist Alley was people who emerged from the dealer jungle and were burning to find a way back in. This works well enough.
The Iowa flag on my table has produced sales and conversations. Lots of Iowa expats down here. One Zoo Force I sold here is on its way back to Coralville on its own.
Saw Brittany, an artist we met the first time we came here and enjoy seeing each time. Folks are cheerfully taking exclusive cards, and I hit the movie booths with some abandon. I wanted to get Sars Wars for the movie society back home, composed of me, Dan, and Lisa. We saw a trailer for Sars Wars on our last Pinku night and knew we had to see it.
Also nabbed a couple Polish movie posters: Aliens and Apocalypse Now. Oh and the Argentinian Flash Gordon poster.
Broke my vow and ate con pizza. Felt deep shame.
Dinner was at Cuba Libre. Had me the first pisco sour since Chile and a lovely dish with coleslaw on top of pulled pork on top of mashed yucca in a pool of spicy black bean sauce. Why it’s not called Devil’s Tower is beyond me.
Artist Alley in general didn’t seem to be racking up sales. Even the more familiar players among the sketch and pinup crowd could be seen with downtime on their hands.
My trick this con is to wipe the eager look off my face and be more creator-y. I finished the ABC Movie of the Week book (The Six Million Dollar Man, Starsky and Hutch, Get Christy Love, and that Cathy Lee Crosby Wonder Woman movie that sucked so much were all MOTWs!) and started a hardcore Philosophy of Science book by Wesley Salmon on the logic of scientific inference. I find reading at the table makes people feel less like they’re about to catch the hard sell. Plus I think it helps me look less like a sales rep and more like the guy responsible. Though if I’m not careful I’m gonna absently hand some passerby my iRiver instead of a con-exclusive card.
But now it’s bedtime, so signing off. More adventures tomorrow, and no more pictures of my feet, unless you’re into that sort of thing.
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His back was to me initially, but when I saw the machine gun leaning against some dollar boxes, I knew it had to be The Shadow.
