October 14, 2015

Comic Con! Those Personal Connections and a free preview!

The 2015 version of New York Comic Con is raging as I type this, and I find myself missing it again sitting here in South Florida. I can't really complain much though, this area of the world has at least three conventions now that Wizard World brought their Ft. Lauderdale Con entry into the field, even if none of them are what we'd consider "major" shows like NYCC.

But is missing the "major" shows necessarily a bad thing?


The first job I ever had was working tables at card and comic shows in the early 90's as a teenager. They were everywhere at the time, a different show a night from Friday through Sunday in VFW halls and church basements. The big draw was always some older star like Wrestling legend Bruno Sammartino. And maybe you were lucky enough to catch a "Creation Convention" at a venue as illustrious as the NY Penn Hotel where you could possibly meet Frank Gorshin, the original Riddler, and Adam West at the same show. But that was about as big as it got. This was way back when Doomsday killed Superman but you couldn't actually read the issue unless you bought two copies so that you didn't lose your books value by opening the bag. I still have that damn bag and it's only worth about 17 bucks.

I loved everything about those shows though, especially the personal connections you made "working the circuit". To this day it's still the most fun I've ever had working, and it inspired things like the scene I wrote for my novel which I've left at the end here for you to enjoy. 


Just the other night a buddy of mine, and the inspiration behind the now infamous Roberto Vega, sent me a text saying "There was nothing like that first NY Comic Con we went to". That was the 2010 installment, and he was right. But it was specifically that personal connection that I had mentioned that made the show such a highlight. That show I met Ross Richie of BOOM Studios!, who still takes the time to give advice, and Lauren Francesca, one of Playboy's 25 Hottest YouTube Stars. And I'm not talking about the paying a hundred bucks for a picture and an autograph type of meeting, these are people I still talk to from time to time.

Me with Lauren Francesca

By the next year, 2011, while I did get a lot of great material to write about in this space, such as 2011 Comicon - Personality.... it goes a long way.... or one of my personal favorites, what NOT to do.... Being remembered the wrong way, the place had gotten so packed that you could barely walk the show room floor anymore, and forget about actually meeting professionals in the business.

In 2012 I was there with my wife, who was five months pregnant at the time, and things had grown so out of control that we couldn't even take in the entire show due to safety risks. After all, who wants their wife and kid stampeded so that they can get a gander at an unoriginal print? Not this guy, and probably not you either.

Look at how packed that is. You can't move in there!

Later on in the day I half joked with Lauren that I had wanted to introduce her to my wife, but didn't want to subject her to that. The 'that' which I speak of was mob that surrounded the booth she was working. It was so deep the only way through was with a snow plow, and that wasn't unique to her, it was the same everywhere you went inside the convention center. There gets to be a point where too much becomes, well, too much. And so I stopped subjected us both to that.

Just recently I had read that the major studios such as Marvel and DC had stopped using any Cons outside of San Diego to promote their upcoming events. Apparently, between the huge costs involved and their ability to go right to where the fans are all the time, at home, it didn't make much business sense to keep up the practice.



Armed with this knowledge, and the desire to introduce my kid to something new, something that gave me so much joy over the years, we took a shot and checked out the Florida Supercon. There were no enormous displays, no studios trying to blow away the competition, just comics, and collectibles, and fans. Plenty of stars came out for the event, a ton of them really, but they weren't inaccessible. You could reach right out and grab them, as I did wrestling star Tito Santana. And it reminded me exactly of all those shows I worked and loved in the hallowed halls of the Knights of Columbus, only on a much larger scale.

Dean Cain

My kid had such a good time that she went on about it for weeks on end afterwards. So much so that I took her to Wizard World Ft. Lauderdale where my two and half year old was able to see Superman (Dean Cain) in real life, yell "Goonies Never Say Die" at Sean Austin, and the highlight of the day, say "Hello Highlander" to Adrian Paul, Duncan MacLeod himself.

Adrian Paul

Adrian Paul sent a tweet of MY daughter to his entire fan base later on that night. I was a HUGE fan of the show, and now a huge fan of the man for taking an interest in my kid when he didn't have to. I mean, how cool is that?

And it was there that I was reminded, that personal connection is what keeps us coming back; that connection to the books and the shows, the connection to the stars and characters they brought to life, the connection to the shop we buy our books from and the community that's built around it. It's our connection to each other, and dressing up like our favorite heroes, taking pictures and sharing moments with others just like us.....

The Picture of my kid The Highlander Tweeted

And it's always, always been building that same sort of connection with you that's made me love writing and creating stories and characters of my own over the years. It's something we can share and enjoy together. It's something lost in the crowds of those jam packed "major" shows.

Don't get me wrong, I still would have loved to be there, but I can't really complain much. Now enjoy the piece below. Tell me if it reminds you of anything. And buy a copy if you feel so inclined. 
           

Excerpt from
Book II Chapter 7


The comic book show where Roberto and Mike were to meet with Jeremy was being held within the confines of a church basement, not a ten-minute drive from the school that they had just left. One blunt, two wrong turns, getting lost for a few minutes in their own neighborhood, a bout of forgetfulness, and a little more then an hour later, they found themselves walking down a flight of wooden stairs which ended on a tiled church basement floor. It was 9: 47 in the evening and just before new entry would be denied. Vega was NOT happy about the ten bucks that he had to shell out for admittance.
         
 “This shit is comin’ right out yer pay!” he told his partner.
         
“That’s great!” Mike responded. “That means you’re gonna have ta PAY me.”
          
Brown and beige tiles checkered the floor of a cavernous room, it’s ceiling supported by large pillars spaced evenly along the side walls. They entered at the left of this room. Another door was set in the right corner. Exactly at the middle of the right wall was a kitchen where food and beverages were being served. At the far end sat a stage elevated some five feet above the ground. A set of steps led to the top of it from either side.
          
There was a large display atop the stage, which appeared to hold the wares of a single vendor. Tables were set along the other three walls with just enough space between to allow comic merchants room to work. There were more placed at the center of the room in a large enclosed rectangle, separating the buyers from the sellers.
          
“Look at all these clowns!” Vega exclaimed, “How the fuck we gonna know one slob from anotha, much less pick out yer boy?”
          
In the five minutes since they had walked through the door they had already spotted numerous comic book heroes, a few Jedi, a couple of incarnations of the Highlander, and the entire crew of the starship Enterprise…. from every one of the shows. And this wasn’t even a major convention. Oh, yeah, there were a few normal looking people walking around as well.
          
“Let’s just take a look around an see what we find.” Mike said. “There may even be somethin’ worth pickin’ up.”
          
“I knew ya were one a these cocksuckas!”
          
Mike just shrugged his shoulders.  


          
They moved from table to table, Mike seeing almost the same exact product (newly released issues available at any store or newsstand) at almost every stop. Vega shook his head the entire time in disbelief.
          
“What the FUCK?” Vega wondered, staring at a half ton man in green face paint, pit stains two feet long. “Look at this fat green fuck ova here!”
          
“Klingon.” Mike told him.
          
“WHAT?!”
          
“Fat Klingon fuck.” Mike explained. “He’s a Klingon.”
          
“He’s a dirty piece a shit is what he is.” Vega responded. “An he smells like one too!”
          
“Do ya see this?” Mike asked, ignoring Roberto’s insults and pointing to the tables around them. “This is exactly the reason I stopped collectin’. Used ta be ya go to a show ta try an fill in yer back issues, ya know, get a couple deals, find somethin’ ya neva knew was out there.”
          
“Ugh” Vega grunted. He didn’t give a shit, but once Mike started ranting, the bullshit had to fly, the buffoonery run its course.
          
“Every single one a these people are sellin’ the same exact shit!” Pellegrino continued. “An ya’d think, since it’s all still on the shelves, that they’d discount the price some, but no, cova price, same as the guy next ta him an the one next ta that. Ya know what I’m sayin?”
          
“Yeah, yeah” Roberto told him. He lied. Vega had already stopped listening.
          
“An the comic companies themselves aren’t any better.” Mike went on. “They almost put themselves out a business. Continuous eight comic crossovers forced ya ta buy titles ya didn’t want just ta get one story arc. Poly-bags that ya can’t open cause you’ll ruin the value, so ya have ta buy two if ya actually wanna READ the book. An if that’s not enough, slap a chromium cova on the fucker an charge five bucks for a single issue. Not that it matta’s anymore, everythin’s three dollas’ a book now. Who can AFFORD ta collect anymore?”
          
“What are ya fuckin cryin about, man?” Vega asked. “Quit bitchin.”
          
“Dukes a Hazard lunch box?” Mike said to Roberto quizzically, holding the tin pail in his hands. It was stained and rusted. “This guy wants a hundred bucks fa this piece a shit, an it’s all fucked up.”
          
Pellegrino turned to the vendor selling that particular product. “Hey guy”, he asked “does the dirt come with this too?” The man mumbled something beneath his breath with a snarl as the investigators walked away.
         
Vega began to laugh out loud. Very loud. So loud in fact that it turned the odd looks on HIM. How’s that for some role reversal?
          
“Ya know, ya can really be an asshole when ya wanna be.” referring to the five customers that walked away from the table where Mike had inquired about free filth. “That’s some funny shit.”
          
“Yeah, well, that guy deserved it, hundred dolla lunch box. He’s gotta be up on the stage, it looks like the only place that’s got anythin’ worth lookin’ at.”
         
“Good, cause I wanna get this shit ova with an get the fuck outta here.” Vega finished.



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