It's seventy degrees here in Cleveland, and you know what that means…
I rolled in back to said World Headquarters around 2:00 am this morning after a pleasant and uneventful drive back from New York. Well, there was a moment of crisis when I managed to spill half of a venti mocha on Bob and the floor of my Dad's Subaru. Bob is unhurt, and now my Dad's car smells like these retired Yankee Candle scents. I think of that as an added value.
So, let's get in the Wayback Machine and set the controls for Day Three of the New York Comic-Con.
Like before, I ran into a bunch of friends and acquaintences. They include but are not limited to Amy Wolfram, Jann Jones, David Gallaher, Richard Howell, Ronn Sutton, Alberto Ruiz , Steve Silver, Mike Manley, Jamar Nicholas, and new Mid-Ohio-Con owner James Henry. I'm sure there were more, but my con-addled brain can't remember them all. Sorry to all I've forgotten.
I met a bunch of fans, and did a couple more commissions. One was a Buffy drawing that came out pretty well with Buffy dusting a vamp. It was a complicated layout for a con sketch and came out well. Since I don't have a
I also did a Batman piece for the lovely and talented Alexandra Beguez, who's a fine illustrator in her own right. She was gracious enough to scan it for me. So, click and embiggen if that's the way you roll.
As always, the work and networking thing was in full force. Bob and I may do another Star Trek pitch that we discussed on the ride home, and there's another thing that I may propose myself. I met some other new potential clients, and sold more than a few books and sketchbooks.
On Saturday, I did get to try out the complimentary Oxygen Bar, set up in the Pro Lounge (which was next to Small Press and Artists Alley, so big props to the show layer-outer guy for making that convenient). I pass them often in Vegas and always make fun of them. I'd wanted to try one, but the whole concept of paying for O2 seemed silly when
The tangerine oxygen didn't have much of a scent, but the peppermint did. I didn't try the mango chutney or the banana raspberry dacquri. (Okay, I made those last two up completely.) And by the way, I'm not smiling because for some reason the Javits center gives me chapped lips. A smile would have resulted in a little blood and pain.
I didn't feel particular energized or clear-headed from the oxygen hit, although I did figure out how to fix Aquaman and Hawkman! (Actually, I told a Comics Professional about the way I'd fix Hawkman continuity, and he said it was good. I won't embarass the guy publicly for such a pronouncement, but I'm a fan and it was nice to hear. Now, if only I could make it happen.)
I really like the New York Comic-Con, complimentary tables notwithstanding. It is, as Bob Ingersoll pointed out, an honest to God comic book show, rather than San Diego's media extravaganza or WizardChicago's "Wrestling counts, right?" melange. And there are just too many great artists, great people, and great contacts to be had to miss it again. In fact, I've already reserved my booth for next year.
Hope to see you there!