75. SEEING ALL MY PIN-UP ARTISTS AT WONDERCON 2006

San Francisco Feb 10 2006

I had my first "trade paperback" for this convention, and I was hopeful that, as people had told me, I would be able to start making a little money with it. Trades have a much higher cover price, and since they usually collect a story arc, buyers like them as a whole, easy package.

Of course my "trade" wasn't exactly a trade. It only collected twenty-five pages worth of previous story, and that's as many pages as a single comic has. Also, it was oversized. But I couldn't exactly call it a graphic novel, because it was two thirds reprinted material, and fifteen out of fifty-six pages were pin-ups.

I didn't want to get my hopes up too high, but I hoped I would see a little better money made at this con. Not to mention I felt I'd done decently at Wondercon the year before.

One kind of neat thing about this con was that half a dozen people who had contributed pin-ups to the issue were going to be there. I was excited to see them all again and give them copies.

I had requested once again to sit with Ryan Sook and Mick Gray. This time, I was "by" them, but they were on a table together, and I was separated from them by a narrow aisle. Shucks.

I popped over at one point to say hi to Ryan. I say "popped over" because even though we were "by" each other, I had to physically get up and walk over to visit. I gave him a copy of the Doris Danger book, since he was in it. He was so gracious, he kept saying, "Are you sure?" because he didn't want to put me out by giving him a copy. I was thinking, Please. It's the least I can do, if you were kind enough to contribute to it. I felt like I should give him more, if he wanted any.

He asked what I was working on now. I had just talked to someone at my table about this very thing. At my table, I had told the person, "I'm doing a story about an atheist who dies and finds himself in a Christian Fundamentalist afterlife." There had been an uncomfortable pause. I then further explained that the atheist found himself arguing all the problems with people literally interpreting their scripture, and this person breathed a sigh of relief.

So now, with Ryan, I just gave the whole pitch at once, including the "arguing all the problems" ending - so that there wasn't the same uncomfortable pause I'd gotten the first time around. But now, after hearing the entire pitch, Ryan gave an uncomfortable pause.

Later in the week, Elizabeth told me, "I didn't realize Ryan is really religious. His wife told me." And then I understood the uncomfortable pause he had given. Woops...I guess there's just no winning with that kind of subject matter for a story.

Mike Mignola was only about four people down from my booth. I went over to give him a copy of my Doris Danger book, which he had a pin-up in. At that moment, at the front of the long Mignola line, was Nick from Texas. Nick did Ryan Sook's website, and I believe he did one for Mike as well. He had a sketchbook full of drawings of Hellboy characters by a lot of great artists, and also one I had drawn him the year before. Right as I walked up, Mike was flipping through, and I realized when he got to MY sketch, he said, "Wow, that's nice."

Not one to miss out on a chance to bolster myself, and make sure Mike knew who I was, I immediately and blatantly blurted, "Nick, did Mike Mignola just say he thought my sketch was nice?" Mike looked up, and I gave him the Doris book.

Mike Allred was billed to appear at this convention. I assumed, without assigned tables, he would be pretty difficult to hunt down. He had a talk scheduled here and there, but no actual table sit-down time that I could find. I wondered if I would be able to hunt him down, because I knew I wouldn't have time to go listen to a talk.

I later learned from him in an email, that he actually just did his panel discussions, and then ditched the con to do San Francisco sight-seeing. And who can blame him!

Mario Hernandez did his usual stop by our booth, and then come back behind the table, sit down, and hang out with us for an hour or so. Elizabeth and I are so fond of him! While we were visiting, a woman came up and said, "Mario, I don't know if you remember me. I'm Laura. My husband, Mike, is such a fan of yours, and he'll be so sorry he didn't have a chance to see you." Of course, by then, I realized this was Laura Allred, Mike Allred's wife. I asked if Mike might be able to stop by, and she said they were just leaving, and Mike was already out at the car. I was bummed not to get a photo with them, but glad at least to be able to give Laura a copy of the book for Mike.

Also in the book and appearing at the con were Ramona Fradon and Thomas Yeates, both of whom were great to see again.

74. GETTING TO SAN FRANCISCO WONDERCON, February 10-12, 2006

I made the hour and a half drive alone, because it began on Friday, and Elizabeth had to work Friday. We found a friend who was going down Saturday, so E would get a ride down then, and stay the rest of the con.

I get tense and usually irritable driving in the city. I have a bad sense of direction as it is, and I don't pay very good attention and constantly miss turns and exits. I accidentally drove through the Fast-track (We'll see how much I get fined for that), then got lost coming into the city, because there was roadwork and strange bright barriers and signs everywhere that distracted me. Once I knew I had passed my exit, I managed to get going back the opposite direction, but of course the exits had different names from this way. I called my sister, a San Francisco native. She stayed on the phone with me, guided me, and got me into the vicinity. I hung up, looped around, four right turns in a row, and realized I was still in the wrong place. I shouted for directions out my window, went a little farther and looped around another four right turns. Meanwhile, I really had to go to the bathroom, because I drank way too much water before I left home (I wanted to be sure I was nice and hydrated for a long convention day). I finally found the convention, looped around another four right turns to try and get to a parking garage, pulled in, and realized the garage closed at five. Since the con goes ‘til seven, it was a no go, so round and round I went again, getting antsier and squirmier in my seat as my need to go to the bathroom grew more and more unbearable. Each time I had to loop around the block like this, it would take four or five minutes, because I'd invariably have to wait at a light a two, for a minute or two each.

I followed another set of parking garage signs for three left turns, and somehow never saw the garage. Now I'm fidgeting and squeezing my crotch because I've got to go so badly. Finally I just pulled into the first garage I found, and damned its distance to the convention. I opened my trunk and quickly pulled out my dolly and a few boxes, to wheel to the con. Suddenly seized by a terrible desperation to pee, I scrambled through my car, looking for a bottle or can or...ANYTHING!

I found a plastic bag in my trunk, snatched it up, crouched behind my car, and got my pants belt and pants undone. Just then a car pulled up, and I realized how conspicuous I looked, if not downright arrestably lewd. I tried to look natural and get zipped up and get my belt back on. I had to go so badly, I was in agony. I threw the boxes back in the trunk, grabbed my backpack and began hiking in the direction of the convention. I left everything because I had to go so bad, I was afraid lugging everything would slow me down and pressure my delicate muscle control. I would have to come back for everything later. One step at a time. Breathe, breathe...Oh God...breathe...

After a full block I found myself in a dead-end alley, and realized I would have to walk all the way back past to my car to get out of here, so fuck it, I loaded up my dolly and just tried to get to the convention. I'm hunched over from pain. On the walk over, I realized I was so distracted, I actually hadn't zipped my fly up, after all this time. I tried to be discreet.

I finally got to the convention center, a painful three blocks away. There I was told it's being held, not where I am, where it was held last year, but at Moscone West, which is two more blocks away. What the hell did I do to deserve this, I scream, wiping tears from my eyes.

At last, I'm there. I walked straight in, straight to the bathroom, and was peeing practical before my pants came off. It was the most relieving and monumental pee I've had in at least thirteen years. I watched three people come and go in succession before I finished.

The convention was an hour-twenty minute drive from home, and I had left with an extra forty-five minutes added in, to get settled. In the time I'd gotten lost, found, parked, peed, and set up and settled at my table, I was still about fifteen minutes late.

What a great way to start a con!