First of all, right off the bat, Happy Birthday Mom! G'wan, you thought I'd forgotten! Didn't you? DIDN'T YOU?

I won't embarrass her by giving out her age, but I will say she's easily the sweetest lady ever born in 1955.

(Just did some quick mental-math... apparently, Mom became pregnant for me about a week or two after her 20th birthday. Great Scott! Who knows what she might have sacrificed, in terms of sanity, had I not been such a little angel.)
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The Kyle Baker Story:

As I mentioned a couple evenings ago, I've been a fan of writer/artist Kyle Baker for about half my life or so. His irreverent wit (have you noticed how wit is always "irreverent"? When's the last time you heard someone's wit described as "respectful and traditional"? As in, "boy that comedian is hilarious... he really manages to avoid shaking things up!") and superb cartooning has inspired a lot of my own material.

Unfortunately, his newest stuff hasn't exactly bowled me over. His art is as strong as ever, but his humor has become slightly milquetoast in recent years. No biggie. He's a family man these days, so I imagine some of the cynical, urban edge is bound to wear away a little.

Case in point, his graphic novel that hit the stands about a year ago, King David (an accurate, Biblical retelling of the story of David from the Old Testament). While I've terrific respect for Kyle's talent (and the subject matter of this book), I didn't care much for this particular piece of work. I felt that Kyle let me down, frankly. So, I logged onto Amazon.com and wrote a less-than-favorable review.

Here's the review:



Fast-forward a year. Kyle produced a special comic specifically for San Diego Comic-Con attendees. I bought the comic when I visited the Kyle Baker booth (he was even good enough to write a note to me and do a little doodle on the cover). The comic was called The New Baker (a spoof on The New Yorker magazine) and I have to say: the old wit and cynicism is back. It's the Kyle Baker I remember... funny, biting, sarcastic, clever. I was delighted.

Then I got to the "letters" section of the comic.

Kyle Baker being Kyle Baker, he manufactured his own "fan mail" (with responses from himself) to print on his letters page. I was especially taken aback by the first letter.

Here's what I saw:



Yeah, that's right. He'd peeled my review off Amazon.com to make fun of it and gave me a geeky Dungeons-and-Dragons name for added oomph. Apparently, what I'd written had pissed him off a bit. It's probably a good thing he didn't know who I was when I met him.

Anyhow, I think I might have almost been offended if I hadn't been laughing hysterically.

Darn it, now I'm a bigger fan than ever.
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Well, I'm headed to Ohio tomorrow for Papa Bear's wedding. It's plane rides all day long and the wedding in the evening. My swell buddy Kris Fowler is being kind enough to lend me his laptop for the plane ride so that I can attempt to catch up on the writing of this musical (on which I'm painfully, painfully behind).

So I'm excited. I love plane rides. I love taking off and spending hours up there with a book or a sketchpad while the Earth whizzes past below me at about 400 mph or so. I love setting my ginger ale on the little trays that fold out. I love looking out the window at the clouds and the wee little city lights at night. Man, I even love those little plane magazines and catalogues filled with over-priced crap that no sane person will ever buy (a karaoke machine that fits in your shower? A bookmark with a clock at the top? A travel-fruit-dehydrator? Come on! Seriously!).

But, besides all that, it's been a year and I have to admit that I miss home. I've gotten used to palm trees and low humidity and ridiculous traffic/parking and unreasonable property values, though. I wonder if I'm in for some culture shock.

posted by Jeremy Bear 3:54 PM

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Wednesday, July 23, 2003

Comic-Con International 2003.

What a huge, flaming, tiring day. I've warned readers in the past about my geeking out on this Blogger, and this entry will be no exception. Ready?

Traffic was a breeze until we actually approached the San Diego convention center. Forget comics, this was one of the largest conventions of any kind in history. We (me, Carey and my friend from work Chad Meshek) waited for what seemed like hours as thousands of attendees poured into the convention hall and made parking a miserable nightmare. In the end, we parked about a half mile away and hoofed it.

I'd never been to the San Diego Con before, but... well... it's hard to describe. Everything that's held my interest in the past 20 years was represented: comics, film, art... huge, glorious displays. 30 ft. banners of superheroes and comic logos and posters. Movie trailers. Artists hawking their wares. Small press. Independents. Big names. Little names. Legendary pros and struggling up-and-comers... all there under one roof.

Heaven.

Right off the bat, I headed straight for the Kyle Baker booth. If you've read my Recommended Reading bit on my homepage, you might remember that I've been an enormous fan of writer/artist Baker for... jeez, about 13 years now. His books have inspired much of my own writing and art and it was a thrill to meet him in person. He was selling copies of his exclusive-to-San-Diego-Con-attendees new comic The New Baker (The subject of a truly outrageous story that I'll explain later). I bought a copy, shook his hand, and told him how long I've dug his stuff. He thanked me and we rapped a little bit about his career and he even told me the Reader's Digest version of how he came to publish my personal all-time fave, Why I Hate Saturn. A pretty nice guy and he even mentioned a few projects of his that I should keep an eye out for.

We continued to walk around and eventually got to the DC comics booth, which was a sprawling metroplex of sights, sounds, and pro talent. Jill Thompson. Brian Azzarello. Bill Willingham. Duncan Fegredo. Dan Jurgens. Names I've known since high school and there they were, big as life, talking to fans and producing sketches and hyping their stuff.

And Colleen Doran had a setup. "She drew Sandman," I told Carey, who seemed impressed (it was still early in the day). Colleen was much skinnier than I'd pictured her.

And Eric Shanower had a setup. Good writer. Great artist. Eisner winner (comic book version of an Oscar). I'd heard he was gay, but nothing could have prepared me for the dangly earrings.

Before long, it was time to attend the Neil Gaiman panel. Neil is still the best. Since he didn't have anything prepared, he fielded questions for an hour. He gave info on his movie stuff and his novel stuff and his children's book stuff and, of course, his upcoming comics. He was obviously tired and worn, but he was also obviously doing his best to maintain his energy level for the fans. Everyone adores Neil.

After Neil, we ate lunch. Hot dogs and coke at one of the concession stands. Chad even managed to wrestle a table away from other attendees. We'd only been there for a few hours and already Carey was showing signs of fatigue. We shared a table with a convention organizer named Ruth. "It's pretty busy, isn't it?" I asked her.

"It's outrageous. I've been doing this for years and I've never seen anything like it. Even sports teams don't pack in fans like this."

"Oh yeah?"

"And the costumes walking around! Darth Vaders and Klingons and Spider-Mans and wizards and... I saw one woman who was naked except for a little skirt and duct tape over her nipples."

"Yikes."

"We're way understaffed. WAY understaffed."

We finished eating and it was time to hit the con floor again. We went to the CrossGen booth (another sight to behold, bested only by DC) and there was George Perez, doing a sketch for a fan. George-friggin'-Perez. "He's one of the reasons I became an artist," I told Carey and Chad. They told me to tell George that, but I didn't. He probably gets that kind of crap all the time.

And Neal Adams had his own booth. Neal-friggin'-Adams. There aren't too many legends in comics bigger than Neal-friggin'-Adams. His was the definitive Batman of the 1970s. The definitive X-Men of the 60s. Oft-imitated, rarely duplicated. Big deal, right? Well, it is if you're a comics fan.

Chatted with Eddie Campbell a bit at the Top Shelf table.

JER: Hey, Eddie. Big fan. I know you hear this every other second, but From Hell was remarkable. Really, really amazing stuff.

EDDIE: Thanks.

JER: What's it like to work with Alan Moore? Do you live near each other?

EDDIE: God, no. He's in England and I'm Australian. No, Alan... well, the stories you've heard about him are all true, you know? He's a mad genius.

Went to the Fantagraphics table (a company that's still, thankfully, in business). Bought a comic and chatted with editor Dirk Deppey (whom I've already talked with online... interesting to meet him face-to-face) about why superhero comics are mostly shite and, unfortunately, non-superhero comics are rarely much better. But things are changing, thank God. Nice guy.

Bumped into a short, bearded guy trying to give me a free comic. The guy turned out to be Steve Conley, who's stuff I've liked for awhile. Steve is literally a legend on the internet... designer, illustrator, producer. Everyone knows his story: he chucked it all to do comics on the web with the idea that banner ads could support his career. He's not quite there, but he's making a go of it. We talked for awhile. I told him how much I enjoyed his work and, by the end of it, I felt as if we were old pals. Nice guy, that Steve.

Then, I started the font wars... hhh...

A little background: comics are rarely hand-lettered in this day and age. There are two big forces in the comic-font-lettering industry: Comicraft and Blambot. Comicraft is an established company, beautiful fonts and talented designers. Expensive fonts, though, if you want to download them for yourself. Blambot, on the other hand, is basically one guy named Nate. Talented designer in his own right, but he can afford to do some very cool fonts on his website and provide them for free (only charging for the "premium" fonts). I've used Blambot stuff many times (on my own site in many cases). Anyhow, I walked up to the Comicraft table and...

JER: Hi, you guys have some really terrific stuff. I have a lot of respect for the art of fontography. It's not easy.

COMICRAFT GUY: Thanks. Yeah, we try our best.

JER: Comicraft puts out wonderful work. Do you design any of the fonts?

COMICRAFT GUY: Me? Some of them, yeah. You have to have a passion for it. I love it.

JER: That's great. Yeah, I also like Blambot's stuff. You know them?

COMICRAFT GUY: ...

JER: Uh, is that a sore subject.

COMICRAFT GUY: No, not really. Not any more. It's fine. He... well, the guy who does the Blambot fonts...

JER: He provides a lot of them for free, which is nice.

COMICRAFT GUY: Oh, of course it's nice. Too bad he stole some of the fonts from us and represented that they were his own.

JER: He did?!

COMICRAFT GUY: Oh yeah. We had a stern word with him and he's toeing the line lately, but... well, I can't say I respect Blambot all that much. That's all.

JER: Sheesh.

Later, I hit the Blambot booth.

JER: Hey, are you the Blambot guy? Man, I've used and abused your fonts many times! Thanks! Great work!

NATE: Thank you! They're fun to do.

JER: Definitely, man. You are truly talented. Say, I never knew there was any bad blood between you and Comicraft. I always assumed you guys were just friendly rivals.

NATE: What do you mean?

JER: Just... well, I never knew you had it out with those guys. As in... uh...

NATE: "Had it out?"

JER: Whuh... Sorry, I probably shouldn't be stoking the flames.

NATE: No, no. It's okay. What did they say?

JER: Well, you know... that you'd... that you'd stolen, uh, fonts from them and... and that's it.

NATE: ...

JER: You mean that didn't happen?

NATE: ...No. That didn't happen.

JER: Oh. Well... that's all good then. Well, don't kill the messenger, hahah. Uh.

NATE: ...

JER: So, keep up the good work, then.

NATE: Yeah. Thanks.

Nate sat back down, fuming. When am I going to learn?

One of my personal heroes in the world of comics publishing is Larry Young, who founded the indy comics company AIT/PlanetLar. Larry, about a year or two ago, was the first guy to have the guts to say, "little, cheap, 22-page comics should be a thing of the past. They're outdated and stupid and who the hell wants to wait month-to-month to find out how a story ends? Enough manipulation. From now on, we're only publishing trade paperbacks and complete graphic novels. No more "pamphlets." It's what the fans want."

And he's right. I'd much rather have stuff for my bookshelf than my spinner-rack. I walked up to Larry and said:

JER: Larry Young? I just wanted to meet you and say hello. You're one of my heroes, man. Thanks for publishing the kind of stuff fans want to read.

LARRY: Are you kidding? I'm your hero?!

JER: Well, yeah...

LARRY: Wow! Thanks, man! You just made my day!

JER: Well... you're welcome. When you issued a press release saying you were done with the pamphlets and were doing GNs and trades only, I thought, "right on! Finally, somebody who really gets it!"

LARRY: Oh, jeez, that's the coolest thing I've... [to his wife] hey, Mimi! Mimi!

MIMI: Yeah?

LARRY: Listen to what this guy just said to me. [to Jer] Tell my wife what you just said.

JER: Um. Okay, I just... was saying that publishing graphic novels instead of... ah...

LARRY: He said I'm his hero.

MIMI: Are you kidding?

LARRY: He said it! He just now said it!

MIMI: [to Jer] You said that to him?

JER: Yeah.

LARRY: I think that should let me off the hook from taking out the garbage for a few days, don't you, sweetie?

MIMI: Forget it.

LARRY: Come on! I'm a hero!

MIMI: Yeah, yeah, hero.

Another really fantastic guy. My dream is to publish with Larry Young. He thanked me again, signed a couple of books for me, and told me that it was guys like me that made it worthwhile. Jeez.

Let's see, what else. Oh, at one point Carey said to me, "Jer, look over there. It's that guy you like."

"What guy?"

"That one guy. Movie guy. Q-something."

"Q?"

I turned and, sure enough, about 4 feet away was Quentin Tarantino. I briefly considered saying hello, but thought better of it. The guy was already starting to get mobbed.

Chad was really into the action figure stuff and he's a big fan of Image comics, especially the stuff from about 10 years ago. In fact, we spent a good amount of time looking for Rob Liefeld's booth (who published the first Image comic ever). On the way, we saw a table that said "Gary Chalk... the voice of Optimus Prime from The Transformers".

JER: Seriously, you're the voice of Optimus Prime?

GARY: Yup, that's me.

JER: Man, I used to love that show! Whatdayaknow! So, tell me: how many times have you been asked to say "Autobots... roll out!" today?

GARY: You know, this would be the first time today. Usually, I get that all the time.

JER: Oh, yeah? Say it!

GARY: Well, okay... [gets into character] "Autobots! Roll out!"

JER: ...

GARY: And then they all transform and roll out...

JER: Yeah... um, that didn't really sound like him.

GARY: No?

JER: Wait, were you the original Optimus Prime?

GARY: Oh no. You mean the one that did it in the 80s? No, that guy's much older.

JER: Oh. Well, okay. Thanks anyhow.

GARY: [as Jer is walking away] Maybe I just didn't say it very good...

There were other celebrities there, though. For example, I saw Lou Ferigno (the original Incredible Hulk!). I was tempted to walk up and say hello, but he had a booth where he was charging $20 to meet him and sign an autograph. Would've been nice to say hello, but not 20 bucks worth of nice.

Well, the day was just packed with cool stuff to see and do. Artist's Alley was filled with pros doing sketches, some mediocre, some spectacular. The small-press section had, as expected, a bunch of wanna-bes, nearly-theres, and no-chance-in-hells. Interesting stuff. There was original art for sale (the Alex Ross table was outstanding... too bad Ross himself wasn't there... phht!). Gaming stuff, exclusive movie trailers, bookstores, retail outlets, free posters and comics... the works.

At about 5:30, it was time for the other panel I was interested in, the British comics creators panel featuring Grant Morrison, the best writer in comics (behind Gaiman and Moore of course). By that time, Chad was tired, Carey was grumpy and I convinced them that what they REALLY needed to soothe the aches and pains was a nice, comfortable chair at a Brit-comix panel. They grudgingly agreed.

When we got there, the previous panel hadn't quite ended (it was called "Femme Fatales" and it was basically a bunch of porn actresses talking about their latest Playboy pinups and their respective struggles to get into Hollywood. The room was filled with sleazy-looking guys and their obnoxious boners. The girls did a pretty nice job of teasing the audience enough to keep them interested and then making fun of them when they seemed too interested. There was a 4 year old in the audience, which made me upset... then I realized that the 4 year old was the daughter of one of the pornstars (who apparently thought it a great idea to discuss the slut business with a roomful of horny men in front of her kid), which made me madder. Finally, the panel ended, and the Brit creators came in. They started with an announcement: "Unfortunately, Grant Morrison is unable to attend. Sorry." The room cleared out almost immediately. We left too. Darn that Grant!

So, with aching muscles and my carrying bag filled with nearly 100 bucks worth of graphic novels and free stuff, we called it a day. We met Kirk Millett (another friend from work who came to the con) and his friend Kim and decided to cap off the evening with a drink and appetizers at a local pub.

It was over and we were totally beat.

We arrived back in Long Beach at around 11:00 PM and caught the tail end of a get-together for a friend of ours who was in town, Kent Currie. We didn't stay long, though.

And that was that. What a day.

Oh, tomorrow I'll tell the Kyle Baker story. It's a doozy.

Night night.

posted by Jeremy Bear 2:07 AM

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