Things start on Friday night when Sara and I attend The Laughing Ogre party. It's terrific. Visiting shops like the Ogre in Columbus or Big Planet in Bethesda can fool you into thinking we've got a real industry. Gib Bickel runs an *AMAZING* store. It's worth whatever trip you have to make. I never make it to the back room to hear the band that's playing, opting instead to stand near the refreshment table and keep myself "refreshed."

I meet and chat with a bunch of folks. Jim Ottaviani and I talk about the next Two-Fisted Science book, FALLOUT, and I confirm my interest in illustrating a lengthy story. Jim has some great people lined up for this one, including one of my favorite living figurative artists.

Chris Oarr berates me-- he thinks my French cuffs are too long. Scott Mills respectfully disagrees, and offers me a pork rind.

There's what can only be described as an altar to Cerebus set up near the front door. This is clearly a shop that likes black and white books. They're also pushing the hell out of Warren Ellis. His display is more of a votive shrine.

I do a bit of shopping. Tart Jen keeps recommending books, and I keep saying: "got it," "got it," "I'm comped on that one," "got it." I end up picking up the latest issue of Eddie Campbell's Bacchus, a new David Collier book, "Surviving Saskatoon," (It's quirky-- half autobio, half true-crime. I recommend it.) "Arms Length" by Xeric winner Mark Price, and a couple of Gladstone Carl Barks albums. ("Trala La" and "Back to the Klondike.")

Eddy Newell gives me some details on his new projects. I'm not sure if I'm allowed to talk about them, but one of them is going to knock everyone's socks off. Eddy has been one of those remarkable talents that the industry takes for granted. I think this project will change that.

Paul Jenkins disappears, then reappears with more Guiness for everyone. Another stereotype reinforced.

Sean McKeever, I learn, has clawed his way into the industry. Welcome aboard Sean! Someone asks me how is it in the biz, and I tell them it's like wearing a big furry rodent costume, working in a live-action "Whack-a-mole" game.

Chris Sprouse is in the corner over there and we never get to hang out, though we exchange feeble waves throughout the weekend. Sad truth of con life, folks.

The con itself. I had my best Mid-ohio show ever. Brian Bendis' readers clearly had a lot to do with it. I was lucky enough to be placed at a table facing the Oeming/Bendis/Mack/Lee wall of fame, and spent the weekend selling WHITEOUT to people when they finished visiting the big four.

I like the new venue, the Hilton, a lot more than the Adams Mark. It's in Easton Center, which is basically a big outdoor shopping mall, which fortunately means lots of free parking. I hope it works out. The old venue enforced an unfortunate hierarchy on the guests, consigning some to an obscure room on a different floor. There's nothing like that here, and it all seems to work a lot better.

Mike Oeming and I talk a little Toth. Then he's swarmed by adoring POWERS readers, and for hours, his world is out of control. Later, during a lull, I see him bouncing his son on his knee, and they're the only two people on the planet.

Lots of sketches- a Carrie for Bala Menon. ( I ask Bala to recommend some Barks stories, and he suggests "Trala La" and "Back to the Klondike.") A Lily Sharpe/Tara Chase for Denny, some superguys, a pen and ink fairy, and an inky portrait of Scott Mills' dogs/muses, Bubba and Smoot.

John Greiner is pushing his zines like a madman. This guy really knows how to work a table.

Andy Lee has covered his corner with those glorious, enormous rice paper brush drawings of his. The guy singlehandedly raises the tone of a con just by setting up. He accepts a commission from me and draws a mind-blowing Carrie Stetko. Throughout the show, I keep pulling it out of the bag where I've stashed it, and I'm smiling so much my face hurts.

Greg McElhatton and I talk the whos and hows and whys of SPX.

Once again, I'm pushing Sean Bieri's JUMBO JAPE on people. Sean is passing around a fun new gag mini and has produced a pornographic novelty toy that's truly fucking hilarious. I really hope some visionary publisher notices Sean's talent and offers to put his work in wider circulation.

I draw my first MORNING DRAGONS quickie sketch- just a samurai in Heian period armor. It takes about half an hour, and contains more detail than I usually put on a cover. I'm going to have to learn to streamline my samurai for doodle purposes.

On Saturday night, Sara and I join Jim O and his wife Kat for dinner at a downtown sushi place called Haiku. Good stuff, and the guests are encouraged to write haiku and pin them on wall boards by the tables. My favorite is from a little kid. The last line was "I enjoy turkey."

Later, at the hotel, Chris Oarr announces: "I like things that are funny. All I want is a good laugh." He gets one when Jeff Smith explains the McRib.

I'm offered money to ink a beautiful Daryl Banks pencil sketch, but turn it down. It's perfect as is.

On Sunday, for the first time in my life, I'm early for a panel, and the preceding one is still going on. As I enter, one of the speakers gestures towards me and says "...like Steve Lieber, for instance-" and everyone laughs.

At the panel I'm on, ("Storytelling" with Eddy Newell, Daryl Banks, Leonard Kirk and Greg Land) the audience is barely larger than the panel. I remember a piece of advice I got from Karen Joy Fowler (who got it from Tim Powers). "When you go somewhere to speak, put a twenty dollar bill in your pocket. If it's enough to buy everyone in the audience a beer, do that instead." So I do, and run off the panel to the hotel bar, returning with a loaded tray. Most of the audience prefers soft drinks on a Sunday afternoon, so I get to keep half my twenty. This story has already come back to me in seven different versions.

I do a brief interview for Rob at the Comics Continuum, and find that I use geeky words like "psyched" and "awesome" far more in conversation at a con than I ever would in an email interview. I do, however, take special care to nail down the spelling of "coquille."

It falls to Paul Jenkins to explain just what an allegory is to Lee, who is nevertheless beginning to collect some cool sketches in her allegory sketchbook.

Brian Kane has done me a huge favor. He's brought me a stack of copies of astounding pen and ink illustrations by Daniel Vierge. Unbelievable stuff. We gave in wonder making goofy cooing noises, like pigeons watching fireworks.

Looking at portfolios, I see two people I've critiqued before. One tells me that he's taken my advice and indeed, he's gotten a lot better, putting together a nice style and ridding his work of practically every flaw I'd identified the last time we spoke. The other paid no attention whatsoever and hands me a portfolio that contains, along with his largely unimproved new stuff, most of the same fucked up pieces he was showing last year. You win some, you lose some.

And then, after dinner with Jim & Kat, and Sean and Matt, Sara and I are off, discussing a new comics project we're planning. I try to convince her to jerry-rig a book tour to coincide with next year's shows. She says I'll have to teach her how to draw something, a braid maybe, for when she signs her books. I indulge myself in a bit of wiseass superiority. She'll have to learn a lot more than that.

life drawing gallery | portfolio| ranting | appearances | Comicspace site | home