Letters to Holly

Wednesday, February 15

I'm Doing It

When I attended HeroesCon last year, I developed the heady resolve that I would man a table there this year. I even had a kinda-sorta invite from my onetime Greenville, SC, publisher to join his table. But I was pessimistic about our distinct works meshing. I do superheroes. Those guys do everything but. I thought that I would be better off getting my own table and trying my luck as a bona fide indy comic publisher.

(Not that I have anything against the Greenville guys. I owe them for getting me started and repeatedly asking me for submissions.)

When this year's Fanaticon failed to materialize, I considered HeroesCon a necessity to sell the new comic. This latest issue wraps up the eMMA subplot about the previous robot fight league champion, and I wanted to get that done and out there so I could move back to Focus and the other heroes.  I've gone to the convention site, and downloaded the table reservation form, and cobbled together the $300 for the table.
All I have to do is fill out the form and send it in, but I'm now struck with anxiety.

This will be expensive. I need to print this year's comic. I'll need to get a hotel room. I'll need to eat. How much can I sell vs. how much will I spend? Suddenly, working a table by myself for three days seems daunting. I could do it for Fanaticon, but that was one day. HeroesCon is huger in all ways.

The comic store owner near the office suggested sharing a table with other local creators, and that sounded iffy. What if we don't get along? What if he's a jerk?

With rumors of a new local convention popping up before the end of the year, HeroesCon would not longer be my one and only option. I could just stay local, work a crowd I'm familiar with from that side of the table. But that seemed like a cop out. And after airing my concerns to Your Sister, the second guessing suddenly sounded like silliness.

I decided that I want this. I've attended HeroesCon as a convention rookie, as a seasoned attendee, as a reporter for a daily paper, as a budding comic creator, and as a member of a loose posse of friends. I've worked short shifts on tables for friends. Now I want that last bit of novelty. I want to have my own table with my stuff, hobnobbing and networking and taking pictures of the kids in costumes. Sure, I'll share with someone else if need be. And we'll get along, or he'll get gone.

This shit is getting done. End of discussion.

Your Sister is onboard. She's been a great cheerleader for my comic stuff, and this is gonna be my biggest show (probably ever; I literally can't imagine working a table at San Diego).

I've penciled 30 pages of the comic, with fewer than 10 pages to go. It's mid-February. I'm on schedule. And if there is a local convention, it will be a breeze compared to the Charlotte convention.

Picture of the Day
I just ordered a smartphone accessory that runs credit/debit cards. How nifty is that?


holly said...

yes. it is amazing. i was blown away the first time I saw it used 4 months ago.

hoooray! so proud of you! i don't think you'll be manning a table for 3 days all alone, though. who knows, i won't be employed at that time and could possibly help man your table and con people at the con to buy your stuff!

Gregory said...

If you've never been to such a show, it's a great example of what they can be. Heroes is nationally known as the most polite convention on the circuit.

You may not wanna work a table, but you'd love seeing the sights. Klingons raising money for area hospices and jedi kids everywhere. It's a spectacle.