Call me an elitist, but although I grew up drawing comics I didn’t read an enormous amount of comic books. Looking back on it, I can narrow the reasons down:

1. Jumping into the sagas of super-powered individuals seemed complex. I knew that no matter how hard I tried to understand everything that had happened in the comic book worlds before my first issue would be impossible, so I was too intimidated to try. I had a hard enough time following the X-Men cartoon once they got into the Phoenix storyline.

2. I was ignorant. I didn’t think I’d be able to tell quality from crap, and envisioned myself getting dozens of issues into a comic series only to find out it was a promotional for Burger King.

3. I was prideful. I dismissed much as nerdy: comics, Magic: The Gathering, computers, Dungeons & Dragons, Star Wars, and so on. I’ve come to enjoy everything I listed here after admitting to myself that I’m a nerd.

So I was content to sponge my influences from the newspaper comic page, which has served me fine. I only referenced comic books when I wanted to know how to draw something realistic or incorporate wild perspective. Over the years, though, my transgressions have become more obvious to me, and I’ve been thirsting for more comic knowledge. Since I consider myself on my way to establishing myself in the comic ind., I thought it would be useful to attend the Wondercon in San Francisco a couple weeks ago.

The Wondercon is a division of the San Diego-based Comicon, which is hip slang for “Comic Convention,” itself a term that presumably carries too much stigma to utter. I attended this shindig alone and alert, and was unprepared for the enormous scope of the mess. Held at the Moscone center in the SOMA neighborhood, the comic convention was wall-to-wall nerdish energy. Upon sizing up the arena, I began looking at the booths and the first person I see is the comedian Brian Posehn. That gives me the courage to soldier on, replete with the knowledge that I’ll be okay.

Much of it was just fat guys with beards and obvious social problems selling comic books out of cardboard boxes, but a lot of it was comic artists themselves selling stuff. I chiefly enjoyed getting to look at the set-ups of comic artists on footing similar to mine (the unknowns). One artist whose work I admired can be found here. The section for the up-and-comers gave me much hope for my own future in comicking, and I fully expect to attend the next Wondercon (or Comicon) as an artist with a booth. Sure, I may be a complete bomb, but at least I can always go drunk.

Though there were a myriad photo opportunities, I thought it would be fun to have a single boring picture.  This was it.  I like the idea of a booth labeled “Entertainment of the Future” being completely empty.  A bold statement, sirs.