So this is the first year since it’s inception that I haven’t attended the Stumptown Comic Con.
It’s always a struggle to talk myself into going. This year I lost.
One one hand, it’s simply the place to be. There are very few places that creative types can interact directly with their audience. There is potential. The right executive from the right animation house might stop by. You might sell a ton of books. You might make a fan’s day. One of your heroes might stop by and know your work. All of these have happened to me, and more.
On the other hand…
People don’t buy physical items anymore. It’s simply sad that a creator can’t even make the pathetic amount to cover their table fee. The underground scene has homogenized, leaving me feel even more alone and like a freak. Creators cluster together, sharing their experiences in beige, twee packages. I don’t do comics anymore, now that my brother burned out. I don’t know if I have the wherewithal to put out the book of short stories that I wrote. Or the novel. The deafening sound of silence and indifference that accompanies publication might be too much for this old writer to put up with anymore.
To temper my bitterness, please understand the context. I mean, I went to SDCC for 20 years in a row.
What does it all mean? I won’t’ be at Stumptown Comic Con this year. Maybe next year. But please support the many creators who do exhibit such as grizzled veteran David Walker, or Michael Russell. Help them earn table money. And if it’s not too much to ask, maybe even enough that they can spring for lunch.