Pros and Cons

Ah Venice... er... I mean, Seattle.
In a month I'll be back to the town that calls itself the Emerald City to pitch my wares at my very first comic convention, the (aptly-named) Emerald City Comic Con. I'll be surrounded by cartoonists that tour the country in a cyclone of self-promotion year in and year out. I'll see a bunch of science fiction stars from shows I don't watch. I might even get the chance to meet Peter "Chewbacca" Mayhew, and Brian "Comedian of Comedy" Posehn.

I've never even attended one of the these things, yet here I am, jumping in with two feet to sit behind a table in Artist's Alley. I nuts, right? I can't be serious, can I? I'm not a comic convention kind of guy. I can barely visit a comic shop for longer than 5 minutes without feeling a little out of place. How am I supposed to fit in with all of these other guys who've made comics their passion and their life?

Maybe I'm certifiable in some way, but I can't help but be excited, too. I can't wait to meet everyone that's nice enough to drop by. I'll shake every hand and kiss every baby. Hell, I'll even smile if you'd just like to hurl some insults at me for a while (from an appropriate distance, of course.)

Maybe I don't want to fit in. Maybe that'll just make me another face in the crowd. Perhaps a few grand gestures might get me recognized. Then again, I'll be surrounded by guys dressed in Stormtrooper armor, or fretting about getting Brian Michael Bendis' autograph on their butt.

Maybe I could just be myself. Yeah. That might work. I don't know what to expect, so I'll just BE. Oh, and I'll bring a camera, too. There's sure to be Leia slave girl outfits on parade...