So, I finally made it to a big comic convention. I went only for the day (Saturday) and stayed for about 4 hours.

As soon as I entered the convention center, I immediately got in line for Frank Cho (another local boy done good). The line was long, but in the end it was worth it. Though he refused to do a sketch of any female character (namely Brandy), he did provide me with a sketch of one of his animal characters. He was also selling a limited number of sketch books (of which, I bought two). Though I don’t buy Frank’s comics, I’ve always liked him for the fact that he is a high-profile local talent. Plus, when he first started out publishing his comic strip University2 in the Maryland student newspaper, I would always receive a copy at the office of the student newspaper I worked for in college (Broadside, GMU’s paper—of which I was the photo editor).

Afterwards, I took two steps to the left and got into the massive line for Jim Lee. My feet were already feeling tired from waiting in line for Frank, so after waiting for another hour in line for Jim, I was understandably disappointed when I finally got to him. I presented my sketchbook and asked for a simple sketch and autograph. He told me he didn’t do sketches and simply signed the bottom of the page. I didn’t bring any comics to have signed (all I wanted was sketches), so that’s all I got from Jim. (By the way, I understand not doing sketches for the sake of time constraints and long lines. I just wish they would go down the line and tell us these things.)

I stopped by Adam Hughes’ table and picked up a couple of sketchbooks. He was booked, as far as original sketches go, but he was very friendly and accommodating with signing the sketchbooks.

I picked up a sketchbook from Chad Spilker, then talked to a local artist named Sunny Lee. As he drew me a quick sketch, we talked about the business aspects of being an artist—how much for commission work, page rate, etc. He basically said his rate was a little over $100 per page. I figure it’d be over $2,000 to get him to pencil an entire comic. I think I need to find someone who hasn’t been published by a major comic company (i.e., $50 page rate) to illustrate some of my stories.

That’s basically the reason I came to the Baltimore Comic Con—to observe what happens at a convention and prepare for promoting my own work next year at the big cons.

As for comics (oh yeah, this was a comic convention), I found a few gems at the many tables…

30 Days of Night #3 - $18
Dark Days #1 variant - signed by Steve & Ben w/ sketch; $20
Thundercats #0 (x2) - signed by J. Scott Campbell; $5 each
Danger Girl #1 euro variant - signed by Campbell, Hartnell, Garner; $10

I wanted the J. Scott Campbell sketchbook, but I thought $500 was just a little too much to pay.

Anyway, I thought the trip to Baltimore was worth it. It was fairly entertaining. It’s too bad about the wasted time waiting in line for Jim Lee, but one learns from past mistakes. I actually wish I could go tomorrow for the Art 101 and Writing 101 lectures by some big name creators. I really wanted to meet Mark Waid, but I think he’s only appearing at the lecture.

Next summer, I hope to be at these conventions as a self-publisher and not just a consumer. …We’ll see.

I’m going to face my fears. I’ve been planning this for a while now, but it’s finally time to put the pen to the paper and open up Pandora’s little box of evil. The catalyst for my writing has been a recent writing contest put on by a comic artist courtesy of my current writing hero’s website. The contest is to see who can write the scariest single comic book page. The prize is—not only to be know for having the scariest piece—but have this big-name comic artist pencil and ink the winning story & give the writer the original artwork. Nice. So, I’ll be picking a point in the middle of my planed writing opus, and writing out one particular scary-ass scene for this contest.

So, why does something like this scare the shit out of me? When I decided to write the scariest story I could imagine about a month ago, I decided to use as my subject matter the one thing in all of horror movie history that consistently scared me the most—Demons. I’ve seen a billion horror movies—I’d probably consider it my genre of choice—but the one movie I’ve always stayed away from, since seeing it as a child, has been The Exorcist. That movie really did a number on my young, impressionable mind. Even today, I’m creeped out to no end just thinking about some of the sights and sounds from that movie.

What scares me about the Exorcist (and movies like it) is that, at the end of the day, you know that monsters, zombies and ghosts aren’t real. But demons… They are. And because the Bible speaks so little of demon possession and the details of who can or can’t be controlled or attacked by the devil and his minions, I find the idea of them making their presence known to me terrifying.

By choosing the realm of demons as my fictional playground, I think I can write something that will scare the pants off me, and hopefully off everyone else who reads it.

Before I begin to write, however, I must face my fears and watch The Exorcist again. I need to figure out what elements of that movie scared me, and fill my own story with those elements tenfold. I’m also going to read books dealing with the history and theology of demons. I just pray to God that I don’t open up this terrible box and find myself consumed by its horror. In some ways, I think it’s good to know about these enemies. But I just don’t want the subject getting to me. I don’t want to think about it when I’m not writing. I don’t want these bastards invading my nightmares, or loitering in the back of my mind every time I enter a darkened room.

After four years, the women’s professional soccer league (WUSA) has ceased operations due to lack of fan and financial support. I can’t believe it. It’s a sad day for women’s sports—and for its fans. I’m so glad I took advantage of seeing Mia Hamm play for the Washington Freedom this year (Washington won this year’s—and the final—WUSA championship). The greatest women soccer players right in my backyard—it was great.

What will happen to all these wonderful players? Where will they go—Mia, Amy, Brandi, Tiffany, Trish and the lovely Heather Mitts? Well, the women’s World Cup starts in five days, and you can bet I’ll be cheering for the U.S. But when that’s over, these talented girls will go back to their day jobs. And their talents will go to waste. Damn it.

I dress in black today for the man, who did it first. Go to your wife, Johnny. And hold her in your arms. And greet the Lord you’ve loved all these years.