Feb. 22, 1991
A little convention-going can be a dangerous thing.
When I attend conventions, I do so primarily because I want to. I want to meet the fans, talk with them, find out what they’re thinking, and give them previews of things that are coming up.
Certainly I, and most other comics pros, don’t do it for the money. Unlike movie and TV actors, by and large we don’t collect fat appearance fees (Star Trek actors can command thousands of dollars.) Unlike baseball players, we don’t charge for autographs. Granted, we might make money selling artwork or, in my case, novels or old plots, but that’s peanuts compared to what we could make if we just staved home and worked.
And there are occasional perks– sometimes expense-paid trips to interesting cities, although usually you don’t get out of the hotel, and a convention in Boston looks pretty much like a convention in Seattle from inside a Holiday Inn.
And there’s the pure ego-gratification of having people walk up to you and tell you you’re great. Of course, it cuts both ways– one convention was highlighted for me mostly by the impressive number of fans stopping by only to ask me directions to the Todd McFarlane signing.
Mostly, we’re there because most of us were fans before we became pros and remember what it was like to be on the other side of the table. We want to try to give back some of what we’ve received over the years.
The last thing I want to do is hurt people’s feelings, and yet it has now come to my attention that that might be precisely what I have done or am doing. I’m there because I like the fans, not because I’m out to insult them. Yet, apparently, a little insult– even unintended– has far stronger legs than a lot of good intentions.
Recently a fan characterized me in an APA (Amateur Press Association) as being “in real life– an unrepentant piece of toxic waste fit only for contempt.” What prompted such ire? It turned out that, according to the writer, I had been rude to him at a convention. Rude and condescending.
I was dumbfounded. I don’t go to cons to be rude and condescending. What was it that I had said specifically?
He couldn’t remember. It had been three years ago. Three years ago. Talk about carrying a grudge.
It also made me wonder whom else I might have offended and angered as a result of personal appearances, but I was simply unaware of it, because they had never bothered to set it down in writing. They were merely grumbling to themselves, “Peter David, what an idiot.” Or perhaps I had even said something that made them feel bad about themselves– had made them feel small. I never would have wanted to do that. That’s not how I would have wanted a pro to make me feel when I was on the other side of the table.
So, first– a blanket apology to anyone whom I accidentally offended or angered at a convention. Whatever I said was not intended to hurt anyone, and, if it was taken that way, I’m terribly sorry.
Now to study the matter of how things I say might get misconstrued, or how my personal conduct may rub people the wrong way. (To a certain extent, observations herein might apply to other comics creators as well, but I leave it to them [and their own columns, *ahem*] to agree, disagree, or ignore the following):
When I do a convention appearance, the most common way I have of interacting with the fans is when I’m sitting behind a table. If I’m lucky, there are a steady stream of fans with comics and books for me to sign and a large number of folks hovering around, interested in discussing this, that, and the other thing.
This sort of set-up can lead to a number of potential points of irritation, and, if we’re all aware of it, maybe people will get less bent out of shape:
1) Eye contact: The first thing you’ve got to remember is that I’m trying to do two things at once: sign my name over and over again while holding a conversation. Frequently, several conversations. In America, generally, when we talk with someone, we make eye contact. Difficult to make eye contact when you’re (a) looking down at comics you’re signing and (b) being addressed by several people.
So it occurs to me that, as a fan, if I were talking to someone and they weren’t “bothering” to look in my direction, I might subconsciously feel as if that person weren’t really paying attention to what I was saying. That would annoy me.
2) Answers sound rehearsed or tired: Believe it or not, by 3 in the afternoon, the chances are extremely good that you’re not the first person who’s asking if The Hulk is going to physically change into Bruce Banner again (no, he’s going to look like that all the time now) or if I’ve ever considered writing a script for the Next Generation (I did, they rejected it, and I turned it into A Rock and a Hard Place).
Despite my best efforts, despite the smile that is solidly affixed to my face, I might wind up sounding as if I’m sorry you’ve asked this question and for goodness’ sake leave me alone already. I’m sorry. It’s nothing personal. I really do want to answer your question. I really do want you to know what’s going on and what’s coming up. That’s what I’m there for. But after a long day, and especially if it’s the second or third or, heaven help us, the fourth day of a convention, I can start to get punchy. You would, too.
3) I look annoyed because you ask what I do and who I am: Generally I bring with me, or the convention has made up for me, a name card that sits on the table and reads: “Peter David, writer of Hulk, Star Trek, etc., etc.” And I’ll have various novels of mine sitting out, as well. So, if someone comes up and says, “Who are you and what do you do?” I’ll try to smile and reply. But I’ll be thinking, Read the sign, jerk.
Or they’ll hold up a copy of one of my Trek novels and say, “Did you write this?” And I’ll say, “Yup,” but I’ll be thinking, No, the other Peter David wrote it, whatta you think? (Note that asking about whether I wrote the David Peters-credited Psi-Man books is an eminently legitimate question. Of course, by late in the con, I’ve answered it 30 times [see above]). And I’m not a good enough actor to cover what’s running through my mind– so, if someone approached me and couldn’t be bothered to read a sign and put two and two together, I might have conveyed an air of mild aggravation.
4) I don’t take what you say seriously: It’s very difficult to have a lengthy, serious discussion at a convention, because there are so many people crushing forward to gain your attention. So, whenever a subject is broached, I generally keep my approach to it light, airy, and quick. I have to keep things moving because, if there’s a crowd, I have to keep the crowd moving. As a result, I may wind up brushing off something that you take very, very seriously. That’s unfortunately the reality of a busy convention.
If you spot me sitting at a table and there’s no one around, and there’s something of importance you wish to discuss, then I’m amenable to it. But be sensitive to other fans who just warm get their books and comics signed.
5) You stop me while I’m in motion and I’m short with you: Keep in mind that, if I’m moving, that means I’m going somewhere. To a lunch appointment or the bathroom or to make a call or even just to have a few minutes to myself. That’s not the greatest time to come up to me with your complete run of my work on Spec Spidey.
6) I tell you to take your comics out of their Mylars before I sign them: I actually had one fan at a convention say to me, “What, you’re too busy to do it yourself?” And my response was a rather short-tempered, “No, fool, I’m afraid I’ll snag the comics on the tape.” Which I was. But I shouldn’t have called him a fool. But he was.
Best way to get a lot of copies signed: Open every single one up to the page you want signed and hand them to me in a stack. I can shoot right through them in no time flat, when they’re presented in such a manner.
7) I tell you your samples suck: Invariably, would-be writers or artists come up to me and want to show me samples of their work. I’ll always look at them, with cautions to the writers that this is only going to be a quick skim of their work and cautions to the artist that, not being an artist, I’m really not qualified to give in-depth analysis.
I’ll try to be as nice as I can about it but, if I think your stuff really bites it, I’ll tell you so. Be aware that (a) it’s only one person’s opinion and (b) I’m not criticizing you as an individual. It’s nothing personal. I’m criticizing the work. I will be honest with you, though, so be prepared for that if you ask what I think. And, if other people are standing around snickering as I tear your work to ribbons, well, that’s your problem, not mine.
Also be aware that, if you really have your heart set on making it in any creative endeavor, you’re going to be criticized along the way by people of far more import than a two-bit comics writer, and far more viciously. If you can’t take it, you’re trying to break into the wrong profession.
8) I don’t remember you from the last time we met: I’m terrible with names and faces. Always have been, always will be. And that’s aggravated by the fact that I meet thousands of people over the course of years of convention-going. We may have had one of the most insightful and meaningful discussions of your life last year, but, I’m sorry, I’m just not going to recall it. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t important to me at the time. It just means I have a lousy memory.
9) I insult you to your face: No, I don’t. What I may do is reply in a tongue-in-cheek manner and you misinterpret it.
I’m always kidding around with my friends, and people who have known me for years are aware of that. The entire comics profession is very much a give-and-take, spar-and-punch arena, the industry equivalent of moose butting horns. And when I’m at a convention, I immediately regard the smiling faces grouped around my table as a group of friends, temporary and transient as they may be. I let down my hair (what there is of it) and kid around, as I would with any other gang of pals. As I might at a party or social gathering.
But I now come to realize that perhaps that isn’t a proper approach. That kidding-around jabs, which would be taken in stride by one of my peers, is taken too much to heart by a fan who says to himself, “Peter David insulted me! I never did anything to him! And I was such a fan of his work! What a creep!” That I was a fan so relatively recently and still possess some degree of that fan mentality so that I feel as if I’m with “my” guys when, in fact, there simply can’t be that kind of “equal” relationship, because I’m a pro now.
Maybe I should, for all time, put aside that aspect of my personality that is the fan persona and just instead be very serious, very thoughtful, and very distant.
Not say much beyond “Why, thank you” and behave in a complete, polished, professional manner. Hmm.
Naaahhhh…
Peter David, writer of stuff, hopes to see you at upcoming conventions and hopes that he has shown that even toxic waste can repent.
• 
Peter, I had the pleasure of meeting you for the first time last year at the Motor City Comic Con and I found you to be a very pleasant individual, taking the time to talk with me and my wife for a few minutes about the couple of comics I asked you to sign. That was much more than I expected and I was very appreciative of it. I understand you probably wouldn’t have taken that much time to talk with us if there was a long line behind us. I’ve been to large cons like Wizard World and smaller ones like Mid-Ohio and Motor City and even though my chances of meeting someone like you is quite lower at a small con versus a large one, I prefer these smaller gatherings for this very reason of being able to interact with you and other pros.
Whenever I recommend a friend go to their first con, I tell them to avoid the larger ones for their first experience so they have at least some opportunity to talk with the pros.
My first meeting with you was at San Diego, luckily when there weren’t a lot of other folks around. I apparently hit one of your “hot topic” buttons, and couldn’t get a word in edgewise for the next five minutes. I was stunned, totally unprepared for it, and absolutely fascinated by it. The other fan waiting to chat with you kept grinning at my discomforture, so I assumed it was natural behavior on your part.
The second time I met you I was with my husband, at the end of a panel, also at San Diego (but the next year). I told you that Aquaman had been killed off in Our Worlds At War, which surprised you immensely as you hadn’t read the story yet. I am still embarrassed about that spoiler, and haven’t sought you out since then (not that I’ve had any opportunities for it, since you haven’t visited Seattle and I haven’t visited any major cons).
For the record, only one comic book creator has ever been rude to me, and after a lot of thought on my part, I believe that was actually my fault.
Hi Peter, I have met you several times at Shore Leave. My interest in your work has been been your writings (when is that New Frontier book coming out??) Never have you been rude that I could see. Going to your talks has always been a highlight of my trip since I must travel from LA for the con. I even remember bumping into you at the art auction and having a great impromptu discussion! Even though it might not stand out in your mind, I was pleased to see you in a relaxed setting.
See you again next year!
Hi,
Do you ever come to any cons in England?
Cheers
Hmm, kind of ironic to look at that section about the Hulk now…
On the convention issue, I think that different people are looking for different things, so it’s going to be hard to please everyone. For instance, I saw you at “The Wrap Party” (a B5 convention in London a few years ago). One part of that was midnight discussions (e.g. getting in touch with your dark side). On the first day, not many people attended this session – maybe 10 of us altogether. So, at your suggestion, we moved to the swimming pool area, and sat around a table there for an hour or so. Anyway, the point is that this was the high point of the convention for me – being able to hang out with you in a social atmosphere (as opposed to a book signing queue). On the other hand, one of the other fans was talking about this the following day, and said that she left half-way through because she wasn’t getting the chance to talk much, so she characterised it as “people who want to sit at the master’s feet and listen to his words of wisdom”. I can see her point, but I didn’t have a problem with that (quite the reverse).
Speaking of conventions, I wonder if you visit any for comics and sci-fi in Israel sometime? I’d enjoy it if you could come here too.
I generally hate cons and celeb tables. When I’m standing there, getting my 5 seconds to connect as a fan to someone, I couldn’t help but feel really silly. Nothing of value happens during the meeting. So the entire affair is rather embarrasing.
The first time I met you, was at the last Greenberg convention in NYC. You signed my stack of comics and Trek novels, and I later had Marina Sirtis sign my copy Imzadi, the only Star Trek novel of mine that sports signatures from two Trek creators.
But something happened the second time I met you, which was at Midtown Comics, a block east of the Port Authority Bus Terminal: I couldn’t think of what to say. I mentioned turning New Frontier into a TV series, and you said that you wouldn’t mind if they did so even without your consultation, because the royalties from one episode would put all three of your daughters through college. (Of course, now you have four daughters, so I guess you’d need…………royalties from two episodes, I guess.)
But then, I couldn’t think of anything else to say! I had so enjoyed your works in comics, novels, Trek, CBG and even an ep of Space Cases, and figured, here is my favorite fiction writer, so I’ll have so much to say, and yet, I found myself stumbling over my attempt to say something worthwhile. Sometimes the fan on the other side of the table should think a bit better about what they’re going to say, rather than blaming the guy on the other side signing your stuff for free.
When the third time came around, and I met you again at Midtown (your most recent one in 2001, prior to the premiere of Enterprise), I was genuinely curious about any inside info or opinions on the quality of Enterprise, and you told me the anecdote of Scott Bakula, who has some measure of creative control in his contract, demanding that the buttons on the comm panels used to talk to other parts of the ship be white, because the one on the bridge is white (or something to that effect).
Thanks for always singing my stuff, and putting up with me, even when I was babbling. 🙂
I really enjoyed your participation in a screenwriting storytelling panel at San Diego Comic Con a few years ago. I don’t remember all of the points, but it stuck in my head that you were discussing how Mel Gibson’s long historical Highlander movie played with act length and turn around moments, but was still structured. There were about 40 of us in the room, and one of the reasons I attended was that you had always seemed so nice and approachable in NYC appearences, earlier in your career.
Peter’s a nice guy at cons. You know who isn’t? Paul gøddámņ Chadwick. I couldn’t believe it because his work is so thoughtful and intelligent. But–true story–I waited to talk to him at a con, once, and I was wearing a “Gray Hulk” t-shirt. Paul turned to his friend and said, “Oh wow, great, Hulk fans at my table.”
I was too shocked to say something like “Concrete would never have been that much of an ášš, Mr. I-Used-to-Pencil-Dazzler.”
I havent met Peter at any conventions, but I did email him once asking for some advice on writing structure.
He replied even though I did not expect him to and I have used his advice to plan out a manuscript I am writing just now.
I am very grateful for the advice.
My wife and I met Peter many, many years ago–I’m guessing around 1993 or so at a Kansas City comics convention. I’d emailed him several times in the past–ah, the GEnie roundtable days, what a wonderful time–and had mentioned we’d be there.
I had him sign copies of “The Little Mermaid” comics for my daughter, then mentioned who we were. Peter proceeded to demand we come behind the table, have lunch with him, and compare baby pictures (Ariel, his, Shelby, ours). We had an incredible time and I’ve remembered it fondly to this day.
JSM
I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting PAD in person (living over the pond as I do), but I fondly recall the first time he ever addressed me in an online conversation. He managed to take an affectionate swipe at Bill Sienkiewicz’s surname and mine in one sentence. Rather than being offended, as I’m sure some incredibly oversensitive ‘fans’ would have, I was rather pleased to have been mentioned in the same sentence as such a great artist by such a great writer.
Rest assured that some of us fans can take a joke, PAD… 😉
I found out a few days ago that Mr. David will be coming to a sci-fi convention in Maryland in July. I normally come to the conventions to do shopping for my brother, if I come at all. Hopefully I’ll be able to attend the “Meet and Greet.” ^_^;;
I’m trying to convince my friend to come with me. I bought her a copy of “Sir Apropos” for her birthday and she loved it. Gave her the second book and “Knight Life” for Christmas. She finished them both in two days, speed reader that she is. I’m still working on part three of “Woad To Wuin.” Guess I’m slacking…
… And even though I’ve decided to switch my Major from Music Journalism to Creative Writing (don’t ask for it’s a looooooooong story), I promise not to hound Mr. David with any writing examples. I’m sure he get enough of those from wannabe writers. ^_^;;
My wife (then girlfriend) and I met Peter at ChicacoCon 1995, and it was great. He was a GOH and we made it to every bit of programming he was a part of. I have several great memories of the weekend (I won’t bother going into them here), but when we finally got a chance to get Peter’s autograph at the Claypool table, I took the opportunity to thank him for all of the great stories – in print and in person over the weekend, and I just regretted that there wasn’t more time. In that wonderfull manner he has, he said “Well, let’s ditch the women and go have a few beers!” with a very long line of fans still waiting. A few people gasped, but I just shook his hand and tanked him again as I walked away with a smile on my face.
I can’t wait until we get a chance to meet him again someday.
-Joe
I’m the chair for Philcon 2003, and Peter is going to be our guest in December. Personally, I can’t wait. This is going to be a big thrill for me.
And having his name on our list has generated SO much positive feedback for us, it makes me even MORE happy that we invited him!
See you here in Philly in December, Peter!
I enjoy cons, but I don’t go out of my way to get autographs. Mainly, because I’m just not the kind of guy who collects autographs. To each their own, I suppose. My favorite part of any con is any kind of discussion or debate contained therein. I get a lot more out of hearing PAD, or Will Eisner, or Frank Miller, or anyone than just going over and forming a line in front of a writer or an artist.
I have to say that I went to a convention 2 years ago with a cold an you were either rude nor condescending. You were rather polite and you were the only one besides Nightow that I went out of my way to see that year. Any fan that expects you to remember their name and face, be Disneyland friendly 24/7 and cater to them is completely outrageous.
Every person has their off days and if fans can’t accept it then they weren’t true fans to begin with. I have heard alot of complaints about artists and their primadonna ways, but I haven’t heard much negativity about you. I’d take that sort of criticism with a grain of salt.
I’ve seen you at a Trek convention in Virginia Beach, VA, and a comicon in Kansas City, MO (home). During the Va Beach con I recall asking about writing Trek novels, and you gave some very good advice (though I haven’t gone on to write the darned thing). I do note that my question involved a character spoken of by the TOS crew, but not the crew itself; you noted that the publisher would not be interested in a Trek novel that didn’t involve the crew. Would that advice differ any, now that Khan seems to have achieved his own print series, or would it remain the same since the Khan books are being written by an established Trek novelist?
In any event, I try to keep my own contact with the Star/Writer/Guest to a minimum, especially after reading Ellison’s XENOGENESIS, because, while it is interesting to hear what the guest has to say, I wouldn’t really have anything to bring to the table conversation-wise.
I met PAD at the Motor City Con a year or so ago… I’m afraid I was so nervous, I don’t think I said more than, “um… uh… loved your stuff… would you sign this for my brother and this for me, please? Sir?” I’m sure that I sounded like an idiot.
I’m Chuck’s brother – he usually sounds that way.
I’ve met PAD a number of times at
Wondercon, and always enjoy his readings and meeting him in person.
Several times, I’ve gotten him to
sign things for Chuck for his
birthday, usually funny jabs at
Chuck.
Here’s hoping that PAD will be
attending a Wondercon soon.
Hi Peter. My encounters with you have tended to be very positive (so far). Consider yourself fortunate. I have an incredible talent of unwittingly insulting comic pros and making a fool of myself in the process. My first major error (as a young adolescent) was pestering Chris Claremont at a con in the early 80’s, while he was trying to get somewhere. Chris eventually had enough and said quite emphatically, and with some small degree of anger / annoyance, to cut it out. I was mortified, having at the time seen Claremont as my hero. I actually carried that under my skin through adulthood. Since then, in different ways, I’ve managed to amaze, annoy, or just plain pìšš øff a pro every time I go to a con, including your pal, Mark Evanier, by asking him what he did. (He just stared at me.) Interestingly enough, these poor social skills apply mostly to comic pros. (Well, also with women, but somehow, I am now safely married and off the streets. Heh.) I went to this last San Diego Con and was going to meet Stan Lee for the first time. I was terrified of insulting him, but managed to use up the curse on Paul Jenkins. (Hey, somebody had to take the bullet.) Later on, I was walking around, and who should I see, but Chris Claremont. I thought, oh, what the hëll, and apologized to him for pìššìņg him off almost 20 years ago. I think he was mystified. He ended up apologizing to me. Who knows, maybe the curse is broken. 🙂
I just wanted to tell you quickly Peter, that I’ve been to every San Diego Comic Con since 1997 (yeah, not that many, but I got into comics late in life…), and every year, chatting with you at the Claypool table (where no one else knows to find you…) and/or attending one of your panels is always one of the high points of the convention. The only pro I’ve found that was friendlier to me and easier to talk to was Darick Robertson (but that’s only because he actually remembers me from year to year)
Kurt
The World’s Biggest Speedball fan
I meet Peter walking down a dark alley one night. Be beat me up and took my comic books.
Bášŧárd.