The Good: My table in Artist’s Alley was well positioned and I had a chance to see lots of folks who frequent this site, not to mention a number of old friends and even some REALLY old friends. The separate signings that I had were well attended, although I hold no illusions that people were lining up to see me (at the Evil Ink table, they were there for Claudio Sanchez; at my two Marvel signings, they were there for Chris Claremont at the first one and for the Romitas at the second.) But, hey, a line’s a line. And I particularly had a good time on the “Epic Mickey” panel. I decided to have some fun at the beginning by abruptly saying, “I want to do something,” and I watched the Disney reps in the front row blanch as they obviously thought, “Oh God, what’s he going to say, what’s he going to do?” And then I led the crowd in a rendition of the “Mickey Mouse Club” theme song, and the Disney reps promptly relaxed and even sang along. Also had a chance to actually play the game at a display, and it totally rocked. Gonna have to buy a Wii.
The Bad: The lack of names on the badges prompted me to be mistaken for other various comics creators. Also, thanks to construction in the Javits, Artists Alley was at the opposite end of the building from panels, which meant that any panel appearance necessitated making my way through about five blocks worth of crowds. Also Artists Alley was set up at the one section of the Javits Center that had no restrooms; they were at the opposite end of the room. Furthermore people were consistently given misinformation by the information people, including telling them that my signing at Evil Ink on Saturday was 5 PM (it was 3 PM; it was 5 PM on Friday) and being utterly unable to tell fans where my table was situated.
The Ugly: It’s generally good form to send folks home on an upbeat note. To signal the end of the Comic Con in San Diego, they blink the lights and an announcer gently says that the party’s over. Not New York. They signaled the end of the convention by blaring a horn over the PA system that’s identical to the sirens from German police cars. Between that and the guys in colored shirts trying to herd us, my racial memory kicked in and I started looking around fearfully for the railroad cars to transport us to the camps. So they might want to come up with something more soothing next year…like an air raid siren.
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