NYCC is an important convention to me - it was the first convention I went to when I started writing comics. The first time I was there, in 2011. I chipped in with a bunch of friends from Comics Experience to get a small press table where we could all sell our self published comics. I pulled a favor with a friend who ran a print shop, and showed up with 50 copies of a little ashcan called Gutter Magic, expecting it to immediately sell out, and be walking out of the con with a contract to publish through Image Comics in my hand.
In case you were wondering, I still have copies of that ashcan in my basement somewhere, and the most I’ve ever gotten from Image comics is a polite “no thank you” on everything I’ve pitched them.
Which isn’t to say that’s stopped me, but as I head into NYCC this year, a whole 12(!) years after, I think it’s really important to realize how far I’ve come since then.
When I set up my table in Artist Alley this year (Booth J-25, which I’m sharing with the illustrious, GLAAD and Ringo Award winning editor of Young Men in Love, Matt Miner), I’m going to have more books on my resume than I’ll be able to fit on the actual table.
That little ashcan led to a four issue Gutter Magic series, which lead to Wailing Blade, Road of Bones, Sea of Sorrows and everything else I’ve done in the meantime. And that’s pretty damn cool.
I need to remember that, because at this point before every convention I do, I start getting tense, and worried. Because like everyone, I have goals for these things, and right about now is the time I get terrified that I’m not going to be able to meet them.
It’s like a little voice in my head, that won’t let up.
I’m bringing books to sell.
Is anyone going to buy them?
I want to talk to some editors who might be interested in my work.
Then why don’t you have a bunch of meetings set up?
I want to talk about comics.
Then why didn’t you get invited to any panels?
I want to meet some fans of my work, too, and talk about my books with them.
Why is your signing schedule so light, then?
It happens, like clockwork, and its been happening from the time when I had one little 16-page booklet to my name, to the entire bookshelf I have filled up now. It’s maybe a form of impostor syndrome, I don’t know. But I know that until my feet actually hit the floor, I’m going to be nervous.
It’s a really hard feeling to shake - that idea that I’m not successful enough. I’m not popular enough. I’m not getting enough attention. And the funny thing is, once you have a little taste of success, it gets way, way worse.
What I mean is, when I didn’t have any books to my name, I kind of expected nobody would really give me the time of day. Not out of malice, but people are so busy with their own things at cons, it was very easy to reconcile not getting much attention at all, aside from creators I admired being polite when I walked up and shoved my book in their face.
But when you’ve been doing it for a while, when you’ve started to build a name, you start wondering when people are going to notice. You’ve got a nice resume of books to your name.
They should be lining up around the block to see you, right? Well, not really. The thing I’ve come to realize is that it’s all incremental. Every con I go to, whether I have things scheduled or not, things tend to happen. Maybe it’s someone coming up to me. Maybe it’s me coming up to them. Maybe we just happen to be in the same bar after hours.
But things happen. And every con I meet at least one person that I’m thankful to have met, gotten at least one opportunity to go for, and at the very least had a good time catching up with wonderful people I only get to see once or twice a year.
And remembering all of that is how I cut through the pre-con tension. This is the first con in a while where I don’t have a single thing scheduled - no panels, no signings, nothing besides hanging around my booth hawking my books to passers-by.
But I think, and I hope, that some good things are going to happen. I know I’ll see a bunch of folks whose company I truly love, and if that’s it, well that’s still a great convention experience for me.
All of this bubbling up made me think of a video I recently saw from filmmaker and actor Mark Duplass, that I found pretty inspiring. Maybe you will too:
So, if you’re going to this con, or any con, and struggling with similar feelings, I hope you can enjoy yourself without letting them drag you down. The most effective thing I’ve found for it is to just go in with as few preconceptions or agendas as possible, and just be open to all the chaos and chance swirling at and around the con.
It’s not easy… but nothing in comics ever is!
Thanks for reading and indulging this little trip into one of the less positive aspects of the comics hustle for me.
Like I said, the second my soles hit that con floor carpet, this ick will go away. And despite how I feel in this moment, in the long grind building up to that moment, I absolutely cannot wait to go.
Hope to see some of you readers there!
- Rich
Really appreciate you writing this. I have not done a convention yet, but now I'm more excited to attend one after reading this!
Thanks for sharing. I hope it goes well and you have a great time!