Dispatches from the Flying M

Better late than never...

...but I just found out that Barack Obama: The First 100 Days--the third (and final--at least for now) volume of my comic book biography of Barack Obama, hit comic stores on Wednesday, July 27. I haven't seen copies yet. Once again, the art is by Tom Morgan, cover by J. Scott Campbell.

Be sure to track it down so you have the whole trilogy!

Robert Englund

Robert, it turns out, is a 30 Days of Night fan.

Here are Alice Henderson, Robert Englund, and me--still playing my thug role.

Comic-Con's over, and boy are my dogs barkin'

We're back home from Comic-Con, out of the craziness of SoCA traffic and congestion--and that's not including what's on the streets, just inside the convention center.  When you cram as many people into one building as we have in our entire, considerably larger county, it's really too crowded for comfort.

During the con, I had little to no internet access.  For reasons that completely escape me (except for the biggest reason--people pay it), expensive hotels, like the Embassy Suites we stayed in during the con, charge for internet access that the lowliest cheap motels provide for free.  Not only did the Suites want $12 a day, but whenever I tried to pay it, I got kicked back to the page asking me for payment, so I could never get on there.  To make matters worse, we stayed in Yuma on Tuesday night, and when we checked out I left my laptop's charger cord in the Hampton Inn (which graciously provides free internet and which found and kept the cord until we passed through again yesterday--thanks, HI!).

So I was unable to provide any Comic-Con liveblogging.  I'll try to sum up here, reliving it to the extent that I dare. This will be mostly linkless--if you need to look anything up I'm sure you know how to do so.

Wednesday afternoon we arrived in San Diego.  At three we were able to pick up our pro badges.  After that we walked around downtown for a while, then back to the hotel to wait until we could get into the convention center at 5:30.

Having had plenty of walking for one day (and knowing there was more to come), I suggested we take the handy Comic-Con shuttle back to the con.  For the sake of those who don't know the geography, the Embassy Suites is kitty-corner from the Hyatt, which is on the other side of the Marriott from the convention center.  We stepped out of the hotel and a shuttle pulled up almost immediately, so we hopped on.

45 minutes later, in front of the Hyatt, we got off and walked the rest of the way. Had we just walked it in the first place, we would have been there in 15 minutes tops.  But the traffic was so horrendous that the bus was just going nowhere.  Not an auspicious beginning.

By the time we got into the hall, it was almost time to leave for dinner. We spent 15-20 minutes on the floor, mostly at the Mysterious Galaxy booth, then took off.

We didn't mind not being on the floor that night, which is known as Preview Night, when the exhibit hall is open from 5:30-9:00.  Preview Night is only for 4-day pass holders, and mostly what they do is surge from booth to booth looking for free swag.  My advice: kill it.  4 days is plenty for anyone.  Preview Night is a pain, it keeps exhibitors from having a decent dinner on the night before a busy show really begins, and the naked greed on display is unseemly and dangerous.  Last year someone broke a toe in those crowds--a more serious accident is probably inevitable if it keeps up.

We went to dinner with friends and business acquaintances at a Brazilian place, which serves meat.  Wayyyy too much meat.  Advice from a buddy who's an old Brazil hand: learn to say no.  Good advice, but I think better advice is to keep away from the place altogether in the future.

Thursday morning, I believe is the day we had breakfast with Mimi Cruz of Night Flight Comics in Salt Lake City--one of America's best comics retailers who runs some of our best comic stores.  Then it was into the fray. I was passing the Hyperion booth when a friend working there stopped me and said, "You need a towel."  She handed me a promotional towel for the new Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy book by Eoin Colfer, which I tucked into my briefcase. 

My first panel was that afternoon, and I began it by standing a copy of the Desperadoes Omnibus up in front of me (and also in front of a pitcher of ice water).  Within about a minute of that, while panelists were being introduced, the book tipped over into the pitcher, which tipped over as well, flooding my lap with cold water.  It woke me up... I tried to save the moment by reaching into the briefcase and bringing up the towel, which I showed the audience (the words DON'T PANIC are emblazoned across the front), saying, "At least I brought my own towel."  By the time the panel was over I was mostly dry, but I don't remember much of the panel besides that event.  After it there was a signing.  After that I went back onto the crowded floor for a signing at the Shadowline/Image table, for Zombie Cop.

Around 5:30 I met Maryelizabeth, Jaime Levine of Hachette and author Jacqueline Carey and we sat on the steps behind the convention center, watching the boats and the costumed people and just enjoying the relative peace and quiet.

Dinner was with Francesco Francavilla (artist on my upcoming miniseries Garrison) and his wife, the lovely Lisa, at an out-of-the-way restaurant called Zanzibar, which was one of the con's better discoveries.  There was an IDW party that night, but by the time we got out of dinner it was close to 10--bedtime for ranch folks.

Friday started with an Obama comics signing at IDW, at which I finally met the series artist Tom Morgan, who is a thoroughly engaging guy.  Joe Hill signed after me, and I was chatting with him while the staff was resetting when I was called and alerted that I was late for my next signing, with Steve Niles, at the Mysterious Galaxy booth.  I hurried over there and Steve and I signed a bunch of books.  From there it was straight to lunch with Shannon Eric Denton, my Graveslinger co-author and Garrison editor, and other friends.  IAMTW's Scribe Awards panel was that afternoon (I had not submitted anything). Congratulations to Greg Cox, James Rollins, Bob Greenberger, Steven Savile, James Swallow, Tracey West, and Keith DeCandido, who all won awards.

That night, there were tons of parties.  The lamest (2nd year in a row, sorry WS) was the WildStorm karaoke bash, held in a pitch-black dungeon.  The only light comes from the screens illuminating the painfully bad singers.  I know some people enjoy karaoke--but some probably like having cavities filled, too.  Not me.  And judging from conversations I had before and after, not lots of other people, too.

After a mercifully brief stop there, I went to dinner with an editor while Maryelizabeth attended the Del Rey party, which was fun last year.  By the time my very nice dinner at Croce's was over, she had moved on to the Hyperion party for the aforementioned Eoin Colfer, and I joined her there, but not for long. 

Saturday morning was the sadly underattended IAMTW breakfast, but those of us who were there had fun making fun of those who weren't.  Later that day came a high point of strangeness.  I was supposed to have lunch with artist Scott Hampton.  But the evening before, a situation had come up surrounding a Robert Englund (Freddy Kruger, etc) signing at Pocket Books for his forthcoming autobiography, and I had volunteered to help.  So a few minutes before noon I got the call, apologized to Scott, and went off the be hired muscle for Robert Englund.  I helped escort him from his hotel, then through the hall, then stood at the table next to him with my arms crossed, glaring at anyone who might dare try to ask him to sign anything other than the 8X10 he was there to sign.  He turned out to be a delightful guy, with a much more diverse career than I had known (including classic surf film Big Wednesday), and I thoroughly enjoyed meeting him.  There'll be a picture to come, when I get it.

That afternoon was the WildStorm panel, at which Garrison was being semi-introduced.  I got to speak for about 20 seconds (which, since I was already losing my voice, was probably plenty) as Garrison art was shown on a screen.  That night was dinner with yet another editor, and an early-ish bedtime.

Sunday, my only obligation was another Zombie Cop signing at Shadowline, then I left the premises for lunch with a publisher and an artist.  After I got back, I made the rounds saying my goodbyes, and the con wrapped up at 5.

I'm sure there was more to talk about, but it's all a blur already.  I enjoyed meeting some new people and seeing some old friends, although there's never really time to catch up properly there.  I did a little shopping, though not much.  Yesterday I did a lot of driving. 

Thankfully, it'll be a year before it all starts up again.

Unidentified Flying Objects

Who's good with airplanes?  This beast buzzed the house three times in a row today.  It looks familiar, but I'm not good enough to figure out what it is.  Pretty cool, though, especially flying past at low altitude.

As long as we're at it, this strange moth was hanging onto my tire the other night.  It looked like it was made of thin balsa wood...  any ideas what it is?

Neither of these are common visitors.

It was 40 years ago today...

Most Americans I know watched the first moon landing in America.  But I was in France when it happened, on a 6-week summer trip with a school group.  We landed in Paris, stayed there a few days, then went to a boarding school in Strasbourg where we lived for the bulk of the time.  On the way out, we stopped in London, then came home on a ship.

So the moon landing happened at a very inconvenient time of day--about 3 or 4 in the morning, as I recall.  There were no TVs at the lycee, but there was a television station across the street, and they kindly consented to allow bleary-eyed American kids to stream in and out all night and morning long to watch the progress, and the landing.  We were all, at that moment, particularly proud to be Americans, to watch our guys up there where no one else had been, to know that human engineering and ingenuity had done the job.

The next day was Monday. Without telling the girls, a bunch of us boys decided to dress for dinner.  We came down in jackets and ties and said we were dressed for Moonday dinner.  The next Moonday we did the same, and kept it up for the rest of our time there (and quickly, the girls caught on and dressed up as well).

Where were you when that small step was taken?

UPDATE: Courtesy of Barry Eisler, here's a cool photomontage of the year 1969.  So many important things happened that year, in society and pop culture (like the release of some of my favorite movies, including Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, The Godfather, Easy Rider and Midnight Cowboy, the Stonewall riots, the first Led Zeppelin album and the last Beatles concert, and more.  Check it out.

Comic-Con Schedule

Here's my schedule for the con (there's one more possible signing I'm still waiting for word on, and various panels I'll be attending but not sitting on the dais for, like the Scribe Awards and the WildStorm editorial panel--these are the places I know I'll be during the con).

Thursday
12:30-1:30        Crime: Usual and Unusual …                      Room 3

Panelists: Max Allan Collins (THE GOLIATH BONE: SCCI 40th); Jeffrey J. Mariotte (COLD BLACK HEARTS) Alexander Irvine (BUYOUT); Gregg Hurwitz (TRUST NO ONE); Thomas Greanias (THE ATLANTIS REVOLUTION); Kat Richardson (VANISHED).

Moderator: Maryelizabeth Hart, Mysterious Galaxy

Autographing in the Comic-Con Autograph Area  AA1     1:30 pm - 2:30 pm

3:00-4:00   ZOMBIE COP signing, Shadowline/Image Comics Booth

Friday

10:00-11:00  PRESIDENTIAL MATERIAL: BARACK OBAMA signing (with artist Tom Morgan), IDW Publishing Booth

11:00-12:00 COLD BLACK HEARTS/30 DAYS OF NIGHT: ETERNAL DAMNATION signing (with Steve Niles), Mysterious Galaxy, Booth #1119

Sunday

10:00-11:00  ZOMBIE COP signing, Shadowline/Image Comics Booth

IDW: The First Decade

Kelly C. asked for pictures of the IDW: The First Decade book, so I got a couple the other day.

Here's the front cover.  The key that makes up the logo is actually a metal key inside a cutaway slot.

I have no idea why that rotated sideways, as the file isn't rotated. 

And here's the inside of the clamshell.  In a pocket on the left is the comic, and the two books are on the right, with ribbons to help take them out of the box.

The end of segregation

This time of year, wildlife at the ranch tends to be the invading hordes of insects and those--like the toad living in the laundry room who's the size of a VW Beetle--who are here to eat them.  We have crickets performing symphonies in the great room, spiders trying to web us in from inside and outside, enough sphinx moths clinging to the west side of the house that it's starting to list, and their scouts inside...

As I've noted here many times, we leave one gate into our back pasture open so random creatures can come in and graze there.  Often we get cows, and occasionally we get horses.  But never, before today, have we had both at once!  Cows and horses, standing side by side like equals, like brothers and sisters.  It was a stirring site.

Walter Cronkite, RIP

I met Walter Cronkite in 1983, on the twentieth anniversary of John F. Kennedy's assassination.  The occasion was an autograph party for South by Southeast, a book about sailing off the southeastern coast of the United States, for which he wrote the text and artist Ray Ellis contributed paintings.  Before and after the party we talked about Kennedy, of course, about that day, but Cronkite loved to sail, he loved journalism, and he couldn't be bound to a single topic of conversation, however grim the date might have been.

Of course, by then I felt like I knew Walter Cronkite.  I grew up watching him on the CBS evening news.  I have always had a deep, abiding interest in journalism, and that probably stemmed, at least in part, from seeing him work--seeing how he delivered the important facts of the day, facts that he believed an informed American electorate had to have in order to keep democracy whole and vibrant.  He let his emotions show at times, let his beliefs color what he said on few occasions, and when he did you knew it was meaningful.  When Cronkite turned against the war in Vietnam, it's been said, the nation turned against it.

In so many ways, he defined television journalism.  He was, polls told us, the most trusted man in America.  He was pure gravitas, most of the time, but you didn't have to look far to see that he loved life and had a great sense of humor.

These days, with cable news and internet news, the network news broadcasts are less crucial than they once were.  But hard news journalism is more important, and more threatened, than ever.  Cronkite was a reporter first and foremost, and we need reporters.  The loss of Walter Cronkite feels like a symptom of the loss of real journalism, and I hope there are people out there who look to his example and dedicate their lives to bringing us the news we have to have.

He loved space travel, too, and one can't help wondering if he held on just long enough to see the 40th anniversary of the launch of Apollo 11--the precursor to the landing and the first step onto the lunar surface, a moment that rendered him speechless, on live TV. 

He signed off every night with "And that's the way it is."  And when he said it, you believed it was so.

Was the Kindle invented in 1984

This is creepy, but poetically ironic... Amazon snatched George Orwell books off people's Kindles in the dead of Night (albeit crediting their accounts for the disappeared material.  Here's the whole story in the NYT.