Writers were few and far in between at the convention; big emphasis this year (perhaps every year) was on films. Between Iron Man, Hulk, BatMan, Hell Boy, and Peck's Bad Boy, it was difficult to find original works, let alone writers worthy of that honorific.
I made a happy discovery. As you may know, my taste in literature ranges from that of wide-eyed innocent to blood-sucking ghoul. I rarely get to indulge the former, but at the convention, a chance detour down a certain row lead me to TopShelf, an independent and alternate comic publisher. The artwork, the stories, and the characters are a breath of fresh air from whiny super beings with powers and problems that currently pervade comic literature.
I picked up two books that immediately appealed to me because there are no words (ironical - Mr. Wordsmith loves wordless books). Owly and Korgi - just wonderful, beautiful pieces of art.
Andy Runton can very proud of Owly - I was charmed by his characters. Wonderful introduction to fine comic art for any one. Along the same lines, Christian Slade's Korgi is equally wonderful. Also mostly wordless, with the story conveyed in beautiful, elegant black ink. I met both artists and must say...their art is reflective of who they are...it was a pleasure. If I were ever to do a comic, I'd would head to TopShelf for the impressive creativity and artistry they have in abundance...who knows? :)
I attended a conference featuring Sergio Aragones (best known for his marginal art in Mad magazine). It was fascinating to hear a bit of his story, how he went about doing this drawings, and to see that, yes, his humor was prevalent in real life too. The panel was moderated by Mark Evanier (I did not know who he was either, but funny...he ate a sandwich while Sergio spoke, and told a story about Sergio).
The guy on the far right is Stan Sakai, I am not familiar with his work. Except...he looks like my mother. Sorry, Stan, and Maw, you should be flattered...Stan is cute.
I did not attend the Dean Koontz panel after all. Decided that screaming him at to stop the Odd Thomas character would be considered socially...unacceptable. Plus, the line to meet him snaked around and around and around, all the fans clutching their books, ready to pay homage to the "Wrecked Koontz". Felt any criticism would have placed me in mortal peril...sort of like when Whippy the PM browbeats me for not psychically anticipating requirements. You got lucky this time, Koontz!! Next time...glaring at you hard, boy!! Odd Thomas!! Damn it!!
But, ahhhh!!! finally, got to hear one of my favorite writers, and best short story author ever...Ray Bradbury. I sat through a panel on Wonder Woman (whatever) to make sure I had a great seat Ray's panel, which was hosted in the same room afterwards. Apparently, Wonder Woman has a new plane and lasso...who cares? She sucks as a character...invisible plane? Gold lariat? Spangly bracelets? Kinky boots?
If you don't know Ray's works, let me say this...I have been reading his stuff since I was about 8 or 9 years old. His short stories are just perfect nuggets of literature.
He speaks like he writes, which is to say...fantastic. Time has not diminished him at all. The thing that struck me the most about Ray is love. Specifically, he advised the whole audience (whom he affectionately and collectively referred to as his 'bastard children') to "love what you write, and write what you love". Someone asked him about metaphors or some other literary device. His response was "write!!!" and to remember his previously given advice. I agree, just write, damn it!! Screw grammar (kinky!!)!! Screw spelling correctly the first time around!! Just let it flow out of you...unedited, unabated, and uncensored...ugly or beautiful. Editing is secondary.
Ray mentioned that he could not afford college so he graduated from the library. I loved that, made perfect sense to me. He said that college does not educate you, the library does. That when we go to the library, we select books that are reflective of who we are, good or bad. That if we choose a book that reveals something not so great for ourselves, close it up and put it back. At the end of the panel, we gave Ray a sincere and deserved standing ovation. Then, he was mobbed by autograph seekers, by fans who wanted to tell him what his works meant to them, to have that personal connection.
And it's funny. With all the autograph buying I did this week, of all the people from whom I should have wanted an autograph, I really did not need it or want one from Ray. Somehow, it would have cheapened this experience for me. It was enough to have sat there for an hour, and listen to one of my favorite authors. To hear a writer preach on the craft.
An inspiring sermon that I will remember.
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