While I was attending Jet City Comic Show, I had a conversation with an old school mate of mine. You see, I don’t pleasure read as often as I used to. Since billing myself as a writer, I find it hard to enjoy a story – to read a book or watch a movie, even – without criticizing what I’m taking in. Anyone can notice if a movie’s pacing seems off, but I subconsciously pay an excruciating amount of attention to character development.
In reflecting on this year’s comic show, I’ve found that I applied this same mindset to my interactions with writers, creators and artists.
In the past year, I’ve taken great strides in my development as a creator. In this past year, I launched The Martyrs – so I’ve a comic for all to read. I’ve rededicated myself to my professional social media – so I’m more public with my work. I’ve taken on paid work that I didn’t have before. My portfolio contains good work that I’m honestly proud of, instead of hobby scribbles that I hope someone likes.
So this year, I wasn’t just attending Jet City Comic Show as a fan. This year, I was attending and seeing myself behind one of those tables.
This year I was watching other people to decide who I wanted to be.
To the artists who signed my comics, but didn’t really take the time to look up at me – I saw you. The indie creators who wanted to hug me when I asked for an autograph – I saw you, too.
When I’m behind that table, I know I’ll be bombarded with a sea of faces. I work retail now – because that’s the starving artist’s life – so I know that feeling. But I never want to be that person that lets a fan know they’re a face in the crowd. Comic shows – comic conventions – they’re busy places. There’s plenty of other tables and booths for people to spend their time at. So when I’ve someone at my table, I’ll be sure to make them feel like a person – a whole person – not just a face.
So, thank you Jet City, for teaching me a valuable lesson.