Whatever Happened to the World of Tomorrow?

My very first post on this blog was about winning the Eisner Award for Best Digital Comic at the 2005 Comic-Con International in San Diego. So it seems somehow symmetrical and right that my very last post follows my report on the same event almost exactly three years later.

Today I'm closing up shop here and opening a new establishment right around the virtual corner at

http://brianfies.blogspot.com.

It'll be the same old stuff from the same old guy, which raises the question: Why bother? Why force my six regular readers to change their bookmarks and links? Who do I think I am?

Well, I'll explain...

First: my site stats show me that a lot of people arrive here while searching for help and information about cancer. Mom died October 1, 2005, and the fact is that I left Cancer World that day and haven't tried too hard to keep up. I'm not an expert on anything except my family's experience. I know Mom's Cancer still helps readers facing the same dizzying, baffling, frustrating challenges we did--I hear all the time from readers who continue to discover it anew--but my blog hasn't had much to offer those folks in a long time and I feel bad about that.

Second, and the reason I made a last-minute trip to this year's Comic-Con after I hadn't planned to go at all: I'm writing a new book. It's a graphic novel titled Whatever Happened to the World of Tomorrow? that I'm working on with my friend and Mom's Cancer editor Charlie Kochman to be published by Harry N. Abrams next spring. Charlie wanted me in San Diego to unveil it, along with other books being released under a new Abrams imprint named Abrams ComicArts, with Charlie as its newly promoted Executive Editor (Publishers Weekly ran a nice item about it here). There's some neat symmetry there as well: my first book was Charlie's first acquisition shortly after he arrived at Abrams; my next book will be his first original graphic novel under his new imprint.

Fact is, I've been working on this thing and keeping quiet about it for more than a year--maybe close to two--although I did let a few hints drop from time to time to time. Both Abrams and I had our reasons for playing our cards close to our vests, but 3 p.m. Saturday in San Diego we tipped our hand. Now that I can talk about my new book--just try to shut me up!--it makes no sense to do it on a blog named for my previous one. It makes even less sense to start a second blog for the new book and try to maintain two! So I decided to carry on with a new blog named after me, less out of ego than lack of imagination. Unless I change my name, I won't face this dilemma again.

This doesn't mean I'm moving past Mom's Cancer, or turning my back on it, or anything like that. I would have none of this without that book and my mother's great gift of allowing me to write it. As I said, I know new readers are still finding it all the time. In fact, Abrams has some new plans for Mom's Cancer I'm excited about. I'll continue to blog about it and Cancer World when I have reason to.

Same guy, same stuff--plus some new stuff.

I hope you'll follow me over to the new place to learn more about The World of Tomorrow but, if not, thanks for being here. I appreciate it.


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Comic-Con '08

Overview of about 4% of Comic-Con's exhibition floor.

I'm home from my day-and-a-half whirlwind trip to San Diego for Comic-Con International, and wondering whether I'm going to write a little or a lot about it. There doesn't seem to be a middle ground. I'm gonna try to keep this brief; we'll see how I do.

I flew into town about 10 o'clock Saturday--traditionally the con's busiest day--took a taxi to the Convention Center and got my badge with no trouble. One big difference this year was that Comic-Con was completely sold out in advance, meaning there were no on-site ticket sales. That seemed to change the people-flow quite a bit and, with no enormous mobs milling around the front doors, my first impression was that it was less crowded than usual. That impression was recalibrated once I got inside.

My publisher Abrams had a booth featuring their fine line of high-quality comics-related books, where I met a few people who'd only been e-mail addresses to me before. It's always fun to put a face with the @, and they're all great people who work incredibly hard. Selling books at a convention is a tough job.

My editor, the recently betrothed Charlie Kochman (hi Rachel!), with writer Mark Evanier and me. I arrived at the Con just as Mark was finishing a signing session for his beautiful book on Jack Kirby. Mark is the busiest man at Comic-Con, moderating 17 panels this year, but we had a few minutes to talk before he had to jet off to panel number 7 or 8.

Later in the day, fellow Abrams author and MAD Magazine great Al Jaffee was signing at the booth and I had a chance to talk with him as well. He couldn't have been sweeter. This is what Comic-Con is like for me: meeting people I've admired my entire life, having conversations in which my lips move but no intelligent words emerge, and feeling regret a day later when I think of all the insightful and meaningful things I should have said. It's still pretty cool, though.

Knowing my time was short, I pursued a focused strategy of finding the people I wanted to see and buying the stuff I wanted to buy, getting done in three hours what usually takes three days. I found Raina Telgemeier and had a really nice talk with her about upcoming projects, business strategy, and the terrors that wake us screaming in the night--although I think that last part was just me. There aren't a lot of people I get to talk shop with, and Raina was the first I'd seen for a while so I'm afraid she got the brunt of it. Her husband Dave Roman, who works for Nickelodeon when not doing his own projects, wasn't at the booth then but I caught up with him Sunday morning. I think they're both terrific talents who do great work.

Another talented pair I like is Otis Frampton and his wife Leigh, whom I've considered friends for a while but never really had time to sit down and get to know better until this weekend. Otis created the Oddly Normal series and has several other projects in the works, while Leigh is an expert at Adobe software and graphic design. Together, they're a perfectly complementary creative team, each filling the other's gaps and working together toward some very ambitious goals. Otis and Leigh generously invited me to a dinner party they hosted Saturday night where I met some of their friends and collaborators, including artist Jessica Hickman (illustrator of Oddly Normal Volume 3 and now working for Disney) and Grant Gould. Grant has a book coming out soon called "Wolves of Odin," and when I tell you what it's about you'll probably do the same thing I did when I first heard about it a few months ago: smack yourself in the head and say "Of course! Why didn't I think of that?" Here it is. Ready? Vikings versus Werewolves. As far as I'm concerned, that is your entire successful pitch right there. They should just back the money truck up to his door now.

Otis and Leigh, good people

This is also what Comic-Con is like for me: "Brian, this is Jessica and Grant." "Hi, great to meet you." Smalltalk smalltalk smalltalk, 20 minutes goes by, during which we start to share who we are and why we're there. Light bulbs switch on over our heads. "Ohhh, you're JESSICA!" "Ohhh, you're GRANT!" "Ohhh, you're BRIAN!" Then the real conversations begin. I can't tell you how often that happens, when you suddenly realize the nice person you're talking to is the same person who did that great thing you really liked last year. "Ohhh!"

Stripping
Comic books and comic strips co-exist peaceably at Comic-Con, not quite overlapping or sure what to make of the other. But like a lot of fans I love both, and appreciate the chance to seek out comic strip art and creators. For example, there are always a couple of vendors displaying original art from Winsor McCay's "Little Nemo" comic strip from the early 1900s. If you go to Comic-Con and see a guy standing in front of those booths just staring at the artwork for 20 minutes, that's me. Long-time readers may recall that I have a small collection of original comic and cartoon art, most by friends and all very meaningful to me. This year I was thrilled to pick up an original daily "Pogo" by Walt Kelly, who occupies three spots in my personal list of All-Time Top Ten Cartoonists. August 11, 1965 is now mine, and I can cross one item off my Bucket List. My kids can finish college later.

The National Cartoonists Society set up its usual impressive booth, manned everytime I passed it by "Luann" cartoonist Greg Evans, with whom I had a nice talk about solar power and other things. Dan Piraro also put in a stint at the booth, and I unfortunately had just a few minutes to chat with Craig Boldman, who does "Archie" and with whom I've talked online before, when he had to race off to take part in a panel.

The NCS booth, with Greg Evans at the helm. This picture's for D.D. Degg.

"Mother Goose & Grimm" cartoonist Mike Peters was the subject of a spotlight panel, which gives creators a forum to talk about their careers or anything they want. It was probably the single most entertaining event I've ever attended at Comic-Con, and impossible to describe afterward. Moderator Mark Evanier played an excellent straight man, asking Mike a question and then pretending to be exasperated as Mike took hilarious 15-minute detours into his childhood or his mother's old television program in St. Louis or his Catholic military school education (wearing scapulas with Jesus's portrait on one side and Patton's on the other), only to end with Mark asking the exact same question and setting off another great story that barely addressed it. What an expressive, affectionate, free-associating, flamboyant personality! I left amazed that he could focus on anything long enough to actually sit down and draw a comic strip every day. It was the most fun I had all weekend.

Mark Evanier and Mike Peters. This picture is fuzzy because the lighting wasn't great, and I didn't intend to post it until I saw the expression on Mike's face. That expression pretty much sums up his entire talk.

Sightings
Comic-Con would be nothing without several celebrity or near-celebrity sightings. Among mine: movie director John Landis, writer Ray Bradbury (in a wheelchair and honestly not looking real good, but hey! It's Ray Bradbury and he's a foot away from me!), Eric Estrada, Lou Ferrigno, Lindsay Wagner (still extremely rrowr!), Robert Culp (shook his hand and told him I enjoyed his work), others great and small. (Private note to Karen's brother: Tori Amos's book was all sold out and all tickets for her autograph session snapped up two days before I arrived. Sorry, man, I tried.) I had a very nice three-minute chat with writer-actor Wil Wheaton, who was a kid in the movie "Stand by Me," the teen-aged Wesley Crusher in "Star Trek," and now all grown up and writing a blog I like. Wil and I talked about being dads, a subject on which his depth of feeling matches my own.

"Star Trek" HQ, with Avery Brooks (Sisko from "Deep Space Nine"), Jonathan Frakes (Riker from "The Next Generation") and, behind them, Robert Picardo (the Doctor from "Voyager"). All three--and in fact every celebrity I saw at the con--were very gracious toward fans and seemed genuinely happy to be there.

I also want to mention a 17-year-old 'zine creator from Berkeley named Joseph Cotsirilos, who I met on the plane. Unfortunately, we didn't start talking until the plane's wheels touched down in San Diego. I ran into him a couple of times at the Con and wouldn't be surprised to hear his name again in a few years. Joseph, if you see this, your stories about the Marine recruitment center and the spilled drink in the subway in particular showed me you've got a nice eye for detail and observing life's telling moments. That's good stuff. Keep at it.

In addition, I had one cool ego-boosting moment I won't recount, as well as a fun moment with one of the facility security staff. On Saturday I asked a cute, young, petite brunette in a red "Staff" jacket where I could find something; as we were talking she apologized for her strong Irish accent and I reassured her she had absolutely nothing to apologize for. Next day as I walked into the Con she was manning the door, so as I passed by I pointed at her and said, "Hey, you're Irish!" as if I'd just figured it out, and she displayed the funniest mix of surprise, amazement, and bafflement I think I've ever seen in my life. Laughing, I told her we'd spoken the day before, and she said, "Thank God! I thought you could somehow see it in my face!" And that's all the flirting I did all weekend, honey, I promise.

Can you believe this is the short version? And I haven't even written anything about the real reason I was there. That's my next post....
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Free to Breathe

Last year I wrote about a charity walk my sister Brenda ("Nurse Sis") helps organize to support the National Lung Cancer Partnership. The organization hosts several "Free to Breathe" run/walks around the country this time of year, including a 5K/1.5 mile event in Los Angeles on August 3. I don't vouch for much--for example, the reason I don't provide a long list of links to cancer-related sites on my blog or at momscancer.com is I don't feel I have the expertise to evaluate them or the time to keep them current--but the NLCP is a worthwhile organization that provided good information for me when Mom was diagnosed.

A few friends and readers were kind enough to donate last year and I thought I'd offer the same opportunity again. Brenda has set up a donation page for her fundraising team, "Barbara's Heroes," and if you're looking for a good cause to support please consider this one. Even small donations will be much appreciated.

I'll be flying off to Comic-Con International in San Diego early tomorrow morning. As I mentioned before, I wasn't planning to go this year, but something came up. I'll warn you right now: when I get back from the convention, things are going to be verrrry different around here.
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Whooooooooooosh!

I am so busy riding the deadline rocket sled that I can't even tell you. Can't tell you now, anyway, but in about a month you won't be able to shut me up.

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I wasn't planning to attend the San Diego Comic-Con this year, but it looks like I'm going to be in town for a day after all. Saturday, to be specific, so I should be able to take a nice, leisurely stroll through the exhibition hall and not worry about overcrowding at all (that's a joke, son). I mention it now because I know some of my writer and artist buddies read the blog occasionally and Comic-Con is one of the few chances we get to meet. Don't be surprised to see me popping up at your table mid-Saturday. In fact, you probably shouldn't even take a lunch or bathroom break.

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More later. Happy Canada Day (just past) and Independence Day (upcoming) to everyone who celebrates one of them.

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In Praise of Pioneers

A recent discussion at an Internet watering hole got me thinking about pioneering cartoonists, comic book artists and writers, and the lack of respect they get. The business has always been cruel to its veterans--comic books much more than comic strips, I think, but both find new voices more compelling, new styles more diverting. They eat their old. That's the way of the world, the way of business, and I understand it. I expect a profit-driven publisher (and publishers who aren't profit-driven don't publish long) to put out what sells.

What pains me is that fans go along.

The newspaper comic strip is just over a century old. Comic books have a history almost as long--at first, many of them existed to reprint newspaper strips--but turned a corner when Superman debuted in 1938, 70 years ago this June. Before the invention of television, comic strips were a major mass medium of entertainment and cartoonists were stars. Millions of comic books were sold every month during the "Golden Age" that began with World War II and lasted about a decade after (again, probably not coincidentally ending with the proliferation of TV). Into the 1970s, comics and cartoons were important and popular cultural touchstones in a way that many, including I, believe they haven't been since and probably won't be again.

That wasn't that long ago! A lot of very creative people who did that work are still alive. A few of them would still love to work. Not many of them get the opportunity.

Attending the big San Diego Comic-Con the past three years, I've gotten used to seeing cartooning pioneers sitting ignored in Artist's Alley, their view blocked by a long line waiting to meet the superstar wunderkind sitting at the next table. I dunno.... I've got no business telling people what to like. But to me, being a fan of something means having an appreciation of its history and the contributions of those who came before. To me, those fans lining up at the wrong table are like baseball fans who worship Barry Bonds but have never heard of Willie Mays.

(It's not the same thing, but I remember reading about a convention whose guests included "Star Trek" actors and Apollo astronauts. The actors drew huge crowds while the astronauts sat alone, chuckling to each other that fans would rather meet people who pretended to explore space than those who actually had.)

I can't say that the experienced pioneers deserve work; that's for the market to decide. But they deserve acknowledgement and respect. I've been lucky to meet a few. I never know what to say and I'm sure I always manage to sound like an idiot fanboy. It seems to come down to "thank you for your work, it means a lot to me," which is pretty weak but I think is better than nothing.

I'd take Willie Mays any day.

Top to bottom: Jerry Robinson, Irwin Hasen and Gene Colan,
talented pioneers and gracious gentlemen all. Look 'em up.

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After the Con

Well, that went pretty much as I expected. Comic-Con International in San Diego was a tightly packed pressure cooker of crowds, noise and fun. Compared to the past two years, my impression was that the mob was a little less unruly, perhaps because convention organizers stopped selling tickets and advertised the fact that particular days were sold out. We had no trouble getting our badges. In terms of organization and crowd control, Con organizers seem to have learned from past difficulties. Still, 120,000 people in one place is a bunch no matter how you slice 'em.

A short movie I shot on Saturday, the busiest day, panning the convention floor from the mezzanine. Booths are downstairs, several simultaneous panels are going on upstairs. It's all more than anyone could possibly absorb.

People-watching is a terrific sport at Comic-Con. We criticize TV newscasts and other media for only focusing on the outlandishly costumed, complaining that the weirdos don't represent the normal level-headed comics fans like us, but in fact we're just as bad. People in good costumes drew conferees who couldn't wait to take their pictures, and if they got together with a few friends--like the Batman-Robin-Catwoman trifecta or a gaggle of Star Wars Stormtroopers--they could stop traffic for 20 yards. Usually in the worst possible spot.

Galactic bounty hunters come in all sizes.

Klingon on a cell phone. "Can you hear me now, P'takh?"

All in all, my general thoughts on Comic-Con were well summarized by Mark Evanier, who moderated approximately 153 panels and has been attending the event since it began. In his blog Mark wrote: I sometimes think that anyone can have a great time at that convention if they'll only do a little advance planning and make the effort to find the convention they want to attend. There are a lot of conventions occurring simultaneously in that hall, ranging in intensity from the high-tech, high-pressure trade show located where the toy and videogame companies are situated, all the way down to the friendly and creative low-tech con in and around Artists' Alley. What interests you is probably in there somewhere but you have to go looking for it. It won't find you.

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I found my convention.

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The Eisner Awards were long, more than three hours, but the ceremony moved along most of the time. My sister Elisabeth ("Kid Sis") came and it was great to see her. I thought most of the presenters did a commendable job. Actor/comedian Brian Posehn was very funny, as were Ben Garant and Tom Lennon from "Reno: 911." Garant and Lennon noted with surprise that no Eisner Award winners had yet thanked God for their victories. That became a running gag after they left the stage, as a couple of winners thanked God sarcastically and Gene Luen Yang (American Born Chinese) appeared to do so sincerely. The evening's other running gag involved trophy presenter and co-host Jane Wiedlin, guitarist for the Go-Gos. Ms. Wiedlin is an attractive woman whose responsibilities included herding winners off the right side of the stage to have their photos taken; after a while, the winners deduced they could get a nice embrace from her if they pretended to walk off in the wrong direction. My two categories were near the end of the evening and I had the pleasure of hearing Neil Gaiman mispronounce my name twice. Then I lost and slumped back to my hotel to silently weep myself to sleep.

Paul Dini and Mark Evanier presenting Eisner Awards, with Jane Wiedlin to the left. It may be hard to see at this resolution but the award second from the right was missing its spinning globe. Unbearable suspense built through evening as everyone wondered who would win the broken trophy. As I recall, it went to comic book artist Paul Pope (I assume Comic-Con will get him a new one, although personally I'd be tempted to keep the broken one).

My book signing on Saturday didn't draw a big crowd. However, quality more than compensated for quantity. People who've read and appreciated Mom's Cancer enough to seek me out at a convention are invariably the nicest people I've met. Almost every conversation touches me in some way and reminds me why I wrote the book. The people staffing the Abrams booth told me they got similar reactions even when I wasn't there. It's hugely gratifying.

Signing books, with my editor Charlie Kochman and his girlfriend Rachel (left) and Wimpy Kid author Jeff Kinney and his wife Julie (right).

In addition, I met and answered a few questions for a master's candidate at Northwestern University doing a thesis on the form and aesthetics of graphic memoirs, including mine. I saw some of his analysis and it's quite academic and literary, not at all "fanboyish," and I'm sure we'll follow up with each other later. It's a treat to talk to someone who takes the medium seriously, not to mention flattering to be considered worth studying.

Nice People [Fair Warning: all of the people I mention below can be described as "very nice." Some even as "extraordinarily nice." This is my honest appraisal of their character; I am not naturally a pollyanna and would tell you if they were jerks--or, more likely, not mention them at all. (So if I met you at Comic-Con and don't mention you below, assume you were a jerk.)] Editor Charlie took a small party of us to dinner Friday night before the Eisners, including my friend and bestselling author (I never get tired of writing that) Jeff Kinney. Jeff's Diary of a Wimpy Kid has spent 14 weeks on the New York Times Bestseller List for Children's Chapter Books; I believe it's currently #2. I met Jeff's wife Julie, and he and I sat at one end of the table talking shop and saying catty things about the Bestseller List's #1. As I probably said too often, if all of the success and opportunities coming Jeff's way had happened to anyone else, I'd be jealous. Knowing him, I can only be happy for him. Jeff and Julie also came to the Eisner Awards and sat through the entire ordeal even though they didn't have to. That's loyalty. Or something. Other Abrams authors I spent a few minutes with were Brom, whom I got to know when my book was released in New York and whose new book, The Devil's Rose, is packed with his lush and disturbing paintings, and Lela Lee, creator of the Angry Little Girls series, which I understand has an enormous fanbase. Both good people. Before the convention, I made a list of the people I wanted to find. Top of the list was Otis Frampton, creator of the "Oddly Normal" series published by Viper Comics. Otis is a great guy and we finally had a chance to talk, in contrast to last year when we said a quick Hello expecting to meet up again and never did. I met Otis's wife Leigh, whom he married in Japan over Christmas. Leigh is terrific. Like many spouses, she doesn't quite share her partner's passion for this comics universe, but plunges in fully to provide all the support she can regardless. I grok.

Me with Otis and Leigh. The critter on Leigh's head is one of Otis's characters, Oopie, which Leigh sewed days before the Con and wore for four days straight. That's love.

Second on my list were Raina Telgemeier and Dave Roman, also married (to each other) since the last time I saw them. I found Raina first and had a nice long talk with her about her work on "The Baby-Sitters Club" graphic adaptations and new projects we're both contemplating, and briefly caught up with Dave later. Dave and Raina also both did stories for the latest Flight 4 anthology. Raina didn't believe I'd actually made a list that had her name on it until I pulled it out and showed it to her; then I think she became a bit spooked. Nicest people in the world, buy their stuff so they can keep doing it.

With Raina

I had a long and very good talk with Michael Jantze, creator of the formerly syndicated comic strip "The Norm," who lives in my part of the country. He'd read Mom's Cancer and, like many readers, found ways in which it related all too well to his life. I was very pleased to discover that merely by virtue of being on his cartoonists e-mailing list I am considered a member of the Northern California division of the National Cartoonists Society ("just Northern California," he was quick to point out). I thanked him and said that as an antisocial loner I probably wouldn't be showing up to too many functions; he pointed out that I'd pretty much just defined the word "cartoonist." Just thinking about it makes me misty.

With Michael Jantze

I've met "Luann" cartoonist Greg Evans a few times before, a fact I reminded him of when I reintroduced myself to him as he manned the National Cartoonists Society booth. He's always very nice about it. Our conversation went something like this:

Me: "I actually met you at the Schulz Museum recently, and at the Eisner Awards a couple of years ago." Mr. Evans: "Oh!" "Yeah. In fact, I was nominated for two Eisner Awards last night but I didn't win." "I'm sorry." "My strategy is to keep introducing myself to you everytime I see you until you finally remember me." "Well, now I'll remember you as 'that Loser Guy.'" In print that looks like kind of a nasty comeback, but in person--said dryly with a sly smile on his lips--it was hilarious.

Greg Evans (in green shirt) at the NCS booth. I swear this photo was in focus when I took it.

I saw some amazing original art and almost bought a couple of pieces in my price range. It was tempting. However, I was stopped by my "rule" that I only acquire artwork directly from artists with whom I've made some personal connection. I've decided that rule doesn't apply to deceased artists and almost picked up a Walt Kelly "Pogo," but that's a slippery and potentially expensive slope indeed. In the end I came home with nothing but some free posters I'll never post, a free t-shirt I'll never wear advertising a movie I'll never see, and four art pens that cost me $10. In point of fact, aside from a few pieces of art and a nearly three-foot-long $1200 USS Enterprise, I didn't see anything I really wanted. No regrets.

Someday, my lovely, you will be mine.

That's about it. My wife and I managed to escape the convention center and spend some time doing other things in San Diego, one of our favorite cities. We didn't rent a car and had no regrets about that, either. Between the city's trolleys and bus system, we got everywhere we wanted to go.

The next notable event on my radar is the Harvey Awards, to be presented at the Baltimore Comic-Con on September 8. Mom's Cancer is nominated in three categories. I haven't made any reservations yet, but I intend to attend. I've got an almost-new acceptance speech all ready to go. .

Congratulations to Me!

My forecast for the two Eisner Awards I was up for--posted here
July 18 and completely untouched, unedited, and unrevised in the interim--was 100 percent accurate! As a psychic, I went 2 for 0!

Unfortunately, in terms of actually winning one of the awards, I went 0 for 2.

I still had a very fine time. Just arrived home; more stories and pictures when I have the time and energy later. Thanks for everyone's well wishes and my congratulations to the winners. Which I totally predicted.
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Comic-Con Pre-Flight

Quick note for those interested in how our girls are doing in Scotland: great! Their course on Medieval History & Warfare sounds engrossing without being so demanding that they have no time for fun. They've done quite a bit of exploring on their own, and also tried their hand at Scottish cooking. They'll get to spend a few days in London on their way home and we're looking forward to having them back at the end of the month. Maybe they'll let me post some photos (we haven't seen any yet; their Internet access is limited, plus they have better things to do than sit at a computer typing to the folks).

A tiny slice of last year's Comic-Con

It's hard to believe that Comic-Con International is a week away. San Diego is a city my wife and I like very much and we're going to make a nice vacation of it. I'll also be there to work, which assuages my conscience come tax write-off time. In the unlikely event anyone reading this would like to meet me, I'll be signing Mom's Cancer on Saturday from Noon to 12:30 at the Abrams booth (#1021 in Aisle 1000--look for the big numbered banners hanging from the ceiling).

I may do additional impromptu signings, and will certainly leave dozens of autographed books at the booth; check there for schedule updates. Abrams has several other authors lined up, including my friend and New York Times Bestselling Author (that's a string of words I've never been able to use before) Jeff Kinney, plus a great selection of graphic novels and comics-themed books I'd buy even if they weren't from my publisher. I'm really looking forward to seeing some friends, maybe making some new ones, and meeting some talented creators.

The other place you'll be sure to find me is at the Eisner Awards on Friday night. Jackie Estrada does an impressive job putting the event together and, for the first time, Abrams has enough people and presence to occupy an entire table. Cool. Mom's Cancer is nominated for two Eisner Awards: Best Reality-Based Work and Best Graphic Album-Reprint. A while back I said I didn't expect to win either and might share my guesses as to who might. How 'bout now?

Besides my book, nominees for Best Reality-Based Work are I Love Led Zeppelin by Ellen Forney, Project X Challengers: Cup Noodle by Tadashi Katoh, Stagger Lee by Derek McCulloch and Shepherd Hendrix, and Fun Home by Alison Bechdel. I must admit I haven't seen the first three works, which you might think would handicap my powers of prognostication. It does not. Fun Home is the 942-pound gorilla in this category--critically acclaimed, terrific sales, and huge mainstream crossover readership--and, as sure as the sun will rise over San Diego Saturday morning, it will win no matter what it's up against. It might even deserve to.

I figure my odds are only slightly better for Best Graphic Album-Reprint, where the competition is Absolute DC: The New Frontier by Darwyn Cooke, Castle Waiting by Linda Medley, Shadowland by Kim Deitch, and Truth Serum by Jon Adams. I haven't seen Truth Serum. Shadowland and Castle Waiting are both worthy works to which I would be honored to lose, but my pick for this category is Darwyn Cooke, whose deliberately retro storytelling and inkwork earned wide acclaim and restored something very fresh and fun to the superhero comic. He's won Eisners before, and I think a lot of the voting pros appreciate his uniquely stylized take and will be happy to reward him for it. However, if some bizarre vote-splitting occurs, I might have a shot here.

Having a sincere near-zero expectation of winning removes any tension or anxiety I might otherwise feel about the trip. As I think I wrote last year, Comic-Con International is fun in the same way being at DisneyWorld with 100,000-plus people is fun: you know the crowds will be crushing, parking impossible (in fact we're going sans auto this year), food scarce and expensive, all the good attractions filled beyond capacity, and you'll never get around to half the things you want to do. And yet, with some patience and strategy, it can be a blast anyway.
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San Diego e Italia

Yesterday I firmed up plans to attend the International Comic-Con in San Diego this July--meaning I finally found a place to stay, which is a genuine challenge when 100,000-plus descend on a city. As I mentioned earlier, the people who decide such things were nice enough to nominate Mom's Cancer for two Eisner Awards, and it seems polite to show up even though I don't expect to win (not being humble, just analytically realistic). It's a fun event regardless. I'll get to sign some books at my publisher's booth, see a few friends, and no doubt make one or two new ones. My wife and I also enjoy the city itself and we'll make a nice, not-all-comics-all-the-time vacation of it.

I also found out yesterday that the Italian edition of Mom's Cancer will be published in June. And that's literally all I know about that. I'm looking forward to seeing what they did with it.

2007 Eisner Award Nonimations

The official press release has been posted, so I'm free to report that Mom's Cancer has been nominated for two 2007 Will Eisner Awards in the categories "Best Reality-Based Work" and "Best Graphic Album--Reprint." The Eisners are the comic industry's Oscars, voted on by professionals and presented at Comic-Con International in San Diego in July. The other nominees in my categories are:

Best Reality-Based Work
Fun Home by Alison Bechdel
I Love Led Zeppelin by Ellen Forney
Project X Challengers: Cup Noodle by Tadashi Katoh
Stagger Lee by Derek McCulloch and Shepherd Hendrix

Best Graphic Album—Reprint
Absolute DC: The New Frontier by Darwyn Cooke
Castle Waiting by Linda Medley
Shadowland by Kim Deitch
Truth Serum by Jon Adams

Surprising? Exciting? Intimidating? Yeah. I had to double-check it a few times myself, and even now I'm not sure I trust my own lying eyes. Two Eisner nominations is a tremendous honor.

Maybe after the voting ends I'll have some comments about who I think should win and who will win (hint: not necessarily me). Until then, I think it's fairest to let the works speak for themselves. However, if any Eisner voters happen to read this, I'm an amoral man with cash to spend. I'm just sayin'.

Mom's Cancer began on the Web and won the Eisner for "Best Digital Comic" in 2005. The nominations announced today are for the subsequent book, which I'll defend as its own unique thing. Although most of the words and pictures are the same, reading the story collected in print rather than serialized over several months online is a very different experience. In addition, a book is much more collaborative. While the online version was all me, the book reflects tremendous creative contributions by people at Abrams, including my book's editor, art director, designer, and production manager. They added ideas I wouldn't have conceived myself and went to unusual expense and effort to publish a quality book. This one's for the team.

And since I'm cheerleading for the team, I'll add that Abrams got two other Eisner nominations this year, which is terrific for a relatively small publishing house that wasn't even in the comics/graphic novel game a few years ago. They are Art Out of Time: Unknown Comics Visionaries, 1900-1969 by Dan Nadel (nominated for "Best Archival Collection"), and Cartoon America: Comic Art in the Library of Congress edited by Harry Katz (nominated for "Best Comics-Related Book"). I have both books and think they're great.

More soon, I'm sure. And "Woohoo!"
.

Post Post 3: Comic-Con Buys

Third in a series summarizing my time at Comic-Con. Check out the installments below and then come on back.

Although I saw much to covet at Comic-Con, ranging from Golden Age comics to really cool movie props, I came home with just two new things. A lot of cartoonists are also collectors, I think. It's an urge I've resisted although, as I wrote a while ago, the first thing I bought with my advance for Mom's Cancer was a 1914 drawing by cartooning great Winsor McCay that I felt I didn't deserve to have until I could pay for it with "cartooning money." Fantastic, but not the start of a habit.

However, I have begun a small collection of original comic and cartooning art that I hope will grow. The catch is that it has to be drawn by, and acquired directly from, someone I've made a personal connection with. Not necessarily a friend--that would set the bar pretty high--but someone with whom I've spent a little time, had a nice conversation, shared a moment I valued. I expect that criterion to both keep my collection (and related expenses) manageable and give it some emotional weight. I'm collecting pieces that mean something to me.

Raina Telgemeier, "The Baby-Sitters Club."

I think very highly of Raina as a cartoonist and storyteller. She has a crisp, clean, expressive ink line that I really like. On Saturday, she and I spent five minutes discussing ink viscosity (she likes hers thin, I like mine thick). I haven't talked with her about her artistic aesthetic in any great depth, but based on her work I believe we share similar ideas about what cartooning can and should be. She's thoughtful, and deceptively good--moreso because she makes it look easy. I think those traits made her the perfect choice to relaunch "The Baby-Sitters Club" stories as graphic novels.

My page from "The Baby-Sitters Club." Raina pencils with non-photo blue and produces some of the most pristine originals I've ever seen. I love the expressiveness of the figure below from Panel 4, as well as the brick-work texture she uses to anchor both the beginning and end of the page. She makes good choices.

In my previous post, I wrote about the warmth and lack of cynicism I perceive in the cartooning of both Raina and her fiance Dave. It's interesting: as time passes I think I'm getting more opinionated and cranky, but at the same time I have less and less patience for cynicism. Cynicism is lazy. It's arrogant and anti-creative. It doesn't accomplish anything. As hard-headed a rationalist as I am, I increasingly treasure art and literature with heart. Heart is risky and takes skill to pull off. And Raina's work is always 0% cynicism, 100% heart.

Not very flattering, but the only photo I have of
Raina and me together, taken at APE in San Francisco.

Irwin Hasen, "Dondi"

I love the old guys.

The comics industry is famous for devouring its own. I know good, professional artists in their thirties forced out of the business for lack of work while thousands of eager teens line up with sketchbooks in hand ready to take their places. Short memories and fickle trends turn today's creative heroes into tomorrow's tired hacks. There's precious little appreciation or respect for the men and women who began and built the business--many of them still alive, some of them still working.

I've mentioned how I originally met Irwin Hasen in February at my book launch party at the Society of Illustrators building in New York. I saw him again the next day at the New York Comic-Con, selling prints of the old DC characters he drew plus originals from his long-running comic strip "Dondi." I only took the time to greet him briefly, and left New York regretting that I'd let an opportunity slip through my fingers.

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This original strip from 1968 is huge, nearly two feet wide. No contemporary cartoonist that I know of works that large, mostly because the shrinking space newspapers devote to comic strips doesn't allow for the kind of detail Mr. Hasen drew, for example in Panel 1 below. (I don't know what the ® symbol is doing under the right word balloon--I suspect it was originally pasted elsewhere and migrated over the years--but that's the way I got it so that's where it's gonna stay.)

Last Thursday I saw Mr. Hasen again, set up in Comic-Con's Artists Alley. No one was at his table; in fact, I had to elbow my way through a line of fans queued up to meet the Hot Young Artist at the table next door to get to him. I reintroduced myself and we had a nice conversation, when I looked over his table and noticed only the prints. No originals.

"Oh, I remember you had some Dondi originals in New York," I said, disappointed. "I was really hoping to see them."

Mr. Hasen gave me a conspiratorial nod, pulled a portfolio from under the table, and slid out a dozen "Dondi" strips. We continued to talk as I flipped through them, figuring out which one I wanted to buy. At last I chose my prize.

"You've got a good eye, you S.O.B.," said Mr. Hasen, eyes twinkling. "You picked the best one."

With Irwin Hasen in New York, February 2006

Two pieces of art that will always remind me of the creators who made them and the time I spent with them.

Post Post 2: Comic-Con People

This is my second post about my long weekend at the San Diego Comic-Con. You'd do best to start with the first one and then come back here, I think.

I am always impressed by how nice people in the comics business are. I know there are also prima donnas and raging egos, maybe more than you'd find among the general population, but the pros I meet--who tend to be either friends of friends or people whose work I respect--have been warm, gracious, and generous with their time. I can't think of an exception.

The first person I sought out when I arrived for Preview Night on Wednesday was Otis Frampton. Otis created the "Oddly Normal" character for a series of Viper Comics books and has done hundreds of officially authorized sketch cards (like cartoon trading cards) of characters from Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, and Marvel Comics. He's a great guy with a very clean, stylized line I like very much. Unfortunately, we only had a few minutes to catch up before he had to get back to working his table.

Raina Telgemeier and Dave Roman are two very good cartoonists engaged to marry each other later this year. The comic they drew together describing their courtship and engagement is one of the warmest, least cynical things I've ever read. I'll write a bit more about Raina in the next post, but for now suffice to say that I had a couple of occasions to chat with them both and consider those moments a highlight of my Con.

Jeff Kinney spent eight years developing his "Diary of a Wimpy Kid" webcomic, which Editor Charlie recently acquired for Abrams. In other words, he's almost exactly where I was about a year and a half ago. We'd corresponded a couple of times and finally had a chance to meet during the Con, where we sat on the floor next to a trash can surrounded by screaming kids while I spilled my guts. I hoped to paint a clear and honest picture of the months awaiting him; judging by his tearful anguished sobs I succeeded. I was happy to provide whatever small experience-based advice I could and I really hope his book is a huge success. If people bought books based on the author's niceness, Jeff would be J.K. Rowling.

Jeff Kinney, Charlie Kochman, and me

Without Jerry Robinson, Batman wouldn't have had either Robin or the Joker, at least as we know them today. Along with Bob Kane and Bill Finger (arguments still rage about how much credit each deserves), Robinson created Batman and his world. I actually met Mr. Robinson last year, but only briefly at his Artists Alley table, long enough to say hello and thank him for his work. At this year's Eisner Awards, I got a proper introduction from Charlie and had a very nice conversation with him.

With Jerry Robinson

I'd also met Irwin Hasen before, at my book launch party in New York in February, and had a chance to reconnect with him last weekend. Mr. Hasen is another industry giant, drawing the original Flash, Green Lantern, and Justice Society of America in the 1940s and later starting the comic strip Dondi. I've got a short story about Mr. Hasen that, like Raina, will wait for the next installment.

Mark Evanier has had a long career in comics and show business, working as an assistant to Jack Kirby, a writer/producer on Welcome Back Kotter and dozens of other programs and specials, producer of the Garfield animated series, co-creator of "Groo the Wanderer," and much more. He's also a terrific, prolific blogger whose News From Me is a daily stop of mine. Mark was sitting with Jerry Robinson at the Eisners when Charlie introduced me to both, and I was floored when Mark said that not only had he read and liked my book, but that he'd lost his only copy by lending it to a friend. I think about the sweetest words a writer can hear is that someone liked your work enough to give it to a friend. I'll be sending Mark an inscribed replacement as soon as I can.

Brian Walker is the son of cartoonist Mort Walker, a writer for Beetle Bailey, and a respected comics historian in his own right. As with Mr. Hasen, I'd met Brian in New York and had a brief conversation with him there. I certainly had no reason to expect him to remember me when I approached him after the NCS panel at Comic-Con, but he did. He added that he'd recently spoken to a group about webcomics and used me and Mom's Cancer as an example of one avenue of success available through the medium. I was both astonished and grateful, though I think Brian may need to recalibrate his definition of "success."

Standing beside Brian after the NCS panel was Jay Kennedy. Mr. Kennedy ("call me Jay") is the comics editor for King Features Syndicate, the company that distributes comic strips like Blondie, Beetle Bailey, Popeye, Family Circus, Zits, Sally Forth, Bizarro, and a bajillion others throughout the known world. Although I haven't done so for several years, for a long period of my life I regularly sent comic strip proposals to King Features and the other syndicates. Jay was one of the first to send me anything other than a standard rejection letter. Later, when I submitted an idea he kind of liked, he spent quite a bit of time providing detailed feedback about what worked, what didn't, what he wanted to see more of, etc. That idea eventually died but ever since I've hoped to have the opportunity to thank him in person for his encouragement and unique approach to new talent. So I was stunned and frankly incredulous when Jay looked at my name tag, said he thought Mom's Cancer was great, and added that he remembered my work and liked it very much.

I can't stress too strongly that I'm not being falsely modest or disingenuous when I say I'm surprised that people like Mark Evanier and Jay Kennedy know my work. I had absolutely no expectation that they would. Zero. It never entered my mind. Which is why I froze, stammered, and said stupid things when they informed me otherwise. Now they'll remember me as that babbling idiot who drooled on their shoes.

And now....

Pictures of People I Didn't Meet But Got Close Enough to to Take Their Picture

John DeLancie, "Q" on Star Trek. I actually had a brief conversation with him but he lost interest quickly. I could tell we were done when his gaze moved past me...not onto anyone else in line (there was no line), but at a molecule of air five feet beyond me that was apparently more fascinating than I was.

Erin Gray (from Buck Rogers) and Nichelle Nichols (if I need to explain, get off of my blog). Ms. Nichols looked quite wonderful, while Ms. Gray very much reminded me why I would have killed a hobo for her if she'd asked me to back in 1980 or so.

Also seen up close and personal: Richard Hatch (from the real Battlestar Galactica), who should be gently told that gym shorts and a sleeveless sweatshirt stopped being a good look for him a while ago. Greg Evans (Luann), still sporting the best head of hair in cartooning. Richard Anderson, the Six-Million-Dollar Man's Oscar Goldman, looking very distinguished and dapper but hot and bored. Marc Singer, the Beastmaster, who left me with no particular impression. Plus, a gorgeous six-foot-four Supergirl who might have been a guy but at the moment I didn't care.

Plus all these people:

If that's you in there, drop me a line and let me know.

Comic-Con International 2006: Post Post 1

I survived.

I'm back home from The Big One, the San Diego Comic-Con International 2006, hotter and more hectic than I remember from 2005. The event had a different feel for me this year. Mostly, I didn't have to fret about whether I was going to win an Eisner Award, although it was still very much a working vacation for me. My three panels went well, I think, and I met some great readers during two hours of signing books at the Abrams booth. I also felt like I had a few more friends and was a little more at home.

This entry had the potential to be either the longest blog post in the storied history of blogging or not. I decided "not." This'll be a quick overview, followed soon by posts focusing on People I Met, Stuff I Got, and maybe more (when I write those entries, I'll add links from here).

Overview: Fantastic. As I was a special guest this year, Guest Coordinator Sue Lord and her staff went to great effort to smooth my path and make me feel welcome. After my wife, girls, and two of our girls' friends flew in Wednesday, we were met in the hotel lobby by Vicki (don't remember if she spells it with an "i" or "y") who helped us check in and had our Con badges waiting for us, along with a Big Bag O' Swag: Comic-Con mugs, chocolates, cookies, stationery, first-aid kit, tissues, water bottles--an enviable trove. I learned early the next day that Sue had also assigned volunteers to be at my disposal, ferrying me wherever I wanted to go, finding whatever I asked for, and fulfilling my every wish. My first request was that they take the weekend off and leave me alone because they were creeping me out. And yet they persevered, which turned out to be a good thing later. My thanks especially to Jerry, a great guy who more than once "coincidentally" emerged from a shadow or popped out from behind a pillar to appear just when I needed him. In fact, I think I hear him in my kitchen now, preparing me a mid-evening snack.

Thursday was my big work day, with a 2 p.m. book signing, 5 p.m. Spotlight Panel, and 6 p.m. Webcomics panel. I find that my signings in comics-related venues aren't big draws. Although Mom's Cancer is a comic, I don't think this is precisely my audience. However, what I lack in quantity I recoup in quality. I met at least a dozen people this weekend who reminded me exactly why I wrote Mom's Cancer and made me very glad I did. I'm grateful to them. Wolverine has more readers but I wouldn't trade.

I think my Spotlight Panel went fine. I'd never done a full dress rehearsal with my PowerPoint presentation but figured it would run long, which it did. I had to rush toward the end but managed to finish and hit all the good stuff. Nurse Sis and Kid Sis both attended, which was fantastic. My favorite moment: a Comic-Con staffer standing at the back of the room held up a "15 Minutes Left" sign. I caught the staffer's eye and unthinkingly said "Thank you" to her for the time cue. The audience must have figured I'd abruptly finished my talk in mid-thought and immediately began applauding. I felt a little apologetic explaining that I wasn't quite done yet. The other parts of my talk that I intended to be funny seemed to be, the serious parts seemed likewise well received, and I think I hit a nice balance. I took a few questions, then had to immediately excuse myself to run 50 feet down the hall to my second panel on "Developing Your Webcomic."

Me in the Spotlight, wielding a laser pointer--usually a mistake.

I think this also went well, and frankly turned out to be more focused than I expected. We talked a lot about the freedom the Web provides, the promise of Internet cartooning versus how it's actually applied, each of our worst mistakes/best advice, etc. Moderator Bill Barnes from "Unshelved" did a good job keeping things moving, and about half the panel was turned over to audience questions. I don't know what the audience got out of it but I enjoyed participating.

Webcomics 101 Panel with (L to R) Dave Kellett (Sheldon), Jon Rosenberg (Goats), me, and Phil Foglio (Girl Genius)

Friday we went to the Zoo. Then I went to the Eisner Awards. Since this was more or less a whim on my part, I was surprised to be greeted at the door by Vicki, who tut-tutted that she had a seat reserved for me at Table 23. I protested; I really just wanted to sit in the audience. I wasn't dressed for an awards show (although I had showered after the Zoo visit, thank goodness) and it's a lot easier to sneak out that way. Vicki insisted, and I was tackled by my editor, Charlie Kochman, who also insisted and sat me down next to one of his best and oldest friends, Rob Simpson, an editor for Dark Horse Comics. Charlie has good taste in friends and I really enjoyed talking with Rob. I met some people (more later) and sat five feet from Frank Miller and 10 feet from Jim Steranko (didn't meet them; just basked in the incandescence of their greatness). I was also tremendously entertained by a belligerent drunk who let his opinion be heard on every nominee and especially the winners he found undeserving. The show really did turn out to be much better from the tables.

Saturday began with a 90-minute panel on the question "What is Mainstream?" Again, I thought this moved right along and was surprisingly focused. The basic thrust of the discussion was whether comics are moving into mainstream culture, how that is happening, how we could generate more of it, etc., but there was plenty of digression. Eight panelists made for a big group, but we brought an interesting diversity of perspective and experience to the discussion. It was a pretty free-wheeling but smart conversation, I thought. More good questions. Worth everyone's time, I hope.

Moderator Chris Brandt herded (L to R) Abrams' Charles Kochman (that's right, my Editor Charlie), Bryce Coleman (Tokyopop), me, Landry Walker and Eric Jones (Kid Gravity, Super Scary Monster Show, Disney digests), Linda Medley (Castle Waiting; I also did a panel with her at San Francisco's Alternative Press Expo), Andy Runton (Owly, which won an Eisner Award the previous day), and Batton Lash (Supernatural Law).

Another signing Saturday afternoon, with plenty of free time Thursday through Saturday for my own fannish ogling and shopping. I attended several panels I was interested in, among the best a panel put on by the National Cartoonists Society (NCS) about syndicated comic strips. I met some people (more later, I said!). It was a very good talk, little I hadn't really heard before, no big spoilers, but it carried a lot of weight coming from the mouths of pros. They talked a bit about their different approaches to the job and how their individual problem-solving process works. And some of these guys are pretty quick and funny.

Moderator Fred Bronson with NCS panelists Brian Walker (Beetle Bailey), Vic Lee (Pardon My Planet), Michael Jantze (The Norm), Dan Piraro (Bizarro), Jeff "Not Little Jeffy Anymore" Keane (Family Circus), and Andrew Feinstein (Girls and Sports).

That photo's mostly for my friends on the newsgroup rec.arts.comics.strips. They actually wanted a picture of the NCS booth at the Con, which I visited but didn't photograph. This is the best I can do, gang. Apologies for the quality of the photos in general, but they keep those rooms surprisingly dark to help out the video projectors.

More later.

Spotlight on San Diego

Packing now to fly to Comic-Con International tomorrow. Meanwhile, the above is a little preview of my Spotlight Panel talk on Thursday. I'd love to see you there. I'd love to see anyone there.

I'm approaching the con with the same mix of anticipation and dread you might have when planning a trip to DisneyWorld. You know you're going to have fun, but you also know it's going to be hot, crowded, hard to park, expensive to eat, and full of minor hassles. There are a thousand opportunities to be frustrated and miserable. And it's going to be great anyway.

For the last time, here's where I'm planning to be:
- Thursday, July 20, 5 p.m., Room 1B: Spotlight on Brian Fies.
- Thursday, July 20, 6 p.m., Room 3: Developing Your Webcomic panel discussion.
- Saturday, July 22, 10:30 a.m., Room 2: What Is Mainstream? Another panel discussion.

I'm also scheduled to sign books at the Harry N. Abrams booth (#5455, right up near the front doors) Thursday from 2 to 3 p.m. and Saturday from 2 to 3 p.m. I'm going to see if I can sneak in something late Friday as well.

Don't know if I'll have any opportunities to blog from San Diego, but I'm sure I'll be back with pictures and stories afterward.

Final Comic-Con Plans

I'm still very busy on deadline and hope to write more interestingly soon, but meanwhile wanted to post my final schedule for Comic-Con. I'm really looking forward to this. Here's what I'm doing:

Comic-Con International
July 20-23, 2006
San Diego, California

- Thursday, July 20, 5 p.m., Room 1B:Spotlight on Brian Fies. An hour of solopsistic self-absorption that I'll make as interesting as I can.

- Thursday, July 20, 6 p.m., Room 3: Developing Your Webcomic. I will be one of several people in this panel discussion, which is part of Comic-Con's three-day "Webcomic School."

- Saturday, July 22, 10:30 a.m., Room 2: What Is Mainstream? A panel discussion about how the definition of mainstream comics literature is evolving in the market. Or something like that.

I'll also be signing books at the Harry N. Abrams booth at every opportunity. Don't know where it is yet, but I'm sure we'll be listed in the program.

Hi, Larry.

The Eisner Awards

The comics industry's Eisner Awards, named for pioneering writer and artist Will Eisner, are given as part of the annual Comic-Con International convention. One of the largest conventions of any kind anywhere, Comic-Con drew more than 90,000 people to San Diego, Calif. in July 2005 for a four-day celebration of comic books, comic strips, movies, video games, toys, animation, and anything loosely connected to science fiction and fantasy. It's huge.

The Eisner Award is commonly referred to as the industry's "Oscar," given for excellence in 26 categories in addition to special awards for humanitarian work, the Hall of Fame, etc. Eisners go to writers, artists, colorists, letterers, retailers, one-shot projects, limited series, continuing series--and, for the first time in 2005, digital comics. The Eisner judges defined "digital comics" very precisely so that, for example, most animated work would not be considered. In early 2005, Mom's Cancer was nominated for Best Digital Comic.

This was my first Comic-Con, and it was overwhelming. My wife and two girls came along and we found "Kid Sis" (the true comics geek in the family) at the event. I got to meet in person some people I'd come to know on the Internet, make some new friends, and shake hands with some childhood idols. I encourage you to seek out the work of the following creators, even if you normally wouldn't, because justice demands that good people be rewarded: Otis Frampton (Oddly Normal, a very charming character and series), Frank Cammuso (Max Hamm, Fairy Tale Detective), Raina Telgemeier (Smile, The Babysitters Club), Eric Shanower (Age of Bronze), and Ted Slampyak (Annie, Jazz Age Chronicles).

The awards ceremony is traditionally held Friday night in a large ballroom. It is structured much like the movies' Academy Awards, with noteworthy presenters giving the awards a few at a time, interspersed with special presentations or recognitions. The evening seemed to move very quickly until the Best Digital Comic category and then very slowly afterward. What happened in the few minutes between is a blur. When presenter Scott McCloud read the list of nominees and announced that Mom's Cancer had won, my priorities were to move quickly, remember to mention everyone important, and not make a fool of myself. I am told I largely succeeded.

The Eisner Award is a tremendous honor that I never expected to receive. It's extremely gratifying. Much of the success of Mom's Cancer has come because readers found it online, connected to the story in a very personal way, and recommended it to others. I appreciate that most of all.