The Wrath of Con

Man, an entry title that is both a Star Trek and a Veronica Mars reference (or, rather, me referencing V. Mars referencing Star Trek). Doesn't get much better than that, kids.

Anyway, here are a few pics and stories from my 3-day, 4-night nerdoholics anonymous meeting in Chicago weekend before last.

First Things First

Ever the gentleman artist, I generally make a B line for David Mack upon arrival in Chicago. I know him predominantly from his work on Daredevil, for which he created my third favorite character in the Marvel Universe (next to Nick Fury and Wolverine): Echo, Daredevil's deaf counterpart who can perfectly replicate any physical movement she witnesses. In addition to being a helluva nice guy, Mack does brush sketches that are simply amazing for how quickly he finishes them. He did Daredevil for me in '06, Echo in '07, and--this year--a certain mutant who's the best there is at what he does.



Hooked on Speed
Speaking of sketches, after getting that sketch I posted in an earlier entry, I've decided that I'm going to get a collection of sketches of Paul Crocker from all of the artists who've drawn him inQueen & Country. This time, I added one by Carla Speed McNeil.

McNeil has more of a cartoonish style (and that's not a pejorative, kids), which I found worked exceptionally well on her story arc on Q&C (much like Steve Rolston's work on the book). She's captured Crocker here in a very...Crockery way.

Since last year, I've found a shiny new way to piss away my hard-earned, hardly-kept dollars: original art. Fortunately for me, I can't go bug-fuck mad with this pursuit, as I'd find starvation a might troublesome. Still, when I was talking with McNeil and paging through her art, I came across a piece that just called out to me, telling me I couldn't leave without it.

Finder, McNeil's creator-owned book about an Aboriginal detective named Jaeger, has always held an allure for me ever since I read about it in Warren Ellis's brilliant manifesto Come in Alone. I'd heard she was going to be in Chicago, and since I like buying books right from the creators (as many of us like to with CDs at concerts...when we can hold out that long), I wanted to wait to buy the first volume from her. I knew I'd love the book the minute I saw this piece, which is Page #19 of Issue #38.
I don't know what it is with me and embittered, nicotine-addicted Brits (although to be accurate, Jaeger is Australian).
Blowing My Praise Wad
And speaking of embittered, nicotine-addicted Brits, I wrote about meeting Warren Ellis in an earlier post. Folks, I can't stress enough how much he's one of my all-time heroes of comic storytelling (storytelling in any medium, for that matter). Like him or loathe him, it's impossible to deny that a) he's one of the hardest working guys in the business, b) he's got a ceaselessly innovative approach to his work, and c) he's always had a concrete vision for comics as a medium. All that being said, I got to meet another one of those storytelling heroes who's equally as important to me:

Greg Rucka: writer of several great Batman books (including No Man's Land, Death and the Maidens, and the superhero-light/street-crime-heavy Gotham Central), the single-best run on Wonder Woman in history, and my favorite comic series of all time...say it with me...Queen & Country.

As I told Rucka when we talked, Geoff Johns may have gotten me back in, but Rucka's responsible for keeping me in the world of comics. A once-and-future novelist, Rucka made a name for himself with his Atticus Kodiak mystery series (the first of which is entitled Keeper). I'm saving this series for a rainy day; it does me good to have a great mystery series waiting in the wings.

He made his comics debut with a little gem called Whiteout, a murder mystery set in Antarctica. It's soon to be a film, but trust me, the book will be more satisfying in just about every imaginable way.

With Q&C, he does everything right. His pacing is beyond compare. His plotting seems politically prescient (apologies for the alliteration). And his characters all speak with such different voices. My friend Brandon and I often talk about how well writers are able to accomplish this last skill.  I see writers like Geoff Johns, Gail Simone, and Grant Morrison as adepts in endowing their characters with distinctive voices.

They're adepts. Rucka's the master.

After all, read any issue of Q&C. (I've given it to several of you as gifts, so hopefully you have by now.) Sure you'll get your requisite amounts of gunfire, explosions, and all kinds of suspenseful tradecraft, but the best scenes are those when it's two or three characters in Crocker's office, just having a conversation.

Of course, it helps that such a spectacular writer is abetted by fantastic artists. And that I immediately fell in love with the main character, Tara Chace.
Imagine James Bond played by Katee Sackhoff.

Additionally, Rucka never dumbs his stuff down. I've only ever found one flaw in the book, which he corrected eventually. One of the characters is known as the MCO: the Mission Control Officer. Yet, there are some scenes where she answers the phone, "MCO Officer," which is like saying ATM machine.

I was tempted to call him on this error, but instead we talked about what self-indulgent crap Frank Miller's film of The Spirit looks like. They were playing the trailer on loop at the DC Booth, and Rucka and I both agreed that the only good thing about that pile of shit was the music it's set to: Ennio Morricone's score for The Untouchables.

Last thing on Rucka: I also wish he'd take a stab at writing Bond, as he himself has admitted he'd like to do. I'd need new pants by the end of that book.
Just Sketchy Enough

I snagged quite a few sketches, which gets increasingly difficult with each passing year (I don't like paying for them, you see). Rule for sketches: don't make it too hard for the artists. Best case scenario: ask them to draw someone they are able to, but may not draw often. It makes it fun for them, and usually you can get a more obscure character that you really like. Like Plastic Man (from Ethan Van Sciver), Robin (from Freddie Williams II), or Renee Montoya as the faceless crusader, The Question.

Lucky for me, Jim Calafiore was there to supply me with a sketch of her. He's starting out here, faux-cursing me for making him draw a fedora.

And this is what I ended up with:

There's something endearing I find about quick, unfinished sketches like this. I'm floored every time I watch an artist drawing one for me. It may not look like much, but stuff like this just grins me up. Incidentally, you comics fans out there should check out Calafiore's work. For my money, he's the best of the new artistic blood at DC (I'm not counting Van Sciver; he's been there for a little while).
100 Bullets...Less 90

Alright, I've spent about all the time on this I can. I'll finish up with quickies:

• Bendis vs. Johns: seeing grown men wrestle each other to the ground is always comedy gold.
• Wallet Evacuation: Four words I seldom utter...I stayed within budget.
• Batman: Gotham Knight premiere: a really uneven film, and reason for me to hate fan audiences (you don't need to verbally react to everything that happens, you dicks).
• Food: I actually ate healthy food all weekend. Usually I dine on substances that famished hogs would effeminately shoo away, so this was a fucking milestone for me.
• Gail Simone: one of those people who's every bit as cool as you think she's going to be.
• Brian Azzarello: Um, I don't quite know how to say this. I ran into Brian Azzarello (writer of 100 Bullets and a guy you wouldn't want to meet in a dark alley) in the men's room. Fucking weird to notice a writer that you really like walk in the privy, while you're taking a piss four urinals away.
• Costumes: Nothing like sweaty polyester to keep the sane at arms' length, though I have to give that one guy props for dressing as Granny Goodness. Takes balls, kids.
• Steve Bryant: Ran into my favorite indie artist (Athena Voltaire, anyone?) and had a good long chat with him; he told me that my Shadow sketch is going into the next sketchbook. Awe-some.
• Brian Michael Bendis: Even cooler than he is bald.
• Dan DiDio: You may think he's a schmuck, but I don't think kinder, more eloquent words were spoken about Michael Turner's untimely death than the ones DiDio uttered before the DC Nation panel that Saturday morning. Nice one, Dan. And Michael Turner...another one gone way too early, dammit.

I'm sure there's more I could put down, but I think that's enough for tonight. This one's been a long time coming, and I'm already exhausted from my week.
That being said, I'll try to make my next post comics-free. The only possible exception: a review of The Dark Knight. T-Minus 48 hours and counting.
Oh, and my one disappointment for this year's con? The fact that I didn't get to play pool on the showroom floor...

For the two of you to whom I've not told this story from the 2007 con, you can read about it here: http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&friendID=85074902&blogID=299179945&Mytoken=A410962C-453E-4D34-8E9EF62C9B8AF2375586147

Thanks for indulging me, the wordy and the nerdy. At least I'm not as self-indulgent as Frank Miller.