You may have noticed I haven’t been around that much lately. This is part of the reason.
We don’t miss the crowds at the San Diego Comic-Con, especially since everything we care about ends up on YouTube within 48 hours. But we miss the Mission Beach barbecues… and the INCREDIBLY NERDY arguments around the campfire.
What does the audience owe the artist? And what does the artist owe them?
Today in action films, hand-to-hand is all about martial arts. But once upon a time… it was just brawlin’.
That’s what Julie called it. “Off to the Puyallup Batcave!” she had said as we were getting into the car.
But most folks know it as the Washington Summer Con at the Puyallup Fairgrounds. And damn was it FUN. One of the best ones we’ve been to.
Thinking about Jim’s column about generations and defining events, and measuring my own life experience against it, I realized that almost all of my memories that I think of as ‘defining events’ are about books, comics, and most especially, book STORES. There was one bookstore in particular… sadly, long gone now, but I’ve never forgotten it.
In which I achieve a couple of minor bookscouting victories.