So, the other day I was talking to some folks who mentioned they didn’t particularly want to go to any comic conventions (I’m being deliberately vague here). For the life of me, I can’t understand why:
On Wednesday, the San Diego International Comic Con starts. Expect announcements of projects, exclusives, signing and deals all over the place. Photos of booth babes, of pissing stormtroopers, of parties and of people falling off the CBR boat. A great time for comics and its associated hanger on industries like film, games, toys and little beany hats.
Of course conventions do bring out the worst in people. The heady mix of success, drink, drugs and Hollywood types has seen senior members of various companies risk their marriages on a spin of the dice with an employee and/or spouse of a freelancer (with heavy repercussions meted out to any who speak out of turn). And as some marriages fail or separate, with people finding themselves back “in the game” suddenly it’s a whole new world. A chance for geeks and those in administrative positions in the comic industry to behave like coke-addled rock stars.
Conversely, it’s also chance for the comic starfuckers to emerge, fans to shag their way round the pro circuit and at one recent San Diego one was responsible for a minor STD outbreak. One person’s hot tub hijinks is another’s personal trauma, one person’s near-nude booth babe becomes a wardrobe malfunction and a chase through the Hyatt hotel at 2 in the morning. When I was first at San Diego in 1997, I had sexual advances made towards me eleven times in four days. Mostly by women. Since then it’s got a whole lot worse.
My advice? Stay safe, if you’re fucking around. And if you’re married don’t fuck around. For all that San Diego is large, the industry is tiny and it all has a horrible act of getting back to you. Or the spouse of the person you’re fucking. And then suddenly there are people packing boxes and calling lawyers, company allegations of sexual impropriety and late books getting even later.
No I’m not going.
LOL! All that’s missing is an on-stage terror/porn act. It sounds like by staying sober and carrying a digital camera, you could ruin careers - or blackmail yourself some good deals for any comic business you might be starting up.