Fanboy Steve and I are here at Comic-Con in San Diego for our fourth consecutive year.
We’re shoulder to shoulder with 125,000 comic book, sci-fi, movie, and anime misfits. Many are dressed like Captain America and Green Lantern and Cthulhu and even (big sigh) Supergirl.
There are hundreds of events. There are ongoing film festivals. There’s an enormous pavilion set aside for nothing but getting celebrity autographs.
But the really big deal at Comic-Con is the Exhibit Hall — 460,000 square feet of people promoting, giving away, and selling craploads of stuff.
You can go home with your trunk filled with free swag — posters, t-shirts, graphic novels — most of which you’ll probably unload at yard sales next spring.
A lot of that exhibit space, of course, is taken up by Warners, Marvel Comics, Fox, Dark Horse, all the biggies. But surprisingly, most of it’s used by little guys like us, trying to make money doing something we love.
There are comic book illustrators here with their portfolios. There are independent publishers. There are sellers of toys, gadgets, and old comic books. There’s a small booth I never miss visiting that’s dedicated to nothing but doodads associated with the stories of H. P. Lovecraft.
When I was a kid, Dad wondered why I’d waste time reading and collecting superhero comics. Mom begged me to clear out my tottering stacks of Tarzan and Doc Savage paperbacks.
But at Comic-Con, you’ll find thousands of folks who never really “grew up.” Instead, they found ways to build businesses out of their childhood passions.
It’s inspiring, really.
Ignore the naysayers. Charge at your dreams, and you can find ways to earn a living from them.
Gotta run. Steve just spotted Bruce Campbell.