A World Without Superheroes

SECRET ACRES LOVES AN ADVENTURE, so we were glad to participate in King Con for the first time this past weekend. Undeterred by the marathon or the moldy space, we set up our table up and sold our wares. The luckiest part of the deal was being allowed to sit next to the entertaining (and somewhat high energy) duo of comics veterans, Fred Chao and Jamie Tanner. The unluckiest part of the deal was that we spent all of Sunday looking at a sea of glossy lady torsos at the table across from us. All day Sunday. Seriously. This was especially odd when, during the oddly titled panel Hips, Lips and Pencil Tips: The Sexual Female as Feminist Focal Point, we were mesmerized by the boobs above.

Luckily, our pal and talented Secret Artist, John Brodowski, had come down from Vermont to sit with us, sign books and keep things lively. Take a gander at the name tag he made for Leon below.

Some general notes from King Con:

– Sales were reasonable on Saturday, almost brisk! It was the strangest sales sheet we have ever seen. The sheet has our titles in a column on the left and then little check boxes trailing off to the right where we make a mark for each copy sold. Normally, there are a half dozen things that each show freaks out about, so the checks in the little boxes move left to right. Not this show. The checks moved up and down, leaving the sheet looking like some kid’s who ran out of time on the SATs and marked everything C. We sold a couple of everything, as if the people at the show checked to see what everyone else bought and bought something else. This never happens.

– Sunday sales were barely there. It could have been the marathon or it could have been how things roll in the fancier sections of Brooklyn on Sundays, but that show was near-death until an odd burst of sales to other folks on the floor at the waning hours. But really, you could have shut down an hour earlier; half the tables had packed up by then.

– It was one of the most diverse crowds we’ve seen at a show. Usually we get a hundred guys with beards wearing plaid, i.e. our gang. King Con was occasionally hip, occasionally dorky, but always interesting. Plus: one elf and one blue cat. And a pug dressed up as Wonder Woman (for real, check out Jamie Tanner’s photo here). On Saturday, grumpy, beautiful genius Brooklyn author, Zadie Smith bought an entire run of Sean Ford‘s Only Skin from us. She has great taste, which makes it almost unfair, since she’s got everything else, too.

– The bathrooms were a horrorshow. Everytime the staff of the Lyceum tried to sell us raffle tickets to support their roof garden, we wanted to counter that the funds might be better suited to creating restrooms for humans. Co-ed is not that huge a deal. Privacy and cleanliness are. As for those raffle tickets, they were announced every thirty seconds at ear-splitting volume. Please note that microphones make you loud; screaming into them makes you annoying as shit, unless you’re Future of the Left.

– We saw some new faces! The show was small and friendly enough that we had many more one-on-one interactions with people than usual. Anthony Stock and Peter Quach‘s comics were new to us, at least, and not bad at all. The real star of the show was Morgan Pielli, an old pal killing it with Indestructible Universe. And, for the last time, stop giving us comics at cons, please. We have no idea what’s a submission, and what’s our haul and that’s too bad for you.

– Other bloggers have covered some of the operational challenges and confusion around the Convention this year, so we’ll skip any frustrations we had with the programming or marketing of the event – but this: Make sure the convention site has a street address.

The bottom line is that we’ll likely return next year, but if it takes place on marathon weekend, we’re not sure about that second day. We were both tickled and miffed that Heidi MacDonald called us the biggest “publishers” there (yes, she used quotes), so, any other local publishers, please, come join us. About those boobs above, our Acres wagon had a hell of a time making it up and down the stairs of the Lyceum, eventually busting a wheel and an axle. When all seemed lost, the woman drawing in front of us and sitting behind all those boobs, and there were thousands of boobs, ran over and picked up a hundred pounds of our gear in one hand and walked the only remaining Acre guy to the curb. A world without superheroes, our ass.

Speaking of Brooklyn comics shows, we are mere weeks away from our favorite show of the year, Brooklyn Comics and Graphics Fest. This year, the guest list is the most powerful and talented cartoonists in the universe. We’re thrilled to be able to participate. And to make matters even more exciting, we’ll be debuting Edie Fake‘s graphic novel, Gaylord Phoenix. If all you’ve seen of the series are the first five mini-comics, prepare to be overwhelmed by the spectacle of the full graphic novel. It will give you brain damage. Edie will be at the table with us, signing his book and glad-handing. It’s our last show of the year and a real sweet way to end our third year publishing comics. We’re three! We can wipe our own asses!

If anyone was annoyed that we didn’t have those limited edition Theo Ellsworth prints at the show, well, we’re starting to run low. The Emporium is always open; you may want to snag one as a holiday gift before they are gone. We’ve got the Natural World 4 – and we’ll have Gaylord Phoenix available for preorder in a week, and books will ship out right after Thanksgiving. Keep warm, eat loads of carbs and come see us December 4th in Williamsburg. We”ll be back to remind you in a bit.

Your pals,

Leon and Barry

---