Comic-Con
...was pretty great. I know I should post a bunch of stuff about it, but I actually feel a bit tired, fatigued. What can I say? I saw a lot of people, costumes, buxom anime vixens, Hollywood folks, video game promotions, authors, oh, and a few comics. All the stuff you'd expect. I realized now that I didn't even take any pictures. Sorry about that. (Mel Odom was kind enough to send the one below.)
Highlights? Umm...
The panel with Bob Salvatore (very friendly), Harry Turtledove (great wry sense of humor), Mel Odom (generous and funny), David Keck (continuous humor machine) and Peter David (who apparently lost enough weight recently to constitute another humor being). Jacqueline Carey didn't show (and when this was announced a troop of readers jumped ship).
(That's Mel in the front, followed by Dave Keck, myself, Bob Salvatore and Harry Turtledove up top.)
My signing-hour giving away Acacia: The War with the Mein samplers. That was fun. The Bantam/Del Rey handlers managed to rope in a continuous line for the entire hour. Sign, smile, sign. Remember humor. Smile again. Sign, sign... At the end of it I felt like my face was frozen in demented greeting ala the Joker. Good stuff, though.
People gazing. Yep. That was good fun. Some folks take the costume thing very seriously.
And there was my Hollywood taster evening. Hooked up with a producer (who I won't name and whom I know for reasons I can't yet divulge) and got into the 300 DVD launch/Blade Runner Director's cut event. Crazy stuff. They booked an entire stadium for the event and showed 300 amidst lots of fan fare. I, luckily, got a little badge that meant I could sojourn in the VIP area. That basically means free drinks, lots of torch-like things, muscle-bound guys in Spartan gear and exotic dancers writhing atop podiums to some sinuous rhythms. Very interesting.
Had an absurdly expensive dinner (by my standards) and shared the table with Sean Young (looking very good and still, well, freakishly young). I do mean "shared the table". We didn't talk or anything because I caught on quick that there was an invisible barrier that separated the two halves of the table. It could've hurt me if I tried to breach it.
Then spent the later hours of the evening at a William Morris (the talent agency) rooftop party. More music and torches. More free drinks. Contingents of shockingly young studio execs (and frighteningly old ones, also, for that matter) amidst small flocks of hot chicks.
I must admit that everyone I met that evening seemed to actually have made a movie or written a screenplay or dated Winona Ryder or something equally distinguished. Overall it seemed pretty strange stuff, punctuated by a lot of standing in lines that are set apart by a rather complicated caste system. I was temporarily one of the chosen, yes, but still I felt the stares of sad folks in the plebeian lines with a certain amount of empathy. (There but for the grace of my producer friend go I - that sort of thing.) Very interesting.
Anyway, I'm home now and working on returning to normal. I'm actually off to buy a bread machine. That should aid the return to domesticity.
Highlights? Umm...
The panel with Bob Salvatore (very friendly), Harry Turtledove (great wry sense of humor), Mel Odom (generous and funny), David Keck (continuous humor machine) and Peter David (who apparently lost enough weight recently to constitute another humor being). Jacqueline Carey didn't show (and when this was announced a troop of readers jumped ship).
(That's Mel in the front, followed by Dave Keck, myself, Bob Salvatore and Harry Turtledove up top.)My signing-hour giving away Acacia: The War with the Mein samplers. That was fun. The Bantam/Del Rey handlers managed to rope in a continuous line for the entire hour. Sign, smile, sign. Remember humor. Smile again. Sign, sign... At the end of it I felt like my face was frozen in demented greeting ala the Joker. Good stuff, though.
People gazing. Yep. That was good fun. Some folks take the costume thing very seriously.
And there was my Hollywood taster evening. Hooked up with a producer (who I won't name and whom I know for reasons I can't yet divulge) and got into the 300 DVD launch/Blade Runner Director's cut event. Crazy stuff. They booked an entire stadium for the event and showed 300 amidst lots of fan fare. I, luckily, got a little badge that meant I could sojourn in the VIP area. That basically means free drinks, lots of torch-like things, muscle-bound guys in Spartan gear and exotic dancers writhing atop podiums to some sinuous rhythms. Very interesting.
Had an absurdly expensive dinner (by my standards) and shared the table with Sean Young (looking very good and still, well, freakishly young). I do mean "shared the table". We didn't talk or anything because I caught on quick that there was an invisible barrier that separated the two halves of the table. It could've hurt me if I tried to breach it.
Then spent the later hours of the evening at a William Morris (the talent agency) rooftop party. More music and torches. More free drinks. Contingents of shockingly young studio execs (and frighteningly old ones, also, for that matter) amidst small flocks of hot chicks.
I must admit that everyone I met that evening seemed to actually have made a movie or written a screenplay or dated Winona Ryder or something equally distinguished. Overall it seemed pretty strange stuff, punctuated by a lot of standing in lines that are set apart by a rather complicated caste system. I was temporarily one of the chosen, yes, but still I felt the stares of sad folks in the plebeian lines with a certain amount of empathy. (There but for the grace of my producer friend go I - that sort of thing.) Very interesting.
Anyway, I'm home now and working on returning to normal. I'm actually off to buy a bread machine. That should aid the return to domesticity.
Labels: Appearances, Comic-Con
posted by David Anthony Durham at
1:57 PM
2 Comments:
A bread machine? Fantastic! We hardly use ours, but when we do, the bread disappears within the day. There's something about the smell of fresh bread....
Invisible caste barrier? Well that sucks. I'd like to see how things change over the next year and a bit, whether everyone treats you the same or not.
Hi John,
Perhaps "caste" is too strong a word in that it's hard to break out of a caste. In this Hollywood scene that's not the case. There are clearly many different rankings of hotness, but you can change your status in a second if the right person gives you the nod.
As far as seeing "how things change over the next year and a bit, whether everyone treats you the same or not" that's a bit complicated. As to the night in question, I was treated very well. There's a reason for that that I can't talk about, but rest assured I was treated well. So, by that account... I rather hope they do keep treating me that way.
And, damnit, couldn't find a bread machine! Apparently they only sell them in Fresno for Christmas. Seems on 108 degree days most people just don't fancy baking anything. We'll have to order one.
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