{"id":1908,"date":"2018-08-21T09:34:00","date_gmt":"2018-08-21T16:34:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.comic-con.org\/toucan\/?p=1908"},"modified":"2023-12-21T09:37:40","modified_gmt":"2023-12-21T17:37:40","slug":"devourer-of-words-056-revisiting-comic-con","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.comic-con.org\/toucan\/devourer-of-words-056-revisiting-comic-con\/","title":{"rendered":"Devourer of Words 056: Revisiting Comic-Con"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\n
\n
\n

MARC BERNARDIN’S DEVOURER OF WORDS<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Devourer of Words 056: Revisiting Comic-Con<\/h1>\n\n\n
Marc Bernardin<\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n
\"Toucan<\/figure><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
\n
\n

This past Comic-Con was my 18th, by my count. (Which could be off because math is not a \u201cstrength\u201d of mine.) I first attended as a journalist, working for Entertainment Weekly<\/em>, after I convinced my bosses that in the wake of Spider-Man<\/em>, maybe we should start covering comics in a real way. I had heard of Comic-Con, of course. Every fan had. Growing up in New York, it was, literally, a country away. So I didn\u2019t make my way until a job made it happen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I barely knew anyone in comics. I knew names on mastheads, publishers on covers\u2014and a couple of colleagues from my days working at Starlog <\/em>magazine had ended up as editors at DC Comics\u2014but it was a whole new world to me. And I fell in love with it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Most of the times I attended Comic-Con were as a member of the press. If it wasn\u2019t representing EW<\/em>, it was io9<\/em>, or The Hollywood Reporter<\/em>, or Playboy<\/em>, or The Los Angeles Times<\/em>. Occasionally, I was also there as a comic book writer, which I started doing on the side to scratch the itch I\u2019d always felt. I\u2019d squeeze in a signing or two between my duties covering panels or conducting interviews with the increasingly glittery TV or movie stars who started hitting San Diego as the con began growing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019ve seen almost every angle of Comic-Con. I\u2019ve been on panels where more people were on the dais and I\u2019ve moderated panels in a packed Hall H. I\u2019ve hit the shiniest poolside parties and I\u2019ve eaten a convention center hot dog while sitting on the floor of an empty corridor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But this year was wholly, profoundly different. This year, I was there as a television writer. Now, to be fair, I was also a TV writer when I went in 2011, while I was on the writing staff of Alphas<\/em>. But SYFY didn\u2019t build a block-long haunted house or bury a Lincoln Town Car in a fountain in support of Alphas<\/em>. But Hulu did precisely that to help promote Castle Rock<\/em>. That show is the single largest thing I\u2019ve ever been involved in. Hulu screened the pilot episode during the Castle Rock <\/em>panel, which was held in a standing-room-only Ballroom 20. I heard the gasps and cheers from backstage, where I was standing with actors Sissy Spacek, Bill Skarsgard, Melanie Lynskey, and Jane Levy, and showrunners Dusty Thomason and Sam Shaw. Then I walked out onto the stage to moderate the panel for the TV show I helped write.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSurreal\u201d was my Comic-Con 2018 watchword.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I was also an invited guest of the convention, another first. As part of my invited guest status, I was informed that I would get a Spotlight panel\u2014in which there would be a ballroom, a microphone, a stage, and a buncha chairs, all in anticipation of people showing up to a panel that was just about Me. I asked the organizers if they were sure. They said yes. I asked my friend Evan Narcisse if he\u2019d moderate the Spotlight panel. He said yes. He\u2019s a journalist, so knows his way around a question. He\u2019s also been a friend for years. So, comfort zone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019d heard an anecdote about speaking engagements like this. An author was holding a book reading. Before getting to the store, he stopped at an ATM and withdrew $20. If, when he got to the signing, there were enough people present that he could buy them all a drink with that $20, then that\u2019s what they\u2019d go do. If there were too many people for that to work, they\u2019d stay and get on with it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When I got to the room in the San Diego Convention Center where my Spotlight panel was held, there were more people than I could\u2019ve bought drinks for. Which was far more than I expected. I took my seat, next to Evan, as Gary Sassaman\u2014who edits this here blog, and is SDCC\u2019s director of print and digital media\u2014took the podium and started talking. He said that in recognition for contributions to the comic book arts, as a journalist and as a comic book writer, I was one of 2018\u2019s Inkpot Award winners. And there was a trophy and everything.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No one told me this was happening. Nor did anyone tell me that Evan was going to then deliver an intro that would reduce me to tears.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019ve never had a Comic-Con like this. I\u2019m sure other people have had a barrage of wonderful come at them in such rapid succession, but I never have. And if it never happens again, that\u2019s okay. Because at least it happened once.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And in case you want to know why both Evan and myself were crying like babies on that stage, sharing a public moment that was very much about the texture of our private relationship,\u00a0you can click here<\/a>\u00a0for Evan\u2019s notes for his intro, which he put on Twitter after the event.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I can\u2019t read them or I\u2019ll start crying again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n\n\n\n

Marc Bernardin\u2019s Devourer of Words appears the third Tuesday of every month here on Toucan!<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

\n

Written by<\/p>\n\n\n

Marc Bernardin<\/div>\n\n\n

Published<\/p>\n\n\n