4 posts tagged “comiccon 2006”
We sat next to each other on the plane, both girls of about the same age, but both very different. She held a few fashion magazines in her hands, and tucked within them was a copy of The Devil Wears Prada. I've always disliked people like that--those book-readers who only pick up a paperback when some B-rate movie by the same name comes out.
The seatbelt light came on and I strapped in and pulled out my copy of Murakami's The Elephant Vanishes, while she pages through her magazines. Can she read? She seems to only be looking at the images. I shake my head, then turn my eyes back to my reading. After a weekend in San Diego, I'm feeling very much like one of the characters he writes. All of them are lost in this perpetual mist, reaching out for something to hold on to.
And most of them don't find it.
The airplane starts to move; slowly, at first, as it positions itself on the runway, then faster. Soon, we're up in the air, traveling through large, fluffy cumulus.
I watch for a minute, then turn back to my book.
The story I'm reading is about a 28-year old bachelor, who does not think he'll ever get married. I feel the same way, sometimes. Many of my friends say after their difficult breakups, "I'll never marry" or "I'll never date again", then next week, are back in the water.
No, not me. I've had nearly 22 years of love, and I've had the worst part of it. A father whose love was more often shown through a fist than a hug; a boyfriend who I supported and whose job was only to pick me up (and he rarely did that). If getting married means being as miserable as my friends, I'd rather be single forever.
I didn't have "real" friends until I became a college student. I was a bit of an eccentric, a little weird. At my all-girl school, there were very few "weird" people, and when I transfered to public school my senior year after my parents divorced, all the "weird" people had already formed their cliques.
During those times, books were my only friends. They still can be.
I frown down at my book and continue to read. There's something inherently OFF in the translation of the book; it's not that the translation is poor or that it's difficult to understand. There's just something in it that distinguishes it as a translated work. I narrow my eyes and try to locate what phrase, what word gives it away when the stewardess noisily hustles through the aisle with her cart.
Large-lipped and curly-haired, she asks, "What do you want to drink, dear?"
"A coke, please." I turn my eyes back to my book, and when I hear the clatter of ice gathering in a plastic cup, I reach out for the beverage, my gaze never leaving the page.
"Thank you." I open my can, pour the drink into the plastic cup the stewardess provided, and take a long swig as I continue to read. In "The Dancing Dwarf", a man falls in love almost instantaneously with a woman just because of her looks; and they say women fall in love easily! In my hierarchy of needs, good looks in a man are not of the same priori order as intelligence or personality.
My personal guidelines prohibit me from falling in love at first sight.
When I was younger, I fell in love very easily; I felt as though I had to have a boyfriend, that I couldn't be complete without one. Now, it's difficult for me to fall in love--and when I do fall in love, it's generally with book characters or dead authors.
I glance over at the girl's magazine. She's still looking at pictures. There's an article on movies about sex. A photograph of Y Tu Mama Tabien hangs in the upper right-hand corner. I sigh and fold my book. Y Tu was much more than a movie about sex; it was a criticism of the government of Mexico, a coming-of-age story, a psychology study. I would hardly label the movie as a story about sex, though sex did play a prominent part.
I push the book aside and start working on my own, scribbling a few random notes on the back of a receipt. I'm still having problems with my novel. Usually, for me, the character comes first, then the story. But now, I've got this brilliant idea for a beautiful story, but no characters that really fit within it.
One of the first things I did was scribble down a few messages I want to be sure to include in my story. "The pen is mightier than the sword," I scribble in pencil. I frown, poise my pen, and jot down, "Breaking free of predetermined roles." Not a message, I also write, "I want a strong, manipulative female character who doesn't use her body to get what she wants."
No more receipt paper. I tuck the slip into my book and stare out the airplane window for a long time. It's nighttime now, and clouds blot out the sky. On the earth below, I see thousands of bright lights, sparkling like stars.
When I was younger, I wondered what aliens would think about us, as a species. Countries apart, we're very different people, living in very different environments. Even the girl next to me is a completely different person from me. I disagree with the opinions in newspapers and magazines. In other countries, people speak and write very different languages. We have different cultures, different opinions, different religions, but thousands of miles away from these shimmering lights, people are fighting a war over these differences.
Would those aliens really think that those differences were really worth the price?
I sigh, and swig down the rest of my soda. Overhead, a crackling speaker tells us we'll be landing shortly. I glance around at the people around me as we descend upon Dallas. Will I ever see these people again? Will I recognize them if I do? What will happen to them tonight? Tomorrow? The day after that? I have no answers, only a vivid imagination that paints a life for each and every one of them. Looking at them, I'm sure at least one of my mental visuals has to be correct.
Tomorrow, I will be a day closer to 22. Tomorrow, I will call my friends and let them know I'm safe back home in New Orleans. Tomorrow, I will eat Chinese with my cousin and gossip about family members and analyze comic books.
But what after that?
The stewardess takes my soda and tosses it in her garbage bag. I murmur thanks and stare back down at my book in my lap.
Even despite the differences between the author and I--despite the fact we live half a world apart, speak different languages, live different lives, and are entirely different genders--we understand each other. I understand what he's trying to say through his stories without even knowing him; he understands how I feel without even knowing me.
Maybe what the world needs isn't assimilation; maybe we just need communication. But those who are different don't talk to one another. In high school, the popular students only asked me for my homework, or a synopsis of the book we were supposed to read for English class. My father and I very often don't talk to one another unless we need something from the other. I haven't said a word to the girl sitting me, though we've sat side-by-side for nearly three hours.
We land, and the seatbelt light goes off. People scramble to collect their bags. I shove my copy of The Elephant Vanishes into the back pocket of my oversized purse as the girl next to me gathers her magazines.
"Do you have another flight?" I ask, tugging my booksack out of the overhead compartment.
"Yes." She meticulously places her magazines and book into her bag.
"Have a safe trip."
I disappear into the crowd of people making a bee-line for the exit. One more flight and I'll be home.
I'll blog about Friday sometime later tonight, but I wanted to post about one of the coolest freebies I had a pleasure of receiving. The freebie?
Perfectly normal looking mints, correct? Well, not quite...
Now, if only I was able to create these in-play. I'd make a fortune off of them!
There's just one thing I forgot to mention about San Diego; there's this perpetual breeze that cools you--it's absolutely fantastic. If you keep out of the hot beams of the sun, it feels positively temperate. I wish I could transpose this weather down on New Orleans; with our humidity and heat, we could use an ocean breeze.
ComicCon Thursday was even more crowded than Wednesday; I stopped by a Ceserean eatery for breakfast, then headed over to the con to catch the Writing for the Computer Industry Panel. I was not really interested in writing for the computer industry; I was more interested in getting Chris Avellone to sign my copy of KoToR II.
But that changed by the end of the panel. As the panelists continued to speak, I started to think about how I could use the media to my
advantage as a writer. There are a lot of visual metaphors I'd want to use in an art media, like a comic or an animation program; in the same way, in a computer game--particularly a roleplaying game--I could choose several different scenarios the player can take, and ultimately write half a dozen stories in just one game.
It would be hard work, but I think it would be satisfying; I have a tendency to grow very attached to video game characters; because I have fought alongside them for so long, I grow attached to them. When you're around someone as much as you have to be in a video game, it's hard not to be.
Neal Harrford recommended the book to the left for those of you computer writer hopefuls; it's entitled Swords & Circuitry--which just happened to be written by Neal himself. I'll definitely order this one once I get back home, if only to get a good look into the industry for my own curiousity's sake.
Other than that, most of my day was spent wandering around the con floor. I got my book, An Alphabet of Manliness, signed by Maddox himself, and met up with the Mega 64 guys who were every bit as interesting as I expected them to be. They were so amusing, in fact, that I bought one of their DVD for myself--though I only intended to purchase one for a friend.
There were even more costumers on Thursday than there were on Wednesday, and I was amused to find a couple dressed like the old-school early 90s version of the X-Men characters Jubilee and Jean Grey (no Gambit, unfortunately).
There was also a fantastic Aayla Secura cosplayer, and in fact, there were a number of really amazing cosplayers from the Star Wars series--much to my amusement.
But stormtroopers weren't the only ones roaming about; there were some ghostbusters, as well--and a few people dressed as One Piece's Luffy, much to my
At one point, I went to Horton Plaza to grab lunch, and through luck, managed to entirely miss the Civil War panel I planned on visiting.
Fortunately, there were a number of things to do to occupy my time while I was wandering around the con floor by myself.
...like the Snakes on the Plane booth, which included a tiny manual explaining what to do if you're ever stuck on a plane.
Or the Wizards of the Coast booth, which featured a number of incredibly fun games. I have neverThere was also the Labyrnith booth, which featured a large, grisly tree; each knot of the tree was oozing with slime, and if you reached inside the knot, you were able to retrieve a key, which you put onto a chain; apparently, if one of the Labyrnith staff caught you wearing the key around your neck, you'd win a prize, but unfortunately, I haven't heard of any winners yet.
There was also the Nickelodeon booth, which was doing an Avatar scavenger hunt for a ComicCon exclusive mouse pad; though I've only watched a handful of the episodes, I wanted to get it for a friend who loves the show a great deal. They also gave out slap-bands--the small, plastic bands that snap over your wrist and were banned from schools when I was still in elementary-level courses.
Eventually, I headed out to a local sports bar to grab dinner; it was a tad on the expensive side, but otherwise, it was actually pretty good. Finding a place to eat that isn't crowded after the exhibit hall closes is quite a feat--one that I hope to never repeat.
I'll post on Friday later tonight or tomorrow.
I meant to make this update last night, but after all the air travel and the walking I did throughout San Diego, I was absolutely, positively exhausted. I'll make a post about ComicCon Thursday sometime later tonight or tomorrow.
I got in San Diego at around two o'clock and checked in to my hotel at around three; I'm staying at the Westgate hotel, pictured to the right. I can easily say that this is the fanciest hotel I've ever had the pleasure of staying at. The rooms are cleaned twice a day, and there's even a harp-player that gets her music on during high tea. The place is incredibly classy, and I'm incredibly lucky to be here.
ComicCon was much larger than I expected; I had been to many conventions in my day, but none have quite prepared me for a con of this magnitude. I spent most of my evening wandering the exhibit hall, scouting out the various shops and products in the area. I also got a number of "freebies", including posters, pamphlets, bookmarks, and books; I've definitely got my reading material for the flight back home covered.
I also did some people-watching; few things are as interesting as watching other people (especially science fiction and fantasy fans) act out in an enviornment that they are comfortable in; nerds or geeks who normally wouldn't have the courage to interact in a social enviornment are suddenly very and confident; the metamorphasis is absolutely astounding.
But studying human interaction wasn't the only thing I did on the con floor; there were quite a number of people in costumes, like the young jedi and Darth Vader pictured on the left. Also, there were various mascots running around the convention, including Snoopy, who is pictured below. I love looking at people in costumes almost as much as I love making them, and I was a little disappointed that I didn't get to finish off my jedi costume before I hit the San Diego con scene.
Unfortunately, while wandering around the con floor, I managed to lose my badge, and for awhile, I was afraid I was going to have to dish out another fifty-something dollars to get back into the convention the next day; no one had turned in my badge and unfortunately, it looked as though no one was going to turn it in. Fortunately, Prince Charming came to the rescue and manage to sweet-talk one of the con people into printing me out a new badge. Problem averted!
By the time I left the con floor, I was positively exhausted; I don't think that I ever fell asleep as fast as I did last night.
More on ComicCon Thursday later tonight or tomorrow.
