This is Part 7 and it follows Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 and Part 6. There will be no Part 8, at least for now.
One of the most-asked questions of my life — in person and via e-mail — is why at Comic-Con each year, I host or appear on so many panels. This past con, the number was 14 and no, that's not my record. In 2008, I did 17. Some folks think that's nuts and, of course, they're right. It is absolutely nuts. But the way I see it is that if you can't be nuts at Comic-Con, where can you be nuts?
The thing is: I like being at Comic-Con and I don't know what else I'd do with myself there if I didn't have some double-digit number of panels. In the previous part of this series, I listed a number of things that I was doing at Comic-Con that I was slowly deciding I didn't really enjoy doing.
I sorta/kinda/more or less appeared on my first Comic-Con panel at the first Comic-Con in 1970. It was not on whatever schedule they had. There was a fellow named Mark Hanerfeld who sorta/kinda/more or less worked for DC Comics in New York. I'd met him in their offices a month earlier. He was sorta/kinda/more or less an intern there and was paid occasionally for writing a text page or letter column.
Mark loved comics, wanted to be a part of that world and had some income sources that made it possible for him to, in effect, work for free for DC. He later became a paid assistant editor there…and a comic book character. The host of the House of Secrets comic, a bearded gent named Abel.
That first Comic-Con in San Diego coincided with a trip Mark made to visit relatives in Los Angeles so he stopped in. Someone — I'm fairly sure it was Shel Dorf — quickly announced a panel in which Mark, as some sort of official representative of DC Comics, would talk about what the company had planned for the future. Mark had me join him on this impromptu panel before, as I recall, about twenty people.
In case I haven't made it clear, DC had not sent Mark to this con. He'd just decided to go and he paid his own way there. But when he got back to New York, he began telling everyone about the terrific convention he'd attended in San Diego. He had much to do with the fact that over the next few years, people in the New York industry began making the trek, often at their own expense, to what we now know as Comic-Con International.
I don't recall any panels at the second San Diego Con in 1971 but I have a fuzzy memory of another impromptu panel at the '72, which was the first of many held at the El Cortez Hotel in downtown San Diego. If I'm right, it wasn't even listed on the programming schedule but was thrown together at the last minute with a number of convention guests who didn't really have much in common with each other.
That was the problem with a lot of panels at the first comic conventions I attended — in San Diego or elsewhere. Someone thought that any random grouping of professionals could constitute an interesting panel. Well no, not if they worked in very different capacities and, as was occasionally the case, they'd never even heard of each other.
I am certain though that at the 1973 con, which was held at a Sheraton on Harbor Island, there was a Writers' Panel consisting of just my friend Mike Friedrich and me. For many years after, I was always on a Writers' Panel not just at San Diego conventions but at every con I attended. They were all pretty much the same panel in terms of what was said and I think Mike was on several of them with me.
For a long time, I was on two or three panels per year at what didn't become known as Comic-Con International until 1995. Sometimes, I was the moderator, sometimes not. Sometimes, they were fun, sometimes they were not. They were more fun later when I had more say in who was on those panels and what they'd be about. The number of panels with which I was involved slowly grew from year to year.
At one point, someone from the convention called and asked if I'd host the almost-annual spotlight panel on Ray Bradbury…and how could anyone turn that down? For several years, I got to ask questions of one of the greatest writers alive for 60 (once, I think, 90) minutes…and I also got to sit down. As I mentioned in the last part, I liked having a place to sit down at the con somewhere I didn't feel isolated from the rest of the convention or expected to sell things or sign books.
At the 1997 Comic-Con, Al Williamson approached me. Al, as I suspect you know, was one of the best artists who ever worked in comics but you may not know what a terrific guy he was. We'd met before but that year as I recall, he had seen me interviewing another great artist and guy, George Tuska, on a panel. Mr. Tuska was quite hard of hearing but I sat as close as possible to him and talked slowly and managed to get some good answers out of him.
Al loved Tuska as both an artist and a human being and he thanked me for the effort. Then he said, "The convention has me doing one of those 'spotlight panels' in an hour. I don't think they get that I'm an artist, not a talker. I wouldn't even know how to start such a thing but I really liked the way you interviewed George. Would you interview me like that for my spotlight?"
Of course I would. I got to talk with Al Williamson for an hour or so and get him talking about the things that were of interest to me. Al told other professionals to ask for me and then when the convention invited some older comic book writer or artist and that person was uneasy about speaking in front of an audience, they'd tell him, "We've got a guy here who can make it real easy for you."
I mention Al because I think he was the one who made me realize that I was being useful at the con and could be more so…by doing something I enjoyed. I think it was because of him that I went to whoever was then doing the programming for the con — Gary Sassaman, most likely — and said, "Assign me to as many panels as you want."
Understand please that I'm not saying I started doing panels at Comic-Con in 1997 because Al Williamson suggested it. I was doing panels before that. He was just the one who made me realize how much I enjoyed it and how I'd found the best way for me to "do" Comic-Con. This will probably cause some of you to scratch your collective heads and say something like…
Let me get this straight, Evanier. You just took seven whole posts on your blog to tell us that to "do" Comic-Con, we should figure out what we enjoy doing there and do more of it and also figure out what we don't enjoy there and to the extent possible, do less of it? Is that really what it took you seven parts to tell us?
Yes. Yes, it is. And call me stupid if you like but it took me more than twenty-five Comic-Cons to figure that out.