Comic-Con, Perspective, and The Climb

A short story reflecting on how one can lose sight of their accomplishments on the path to finding success.

It seems like I will always be shaking off the phrase, “comparison is the thief of joy.”

I wrote and drew this story for a comic-con anthology that Dark Horse put out a few years ago. I’m glad to revisit this piece again and almost want to add like two more story pages about the experience of being a SPECIAL FRICKIN’ GUEST at the show. You made it, kid! The struggle is real, and you’ll almost always be too deep in the weeds to take stock of the magic around you. (This is me talking to me, not the general you)

It’s been a bit surreal going back to conventions after so many years away. This last San Diego comic-con was a funny one because it wasn’t just a reunion with friends from far away, but also a homecoming for local professionals. I saw Cecil Castellucci at a mixer, and she cut me off from following the Old World rules of “if we live in the same city, we’ll find each other after comic-con” and gave me the longest, sweetest hug… it had been over a year since I saw her in person, and even longer since I got to give her a hug!!!

Yeah, re-reading this short and thinking about the post (or peri) pandemic conventions has me hankering to add another few pages to the story, or maybe a squeakuel.

This strip also includes my favorite Paul Smith tote bag that I for the life of me cannot find. Did it get destroyed and I don’t remember? Oh well.