“You Probably Suck”

So goes Robert Kirkman’s advice on breaking into comics in his latest column.

I love it.

I try to let the statue on my bookshelf tell me he’s not talking to me, but it’s hard sometimes. As such, I might even bring that statue to Wizard World with me this summer.

Last August there was a movie producer-slash-novelist pushing a comic at the con. I chatted him up about the business side of writing, how he sold his book to a publisher in the UK and just placed the rights with Penguin in the US, how he parlayed that into the comic book, and so on. I’m a geek for that shit. He says “so what do you do?”

I was unemployed at the time, so I just said “I write.”

Some punk puke standing nearby snorted and said “yeah, don’t we all,” and his little skater girlfriend giggled.

Whatever, thought I, and kept reading the back of the guy’s novel. Unfortunately it changed the whole tone of things, and the author said “Good luck,” shook my hand, and moved on.

This did not make me happy.

Which brings me back to why I’m bringing the Stoker this year: so I can find that punk puke and bash his fucking skull in with it.

“Who’s a writer now, byotch!?”