The best thing about Salt Lake Comic Con, besides going with my uber-nerdy children, was being with 50,000 people who are either comic geeks or giant bandwagoners acting ridiculous. I’m a fan of both. The whole event was all so freakishly democratic. Anyone can be anyone at a Comic Con. As I watched Chewbacca roll away in his wheel chair, past the young family dressed as Batman’s entourage and forty-somethings getting sloshed in LOTR gear I thought about the power of story. We love and almost worship that power. It’s transformative.
And then I had to endure my children shaking their heads at me and asking me why I don’t write fantasy, since that’s all I told them growing up. Realism, they said. It’s so real. When I get there, I told them. I may not be a wizard, but I like the idea that whatever the crap I’m doing, it’s precisely on my time.
And one last thing I loved at CCSL. The comics selection. It was purrrfect.