The Emerald City ComiCon 2009 was held April 4-5 at the Washington State Convention and Trade Center.[1] In front of the fourth-floor Subway restaurant, those dressed in semi-professional casual for the Council for Exceptional Children Convention and Expo began to blend into the T-shirt crowd, who then formed into a line that snaked down hallways; the queue looped and doubled back on itself as it expanded into an antechamber. A person in a bacon costume was the final indication that I was in the right place. Top Shelf had prime convention real estate this year: it was the booth that faced the bay of doors that opened into the exhibit hall.
The longest wait was reserved for the opening of the first day: once inside, even the longest creator lines, for guests such as
Batman animator Bruce Timm and
Hellboy creator Mike Mignola, rarely took more than 45 minutes.[2] DC and Marvel held the requisite promotional panels, as did smaller publishers such as Oni Press. Though he wasn't top-billed,
Star Trek: The Next Generation's geek-equivalent of a rock star Wil Wheaton carried off the media star portion of the program (other TV people included Jewel Staite from
Firefly and Noel Neill from
The Adventures of Superman).
Once again, although more heavily and steadily attended than last year (the fact that Sunday wasn't a holiday was a factor), it was still comparatively easy for a fan to chat with Big-Two creators such as writer Ed Brubaker (
Uncanny X-Men,
Criminal) and artist Stuart Immonen (
Ultimate Spider-Man). Jaime Hernandez (
Love & Rockets),
Stan Sakai (Usagi Yojimbo), Becky Cloonan (
American Virgin) and Derek Kirk Kim (
The Eternal Smile) headlined the indy-comics guests.
Attendee Brian Herron, 41, noted, "I think it's a little different this year. It seems like some of the bigger artists are here this last year than last year. A few of the artists that were supposed to be here last year had to cancel last minute, but they're actually here this year. One of the guys I noticed, Randy Emberlin, he's here every single year, he's a really neat guy to talk to." I could be biased, since it's on my adopted turf, but ECCC's intimate feel may stem not only from its scale, but from the fact that it's run by local comics retailer Jim Demonakos rather than an umbrella convention organization.
For many of the people I talked to, such as Anton, 12 ("I'm here with no one but my cartooning teacher and just by myself"), Gary and Cherryl from Redmond, Leah (33), Nicole (25) and Justin (26), it was their first comic con: Tyrone, 32, said "My expectation is met. This is what I envisioned." Although many of them came for the expected reasons — promoting or selling their comics, nostalgia, shopping, to get autographs and to gawk at people in costumes — a fairly constant theme was that people showed up to see or help out friends (Rin has volunteered for the last three years because "my roommate knows the guys who run the con and we really like them […] it's such an awesome convention, we've been addicted to it ever since we've discovered it"; Vienna, 32, admitted that she was "here because of my friend from
Battlestar Galactica [Tahmoh Pentikett, whom she met in film school], I didn't know who else was going to be here, but it's good!").
ECCC restricted itself to Saturday and Sunday, from 10-6 and 10-5, respectively. I believe this helps keep burnout at bay for creators, professionals, organizers and fans, and provides a more diverse set of options for Saturday evening.[3] Attendee Natani, 30, opined "It's different from the one I went to before in Fort Worth. They actually had that one hooked up to a hotel, so, they had events going 'til 10, 12. It had a dance too, which was kind of interesting. But I think the way this one is structured is a lot better, because it's actually more just a convention. It's not too much about people partying
[laughs], which is fun, but it makes for a crazy environment sometimes." The vibe was, again, very much like a younger, fresher, Vitamin D-deficient version of San Diego, with Playmates swapped out for Suicide Girls (
Playboy cartoonist Doug Sneyd was there to represent, though).
Notes:
[1] For those interested, it was advance = 2 days for $25, at-door $30, and $15 all other single-days except for Saturday at-door, which was $20. Children 7 and under were admitted free.
[2] As a transplant, I find nothing distills the essence of Northwesterners better than standing in line with them for a long period of time for movies, conventions, concerts, etc. Mostly they're polite and reined in: they apologize if they bump you; they let you pass through; they bring books and mp3 players to pass the time; they're less likely to sprawl all over the floor. Their attempts at conversation are friendly, and they even try to psych their friends up. "OK, get ready: you're almost at the front of the line. What are you going to say? Don't freeze!" Lest I give the impression they're Stepford Seattleites, they also make fun of other people further ahead in line (HOW MANY copies of that issue does he want him to sign?" and snark the creators (according to a compatriot, when Mignola arrived tardily the second day, he was greeted with a slow, sarcastic clap).
[3] That said, for those who might be interested in a one-day pass next year, the atmosphere is distinctly different on Saturday than it is on Sunday. Saturday is more crowded, with higher energy — you see more creators, but have less time to spend with them. By Sunday, some creators had succumbed to con fatigue, arriving more than 45 minutes past opening, and are in general more frequently absent from their booths. Some do fewer sketches throughout the day to work on commissions. On the other hand, as it's usually less busy, it's easier to engage in casual conversation. Some items may be sold out, but others may be discounted as the con draws to a close.
Image credits:
Photos ©2009 Kristy Valenti
Kristy Valenti currently works for The Comics Journal and Fantagraphics Books, Inc.
Uncharted Territory is © Kristy Valenti, 2008
The Emerald City ComiCon 2009 was held April 4-5 at the Washington State Convention and Trade Center.[1] In front of the fourth-floor Subway restaurant, those dressed in semi-professional casual for the Council for Exceptional Children Convention and Expo began to blend into the T-shirt crowd, who then formed into a line that snaked down hallways; the queue looped and doubled back on itself as it expanded into an antechamber. A person in a bacon costume was the final indication that I was in the right place. Top Shelf had prime convention real estate this year: it was the booth that faced the bay of doors that opened into the exhibit hall. 
Attendee Brian Herron, 41, noted, "I think it's a little different this year. It seems like some of the bigger artists are here this last year than last year. A few of the artists that were supposed to be here last year had to cancel last minute, but they're actually here this year. One of the guys I noticed, Randy Emberlin, he's here every single year, he's a really neat guy to talk to." I could be biased, since it's on my adopted turf, but ECCC's intimate feel may stem not only from its scale, but from the fact that it's run by local comics retailer Jim Demonakos rather than an umbrella convention organization.
