After half a day’s work at Hang Dai, we took the train into Manhattan. The line at the Javits Center wasn’t to bad, and I got my pro badge even though I had forgotten the printout of my registration.

I was completely overwhelmed by the level of talent at Comic Con. Makes you feel very small. But people respond very well to my work over here, it just feels weird to be showing off my stuff when people like J.P. Leon or Dave Johnson is showing theirs just a hundred feet away. Very humbling. There are hundreds of hopeful writers and artists lugging portfolios around, hoping to score some work. Having a name that nobody can pronounce doesn’t exactly help. Or maybe it does, who knows.

I met a lot of people I knew from MoCCA and San Diego, some I just knew through Twitter and Facebook. Made some new friends and managed to pitch my book to a publisher, before the con closed down and we all rushed out into the drizzle and noise of New York City, spreading out in all directions.

Dean rushed off for a book event with Henry Rollins and Chris and I latched onto some other comics guys, and discussed a crime anthology in progress over burgers and beers. We ended up in an Irish bar in Manhattan, where I met Garth Ennis, a man who’s work I’m very familiar with, as I sat next to Peter Snejbjerg while he worked on Preacher, The Boys, Dear Billy. I didn’t really talk to Ennis much, but he still paid for our drinks. Nice guy.

Today NYCC officially opens their doors to the public. It was crowded yesterday, so today is going to be crazy…

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