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August 15, 2007: Wizard World Chicago 2007 - Final Report

Hey, folks! Time for the summation for Wizard World Chicago! Behold! A word of caution: You will not find me caterwauling about DC panel news, as I didn't attend panels. For that, you can check Barry's article. This is another in a series of Gonzo articles about the event itself, the interpersonal and extrapersonal and protopersonal experiences associated with fandom and writerdom.

It may not even directly associate with Superman at all times... you have been warned!

TOM SULLIVAN AND THE NECRONOMICON

Preview night.

The typical surly Chicago style roll-in guys are throwing carpet about, screaming at each other, driving forklifts right over your feet at times. In Washington, we're so overpolite it's scary. We'll hold up intersections. Chicago isn't impolite, it just suffers no fools. I respect that.

Thankfully, this time I knew the ropes a little bit more than before, where I took the El train from downtown and ended up carting my some 80 pounds of crapola all the way from the station to the convention center. This time, despite the incurred horror of debt, I found a hotel near the convention that allowed me to shuttle in and out. Score.

The first person there beyond me in our back corner was Virgil, the wrestling superstar. I knew him from Philadelphia, and he's a good guy. My patron, Mr. Scigliano, bumped us up to a press booth, which was neat because we were right in front of autograph row, but also in a corner. It was good and bad, but either way, we had a really neat spot, I think.

I hung out with Virgil, which was neat, helping him get up his banner, and he threw me a few very handy strapties. I'm not big on wrestling, but my buddy Arune Singh over at Marvel really is, so I geeked out for him.

Heading back, there was a gent to the right setting up his booth, so I did the natural thing. I asked him what he did. Oh, he said, he just, you know, MADE THE FRICKIN' BOOK OF THE DEAD. Sarcastic tone at my insolence all mine.

Yes sir, Tom Sullivan, the dude I had just so recently read about in the (awesome) book "If Chins Could Kill," was sitting next to me, unpacking the necronomicon. No. The NECRONOMICON. This is like the geek version of the Bible, and there it is. I could run over, grab it, and run giggling like a schoolboy before security elbowed me in the solar plexus and apologized profusely to Tom over my dead body. Such POWER!

But all joking aside, the Book of the Dead itself means a lot to me, personally, so this may not be a huge coolness coincidence to you guys, but wow. When I was eight to ten, I started systematically picking through my school's library. In those years, and I can't recall exactly when, but I know I was too young to be doing such things, I read books about Nazis and World War II, and one of the creepiest things I ever came across, something that scarred me for life and helped found a sense of justice, were the weird tells of Nazis turning human skin into lampshades. The Necronomicon, if you aren't aware, is based somewhat on this concept, given that the book is supposed to be made of skin. So, when, at 14, I finally got to sit through Evil Dead 1 and 2, the thing that stuck with me most was the naked ladies (I was 14). But the second most important thing, and the first most important thing now, was that book.

Inspired as I was by the stories of Tom roughing it out on the couch or the floor (I can't recall specifically) to help master props, the thoroughly roughshod production of guys working through to their dreams, and what's become of that, what with Raimi and Campbell and the cult around the films, it means a lot to an indie schmuck like me.

He came over, yakked with me a good number of times, and though I put out an outward face of calm, I was pretty geeked out every time it happened. He asked more thoughtful questions about the nature of Superman than most folks I interact with on this site (not to slight you guys, he's just insightful), and right as I left, he surprised me with a signed print... being a big Cthulhu fan, and a big Evil Dead nut. wow.

SLEEPING IN

I checked the Wizard website for the time the con started, and it said 10.00 am. Of course, it meant 10.00 am for non-VIP folk, and I'm an idiot, so there I was, rushing my butt over to the con late.

Barry pops by, says hello, and is away to hit the panels. People begin streaming in, and I start meeting great folks left and right, good times. For some reason, poetry sells much better in Chicago, I have no idea why.

Gary arrives, Gary Ornsbee, the guy I hung out with and stayed with last year, along with Brian, who was also there last year, and we arranged for the hotel... and decided on food. Good times. Harry Carey's, which is this place named for a famed Chicago announcer, as I understand it. All I know is I kept saying Mary Carey's, like an idiot, which proves I'm still 14.

Up comes Mr. Ian Staley and his gal Bridget Flynn, also known to you all as Cinemaguy... and he pulls a trifecta. Right on the spot. He buys all of my books, my comic... I've never had that happen in person, and only once in real life.

We hit it off well, and for the rest of the con he was a vital deputized member of the homepage (you owe them your thanks for the pictures at the end of this article, unless otherwise noted), and he and Bridget kept me sane with aid, comfort, friendship, and we even became evil Zoom brothers, Ian and I.

Bridget endured us geeking out, took the photographs with a smile, and put up with me running my mouth and talking to her boyfriend indefinitely when I should have cut things off. Great people, good friends, and an honor to meet.

COCKY WAITERS AND VEAL PARMISAN

When my sister was born, I was 11 years old. We went to the hospital commissary, and I had, for the first time, veal. Generally speaking, veal has always had an association of affluence with me, and it's also very expensive. So I hadn't had veal since I was 11. Given that I had not eaten that day, and saved massive amounts of money on transportation, I went for it. Heaven.

The head chef, who served us, asked us if we wanted desert, and when we said that we were too stuffed, he ordered bats to thump our skulls for us. Gary couldn't have run if he tried, nor could I have, as we'd walked 1.5 miles as the crow flies, 3 miles as the tired geeks fly, to this joint after he'd spent all day at the con, so we laughed, paid the ticket, took our free chips, and taxied.

How is this relevant? Because man, it's been a long time since I've had veal, and I owe a debt of thanks to Gary for spurring me to be courageous and splurge a bit.

THE BIGGEST LITTLE SECRET SINCE SNAPE KILLED DUMBLEDORE

The DC Nation panel hinted strongly that people who lined up when the doors opened would get a special bracelet for a screening. The people were instructed not to tell anyone, and to line up early.

People knew in Thailand fifteen seconds later and the line had already begun for the next morning.

I knew people, plenty of people, who stayed up all night to get in line. The line wrapped from the DC booth to where I was, which was quite a distance away, then on into infinity next to Artist Alley.

EVERYONE I saw got a band, which really sucked for the people who stayed up all night, but it was obvious, the Dark Knight footage was at hand.

Unfortunately, professionals and exhibitors weren't allowed in, or I'd have been able to tell you firsthand what I saw, but it involved Harvey Dent, Joker ruining people's day with a machine gun, and Bale action, along with most of the cast.

As this happened, I sat on the dead floor and read Countdown #38.

Ouch.

MICHAEL KELLY and BARKER THE BEAGLEMAN

Also present was Michael Kelly, a local artist and the creator of the character Barker the Beagleman. Another steadfast and constant presence, we had a number of great conversations on the nature of Superman comics, Adventures of Superman, the show, and the direction of the books in general.

Barker is an incredible character... Kelly gave me a copy of the first trade last con, and I read it avidly (it's got a killer, hilarious opening scene), and I read it in a single sitting. I could have sworn I wrote a review for Felix at Cinema-Crazed, but I'm not finding it, which is insane, because I enjoyed the hell out of it and raved about it for some time. So, ergo, now I recommend it in the best way I can, retroactively, and with apologies.

He showed me the sequel in the slower portion of the afternoon, and I read it, again, in one sitting. It's forthcoming, but the best way that I can describe it is Flaming Carrot oddball humor meets a hardboiled detective story meets Cerebus transcendence, all with a lot of thought and character. Destined to be an indie mainstay, and awesome stuff.

BILL COSTANZO

Five years ago, with the help of Anthony Arfuso, I came up with a series of comics in the wake of Superman Unlimited, a fan comic I put together as I was learning to form a comic script, and came up with a concept called "Superman: Ascent" with Anthony.

The basic premise in the first few pages is that the son of Superman and the son of Luthor, both new to their namesake, had a battle in which Luthor, who has hair, is hit by a blast of heat vision from an inexperienced young Superman, which causes him to lose his hair, per the Silver Age origin after the Byrne origin. Subsequently, we learn that the elder Luthor is dead, Superman is in retirement, and Lois has moved on to the editor of the Daily Planet, where she says, "Don't call me mom! Call me Chief!" to her son, Jonathan Kent, now a cub photographer.

Why such detail for a fanfic? Well, because Bill picked up the script, drew the first eight pages, and PRESENTED the thing to me at the con! And it was incredible. Check it out, below.

DC deserves to be hoisted by its own petard, given that this man did not get past the talent search.

But, if he asks, tell him his work sucks, because he's so damned good I'm going to try and hijack him for an adaptation of my fourth book, and if he realizes what he's got, I'm a dead man. So SHHHH.

Please, though, in all seriousness, check out those pages and let him know how truly good that work is.

SKIPPER

Skipper Martin has created the first indie comic good enough to ever give me goosebumps. It's called "Bizarre New World," and I literally cannot spoil the secret of this story beyond saying that it goes from a man who learns how to fly and literally, emotionally, tears you apart, makes you laugh, cry, you know the drill, but honest, at the end of the third issue, he makes a believer out of you, where he's slapped you sideways in the first two issues.

He turned to me, knowing I was a reviewer, and handed me the book back at Wizard World LA and thereabouts. I read it, thinking, "Man, another indie" because most of them, quite honestly, suck. Instead, I was blown apart, wrote him a good review, and found myself sold on the concept.

Skip and I talked about where he was going with the series, and he asked if I would do a backup story. He hadn't even finished the sentence when I said yes, and if you check out issue three, right after the goosebump page, there's a preview of my short story, "The Third Anabaptist Church of the Divine Flight."

It's an INCREDIBLE universe, and if you don't buy this book, you need to die. And Skip, you can put that on the cover, if you want. "If you don't buy this book, die."

Because really, it's like that. Read the reviews, see if I'm crazy. Skipper is gonna change comics, and he makes me envious, because he's better than me.

NOEL NEILL

I've seen Noel at several cons now, and it's always an incredible honor. I shake like an idiot, I can hardly keep myself in check, and it's just... I mean, heck, she's the once and future Lois, fer cryin' out loud!

I went over, determined to finally buy one of her glossy pictures and get it signed. I've never had enough spare cash to do so, but now I was ready. We spoke for a bit, and she started signing, and I was told that my money was no good at their booth, and she gave me a signed Kirk and Noel print... I had the dopey-ish grin on my face for twenty solid minutes after I left her to the next folks, and I'm still staring at it, right now, on my desk.

Later, she had occasion to pass the booth, and she stopped and said hello, and actually talked with Mike and I for twenty minutes. It was a treasure. After she left, Mike turned to me and said exactly what I was thinking, "When I was a kid, I never dreamed I'd be able to talk with the people on the screen."

It's quite a thrill, and there's a reason everyone at the con you ask says that Noel is the nicest lady there. She's truly a role model, and I'm a very cynical man, but I say that with full honesty.

AIRPLANE!

One more story of craziness, and apologies to anyone I missed.

Reading Atlas Shrugged, seated in the waiting area, there was a beautiful woman across from me. She was talking on her phone, but when she finished, she turned, smiled at me a few times, it was a good thing. Always a great feeling.

The guy next to her turns, wraps his hands around her headphones, pulls them off, and starts to hug her. I'm thinking boyfriend, then I realize it must be father age. He must have seen me flirting with his daughter... but nay. He's just some creepy old guy.

She gets up, bolts off without a word. I'm thinking, okay, can't report that, it could just be a dad she's mad at or something. Right?

Five minutes later, another lady sits down, and he grabs her back. I kind of semi-stand, and the lady walks off, but I'm still fuming. I hate guys who do stuff like that. It gives an air of paranoia and fear to every single place I go, and women who would normally smile at me instead flinch away, thinking I'm gonna pull off their earpieces and hug them when they don't want that.

It made me want to pound his face in.

Thankfully, police arrived at that point, hauled him up, and pulled him away, taking him down the causeway to a waiting paddy wagon. People all around me, who don't really pay attention, noted that they'd put him on the plane before everyone else. Idiots!

But regardless, a happy end to a sad tale of depravity. Here I am, with another cart full of memories. Many thanks, all!

WIZARD WORLD CHICAGO HONOR ROLL:

Noel Neill

Tom Sullivan

Ian Staley

Bridget Flynn

Mike Kelly

Gary Ornsbee

Brian

Ryan Salyers

Bill Costanzo

Skipper Martin

Barry Freiman

The Chicago Police Department

Mike Scigliano

Virgil

Wristbands

Veal


2007 Wizard World Chicago Convention - DC Panel	2007 Wizard World Chicago Convention - Dan DiDio	2007 Wizard World Chicago Convention - Dan DiDio	2007 Wizard World Chicago Convention - Jan Jones

2007 Wizard World Chicago Convention - Bob Wayne	2007 Wizard World Chicago Convention - Neal and Ruby	2007 Wizard World Chicago Convention - Noel and fan Bridget Flynn	2007 Wizard World Chicago Convention - Noel and fan Ian Staley

2007 Wizard World Chicago Convention - Comic Art by Bill Costanzo	2007 Wizard World Chicago Convention - Comic Art by Bill Costanzo	2007 Wizard World Chicago Convention - Comic Art by Bill Costanzo	2007 Wizard World Chicago Convention - Comic Art by Bill Costanzo

2007 Wizard World Chicago Convention - Comic Art by Bill Costanzo	2007 Wizard World Chicago Convention - Comic Art by Bill Costanzo	2007 Wizard World Chicago Convention - Comic Art by Bill Costanzo	2007 Wizard World Chicago Convention - Countdown Presentation

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