LumaCon's A'Coming!

Sign at the front door in 2019.

Here's a nice article in the local paper about where I'll be tomorrow: LumaCon, my favorite comics convention of them all! That's because, like Linus's pumpkin patch, it's the most sincere comic-con in the world. It's tiny, organized entirely by volunteer school librarians, and free. It exists purely for the love of comics.

Best of all, and a point I appreciate the article making clearly, it's about young creators and their work. The con makes an effort to mix up the kids and pros, and some of my best conversations about comics have been with those kids, whose work occasionally astounds and educates me. There's freedom in the work of someone who doesn't yet know all the rules that encourages a little rule-breaking of my own. Inspiration goes both ways.

An overview of about half the Artists' Alley in 2018.

Two stories about why I love LumaCon:

Because it's free, people who wouldn't normally go to a comics convention drop by just to check it out. Invariably, a kid comes up to the table with a parent or grandparent in tow. While the kid and I talk comics, you see Mom or Dad or Grandma or Grandpa realize that, "Oh, comics are a real thing that adults actually DO!" Their whole attitude shifts from vague embarrassment to beaming pride. That never happens at bigger cons.

This is my favorite con story of all. A boy about 14 came to my table with his father and grandfather. The boy had autism, and I don't recall him speaking to me. But he had a book on "How to Draw Dragonball Z" and had gone through all the exercises, meticulously mimicking their manga style as well as doing some original drawings of his own, and wanted to show me his work. I gently critiqued his pile of loose pages and encouraged him to create more characters and stories of his own. He left happy. Later, his father circled back to thank me and explain that he feared his son would never talk, until one day he discovered comics. His very first words, at something like the age of 8 or 9, were "Superman's cape is red." For that family, comics became more than a fun pastime. They were the key to unlocking and engaging the boy's mind.

Again, that doesn't happen amid a crush of a hundred thousand people at San Diego Comic-Con. "Superman's cape is red." Damn.

In addition, I'm sure to reconnect with cartooning friends. I know Alexis Fajardo, Andrew Farago, Tom Beland, Thom Yeates, Donna Almendrala, the Schulz Museum, and Jason Whiton will be there, and I suspect others may turn up.

I've missed a few LumaCons, what with pandemics and other obligations, and am looking forward to getting back. If you're around Petaluma, Calif. Saturday between 10 and 4, come say Hello.

My favorite LumaCon photo, 2015.