A podcast host recently asked about my experiences with fans at comics conventions. It reminded me of my favorite con story of all.
It happened a few years ago at LumaCon, a small, free comics convention put on by librarians in Petaluma, Calif. to encourage love of reading, creativity, and wholesome fandom. It couldn’t be more sincere if it were Linus’s pumpkin patch.
A boy about 14 came to my table with his father. The boy had autism, and he said very little. But he had a “How to Draw Dragonball Z” book and had gone through it, meticulously mimicking its manga style, and wanted to show me his work.
I gently critiqued his drawings and asked if he’d created any characters and stories of his own. He turned to the back pages and showed me some original work, which I encouraged him to keep doing. His dad was beaming. The boy and I had a good chat and he left happy.
Later, the father circled back to thank me and explain that he once worried his son would never talk. Then he discovered comics. His very first words, at the age of 9, were “Superman’s cape is red.”
Comics were the key to unlocking and engaging his mind. For the father, going from fearing his son might never speak to a few years later watching him share his art with a cartoonist at a comics convention was profoundly moving.
"Superman’s cape is red."
You don’t forget something like that.
* * *
PLEASE SUBSCRIBE! I am sharing these little "250 Words On" essays via Substack, which will email a new one to your In Box every Tuesday morning. Just follow this link and enter your email address. It's free, and I promise to never use your address for evil purposes.
No comments:
Post a Comment