LumaCon 2026

An overview of the main room at the Petaluma Recreation Center. Other vendors and events were set up in surrounding rooms and outdoor spaces.

I had to take a quick spin through my favorite little comics convention in the world this morning, even though I couldn't commit to tabling this year. Librarians put on the LumaCon Comic Convention for Youth in Petaluma, Calif. to support kids' creativity, promote reading, and give young creators a chance to mingle and mix with professionals. It's free and has a bake sale. What's not to love?

I did a lap, said Hello to lots of friends, bought some books, and then headed out to the rest of my busy day. I'm glad I made the effort. It's a great event run by great people for all the right reasons.

Cartoonist Tom Beland greeted me as I entered the big room.

Nearby, Andrew Farago from the Cartoon Art Museum, his wife cartoonist Shaenon Garrity, and their son Robin.

Comic book artist extraordinaire Brent Anderson.

Cartoonist and Schulz Studio staffer Denis St. John, autographing a book I bought from him.

Another Schulz staffer, editor and "Kid Beowulf" cartoonist Lex Fajardo.

Maia Kobabe, author of one of the most banned books in the U.S., "GenderQueer." We had a nice conversation about graphic medicine.

I also ran into Schulz Studio head and cartoonist Paige Braddock, best known for the comic strip "Jane's World" and her new series for kids, "Peanut, Butter & Crackers."

Down a hall from the big room was space set aside for people who just wanted to sit quietly and draw. It was full. Another example of why I love this event.

CAM Commissions Completed

As I mentioned last week, I signed up to do art commissions to support the Cartoon Art Museum in San Francisco while Comic-Con International was raging in San Diego. In exchange for a donation, people could ask the artist of their choice to draw pretty much whatever they wanted. I've done it before, always enjoyed the variety and challenge, and this year was no different!

I wanted to share three of them. The commissioner of the fourth one wants to keep it private. All are done in ink and colored pencil on cardstock. These will be off to their new homes and owners in a couple of days.

Little John requested "Captain Marvel (Original Big Red Cheese)". There have been many characters called Captain Marvel over the years, including the most recent played by Brie Larson, but this is the original real deal who sometimes goes by the name "Shazam!" (for complicated historical legal reasons). I had fun drawing the lightning. 

The requester asked for "a gargoyle." I emailed back to ask what she had in mind: a character from the old "Gargoyles" cartoon show? Disney's "Hunchback of Notre Dame?" Any particular cathedral or era? She sent me back a photo of a concrete statue in her yard that resembled a traditional Asian dragon, so that was my inspiration. 

Heather asked for "Powerpuff Girls or artist's similar choice of (non-sexualized) female superhero." No alternative choice necessary because I love the Powerpuff Girls and have been drawing them since my daughters were little! The Powerpuff Girls are kind of like "Peanuts" characters in that their designs look very simple but you have to get them just right or they look completely wrong. Deceptively hard to draw, especially while trying to impart a little style of my own. 

These were all a hoot, and each stretched different art muscles. I don't otherwise do commissions, but I've always been happy to raise a few bucks for CAM, a fine institution of culture and scholarship. If you ever visit the San Francisco waterfront near Ghirardelli Square, drop in and tell 'em I sent you. They won't give you a discount or anything, but word might get back to me and it'd make my day.

2025 Comic-Con Sketch-a-Thon

Ah, the smell of FOMO in the morning! I will not be at Comic-Con International in San Diego this week. My friends who are will have to muddle through without me. However . . .

I will be supporting the Cartoon Art Museum (CAM) in San Francisco with one of their fun fundraisers in which artists draw commissions for cash! You can choose your artist at THIS LINK HERE, pledge the specified amount, and have them draw whatever you want (let's keep it PG-rated). From my perspective, I've been delighted to draw some weird stuff I never would have thought of and, in some cases, had never heard of. Some past examples are attached.

If you were at Comic-Con, you could drop by the CAM table and have a random artist sketch something for you. I've volunteered to do that before and it's fun but I don't do my best work in that situation. Somewhere in the world is a kid for whom I drew Chewbacca dunking a basketball who deserves a refund. Better to sign up for me online, where I can take my time and do it right. Honestly, I tend to go above and beyond on these things to make them as pretty as I can.

If you love a character of mine or have another favorite character that, for some unfathomable reason, you'd like to see my version of, sign up and in a week or two I will mail you a piece of one-of-a-kind original artwork suitable for framing or blotting up spilled coffee. My slots fill up fast and I don't otherwise do commissions, so don't wait. It's a good price and for a good cause!

Garbage collectors from the movie "The Burbs."

The Scarecrow of Romney Marsh

I couldn't draw it for my book, but I could draw it for you!

Cartoon-a-Thonning

I was improbably set up at the first table visitors encountered entering the museum's Great Hall. I'm holding a portfolio of some of my art because I enjoy explaining to folks, especially young artists, how my drawings become books. I like to demystify the process. Write and draw your story; the rest is details. Immediately behind me was illustrator Eric Martin; to his left was comic book artist Brent Anderson; and to his left was cartoonist Tom Beland.

I spent the afternoon at the Schulz Museum with a flock of other cartoonists to celebrate Paige Braddock's 25-year career as the head of the Schulz Studio (hired by Mr. Schulz himself the year before he died). The museum has one of these "cartoon-a-thons" every few years to mark special occasions, and they're always fun. Cartooning is a solitary profession so I appreciate a chance to catch up and talk shop. Plus I talked about comics with some nice people and sold a few books. That's a real good day.

Heroic local independent bookseller Copperfield's stocked many participants' books, including "A Fire Story," so I sent people to buy it there.

An angle on the Great Hall over my left shoulder. The hat in the foreground graces the head of Brent Anderson.

My friends Amber Padilla and Mary Shyne, with Brett Grunig and Emily Martin at the next table over. Amber did a story for the same "Marvel Super Stories" anthology that I did, so I sent three people who bought the book from me down to have Amber sign it as well (she was not offering it, so I wasn't stealing any sales from her.) Mary has a new graphic novel coming out soon that looks terrific and I expect will do very well.

My wife, Karen, took this photo of me talking with Brent Anderson and Tom Beland, two of my favorite (and very different) comics stylists.

I was especially looking forward to meeting cartoonist Julia Wertz, whose work I've been a fan of for years. I knew she had moved to the area a while back but we didn't cross paths until today. Turns out she'd read my stuff as well, and we're scheduled to do a panel together at a small con next month, so good thing I met her! Made my day.

Cartoon Art Museum (CAM) board chair Ron Evans chats with Justin Thompson while Lex Fajardo leans into his hard sell. Ron was there to present CAM's prestigious Sparky Award to Paige Braddock, but she didn't know that yet.

Lex interviewed Paige in the museum's theater about her life, career, and time with Peanuts. It was a really nice retrospective, including a look at her long journalism career, during which she drew the illustration of Martin Luther King on the screen. I especially appreciated her insights into character-based cartooning. Paige was genuinely surprised and touched when Ron Evans gave her the Sparky Award at the end, and immediately credited her team for their hard work. Also, her blue blazer matched the color of her eyes, which I thought was a real heads-up play on her part.

POW! BAM! LumaCon 2025!

I had a terrific Saturday at my favorite little comics convention in the world, LumaCon, organized by librarians in the town of Petaluma, Calif., to promote reading and creativity. Admission is free, and it's a family-friendly event for people who like comics, manga, anime, fantasy, science fiction, cosplay, and related tomfoolery. 

I love it for a few reasons. One, I get to see my cartooning friends, some of whom are shown in the accompanying photos. Two, I love the energy of the event: everyone is there for fun and love, and these days that feels necessary. Three, I get to sell some books.

Fourth and foremost: I love to talk to young people (and some older ones) about making comics. Most people don't give much thought to how stories get published. It just seems like something that other people somehow magically do. But it's not magic, it's a process. I like to show my original art beside the printed page and describe how I turn THIS into THAT. I make the point that if you fill two sheets of paper with words and art, fold them in half and staple them in the middle to make an eight-page comic, you're doing pretty much the same thing I do. I have fancier toys, but that's not what's important. You told a story only you can tell. THAT'S important. 

I think demystifying the creative process matters. Every comic, painting, song, novel, etc. you've enjoyed was made by a real person. No tricks or shortcuts, they just sat down and did the work. I know that at least some kids need to hear that because, when I was young, I was lucky enough to see some original cartoon art and meet some published writers, and it meant the world to me. If they could do it, so could I. 

And if I could do it, so can you.

That's my pitch, anyway, and I met some young (and older) people at LumaCon who seemed receptive to it. That's why I keep going back. 

In addition to the friends I got photos of, I touched base with too many others to list. I enjoyed quick greetings with many and quality conversations with a few, with promises of "We've got to get together soon." I'd like that. 

Thanks, LumaCon! I hope to catch you next year.

My set-up. I accidentally arranged my table with my nonfiction books on the right and my fiction books on the left (or, as I sometimes called them, "my serious books and my happy books") and it turned out to be a nice way to talk about them. I'll remember that for the future. My portfolio is open to two pages of original art that became the two pages from my Avengers story in the "Marvel Super Stories" anthology on the table in front of them. I like to talk about process. I sat beside Maia Kobabe (on the right), which is interesting because Maia's book "GenderQueer" is the most banned book in America and yet I always overhear two or three people telling Maia how it saved their lives. Go figure.

An overview of the main LumaCon room. Notice all the young people sitting at tables and peddling their art. That's one of this con's main missions. I took this photo standing on a stage with tables for kids to glue together craft projects. Other stuff happens in the lobby and a few side rooms. It's a friendly full house. The LumaCon organizers don't track attendance, but I'd guess 2,000 or more people came over the course of the day.

A vaguely helpful signpost in the lobby.

The Art Room, which was nothing more than a quiet place with paper, pens and crayons for people to draw with. Isn't that terrific?

Some finished drawings pinned to the wall of the Art Room.

The Bake Sale! Every comics convention needs a bake sale. The kids at the table to the left sold baked goods, while the kids behind the window in the back wall were serious culinary students turning out legitimate food. I enjoyed a fancy chicken sandwich as well as a cup of mac and cheese with bacon.

Inside the Cosplay Room. Pros, semi-pros, and kids with cardboard boxes over their heads. Everybody's welcome.

A trio of cosplayers. I didn't notice the head peeking through the neck of the character on the left (Khonshu from Moon Knight) until just now. Smile!

Luckily, I did not witness this Dalek exterminating anyone.

My friend, cartoonist, and Schulz Studio staffer Denis St. John.

The creative couple of Emily C. Martin and Brett Grunig. We have comics in common but I really wanted to talk to them about printmaking, at which they are experts. Brett even teaches it, and it's something I'd like to get better at. 

Maia Kobabe in intense conversation with my friend, cartoonist, and Schulz Studio editor Lex Fajardo, with creative powerhouse Gio Benedetti (in yellow-sleeved shirt) at the table behind them. 

Librarian Nathan Libecap, one of the core group of high school and public librarians who put on LumaCon, and make it just a bit bigger and better, every year. The blue flannel shirt in the background is on cartoonist and Schulz Studio Creative Director Paige Braddock. 

As much as I enjoyed my day, walking down an aisle and finding Steve Oliff was the highlight for me. In some circles, Steve is a giant. He's won multiple Eisner and Harvey Awards, and is known primarily as a colorist. In fact, he was one of the first artists to do digital coloring in the early 1980s. A pioneer. Steve is also a few years older than me and grew up in Point Arena, on the northern California coast, and when I was a teenager his name was whispered in reverent tones at the local comic book shop as "the hometown guy who turned pro." That was a big deal. So I had a chance to babble all that to Steve, and I think he appreciated that not only did someone there know who he was but seemed familiar with his entire career. Being able to talk to someone like that as a peer is a real treat.

Rain did not dampen the enthusiasm of kids for pummeling each other with swords, pikes and maces under the covered walkways of the Petaluma Community Center. Astonishingly, no casualties were reported.

My last photo is dedicated to the librarians, not just for putting on this event but for being heroes of civilization in an increasingly hostile world. 

See You at LumaCon!

Overview of the main exhibition space from 2024. LumaCon is held at the Petaluma Community Center, with other activities in the lobby and nearby event rooms. 

This Saturday, Feb. 1, I will be at my favorite little comics convention in the world, LumaCon, in Petaluma, Calif. Hours are 10 am to 4 pm, and admission is FREE, so if you or someone in your family lives in the area and is comics-curious, it'll cost nothing but time to drop by.

I love LumaCon because it's put on by local librarians to encourage reading, art, and creativity. It has a craft area, a gaming room, and a bake sale. Tables are split about half and half between pros like me and young kids making their own stickers, prints, and zines on printers at home. What's neat is that LumaCon has been happening long enough (since 2015) that a few people who started out as kid amateurs have turned into young-adult pros. 

I'll be there selling books, talking about how I make comics, touching base with friends, and enjoying the pure positive energy. It's expected to rain, which will put a damper on a few outdoor activities like LARPing, but 95% of the action is indoors. Maybe it'd be a good way to spend a wet day.

Crafts.

Bake sale. Who couldn't love a comics convention with a bake sale?

More Sketch-A-Thonning

In addition to hosting an in-person Sketch-A-Thon at Comic-Con, the Cartoon Art Museum does a virtual Sketch-A-Thon in which patrons can commission art from artists for $15 and up, depending on complexity, size, etc. So in addition to drawing live last week, I'm back home drawing . . . well, I'm still drawing live, but nobody's hovering over me watching.

The idea is to get your favorite character drawn in a given artist's style, and the bigger the mismatch between those two the more interesting, I think. Honestly, the virtual Sketch-A-Thon is a better deal, because at a con I have to get a drawing done in 15 or 20 minutes, while at home I take a ri-DIC-ulous amount of time. Apparently I don't know how to half-ass it, and sometimes I wish I did.

I got five requests through regular channels, plus two back-door requests from people who contacted me privately after donating to CAM. I trust them. Here are the first five. Ink (brush pen and Micron pen) with colored pencil on paper.

Request was for Batman. Whenever you get a chance to draw Batman, draw Batman.

The request was for Superman villain Brainiac, the 1980s robot version (Brainiac has had a lot of different looks over the years. Yeah, I had to look this one up.)

Request was for the Marvel villain Cobra, who's been around for decades but was new to me. I don't think he gets through too many revolving doors with that tail-cape, but it's a cool design.

Request was for the character Kassandra from the Assassins Creed: Odyssey video game. I had to write my daughters for help on this one; since references turned up a few different looks for her and Robin and Laura play the game, I had to ask "Is this what she looks like?"

I think this was my favorite: the Scarecrow of Romney Marsh, a Disney deep dive from 1963. This guy was a sort of Robin Hood type, stealing from the rich to pay the King's exorbitant taxes upon innocent townspeople. Disney made three "World of Disney" episodes that were later edited into a movie. The lead character was played by the great Patrick McGoohan! I like the off-beat requests.

Comic-Con 2022

Comic-Con Photo Dump! We had fun. I saw some friends but not all I'd hoped to. On Thursday, I had nice conversations with Tom Richmond, Dave Kellett, Chip Kidd, Peter Maresca and others. Had a howdy/handshake/hug with many more, including Karen Green, Stu Rees, Andrew Farago, Shaenon K. Garrity, and was especially happy to meet Johanna Draper Carlson in real life after a decade-long virtual relationship. Did a panel for Abrams Books, drew some sketches in exchange for donations to the Cartoon Art Museum, ate some pasta. 

Home away from home, the Abrams Books booth. It's not just the little counter in the foreground, but the booth in back that's twice as big. The smaller counter is for book signings; I'll be there later.

Editor Charlie! We slipped our masks off for just a moment for this shot. Otherwise, attendees are being very mask-diligent.

Two of the comics that started it all: the actual first appearance Spider-Man and first issue of Superman, going for "if you have to ask you can't afford it" amounts.

Two Lokis (Lokii?). In general, it feels to me like there's a lot less cosplay this year, and less elaborate.

For the Cartoon Art Museum's Sketch-A-Thon, cartoonists sit for an hour and draw anything a patron wants for $15. It's a good time for a good cause. As you look at the following drawings, keep in mind these are sketches done fast, not finished pieces.

One of my sketches. This was for a patron I didn't actually meet who had a standing order for mermaids in a variety of costumes and themes. He provided several pages of examples of the sorts of costumes he had in mind. One of his themes was "St. Patrick's Day" so I went with that.

Another patron saw me drawing Captain America and said, "Hey, can you do the Hulk smashing?" and I could and did.

The Comic Book Legal Defense Fund has a classy display of comics that have been banned in various places, including books by my friends Maia Kobabe, Raina Telgemeier and virtual pal Jerry Craft. Just a reminder that this is the 21st Century.

A terrific Doctor Octopus.

Here's a nice summary of our Abrams ComicArts panel at Comic-Con (with my name misspelled only once, so that's a win) from Nancy Powell at The Beat. 

What the article doesn't say--and would have no reason to--is that I went out of my way to praise Abrams's design team, including Pam Notarantonio and Charice Silverman, who worked on "Last Mechanical Monster." Abrams designs books better than just about anybody, and they enhanced my book immeasurably. As I said on the panel, I bring them raw meat and they turn it into a gourmet meal.

I also encouraged the audience to build their own robot army by buying 30 copies of my book and gluing together the paper robot dolls in the back. To be used for good or evil, no judgment on my part.

The Abrams ComicArts panel, with Editor Charlie at the podium, then Abrams editor Charlotte Greenbaum, me, comics writer Brian Michael Bendis, and Chip Kidd. I hadn't met Bendis, who is famous in comics circles, and I was a bit intimidated, but he was very nice and gracious. Charlie is introducing me.

A selfie with me, Other Brian, and Chip.

Photo nicked from website "The Beat" (www.comicsbeat.com)

After the panel, Brian, Chip and I went down to the Abrams booth to sign our books. Brian Michael Bendis had a line that wound around the booth, down the aisle and around the corner. Chip and I did not. But a few very nice people did want signed copies of "A Fire Story," including the cosplaying couple in this photo and a wonderful woman who dragged six hardcopies to the Con for me to sign to her relatives who'd lost homes in fires. Readerwise, what I lack in quantity I make up for in quality.

On Friday, I did another hour at the Cartoon Art Museum's Sketch-A-Thon, this time with my cartoonist friend Alexis Fajardo. The next photo is a drawing I did for a CAM patron who requested "Captain America and Pokemon," resulting in the ultimate team-up. (I originally thought to have them battling, but realized there's no way that Cap and Pikachu, who represent the heroic ideal in their respective universes, would ever fight each other.)

In addition to his own comic, "Kid Beowulf," Lex Fajardo works for the Schulz Studio in my hometown. So he liked my shirt.

Captain America teams up with Pikachu! Villains have no chance.

Next, a story about someone whose name I'll keep to myself. This person came to do a Comic-Con panel after spending a full day and night in a San Diego hospital with IVs, antibiotics, the whole enchilada (not infectious or Covid-related). They showed up having been released from the hospital just a few hours before, did a great job on their panel, and no one would have guessed how weak and awful they felt. Knowing full well that a convention panel is one of life's least pressing obligations and everyone would have forgiven their absence, they still kept their commitment. It was one of the greatest examples of "The show must go on" I've ever seen, and kind of awesome.

Finally, a word about how much I love going to Comic-Con with my daughters, Laura and Robin. To be able to share it with them--to have interests and passions that overlap in the giant Venn diagram that is Comic-Con--is one of the great pleasures in my life. We had a swell time, especially when they pulled me to things I never would have done by myself. Thanks, girls!

Robin and Laura and I ended Thursday gorging on gluten at Buca di Beppo.

Obligatory photo of the Con floor from the mezzanine window....

....and the same thing looking the other direction. This is just a fraction of it.