Izzie Rain goes to ComiCon

Welcome to my office. It’s invasion of the daddy snatchers. The color pink is spreading like a virus. I remain stubborn. I continue to pound away at my keyboard as this force of pink overtakes everything in its path.

Even the cats, as resilient as they are, will one day fold under the demands of young Izzie Rain. I can only assume that I’ll be the first to go. A daddy and his iMac forced to stalk the lowly coffee stained halls of Starbucks. I’m surprised that I’ve been able to maintain as long as I have. To write those uplifting stories of disembowelment and severed heads while surrounded by the pink and fluffy is a true testament to the greatness of me. But the end is near. My office space demise has been prophesied.

Six hours north of LA translates into a nine or ten hour drive to San Diego for ComiCon. That seems cruel and unusual for Mel’s eight month knocked up status. And flying was out of the question. So we chose Amtrak. We would leave at 11AM and arrive in San Diego around 2AM. We were told there may be delays.

Delays. Just assumed that meant an hour or two tops. Shows what I know. The train finally arrived in the late PM and we were on our way by 9PM. Of course, the food car closed at…9PM. You try telling an eight month pregnant woman that there’s no food to be had. So, we snacked on energy bars Mel had been smart enough to pack in case of emergency…

… and we accepted the fact that we would be paying for an empty room at San Diego’s Omni since we’d be sleeping on Amtrak.

ComiCon used to be a small artist/writer gathering. But as most things that eventually show a profit it has gone Hollywood. It’s worth making an appearance but there is so much to see that after a short time your brain goes numb from overkill.

Although it’s a great place to reconnect with friends of old. Bernie Wrightson stopped by Allen Spiegel’s booth to say hi. We started and ended most of our daily visits at Spiegel’s booth for the simple reason that Allen is our next door neighbor back in good ol’ Pacific Grove. Small world.

Mel and I ran into Jim Isaac and his all grow’d up daughter at the Lions Gate booth. Jimmy was there with Stan Winston signing and answering questions about their upcoming movie, Skinwalkers.

Jon J. Muth, a buddy as well as writer and artist of the children’s book, “Zen Shorts” (and several dozen others), painted pictures for fans from the Spiegel Booth. Jon started out in horror so I can’t help but appreciate the journey he’s taken.

Artists Kent Williams and Phil Hale.

Spiegel chatting with fans and artist Thom Ang.

And, of course, my good buddy, Stormtrooper Elvis. No ComiCon would be complete without him.

Every night was a different party. First was the Scholastic party. Them’s the folks what brought us Harry Potter. It was fun last year and fun again this year. And the liquid was free.

Of course, anytime you partake in too much liquid you may find yourself vulnerable. I’m fairly certain Scott, Spiegel’s nephew, accosted me.

Dean showed up on Friday and the three of us ended up at a pool hall where I taught him how to play and even let him win a few so he could feel good about himself.
Of course, it wasn’t all play. While there I had a string of meetings but it really was more meet and greet than anything else. It’s nearly impossible to get any work done while there. I met with the Tokyopop editors on “Sleepers” as well as FJ and Michael from Comic Book Movies. And later we joined them all for a party at the W…

…where we ran into Mark Wheaton and his group of friends. Wheaton’s in the center next to Mel and was the 3rd writer on “The Messengers”. I worked on it while it was still called “Scarecrow” and still at Revolution. Stuart Beattie followed me and the story saw some drastic changes based on Revolution head, Todd Garner’s notes. I thought Stuart did a great job based on the notes he was given but it still ended up in turnaround. Going into turnaround is never a good sign. It means the studio that started the process doesn’t want to make the movie and puts it up for sale. But it eventually found a home at Ghost House. Raimi and his team changed the story drastically and Wheaton was brought in to make those changes. After Wheaton it saw four more sets of writers before the shooting wrapped and one additional writer who came in before reshoots.
Mandate, the company that umbrellas Ghost House, sent out their recommendation for credits. They’re suggesting I get “Story By” and Wheaton gets “Screenplay By”. I could, of course, arbitrate for the “Screenplay By” credit because it does translate to a decent chunk of money down the road. But I read the shooting draft and the reshoot draft and after 7 other sets of writers…well it’s the same tone and idea but it’s a much different movie now.
Will it be any good? Should they have just shot my draft?
Well, once the movie is released I’ll post my original draft and let anyone bored enough to read make that decision.

After the Comic Book Movies party we hopped a bike with Tony Bedard, a comic book writer. I assume there’s a proper name for these bikes that roam the streets of San Diego so here’s a better pic.

As Chewy is so kindly demonstrating, you basically pay a dude to huff and puff you around town.

Once at the Hyatt we shared liquid with dozens of other comic writers and artists and it was around this point where my memory blurs. I vaguely recall running into my old buddy David Wohl (creator of Witchblade) and Eric Larson, a Spiderman artist from years back who now runs Image Comics. And I must give props to my knocked up wife for staying sober and getting me back to the room alive.

And I wasn’t the only one getting some work done while there. Mel has dove into the world of children’s books with passion. And took advantage of being around our buddies who have successfully battled those raging seas. One should never pass up the opportunity to hang out with those in life who are where you want to be. Because success is a puzzle and everyone’s puzzle is different. And you never know where you’ll find that missing piece of the puzzle that you need.

Sunday morning found us saying bye to Vader and the boys and standing in front of the train tracks at 6AM waiting on Amtrak.

Once home it was back to writing and preparing for Izzie Rain’s arrival. We explored the Monterey Birthing Center. It was a part of our class. You see, we have been taking classes to learn how to give birth because anyone who knows anything knows that it is pure luck that the human race has been able to continue for thousands of years without taking birthing classes. Last week when we told them we had to miss a class because we were going to San Diego they looked at us as though we’d just been caught drop kicking newborns down the hospital hallway.

When we showed up at the Birthing Center to check in, we were met by Nurse Fembot. Now, I have no proof that she was mostly machine, but I find it hard to believe anyone that old could stand on her own without being mostly rebuilt by Oscar Goldman’s Bionics. Anyway she told us to make sure we touched the big toe of Dennis the Menace when we entered the Birthing Center because it was a statistical anomaly that those who did would have twins.
Needless to say, when we passed Dennis the Menace, Mel and I hugged the opposite wall and never got near the nasty little creature. Can you imagine the germs?

Chris and Dean came up this weekend to celebrate Pacific Grove’s Feast of the Lanterns. But before their arrival, Dean finished his novel. You see, I’m not the only writer whose tummy turns at the current state of Hollywood politics and looks for other ways to write and be happy. I read the little novel twice last week and it’s amazing. So amazing that it went out to a string of A List directors this week. I shant go into further details because Dean has his own blog now and I got better things to do than to write his unofficial biography. I say he should tell the story.

The four of us…or five if we include Izzie Rain from her snug compartment…played us some black light putt putt.

Which proved that even under nothing but black light Mel’s boobs are huge.

That night we hit the PG block party. Ages ranged from newborn to 147.

If you question the merits of a small town block party being fun then just feast your eyes on Mel and Chris learning to Square Dance. I wish I was kidding. Of course, it was misting slightly that day thus the tiny dots on the picture…but no one seemed to care.

The Feast of Lanterns consists of a couple of days that build up to a huge fireworks show down at Lover’s Point. PG planned it pretty well. They basically wait until after the 4th for the prices to drop and then snatch up a ton of explosives at a good price.

Residents and visitors start claiming land the day before.

And those plots of land start filling up by noon on Saturday.

We had no plans of fighting the crowds but did have to hang out long enough for Chris to run through the obstacle course seventeen thousand times.

Then we rented ourselves a four person bike and huffed it over to the Wharf for lunch.

That night, rather than fight the crowds, the 4 1/2 of us joined Spiegel and went to a party at Don’s house for a smaller and slightly more intimate gathering.

We viewed the explosives from Don’s rooftop balcony.
The following morning we broke bread with Chris and Dean before they set out for San Francisco and the second leg of their journey.

And we slept.
On the work front, I’m writing two specs. One a straight nasty horror and the other a fantasy. I’m up for a couple of remakes, one I’m actually pretty excited about, but I have bantered on enough for now.