There were a few musicians on various corners at the Gaslamp Quarter Gate this Comic-Con weekend. This Princess Leia violinist – brilliant concept.
All good things must come to an end. Especially Comic-Con.

The Trolley Station near the Convention Center and the Gaslamp Quarter gate got taken over by the Klingons. Have your universal translator handy.
Comic-Con is all about the badge. I procured my badge Wednesday night, got to experience the Exhibit Hall, which I was soon over, and got to experience one of the longest bus rides I ever had going across downtown, all thanks to the badge. The next day, during the early hours, I lent my badge to a friend of mine and met up with him close to the Gaslamp Quarter gate at noon. The borrower’s definitely a good friend of mine and I got my badge back on time. However, I don’t think I’d do it again, unless it’s Sunday (by which time I’m usually over Comic-Con and just don’t go). By then, anyone can have my badge. Hopefully someone I can trust not to go psycho in my name.
Today, I found out Harvey Pekar, writer of American Splendor and related comics, died. Before blogs and even before reality TV ever took off, Pekar broadcast his life in print with the help of a few artist friends, most notably Robert Crumb. Over the past few years, his work became important to me because his stories were effectively conveyed in visual form (thanks to his artist friends), but he also told his own stories and observations, and they were funny, witty, and moving, even disturbing, but always entertaining. With a healthy dose of misanthropy, he was very relatable. American Splendor, etc, were definitely influential to my Resplendence project. Thanks Harvey, amongst others, for inspiring other artists and writers. Rest in peace.
What happens when a misanthropic has-been creative writing teacher is put together with students of varying levels of talent? Murder and mayhem. Well, murder occurs in small doses, but a much-aggrieved, much-rejected, aspiring literary hack does a lot to cause the mayhem, which terrorizes Amy Gallop, the instructor, and her class of mostly novice writers. The mystery of the perpertrator, however, fascinates the group and is a much stronger draw than getting one’s stories torn apart. Jincy Willett‘s The Writing Class is one of those books I came across purely by accident while shopping for steampunk novels at Mysterious Galaxy in Kearny Mesa.
In an endearing scene, Harlan Ellison explains (and gets worked up over) DVD extras for Babylon 5 and why he should be paid for interviews used. It’s only right
When I was an undergraduate in the first day of an upper-divsion creative writing class, the professor had us write our manifestos as our introductions. Much of what I wrote for mine was “blah, blah, blah” except for one thing—I wanted to be a paid dreamer. Perhaps its the biggest pipe dream I ever had, but the flamboyant, pugnacious, and prolific author Harlan Ellison had been paid to dream and share for decades. Also, he’s known for much of his opinions, solicited or not, and his fights, as seen in A Dreamer with Sharp Teeth.
For any writer, this documentary is a definite must-see. As much as Ellison runs his mouth off, he does a what a writer is supposed to do—write. Also, he’s on point, whether he’s discussing using the mind or what it is to be a professional writer, as shown in a scene where he discusses Warner Brothers wanting to use interviews with him for DVD extras for Babylon 5 without paying him. Ellison puts up a fight, of course, but only because he believes he is right. And he is. Gotta love him for that.
I’m the latest person to comment on something that has been in the blogosphere for the past couple of days: Terry McMillan’s use of the F-word. Not “f*@<," but "fag."
Margaret Cho says gay men have several ways of saying “girl,” given the changes in tone of voice and body language. I can only say “girl” to Ms. McMillan sighing and shaking my bowed head. In the old days, a journalist would have published the article, a select few would have read, and gossip would have finished the job. Television would further the job for a while, but never underestimate the power of the spoken word. Unfortunately for Terry, this happened right in the information age. First, the articles get posted on the newspaper and magazine website, the news du jour may get some TV time, but then there are the blogs. I’ve seen this article or some mention of it on several different blogs (such as this one and another) over the past couple of days, and I’m just the latest person to talk about it.
To borrow something else from Margaret Cho, I think Terri McMillan has awakened Al-Gayda. The blogs may be bad enough, but there are also tons of e-mails with the links to the blogs or the source articles. And this will go on for a while, and just when it seems like it has become old news, Terri’s “weapon” will resurface on the search engines. The story may even show up on Snopes.Com with true status.
Given that her ex-husband found out he was gay during their marriage, “fag” is the only weapon she has? I couldn’t believe she said that. Since she claims he’s extorted her and put her in harms way, wouldn’t being specific and providing a detailed account be a more effective weapon? McMillan as a writer should SHOW, not TELL, and using “fag” as a weapons only brings her down. She should also be sensitive to the power of words and the impact they have upon others.
Once the lawsuit is over, girl, get over it. You may exorcize your demons in the next novel, but hopefully Angela Bassett isn’t cast as a bitter, middle-aged woman who has lost her groove. She’s too fabulous for that.
Some song lyrics for Ms. McMillan:
Now he’s gone so please forget him
Get yourself together
And you’ll be alright.
- Small Faces, “Get Yourself Together