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You buy a ticket.
Okay, that’s facetious, and for that matter easier said than done in the case of San Diego. In any case, I’m talking more about exhibiting. How do you elbow your way in to a spot on the floor?
A few months back on one of the forums I frequent, a webcomic author posted asking if comic conventions were worth trying to host a table or booth at. Specifically, were they a good place to network and meet people, or would they be shunned by the establishment? Were webcomics “treated as lepers or not”?
The thought of putting yourself out there at one of these gatherings, particularly one that attracts more than just local talent, can be very intimidating. Who are you, Mr. or Miss Self-Publish, to believe you deserve to share the same space as nationally or even internationally famed artists and authors, some of whom have been working in the industry since before you were born? Please. San Diego has a five year waiting list for their Small Press area, and you think you have a chance?
Hang on, back up.
If San Diego really had a backlog of five years on their Small Press area, how the hell did we manage to get called up to exhibit there last year? Because I can guarantee you we had no special insider angle. Until APE last year we’d never even met the man in charge in person, and the first time I’d ever talked to him was when he called us out of the blue last April to offer us a just-opened spot he needed to fill. Had we said no or not made a decision fast enough, he would have just moved on down his list. We were a piece of paper, and for that matter a piece of paper that had been stamped ‘WAIT LIST’ on the CCI 2010 Sunday I turned in our application. At most you could say that our Small Press jury submission had passed muster, but we had no idea of even that being true until that phone call.
The point I’m making here is, we applied despite the hopelessness and pessimism a lot of people have surrounding the show, and it worked. This year we’re back on the wait list, but we now know that being turned down in December is not the end of hope. Nor did we feel out of place while we were there, and that’s important too.
It’s usually not in a convention’s interest to turn people away. San Diego Small Press is, in fact, an extreme example in terms of requiring a material print submission for judgment as part of the application process. Every other convention we’ve dealt with has wanted only two things to be true:
– All the paperwork is in order
– Your check clears
That’s about it. Now if you’re a pure webcomic it might be a bit rough if you don’t even have so much as some fliers to hand out, but I doubt you’ll be denied a table. A lot of applications don’t even really ask if you happen to be a webcomic or not, and most conventions don’t have any separate area for such, they’ll just seed you into Artist’s Alley or one of the booths. You might get a terrible spot, you might get an okay spot, or you might even get a great spot, but it’s all going to be pretty random in your first outings.
But if you want to keep going, plan ahead. Get your paperwork and payment in as early as possible. Speaking as a clerk in my own day job, I can’t tell you how much of a turn-on it is to get properly completed forms. Okay, perhaps I should rephrase that — but in any case I always try to make it a point to have all t’s crossed and all i’s dotted, and I make sure to politely follow up by email to ensure all the connections are made. Sometimes an organizer will make the rounds of the convention to introduce themselves, and that’s a great time to shake their hands and introduce yourself right back. Even the biggest shows are nowhere near as impersonal as something like, say, calling AT&T customer service… you’ll have a person or persons that you’ll get to know, and if you make a good impression with them, well, now you’re not just a piece of paper and a bank check any more. The flipside of this is that if you piss them off you might have trouble, but so far I think I’ve managed to balance being assertive about any needs without crossing the line into ‘annoying git’.
One absolute warning though, I’m not kidding about getting things taken care of early. Some conventions are okay to let slide for awhile after they open applications, but when we made the decision to try out Emerald City I had our paperwork in less than a month after they started taking submissions, and it wasn’t long after that that they had completely sold out of exhibit space. For San Diego I turn in our application while we’re still at the convention. The same thing can go for hotel reservations if you need them — grab them early, especially if your convention has any special exhibitor deals negotiated with the nearby ones.
Do webcomics have a stigma at conventions? Maybe there’s some attendees and exhibitors who’ll avoid you, but there’s a lot more who are just fine with it. I mean, again, assuming they can even tell that sort of thing on sight. When you have a venue where a guest artist often shows up with a single banner for their plain white plastic table, how do you tell amateur from professional at a glance? For that matter, we live in a world where you can’t assume the guy wearing jeans and sneakers isn’t a millionaire. I wouldn’t even worry about it. The very fact you have that table should be evidence enough of dedication to your cause. Everyone starts somewhere, and if there are any convention organizers out there who refuse to respect or recognize that, then I have, thankfully, yet to meet them.
5 thoughts on “How to get into a comic con”
Nightlyre
It’s been rare that I’ve heard anything negative about webcomics when we are in the dealers room at conventions. The most negative comments I’ve heard involve the tendency for webcomics to disappear or go on hiatus. More often, it seems we’re educating people who haven’t even heard of webcomics! But I’ve never felt out of place or unwanted just because we’re there representing a webcomic.
Clint
What’s interesting to think about is how many professional printed comics projects also end up “on hiatus”, in extreme cases sometimes coming out with only a single issue of a mini-series in the course of a year. I suppose it’s probably not as noticeable since print comics come in “bursts” of story rather than the steady once-a-week (or more) drip-feed webcomics provide.
It’s certainly easier to start up a webcomic, though, and easier still to abandon it. But again, I think actually going through the trouble and expense of a convention presence says a lot. You’ve made an investment and shown a belief in your work, whatever form that work might take.
Sharon Kerr-Bullian
When I attended Wizard World (big, but not as big as NYCC or SDCC), pretty much everyone got some attention. As it turns out, our fan-table spot was a good one, we were in a short row, we weren’t on an outside corner (the ones in the corners of the room), we had an open line of sight from one direction other than the front, with a big wall, thanks to our neighbors who were sword vendors, that stopped the eye and brought you back to the banner we put up on the back wall. That physical barrier, coupled with coming up to a high traffic intersection, created a psychological barrier that tended to make people stop and say hi to us.
Personally, I don’t decide who I’ll talk to based on whether they’re a single-shot, serialized, web or print comic, I decide based on their presentation. There were several tables I did spend a good chunk of time at, and some I’d even scoped out from afar during busy periods with the plan of making it back there when it quietened down a bit.
With several cons under my belt as a visitor, and one with a costume club table, I’ve got three pointers for anyone who does have a table for a con:
1) Catch their attention
If you want to grab a person’s attention at big cons, you’ll need to put your best foot forward. Present yourself with something eye-catching, and visually appealing, and that summarizes in one image, and a name, what you’re all about. Your banners and table dressings are advertizing. If I can’t see it from a few aisles away, I won’t know to make my way over there to check out what you’re all about.
And remember, if you can, wear a shirt that advertizes who you are and what you do. When I see you out and about (maybe you’re visiting another artist?), that’s another chance for you to sell yourself to other people. They’ll likely remember your face and your brand, so capitalize on that if you can.
2) Make yourself available and approachable.
I was reluctant to approach tables where I felt like I’d be interrupting someone. I rarely approach tables with artists who are sketching with a purpose; as an artist, I hate being disturbed while I’m working. If you’re doodling, I just might go on over and say hi, but if you’re concentrating, no dice. If I can get back there during the day/whole convention, I’ll definitely look and see if it’s a better time to talk with you, provided I liked what I saw.
If I see that you’re chatty and engaging without being too overbearing about it, I’ll probably come over and say hi. If you’re very withdrawn in your interactions, I’ll probably not come over to talk to you, because as a fellow shy person, I don’t want to add to your stress.
2) a) If you’re shy, aim for a smaller con first if you can.
I’m pretty shy face to face, and even with small con experience in costume, for a first time with a table, Wizard World Philly was way too big and busy for me. I felt really drained by the end of the con. You want to have fun too, don’t you? Take my advice and work up to the big cons, don’t overwhelm yourself at first. Get some practice by going to the small local cons, and train your PR skills there, because you’ll need to use them like crazy at the big cons.
3) You get out what you put in.
If you have a table, and your objective is to sell your comic, you need to treat your table as what it is: an advertising slot. The networking is important, but don’t do it at the expense of your advertising. If you went for the networking, you’ve chosen an awfully expensive networking method. If you can afford to spend the money on flashy banners, free handouts (business cards, post cards, etc), and nice table dressing, do it. And remember, you’re going to go through a lot of it, so stock up. At Wizard World, we went through our stack of 100 business cards in the morning of the first day alone. I spent the whole of the first night hand writing our club name and web URL on business cards by hand, and we ran out of those too. (If you can’t afford it, maybe Kickstarter campaigns can help? I don’t know, I haven’t looked at what you’re allowed to do with Kickstarter.)
Clint
I think Kickstarter is usually towards a single publication or project, but one other big benefit of conventions is getting word-of-mouth on good deals from your fellow exhibitors. In this way I found a place that will print up 1000 double-sided, full color postcard-sized fliers for a little over $30 US, including tax. They’re also local enough to us we can go pick it up rather than paying for shipping. At that point, who needs Kickstarter?
Most every exhibitor is always looking around to get the best quality in the best quantity at the lowest price. The best part is, if you make friends amongst your peers it’s also a built in testimonial that the services are as good as claimed.
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