🥸Convention Clarity
Oh, Imposter Syndrome You Scamp
Episodes of Storymaze feature: writing tips or a work-in-progress; something creative I’m digging; + a quote that’s got me thinking.
Headed to the Mohegan Sun casino, the gamble I was taking wasn’t slots or spins. The risk was just on the very idea of appearing at a comic convention again after over 20 years.
Mohegan was playing host to the 3 day Terrificon comic convention. Mitch Hallock, founder and host, had graciously offered me table space to show my wares and engage with fans. The minor issue with that? I had nothing new to offer, and so far “out of the game” — no sense of fans or readers or my relation to them. It could very well prove to be a lonely coupla days. Fortunately I had some good friends to ease my mind on the 2+ hour drive up I-95 through Connecticut.
Sheer Anxiety was in the backseat, with helpful direction at every exit passed. “Turn around. It’s better back that way. Less heartache and humiliation. At least in public.” And Imposter Syndrome was riding shotgun, ever assuring. “The most you can hope for is every troll on The Google who’s ripped into your writing over the years.” Dramatic pause. “Rightly ripped, I might add.”
Back when I was active at cons, it was talking up the latest book or boosting a future title. The best I had was a last-minute stack of prints I’d run off, cover art from my backlog of titles — and days gone by. The current days in question were just on the other side of COVID. The world had just started to open back up, and Terrificon was on the leading edge of cons testing the now-endemic waters.
Attendance was sparse, and social distancing was in its transitional state of social awkwardness. Should a, “Hey there!” be an halting wave…or a full-on fist bump? And what about masking up?
“Mask would definitely work in your favor,” said Imposter Syndrome. “Deniability is a good thing. For everything from, ‘Who are you?’ to ‘I thought you were dead.’” I thought I’d pushed him out of the car at exit 7 at 72 MPH. But never underestimate the resilient 🤬 nature of the voice of Resistance. (Props to Stephen Pressfield for naming this sorry SOB.)
But there was another voice, just a tad higher in volume, reminding me of that quote by John Burroughs: “Leap and the net will appear.” So I set out those prints, pulled up the banner with my name and recognizable characters I’d helped bring to life — and prepared for come what may.
The big reveal? It was okay to leave the past where it belonged: behind me. A comic con needn’t be — shouldn’t be — about proving myself or standing out. It was about connecting with people and embracing the joy of that culture — a community spirit made real from outrageous, industrious cosplay to heartfelt conversations about good story. “Who are you?” was an opportunity for, “Hi, I’m…” And any form of “Your writing sucked!” is easily answered when you challenge that opinionated person to define what makes it so 🤮 — and then make that a proper discussion. (Whether you agree on the definition of “sucks” or not.)
Even so, the vast majority of those who came by were there to express how much my stories had meant to them when they were younger. This wasn’t something an earlier version of me could appreciate, so focused/desperate on high praise or that next brass ring. Now, though, the reward was right in front of me: whatever good I’d put into those tales was now co-owned by these readers.
“Daredevil #304 was my first issue, and made me fall in love with the character for life.” I’d spent a long time avoiding reading those very comics and downplaying my own creativity. I needed a real-life reminder of how they played out through the eyes of an audience.
Their enthusiasm, the meaning they’d discovered in their own Storymaze through these issues turned them into shared adventures. Not just an adventure of a hero’s fist connecting with a villain’s jaw — and certainly not an adventure of accolades for my writing. It’s making new connections, rekindling old ones — and an adventure of celebrating storytelling together.
Which, when you stop and think about it, is kinda what a comic con really is all about. I’m glad I was able to figure it out after 20+ years.
As for Sheer Anxiety and Imposter Syndrome? I made those two posers walk home.
The Alien franchise loves to tout the xenomorph as a “perfect organism.” Sadly, humanity’s inability to compete in most of the films (Alien and Aliens being the exceptions as of this writing) stems less from the xenomorph’s perfection and more from our species’ unrivaled stupidity. That’s evident in the imbecilic decisions of on-screen characters (“What’s this black goo? I’ll stick my face in it and find out!”) and the repetitive mediocrity of most filmmakers (those not named young Ridley Scott or James Cameron) to celebrate a a tiresome parade of sameness and hollow retreads of the franchise’s worst moments.
The real treasure of this universe isn’t on-screen right now—it’s in the pages of Alien: Thaw. I first heard about it when I shared a con panel with Declan Shalvey, talking noir comics. Declan mentioned Alien: Thaw as fitting that genre, which was intriguing in a Storymaze kind of way: “Noir” and “Xenomorph” don’t seem very peanut butter and chocolate. But I’m always up for a new taste so I took advantage of it being a comic con and all to snag a copy — and devoured it that night.
Not only does this mini-series deliver on its noir promise, but Declan and his creative partners have also crafted a xenomorph love letter that satisfies fan (and studio) “demands” for certain tropes or callbacks in elegant and original ways. One particular twist should have been obvious — but the execution was so integrated I didn’t see it coming. Couple that with smart characters with clear motivations and alien action that registered high on the “I haven’t seen that before” meter — and I was elated to seek Declan out the next day of the con, to heap praises on him at his table. I stopped short of the obligatory, “Not bad, for a human.”
I enjoyed this interview with Radio Horror, with eerie walks down Nightstalkers lane and Hellraiser avenue. Turn up your headphones or speaker, maybe you will too!
“Don’t bend; don’t water it down; don’t try to make it logical; don’t edit your own soul according to the fashion. Rather, follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly.”
— Anne Rice
Speaking of cons…as I line up 2025 comic con appearances, I’ll promote ‘em here. I hope that means meeting some of you fine folks face to face. Be table ready: first person to show up at the show with a copy of any Daredevil: Black Armor issue or trade — the autograph is free. Show up in a Black Armor cosplay: get a full set of the original Fall From Grace comics!
Amazing Times
I’m D.G. Chichester. Seems pretentious to me, so if you’d rather just call me “Dan”, and have a go at the last name as Chai (like the tea) Chester (like it looks).
I earned my word-cred writing comic book titles like Daredevil, Terror Inc., Nick Fury Agent of SHIELD and Clive Barker’s Hellraiser. I like weird tales, so if things here bend that way — now you know why!
Folks seem to like the comic book adventures I’ve written, so if you haven’t checked one out — please do. Many are now available in fab collected editions — including the recent rad retro
For between newsletters…
I was at that convention. I have your signed print of DD3169 cover framed in my office. Last year I went back with my own self published book (and imposter syndrome). Thanks for the inspiration!