
"Past performance does not guarantee future results."
Comic City was last Sunday, and it was... okay.
I sold nothing. However, I did finally start reading
Casket of Souls, so that's something.
Have you ever read any of Lynn Flewelling's
Nightrunner books? They are fantastic, yo. Heroic fantasy, all sorts of magic, fun characters, and political intrigue. Plus, all the Bi the Way and UST.
Casket's writing was a bit weird in the first couple of chapters, but by the time I got to the climax, I was crying and pumping my fist and cooing over love blooming, though not at the same time.
... Did you notice how I sidetracked from Comic City? It's almost like I don't want to talk about it.
It took me a bit to get over my disappointment. I put myself out there, and left feeling very sad. It's obvious that my skin isn't thick enough, not if I felt like
I (and not my work) had been rejected. I try to take solace that it was my first time, the venue was very small, the people across from my table had about as many customers as I had, and people
did look. They didn't buy, but they looked. Not what I hoped for, but I can take that.
I have to. It's all I have.
Aside from the lack of sales, it wasn't too bad. I sat for three hours, read nearly half of my book, and tried not to stare at people walking past lest I scared them. I've wasted my time in worse ways.
I have until mid-February to decide on whether to try the bigger, appropriately-named Super Comic City. I'll see I can handle more protracted sleep deprivation and ego-bruising by then.
Writing this week. I thought of joining in on
Month of Letters, but postage is nearly $1 a letter around here. Screw that noise. I came up with a better plan.