I was curious about Tales of Paranoia, Robert Crumb's first comic in nearly a quarter-century. The local comic shops had all ordered, and sold, a couple, by the time I found myself actually looking. The helpful clerk at one led me to some shelves of graphic novels, thinking it might have been placed there. Keen-eyed, she immediately spotted an installment of The Sandman that had been misfiled.
"Stay in your lane, Neil Gaiman," she said.
"You needed to give him that advice a few years back."
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I haven't posted much lately. We attended a niece's wedding, I've been working on some stories, and the cryptid book should soon be in condition to pitch. I also shared a table, courtesy of LA Mood, London, Ontario, adjacent to but not actually a part of a local "Merry Market." The market took some online flack for not calling itself, specifically, a "Christmas Market." I wouldn't care if they did, but I'm not a fan of the "War on Christmas" folk. They're not fighting to regain the right to say, "Merry Christmas," because they never lost it in the first place. They want the right to act pissy when someone refers to the spectrum of midwinter holidays as anything else. But I wish them a Merry Christmas nonetheless, and would like to suggest that the season will be a lot merrier without the chip on your shoulder.
I only sold two books, but I got to catch up with D.S. Barrick. His eldest daughter came with us, because she was part of a presentation on robotics at the Children's Museum, located in the same building. I gather that it went well. I also had a chance to talk with a range of people and an old friend.
The building itself is a converted cereal factory. Thanks to the Children's Museum, a triceratops stands guard outside-- dusted at present, with snow.
Stay merrie and bright during dangerous times!