San Diego and the Ghost of Mr. T
November, 1992

And finally we get to a column that I actually think is pretty good and well-focused. Took me long enough, eh?

I mean, sure I’m fucking full of myself.

But I was right.

Heh. Mr. T. Bet you forgot that one, eh?

  I was going to write one of those cutesy travel-diaries for my trip to the San Diego Comic Con and Expo. You know:

9 am: Arrived in San Diego

9:15: Arrived at Convention Center

9:20: Went to breakfast meeting

Etc.

Well, that fell through real fast. Within a half-hour of reaching the con, I became so overwhelmed with people to meet and greet, that any pretense of keeping notes on exactly who and when was thrown right out the window.

So, rather than discuss specifics, I'm going to give some general impressions, feelings, and abstracts on how (among other things) our industry has changed in the last 11 months (The con was in July, not August last time), how the con has changed with it, and how we, as a retail community, can influence it to change even more for the future. I'm apt to be a little long-winded, and philosophical on this one (heck I might even stray from the point entirely, but free-form has always been my strength – especially when I've only had one day off in the last 22), so please bear with me. I think it'll be worth it.

First things first. I went to this show a little too little. Since we're still effectively a 3-person operation, and since I wanted Aldyth, my promotions person, to go down as well, I only went to one of the two days of the trade show, flew back to San Francisco to work the store, then flew back down to San Diego for an evening, a morning, and a full day. That sounds like two days, but, no, it really didn't work out that way in practice.

The show has grown this year. The expo looked 25% better to me, while the con itself was at least 50% larger, if not far more. Absolutely overwhelming. I allotted my time for the smaller space it had last year, and was completely unprepared for this year’s demands.

The growth of the con is both a blessing and a curse. Let's take the expo for a moment.

First of all, for those of you who have never attended one of these, what happens is that the various publishers and manufacturers set up booths where they display their upcoming wares. You have a chance to talk face to face with the publishers about what does or does not work in your store, how they can help you better sell their books, and you can view material that is up-coming, to better gauge your orders.

The extra space that the expo had this year means more diversity of publishers and suppliers, both from number and fields, exposing a wider diversity of material that we can carry, and become informed about. The downside is that, if you're conducting tangible business (rather than merely running from table to table doing the meet & greet), it becomes nearly impossible to spend much quality time with every exhibitor there. I spent eight hours at the trade show, and I didn't get to visit with nearly a quarter of the exhibitors. I realize that it may not be feasible, but given the escalating number of exhibitors, it would be nice to see at least one more day of the trade show proper. To a certain extent, I think it is unfortunate that the smallest of the publishers are jammed into the back corners, while DC and Malibu are right by the front doors. I'll admit I know absolutely nothing about convention organization, but it seems to me that it would be better if the "big attractions" were further back in the hall – the same way milk is the furthest back item in a supermarket, and the new comics rack is usually the most distant rack in a comics store. You want to have the thing that people want the most, farthest in the rear, so people have to walk past all the "B ticket" attractions to get to it, hopefully spending more money, as they go along.

Other than the "not-enough-time" syndrome (which it looks like many people faced), I had a very enjoyable time at the expo. I reacquainted myself with many an old face and friend, while making many new friendships for the future. I fought with some people, shook the hands of others, and generally made my usual impact (no jokes now...)

One of the biggest surprises to me from the whole convention was my newly-found pseudo-celebrity. I had dozens of retailers, publishers, fans, and creators coming up to me (not the other way around) saying that they had been looking for me, and could-I-please-have-a-moment-of-your-time? I gave out advice, I fomented revolution, and shook my head in wonder at the whole thing. Now I realize that I'm one of the few retailers who is standing up in public, desperately trying to change the status quo, but I labor in solitude 51 weeks of the year, I run my store, mind my own business, and don't hear a peep from anyone else in the industry (that's why the column is titled "Tilting at Windmills"). Sometimes I feel I'm fighting an impossible fight, all by my little old self. So all you people coming to me ("I love your column!"), I wanna thank you for your kind words, but you should get out and write yourselves! If you agree with me or (most especially) if you don't, pick up that keyboard, and type a missive – we need all the communication we can get!

This is really what I walked away from San Diego with: a overwhelming certitude that we (as a whole industry) don't communicate enough. If there's a message here today, that's it. And I mean every level, both internally, and externally.

Can I get real here for a moment? Good. We're screwing ourselves up by contracting rather than expanding our lines of communication as our business rapidly grows itself.

The publishers sure as fuck don't know what they're doing. They promote in the wrong way (to a stagnant base rather than reaching out for new ones), choose the dumbest books, with weak creative teams to produce (I won't insult anyone in particular by naming names, but there was sure a sea of crap floating around this year), and in general seem oblivious to the concept of nurturing a market. They'd far rather flood the market with garbage in a desperate attempt to retain market share (all 40-some odd annuals from Marvel & DC next year introduce new characters? Please tell me where are we going to get the customers to purchase all this merchandise? Anyone?)

The distributors have gotten so big that they are virtually unable to support anything that isn't "hot". Reorders? Hah! What a joke! Nothing personal to the lads and ladies at Diamond & Capital (some of whom I like an enormous deal), but service is at an all time low. Sure, they've both got fancy computer set-ups that (in theory) make reordering easier, but the situation is just as bad, if not worse for anything but the 10% of "strong sellers".

I hear so many of you complaining to me about your similar problems, but how many of you take the time to complain to the companies themselves? One of the most productive meetings I attended was a breakfast with Marvel, billed essentially as a bitch session. Tell us what you think we're doing wrong, and we'll work to change it (telling us what we're doing right is O.K., too!) I got my time to make a couple of points, and while I'm well aware nothing is going to change overnight, at least I think I planted some seeds.

Besides retailers not being willing to articulate their needs, and desires, we're still a generally unprofessional bunch. More people were lined up to have their pictures taken with Mr. T then went to the Kitchen Sink booth, for example. Even retailers are as simple and easily directed as our customers.

What can I say? I think we have the power to change the world (or at least the industry) in the smallest of our fingers, if we so desire. This industry is a tiny, aborning thing, and all it takes is a little elbow grease and a loud mouth to make an impact. I've never been one to fool myself. My one little store in San Francisco represents probably less than 1/10th of 1% of any given publishers market. But I know that with a little bit of assistance, a smoothing of the obstacles retailers have to climb, and a dint of hard work, I can become worth far more than that to most of them.

Do you have a problem? Reorder processing too erratic? Price points too high? Worried about speculation, and it's long term impact on the market? Stand up and say it. Say it loud, and say it clear. Announce your declaration of independence from the tyranny of business-as-usual. 5000 comic shops, people. That's all (and some people say far less). 50 retailers all crowing about the same problem, all suggesting ways to combat it, all working towards a unified goal of the best retail marketplace in the world – that's 10% of their business. And they'll take you seriously.

I worked a five-figure promotion deal with Marvel to try and reach a new market, here in the Bay Area. It sure as shit didn't come spontaneously. ("Boy, let's help out that Hibbs guy, he's got such luscious blue eyes...) It happened because I was willing to stand up and criticize, publicly, some of their promotional practices. And, assuming that this works as well as I know it will, I'll be praising their balls to take a chance on a punk like me (that's not to say I'm going to stop criticizing them, mind you -- they've got p-l-e-n-t-y of problems that should be addressed. Just like every other publisher) Virtually every week I get some publisher calling me up saying, "I'm working on such-and-such, d'you want to be part of it? Do you have any suggestions" Not because I'm any big authority, but because I'm willing to address the concerns of the enlighten retailer. (I only get listened to 25% of the time, after all)

So why don't you do it? No time? Bullshit! I work 80+ hours a week, and I still find time to stir up new shit. No interest? Well, then you're probably not reading these words at all, but it's your future, man! No understanding? Then educate yourself. If you work as hard as you possibly can, trying to make your store the best that there is (something for everyone, fair prices, appealing to a wide demographic base) then it will happen. Communicate your mind, clearly and loudly, and they'll eventually pay attention.

So how does this all tie in to the con? Well, like I said, it was bigger this year than ever before, reflecting the expansion of the industry itself. But, I have noticed that the bigger the con gets, the more fragmented it gets. There was a perhaps higher level of clique-ishness than ever before. But, it's still small enough that we stand a reasonable chance to break down the barriers. But we have to foment change -- "A little madness, now and then, is relished by the wisest men" (My obligatory Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory quote) Speak out, express yourself, and never settle for the status quo. We can make a difference. Go to events like the San Diego con, and speak to as many people as who will listen. It's all of our futures.

I can't do it alone.

Neither can you.

And if it's not now, then when?