I Sold Out

It's true. I'm a sellout.

Let me take a step back and set the scene for you. Troy, Michigan. The Marriott. January 18 and 19th, 2008. A science fiction convention. A veritable Mecca for the geeks and nerds of southeastern Michigan. If you ever wonder what the stereotypical, book-toting, socially maladjusted, Star Trek-obsessed, computer-jockeying, eggheads of your high school days are up to now, ponder no more; they're making a yearly Hajj to ConFusion.

You'll find me there too. Although I have an avowed distaste for SciFi, I still feel at home among the neo-maxi-zoom-dweebies. We're simpatico. Oh, hell, who am I kidding? Gooble gobble. I'm one of them.

After checking in at the registration desk on Friday evening, my first order of business was to check out the huckster room. It was a bazaar of the bizarre, and some of the products were pretty strange too. There were, perhaps, 20 dealers hawking all manner of merchandise: books, games, videos, toys, t-shirts, jewelery, plush creatures and an astounding assortment of knickknacks. There were dozens of tables laden with weird and worthy wares, but the one that caught my eye was the one staffed by the Hamtramck Idea Men: George McVey and Michael Marcus.

My attention wasn't drawn their T-shirts featuring George's excellent artwork (I don't wear white T-shirts), nor their two comic books -- "If X" and "Pulp Dreams" -- featuring George's prodigious writing and illustrating talents (they look great, but they're not my genre), nor even Michael's "Gamer's Dozen" -- a collection of 12 games for $12 (an excellent value but I already have no time to blog, when am I supposed to play games?). No, what caught my attention was Michael's offer to sell my book at their table.

[Yes, this is yet another post pertaining to my book, "Anal Sex Haiku, Lascivious Limericks & Other Drivel". Deal with it.]

After some (brief and friendly) dickering over selling price and seller's commission, I went to my car, grabbed a stack of six books and deposited them at the HIM table. By the end of the evening on Friday, the Idea Men had sold one book. By the time I returned Saturday afternoon, another had gone. By the time the huckster room shutdown on Saturday night, they were all gone.

I sold out.

It feels great.

Miscellaneous notes from ConFusion:

1. I owe a debt of gratitude to the Hamtramck Idea Men. I couldn't have sold those books without their gracious offer of table space. Do check out their site if you can spare a paltry click.
2. I also owe an apology to the Hamtramck Idea Men and their customers. What passes for acceptable patter when peddling a publication of prurient poetry is, perhaps, too risqué for the comic book crowd.
3. ConFusion affords an opportunity for networking and I spent some time with fellow author, Christian Klaver. I attempted to convince him that he should self-publish his novels, "The Blood of Egypt" and "Johnny Bass vs.the Kung-Fu Dragon Cult". Alas, my attempts at persuasion fell on deaf ears and he remained insistent on giving them away on his website for free.
4. Aspiring "genre" DJs should consider what will happen when they wind up spinnig for a "non-genre" crowd. Yes, it was a lame-ass, overplayed pop song in 1980, and it hasn't improved in the intervening 28 years, but the second DJ got more people on the dance floor in the first 30 seconds of his set with Kool & The Gang's "Celebration" than the first DJ got in his entire, three hour set of techno music. Musical integrity and genre purity are wonderful things, but have a plan B if you're going to take gigs outside of "genre" clubs.
5. Cast whatever aspersions you like upon the denizens of SciFi cons, but I'm going to remain one as long as they continue to attract hot, half-naked chicks in body paint:


(Photo courtesy Russ Van Ness @ TopHat Studios)

Salivo ergo sum,
D.I. Prime
January 25, 2008