What’s it like to be a vendor at a ComicCon?

What’s it like to be a vendor at a ComicCon? Perhaps you never wondered. I’ll tell you my experience with QuadCon in Peoria.

It all begins when I hear about a ComicCon, especially in my area of central Illinois, Peoria.

I go to the QuadCon website and find out how to get a table, how much it costs, and what the schedule is.

After buying the table and putting it on my agenda. I advertise it to my fans–like you.

By the way, if you want me to come to your area, contact me with the opportunity.

If it works out and I can come, I’ll give you a pick of my books!

Or you can pick my newest book, Secret Supers.

The Day Before the ComicCon

I pack my books to sell–all of them. That’s four different books, about a hundred and fifty copies. Normally I keep them in the Amazon boxes they come in, but I pack about a hundred in my rolling suitcase, until I can barely lift it.

I pack up my posters and most importantly, my zombie turkey puppet.

You see, I read the first page of Zombie Turkeys and act it out with my puppet.

What’s the first page like?

The First Page of Zombie Turkeys

Chapter 1

Bartonville

He felt different. More energetic, more alive. He bred with
female after female in his flock without tiring. He stayed
awake through the night. He feared no predator.

Then a turkey hunter shot him.

The setting sun overlooked a crisp, clear evening in early
November. South of Bartonville, Illinois, a farmer had leased
his wood lot to two turkey hunters. Big and burly in their
bulky camouflaged outfits, they had just bagged one.

“Good shot, Pete!”

“He’s a big ‘un!”

Pete and Bob walked up to the tom turkey, bleeding on
the cold ground. The rest of the flock had scattered into the
woods. He had exceptionally good plumage and weighed
perhaps twenty pounds. Pete reached down and picked him
up by the neck.

“He weighs at least twenty-five pounds!”

Then the turkey’s eyes opened—and gleamed red. He
kicked with his spurs and pecked savagely at Pete’s arms and
eyes. Dozens of his hens attacked the men from behind.

“Gobble! Gobble!”

He felt different. More energetic, more alive. He had no
memory of being shot, but a certain turkey satisfaction at
killing his killers. He also enjoyed pecking at their dead meat.
He had always liked frogs, but this meat tasted better. He led
his flock down the road, in search of more predators to eat.

I’ll do this ten to twenty times in an eight hour day.

Andy Reading Page 1 – and more

Here’s our table at QuadCon:

Finally, the End of the ComicCon

The convention ran out of gas by 4 pm and we all closed down. I packed up my books, took down my posters and went home.

Let me know if you have any questions about conventions. I have a goal of going to one a month this year. I’ve done three so far.