Todd Terwilliger

Morning. It sloshed over us sluggishly. We trifled with it, talking about Nazis while waiting for my sister to arrive from Pennsylvania, playing a few rounds of Everyday Shooter, eating at Maggie Brown again before noon rose it’s head, demanded our attention, and stared us down into the subway warrens.

It was inevitable that, having compiled the list of events at comic that I most wanted to attend, I would actually participate in almost none of them. Inevitable, perhaps, but not tragic. The convention grounds were so carpeted with pageantry, pomp, and circumstance, the air so thick with geek pheromones, that the panels and screenings, not undesirable by any means, were out of sight and thus out of mind.

Now that I have overcome my fear of the forthcoming comic convention, I must now tackle a slightly less-vital but crucially important task: selecting the panels and events to attend.