This is a description of some of the kinds of fans I run into while signing at conventions or store appearances. It is not meant to represent a cross-section of fandom; just the extreme cases. Most fans are normal, polite, non-threatening people.
To all of you D’versers whom I’ve met at cons, not one of the examples sited below pertains to any of you. This applies to even past D’versers. So, don’t go all sensitive on me folks, okay?
THE SURROGATE.
This is a guy who’s a major fan but can’t gin up the courage to ask for autographs. So he brings his kid along and shoves them toward the table while he stands at a safe distance saying things like, “Tell Mr. Dixon how much you like his writing.” Meanwhile, the kid is goggling at you like you’re either the school principal or a maiden aunt who likes to cheek pinch. Once the comic is signed it’s hastily plucked from the child’s hand and carefully replaced in its bag. The pair departs with the kid longing to be back in the hotel room with his Gameboy and the dad calling out thanks and promises of
“how much my Stevie loves your comics. Really!”
THE MERCENARY.
This guy brings a mountain of multiple copies to be signed that he plans to stick on
eBay as soon as he gets home. You can spot this guy not only by the pile of same-issue comics, but by his fixed smile and assurance that he’d “never sell these because it means so much meeting you.” While I’m signing this guy is always craning his neck and looking around for his next target. If he spots someone hotter than me his impatience grows exponentially the longer it takes me to sign. Like it’s my fault it takes ten minutes to sign a hundred comics. He then scurries back to his dealer’s table. One time I got very irritated with one of these clowns and signed a pile of Robin comics with a random sprinkling of obscene phrases included with my signature. He never came back.
THE FIANCE.
This one has never happened to me but I’ve seen it happen. For me this is a relatively new development at cons. An attractive young woman comes to the con looking to land some comic book stud. I sat next to a conventionally hot male writer at one con and the woman he was signing books for only needed a stripping pole to complete the Delilah routine she was acting out. The writer ignored her as she was obviously very close to having Sean Young play her in a Lifetime movie. The only time I came close to this experience was when my own wife and Tom Lyle’s missus surprised us both at a store appearance and acted like they were giddy schoolgirls thrilled to meet their favorite comic book creators. I suspect there may have been some white wine served at lunch that day.
THE WANNABE.
I sympathize with and respect anyone trying to break into this business. But there’s a certain creature I could do without. He’s a guy (usually in my case a writer) who wants to get into the business and starts his spiel with how big a fan he is of my work. It’s always generic praise and I quickly get the sense that he’s only talking to me because the line for Neil Gaiman is too long. He asks the usual questions but pays no attention to the answers because he’s too busy scanning the room to see if Neil Gaiman is walking by. Then he hurriedly leaves a sample script after I’ve told him I won’t read it and darts off to follow a guy wearing a leather jacket and wrap around sunglasses inside a convention center in August.
THE CHARACTER.
This is the guy who shows up at my table as a character I’ve written or created. I know I’m supposed to react but I never know how. They usually stand there in a “Well..? Well..?” pose of intense anticipation. Do I compliment the costume? Do I pretend he actually IS the character I wrote? Does HE think he’s the character? How far does this make believe go on? I don’t want to hurt the guy’s feelings. No one wants to hurt the feelings of a guy wearing a mask. I don’t need my Diet Coke spit in at the drive through by a guy whose Ant-Man costume I laughed at three cons ago. And will someone tell all those kids dressed as anime characters that we really DON’T know who they’re supposed to
be? It’s like Trick or Treat with sociopaths. “And who are YOU dressed up as? And please don’t hit me with your big hammer.”
THE ONE-QUESTION GUY.
The longtime fan who had one burning question on his mind and feels compelled to bring it up to you each time he sees you at a convention. “What was going to happen in Airboy #51?” “Why did you kill Oliver Queen?” “Did you know that Bane looks like a Mexican wrestler?” “What did you think about the Birds of Prey TV show?” These questions are not annoying in themselves. What gets kind of creepy is when the same guy asks the same question ten or twelve years running. And no matter how often he’s told the answer and no matter in what depth of detail the answer is explored, he will come up with the precise same question the next time as if this is the first time he’s asked it. Maybe I serve as a living mnemonic. “There’s Chuck Dixon. I shall query him about the chances of Barbara Gordon getting out of wheelchair. Hm, what is this feeling of déjà vu washing over me?” His deadly cousin is
One Character Guy. This fan is obsessed with one, and only one character and it is always, without fail, some lower tier forgotten superhero reject. Even if I have absolutely NO connection to the character and have written a story featuring them I will have to answer a barrage of questions about why they don’t use the Red Tornado more. And these guys ALWAYS want your e-mail address. I can’t imagine how more superhero-centric writers like Mark Waid or Kurt Busiek put up with this.
THE SCARY GUY.
Every comic creator has one of these. Except John Ostrander. At last count, Johnny O. clocked in at about two hundred.
(You write stuff like Grimjack and the weirdos come out of the trees.)
This type of fan is the reason a creator that I know won’t do conventions
-- he’s certain that there’s a John Hinckley out there lying in wait for him. The profile for this fan is that he never blinks and is usually beaded with a sheen of sweat. He never blinks because he’s not sure the world will be here when his eyes re-open. The sweat is from containing his rage at the death of the first Supergirl. He usually speaks in a monotone (often to himself) and occupies a space next to the front of the line. He speaks over every other fan at your table and is visibly unhappy when he’s not the center of attention. His admiration always comes in the form of love/hate. He loves your work but questions some of your decisions. And he’s read and memorized every interview with you. Normally these guys are roly-poly types who get winded eating a do-nut. But not my scary fan. This guy was an intense dude with what looked like several layers of prison muscle on him. He had a stare that belonged at a voodoo ceremony and the comics he would bring to sign were creased and wrinkled from being clenched tightly in his grasp while in line. I say “was” because I haven’t seen him in ten years. I’m certain he was killed in a knife fight over who draws the best Rogue.