I’m leaving for South By Southwest tomorrow! My awesome job is sending me there for the interactive portion of the festival. It will basically be a week of listening to people talk about the internet, drinking with colleagues and playing video games (there’s an arcade!). Expect a post on the future of comics when I return.

A few items I wanted to mention, since I’m terrified of flying and wanted to cement some sort of legacy in case the plane explodes:

• I released a new album last month! It’s called Lake Poems. My brother and I wrote and recorded the whole thing during the month of February for the RPM Challenge. It’s almost like chiptune music mixed with baroque era instruments. I dig it, and we’ve been getting a lot of positive feedback, so please check it out. You can download the entire album for free. If you like it and want to stay updated on music we do (there’s another release coming at the end of March), consider our Facebook fan page. Because I haven’t gotten around to setting up a real website yet.
• I got a book deal! Quirk Books, known for the insanely awesome Pride & Prejudice & Zombies, will be releasing a book I’ve been writing with my best friend. It should be available at your local bookstore in May of 2011. I can’t say much about it, but I promise that it will be absolutely hilarious. Also: my editor said that I’m the youngest author ever signed to Quirk, which gave me +10 to Ego.
• I got into a fight with my mom this morning! And I feel really bad. Sorry, mom.

If you’re attending SXSW and want to meet up, I’ll be there from March 12th to March 16th. As with any convention, you can spot me by my Virgin of Guadeloupe pin I got from Attract Mode last year.

This thing has become a wardrobe staple. It’s sort of integral to defining my look: dirty hobo wearing a Virgin of Guadeloupe pin. Otherwise known as Derelicte.

I live in Newbold, which is one of those fancy “revitalized” Philly neighborhoods. It used to be part of Point Breeze up until a few years ago, when nice families started moving in and local business owners stopped getting shot. One of my favorite parts about living here is walking past the Drexel School every day. It’s a big old 19th century elementary school. I think it’s been abandoned for as long as I’ve been alive… there are trees growing out of the top. It’s like something out of Jumanji, except I never have to see Kirsten Dunst’s stupid face. It adds a very cool touch to the neighborhood.

But the Drexel School’s days are numbered! The historic site is being destroyed. Workers appear to be doing it brick by brick, as if they want the ghost of Francis Drexel to slowly suffer. I can understand why it’s being taken down. I mean, the place is a total death trap right now. The interior is in shambles and it would take tons of fifty dollar bills to fix it.

You can check out many more great photos at this Flickr page. The big question is: what new structure will replace this awesome old building?

Luxury townhomes. Yay! That’s so much better than a grocer or a restaurant or a park or any of the other things my neighborhood could use. I will be calling these townhomes Douchebag Village.

When coming back from my parent’s house following a wonderful Thanksgiving dinner, I took the Stupid SEPTA Broad Street Line, which I ride multiple times a day.  Today, something was different: the entire car was wallpapered to look like a Bud Light can. A garish, bright blue with condensation graphics, floor to ceiling. It looked like the walls were dripping with slime, and the phrase “TAILGATE: APPROVED” was stamped all over.

It was a Thanksgiving miracle! Not six hours before, this looked like a regular subway car, but now it has been transformed into a seizure inducing monstrosity. I’m sure the people who spent their thanksgiving applying the Bud Light decals were just thrilled with their life choices.

Normally I would say this is not a big deal. Advertising is important! Advertising raises product awareness (I probably wouldn’t have know that Bud Light was a shitty company if not for this) and helps fund public transportation (those new signing bonuses have to come from somewhere). But the bright blue, plus the orange seats, plus the harsh florescent lighting… it’s bad, man.

Happy Thanksgiving, from my ruptured corneas to yours!

Last weekend I took a trip to the Small Press Expo in Bethesda, Maryland. SPX is where all the cool kids go to talk about comics and art and how much they hate Walmart. I’ve spent the last seven years living in various far away lands, so I was excited to be able to attend this year. I packed my best five dollar blazer, a DSi for flipnotin’ on the go, and three porkroll sandwiches (consumed before I made it out of Philly). I did forget a few things, however:

1. My digital camera, which is why the only picture I have from the expo is the blurry cellphone shot above.
2. My self control, which is why I spent thousands of dollars on books.

The expo has apparently become much more popular since my last visit, which was probably a decade ago. Every booth was occupied, which made my goal of talking to each artist a bit of a pain. Still, I did it, and it only took about three hours. I found that there was an obvious conversational trend.

“Hi!”
“Uh… hi.”
“My name’s Zachary! Really nice to meet you. Can you tell me what your work is about?”
“Uhhhhhhh…”

I’m going to make this plea to any illustrator reading this blog: please, learn to talk about your work. Why did you create it? What was your inspiration? What’s the central theme? Why does it exist? I know you’re a shy art kid, but this is an expo. There are people walking around with money to spend, and they are looking for new and interesting experiences. Maybe your work is a new and interesting experience! Maybe they want to give you money! If you can explain, confidently, why your work is worthwhile, they will most likely consider it. Just try to put a little more effort into it than a shoulder shrug and some mumbling. At the very least look up from your sketchbook long enough to make eye contact.

Part of the problem is that I love comics for the storytelling rather than the art. SPX has a heavy focus on the visual component, so I might have freaked a few people out by ignoring their wares and jumping straight into asking for details. Hell, the Ignatz Awards — sort of like the Eisner, but for indies — has an “outstanding artist” category but nothing for “outstanding writer.” Which is fine; there are many different rhetorical modes of discourse to engage your audience with. Maybe I’m just a strange critic because I don’t care what your work looks like, I want to know what it has to say, and how the visuals work to communicate that.

One nice surprise at the show was seeing Emily Flake, whom I have been totally crushing on for a while now. She has a fantastic strip called Lulu Eightball that runs in the Baltimore City Paper every week… the premise is sort of feminist ideals juxtaposed with completely absurd situations. It’s very good. I tried to think up something really clever and funny to say to her, but all I could manage was “So, do I need to read volume one to understand what’s going on in volume two?” Which I guess is sort of funny, because the strips are mostly unrelated to one another. Alas, all I got was an “are you serious?” eyebrow raise. I was hoping for a “you are so funny and are exactly what I’m looking for in a friend and/or partner!” smile, but I’ll take what I can get. I bought a copy of Lulu Eightball Volume Two and then ran to the parking lot to chain smoke for a few hours.

I purchased many other books, and I’ll be making little posts as I read them (assuming they’re worth recommending).

Of course, the true evidence that this year’s Small Press Expo was a success: this weekend I am stuck in bed with H1N1. Again. I’ve always said that it’s not a party without a pandemic.