One (reported) sale.
A college friend (and retired assistant D.A.) in upstate New York advised in a note with his Xmas (Take that, Donald Trump) card that he’d (a) had prostate cancer (Prognosis: “Excellent”) and (b) purchased “The Schiz.” (He made no mention of having read any, but that would have placed him among a rarer breed.)
In other news, I see two pieces I wrote for “The Comic Journal” made its Best of 2017 list. That was nice, (but I can’t truthfully say they were ones – even among mine – I would have picked).
Also I received an e-mail from an attorney with a Northern California law firm asking if I would be interested in testifying as an “expert” in a copyright case involving comic books. “Let’s talk,” said I.
I have been tagged as both a comics “critic” and a comics “historian,” both of which put a twinkle in my eye – and neither of which are how I see myself (though I understand how others might drape those robes upon me); but being an actual judicially-certified “expert”… Now that would be a step up in weight class. (Not to mention billing-by-the-hour out-performing peddling my wares in cafes. And think of the employment opportunities. I could advertise in the classified pages of the Bar journal, along with the PhDs in structural engineering and chemistry and neuro-biology.)
So while the inquiring attorney and I have been playing “phone tag” (A phrase I haven’t encountered since I was in practice – and hated then), I’ve been mentally bolstering my credentials – and imagining the witty repartee by which I’ll dazzle the opposition when cross-examined.
Of course, I don’t yet know the issue, let alone which side I’ll be on.
No matter. Paladin is I. Have Gun Will Travel.