Now I want to tell the story of meeting my editor for the first time:
It was San Diego Comic Con, and I was on my first ever panel, which was held in the first few minutes of the first day. I’d never been to SDCC before and had little idea what to expect. Not to mention there was some unusual social interaction there that I didn’t have time to process. So I did my best, but I was a bit of a mess.
Then I looked out into the audience and saw my editor in an aisle seat, watching the panel. I’d already looked her up with Google Images (anything to procrastinate!) and recognized her instantly. Of course, seeing my editor out in the audience made me feel even more confident and calm.
Oh wait. I mean just the opposite.
Anyway, I flubbed a bit and rambled a bit more. I had some buddies in the audience (who had basically held my hand through the travel and badge-acquiring process) but I tried not to look too much at any of them.
Then, after the panel was over, I walked up to her and introduced myself. She lied and said I did well, and I felt kinda awkward.
Then one of my buddies (the one with the hammer) ran up to us and said, in a very loud voice, “Mr. Connolly! Mr. Connolly! Would you sign my girlfriend’s breasts?”
That’s what happened the first time I met my editor.
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