I’m Celebrating Comic-Con With My 25 Comics About Superheroes, Comics, And Pop Culture

The sheer, electric buzz of anticipation that fills the air every summer is unmistakable it’s Comic-Con season. For fans, creators, and dreamers around the globe, the very mention of Comic-Con conjures images of bustling convention halls, breathtaking cosplay, and the shared, pulsing heartbeat of pop culture fandom. It’s more than an event; it’s a pilgrimage, a temporary city built on imagination. This year, like so many before, I felt that familiar pull, but I wanted to mark the occasion in a way that was uniquely personal, a tribute from one fan to the vast, wonderful community. So, I’m throwing my own kind of party, celebrating Comic-Con from my desk by sharing 25 original comics about superheroes, comics, and the pop culture tapestry we all love. This project is my love letter to the convention, a way to channel that collective excitement into something tangible and, I hope, relatable.

The idea sparked from a simple, recurring thought: what do we all take away from Comic-Con? Beyond the exclusive footage and limited-edition collectibles, it’s the stories. It’s the anecdote about finally meeting the artist who inspired you to pick up a pencil, the shared laugh with a stranger over a perfectly executed but deeply obscure cosplay, or the quiet moment of awe in a panel when a creator reveals the heartfelt message behind their work. My goal with these 25 comics was to capture those micro-stories, the tiny, authentic human experiences that happen in the shadow of the gigantic studio banners. Each strip is a snapshot, a single panel or a short sequence meant to evoke a smile, a nod of recognition, or that warm feeling of being understood by someone who just gets it.

Let’s talk about superheroes, the undeniable titans of any Comic-Con. My comics delve into the delightfully mundane side of possessing world-altering powers. Imagine a superhero, cape billowing dramatically, using their heat vision for the sole purpose of perfectly toasting a bagel for a disappointed sidekick who just wanted a simple breakfast. Picture a massive, city-level threat being abruptly put on hold because the entire hero team realizes their crucial strategy meeting conflicts with the season finale of their favorite reality baking show. These aren’t jabs at the genre; they’re celebrations of it. By placing these iconic, larger-than-life characters in hilariously ordinary situations, we’re reminded of why we love them they’re our modern mythology, and even gods can have relatable quirks and bad days.

Of course, the comic book industry itself, the very engine of this culture, provides endless material. One of my favorite comics in this series depicts a seasoned comic book shop owner calmly explaining the convoluted, decades-long retcon history of a B-list villain to a wide-eyed new customer, using a complex flowchart that eventually just circles back to “because the writer thought it was cool.” Another shows two artists at a convention booth, one digitally painting at lightning speed on a tablet, the other meticulously hatching with a nib pen on paper, sharing a silent, respectful nod a tribute to the evolving yet timeless art of visual storytelling. These moments honor the craft, the history, and the passionate debates over continuity that are as much a part of Comic-Con as the lines for Hall H.

The pop culture sphere that Comic-Con encompasses stretches far beyond four-color pages. It’s a sprawling universe of films, TV shows, video games, and anime, all colliding in a beautiful, chaotic mess. One comic illustrates the universal convention experience of trying to have a deep, philosophical debate about a cult classic film’s director’s cut while being constantly jostled by a parade of Darth Vaders, Spider-People, and anime characters. Another pokes gentle fun at the specific agony and ecstasy of the convention exclusive, showing a fan’s journey from militant determination to secure a rare item, to the sheer panic of carrying it around all day without damaging it, to the final, serene triumph of placing it on a shelf at home. This tapestry of references and obsessions is what makes the atmosphere at Comic-Con so uniquely dense and intoxicating.

Creating these 25 pieces was an exercise in joyful observation. I thought about the cosplayers, not just the finished product, but the process the frantic last-minute glue-gunning at 3 AM, the pride in explaining how a prop was built from foam and PVC pipe, the unspoken rule of asking for photos. A comic captures the quiet heroism of a parent who has painstakingly crafted a full Mandalorian armor set for their toddler, who is now more interested in a passing balloon vendor. I remembered the artists in Artists’ Alley, their tables a vulnerable display of a year’s worth of heart and labor. One of my strips shows an artist selling a print to a fan, their brief transaction blooming into a five-minute conversation about a shared, obscure favorite character, creating a fleeting but genuine connection that epitomizes the spirit of the con.

The sensory overload of Comic-Con is its own character. The soundscape is a constant low roar punctuated by lightsaber hums, movie trailer bass, and the occasional Klingon declamation. The visuals are a riot of color, texture, and artistry, from hyper-realistic movie replica costumes to minimalist, stylized indie comic posters. My comics try to frame this chaos through a single, focused lens: a security guard on a coffee break, watching the surreal parade with a look of bemused acceptance, or a first-time attendee sitting in a hallway, just soaking it all in, their face a mixture of overwhelm and pure joy. These quiet perspectives are crucial; they’re the deep breaths amidst the storm, reminding us that the event is a collection of individual experiences.

There’s also an undeniable meta-layer to creating comics about Comic-Con while celebrating Comic-Con. It’s a hall of mirrors reflecting our own fandom back at us. In drawing these scenarios, I found myself chronicling not just hypotheticals, but my own memories the fatigue that hits you at 4 PM, the surprising generosity of strangers sharing hand sanitizer or snack tips, the collective gasp in a panel when a surprise guest is announced. This project became a personal archive, a way to process and honor the cumulative joy of years of attending, both in person and in spirit. Each comic is a time capsule, preserving the feeling of a specific moment in this ever-evolving culture.

What truly binds the Comic-Con experience together, more than any franchise or IP, is the people. It’s the ultimate rebuttal to the outdated stereotype of the solitary fan. Here, solitude transforms into community. You’ll see strangers become fast friends while debating casting choices in a queue. You’ll witness seasoned collectors gently mentoring newcomers on preservation techniques. You’ll feel the wave of supportive applause for a cosplayer who has overcome their shyness to embody their hero. My comics aim to highlight this humanity. One simply shows two people with mismatched halves of a “Best Friends” necklace finding each other in a crowd, having connected online months prior to split the cost of a convention exclusive. It’s a small story about a big feeling: belonging.

This sense of shared space, both physical and metaphorical, is what makes the modern Comic-Con phenomenon so resilient. Even as the event has grown into a media juggernaut, at its core, it remains a county fair for the imagination. My artistic celebration taps into that core. Whether it’s a comic about the profound struggle of choosing which single graphic novel to buy when your budget is spent, or the existential dread of a simple autograph seeker realizing their favorite writer is sitting alone at a table with no line (do you go over? What do you say?), the focus is on the emotional truth of the attendee. These are the stories that don’t make the entertainment news headlines, but they are the stories that make the community.

As I assembled this collection, I was constantly mindful of balance. The tone had to walk the line between affectionate humor and genuine respect. Poking fun at the absurdities of fandom is easy; doing it with love requires a lighter touch. It’s the difference between laughing at someone and laughing with them, because you’ve been there. You’ve been the person who packed three different pairs of shoes for a day of walking. You’ve mispronounced a character’s name in front of an exacting veteran fan. You’ve felt that bittersweet pang on the last day, wandering the emptying halls. These comics are, in essence, a series of “you too?” moments, designed to build that bridge of shared experience.

The act of sharing this work during Comic-Con season is also a nod to the evolving nature of how we experience these events. Not everyone can make the journey to San Diego, New York, or London. For many, the celebration happens online, through live streams, social media updates, and virtual artist alleys. By publishing these comics now, I’m hoping to extend the communal table, to offer a piece of the fun to someone following along from home. It’s a digital high-five, a way to say that the spirit of Comic-Con isn’t confined to a convention center; it lives in the conversations, the creations, and the shared passion that flourishes year-round, everywhere.

In the end, this project of 25 comics is about gratitude. It’s a thank you to the artists whose panels inspired awe, to the writers whose words built worlds in my mind, to the cosplayers whose dedication turns sidewalks into runways, and to every other fan whose presence creates the atmosphere. Celebrating Comic-Con in this way felt like the most authentic contribution I could make. It’s not a studio-backed spectacle, but a handmade token, offered back to the community that has provided so much inspiration and joy. Each comic is a reminder that behind every mask, behind every poster, behind every screen, there’s a person who found a home in these stories.

The process reinforced a fundamental truth about pop culture fandom: it is a powerful, positive force for creativity and connection. The drive to create, to discuss, to dress up, and to collect stems from a deep appreciation for storytelling. My comics are a direct output of that drive. They are the result of consuming wonderful stories and feeling compelled to add my own voice to the chorus, however small it may be. This is the beautiful cycle that events like Comic-Con perpetuate they are not just marketplaces, but incubators. They take the spark of fandom and fan it into a flame that lights new projects, new friendships, and new perspectives.

So, as the banners are hung and the schedules are finalized for another unforgettable Comic-Con, I invite you to explore these 25 little windows into our shared world. They are slices of life from the frontier of imagination, where the mundane and the miraculous constantly collide. Whether you see yourself in the overwhelmed newbie, the seasoned pro with a rolling suitcase full of snacks, or the artist hoping their work resonates with just one person, I hope these strips bring a smile to your face. They are my way of raising a glass (or a novelty lightsaber cup) to the magic, the madness, and the immense heart of the gathering. This is my celebration, a hand-drawn, heartfelt salute to the community, the creativity, and the enduring, incredible spirit of Comic-Con that brings us all together, year after wonderful year.

I’m Celebrating Comic-Con With My 25 Comics About Superheroes, Comics, And Pop Culture