So, just by chance, I found out that Will Pfeifer is from Rockford, IL. In fact, he writes for Rockford's local newspaper (movie columns, which should give you some idea about the genesis of Film Freak).
This is unbelievably cool.
See, where I am right now (home for the holidays), I'm less than an hour and a half from Rockford. I have a Rockford Area Code. In theory, I could call Will Pfeifer right now, and it would barely be long distance.
I won't call, though, because that would be slightly more than moderately creepy.
"Yes, um, hello, may I speak to the incredibly awesome Will Pfeifer?"
"Oh, um, Mr. Pfeifer, you're incredibly awesome."
"I know. Thank you."
"So, how many kidneys should I sell to get DC to bring back H-E-R-O? Should I start with one, or should I be getting them in bulk?"
Yeah, creepy. But plausible. I don't really have a problem with getting starstruck, per se, but I find that I don't usually think of anything to say around famous people. I just kind of stand there awkwardly until I get comfortable, which is usually long after they've finished signing my whatever I've given them to sign. Though I managed to have a decent (albeit brief) conversation with Geoff Johns at WizardWorld, I suppose.
So, um, right. The point is, one of my current favorite comic writers, a guy whose books consistently find their way into my "first reads" pile, lives within a short drive of my house. Not only is that supremely fantastic, but it gives me a certain degree of hope for my own comic-writing ambitions.
By the way, Mr. Pfeifer, in an age when comic writers have problems cranking out one script in thirty days, how do you manage at least one monthly title, usually a miniseries in addition, and a regular newspaper column?
It's writers like Pfeifer and Simone who make the chronically-late look bad.