[[Exterior: A quaint rural abode.]]
JEN: Harold? I have a...well, I guess you would call it a confession.
JEN: I'm not really a 9/11 hero. I wasn't a survivor of the attack.
[[Interior]]
JEN: My fiancé, or in some accounts my husband, didn't die. There was a guy who died, but he wasn't my husband. We weren't wed in a secret Hawaiian ceremony. He was just a dude I was stalking. It was this whole big thing. But anyway.
JEN: I didn't return a dying man's wedding ring to his widow. I didn't start a charity for the orphaned children of firefighters. I wanted to, but it was hard.
JEN: Hard to let go of the spotlight. Everyone asking me if I was all right. Everyone caring about me for the first time. And...I'd like to think that maybe...you can still care about me, even after all this. Am I wrong?
JEN: Harold, get your hand out of your pants I am trying to be serious here
HAROLD: Sorry, I hear "I have a confession", it's like a Pavlovian thing.
{{header: come clean at WONDERMARK.COM}}
{{alt-text: therapy's going great, why do you ask?}}
therapy's going great, why do you ask?
The computers tell me it was 20 years ago, June 9, 2006, that I arrived in New York for my first-ever comic convention as an exhibitor, MoCCA.
It was an important trip for me, a milestone in what would go on to become my career.
I wrote a little reminiscence on Patreon (free/unlocked) — including a first-since-then reprint of the photocomics I made at the time, documenting the trip!
Read the rest here: [ 20 Years Ago (In Photocomic Form) ]
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