Matt Bolinger, creator of Dino Babies in Space, at Long Beach Comic Con. Photo by Cameron Knight.
By: Cameron Knight
Long Beach, CA (The Hollywood Times) 9/7/2026 – A fan stood at Matt Bolinger’s table watching him draw inside a copy of Dino Babies in Space. Bolinger signed the book, added a doodle, and handed it back across the table. The look on the fan’s face was impossible to miss. So was Bolinger’s.
When I asked him if a moment like that was what success looked like, his answer was immediate. “That’s pretty much the whole reason I’m doing this,” Bolinger said. “Being able to make something and connect with a fan is pretty much the coolest thing possible.”
Dino Babies in Space, the independent comic created by Matt Bolinger. Photo by Cameron Knight.
That exchange was happening all over Long Beach Comic Con, in different forms and across different fandoms. Compared with the overwhelming scale of the country’s largest conventions, the floor in Long Beach felt remarkably intimate. There was room to move, stop at a table, pick something up and, most importantly, talk to the person who made it. Cosplayers crossed paths with artists, readers met writers, and independent creators stood behind tables filled with objects that represented far more work than a passing glance could reveal.
Cass Parker’s table was one of those that stopped me. Among her handmade gaming art was a Zelda-inspired stained-glass piece unlike anything else around it except it wasn’t stained glass at all. Parker designed and 3D printed the frame, hand-tinted resin and filled hundreds of individual wells to build the piece from scratch. Resin takes roughly 24 hours to cure, which turned the project into a process that unfolded over several days. When a heat wave interfered with the resin, Parker eventually moved the whole operation inside and adjusted the temperature just to get it finished.
“You just see the finished thing and you maybe assume how much time went into it,” Parker said, “but there was a lot of time and a lot of care, and definitely, like, a lot of stress in getting it over the finish line.”
Cass Parker displays her handmade gaming art, including a Zelda-inspired stained-glass resin piece, at Long Beach Comic Con. Photo by Cameron Knight.
That invisible work was everywhere once I started asking about it. Jaclyn Olszewski of Original Zen Collective makes floral arrangements from recycled books, comics, and sheet music a business that began when she was broke and needed a gift for her book-loving sister. Today she makes eight varieties of flowers and teaches workshops where participants quickly learn that producing just two flowers can take three hours. Jessie Eichberger of Stay Magical Creations grew up working in watercolor before teaching herself digital art. Her boothmate, Valerie Morris, taught herself bookbinding through tutorials, professional binders and a lot of trial and error. Video-game artist Nicole Adamson talked about the years of knowledge hidden in something as seemingly simple as choosing the right paper, material, or texture for a piece.
Valerie Morris of Stay Magical Creations displays journals and books inspired by the fandoms she loves. Photo by Cameron Knight.
For Morris, the desire to make something physical was the reason she started bookbinding in the first place. During the pandemic, she was reading fan fiction and wanted to “have it and hold it.” She began formatting, printing, and sewing stories into actual books, then giving them to the fan-fiction authors for free. Eventually, that experimentation grew into the journals, rebound books and other work she now brings to conventions.
Video-game artist Nicole Adamson showcases her original artwork through her Neon Level brand at Long Beach Comic Con. Photo by Cameron Knight
There’s an obvious question in all of this. If artists can sell their work online and reach people around the world without ever leaving home, why pack everything into a booth and spend a weekend on a convention floor?
The answers were strikingly similar.
“When you’re online, there’s no face. There’s no conversation,” said the creator behind Rowan Arts, who makes her own embroidered apparel, keychains, stickers, and other fandom merchandise. Eichberger described the online experience as “kind of sterile.” Adamson said meeting people in person creates “a real connection.”
And then there was Dungeon Crawler Carl.
Dungeon Crawler Carl-inspired floral arrangements created from recycled book pages by Original Zen Collective. Photo by Cameron Knight.
Once I noticed it, I started seeing it everywhere shirts, sweaters, embroidered patches, pins, bookmarks, and keychains. Book-inspired art and handmade floral arrangements. Booths that seemed to have nothing to do with Dungeon Crawler Carl suddenly had something connected to Carl, Princess Donut or the world created by author Matt Dinniman. Things you would not think would be Dungeon Crawler Carl absolutely were.
Finn, dressed as Carl with Princess Donut on his shoulder, shows off Dungeon Crawler Carl artwork at Long Beach Comic Con. Photo by Cameron Knight.
Talking to the creators revealed something more interesting than merchandise chasing a popular fandom. Many of the people making it were serious fans themselves. The creator behind Rowan Arts told me she had already read the series three times. Eichberger said a friend introduced her to the books over the past year, and she became particularly attached to the way Carl continues to protect people as the world around him grows increasingly hostile. Olszewski created Dungeon Crawler Carl arrangements using pages from the books, carefully selecting some of her favorite quotes to work into the finished pieces.
It was fandom creating more fandom: a reader connects with a story, turns that enthusiasm into something of their own, brings it into the physical world and puts it on a table. Another fan recognizes it, stops walking, and suddenly two strangers have something to talk about.
But the connections at Long Beach Comic Con weren’t limited to the people on opposite sides of the table.
Eichberger remembered an earlier convention where she and Morris were still figuring out how to build their booth. The structure fell over, sending their display scattering across the floor. It was embarrassing but before they could handle the disaster alone, the surrounding vendors came over to help pick everything up.
“We all talk to each other, and, like, we all cover each other,” Eichberger said. Vendors keep an eye on neighboring booths when someone needs food, a bathroom break or simply a moment away the people technically competing for the same convention dollars often end up looking after one another instead.
Olszewski described an even more personal version of that community. She moved to Long Beach two years ago, and said her business became a bridge to bookstore owners, fellow vendors, book clubs, retreats, and friendships. That community also helped carry her through the days when being an independent creator felt considerably less magical.
The Hollywood Times contributor Cameron Knight with Jaclyn Olszewski of Original Zen Collective at Long Beach Comic Con. Photo courtesy of Jason King @JasonUpLate
At a recent outdoor market in Long Beach, on a roughly 100-degree day, Olszewski sold nothing.
“I had a zero-dollar day, and I cried a little bit on the inside and on the outside,” she said. “And I said, ‘Why am I doing this? This is so hard.’”
That night, an Etsy order worth roughly $300 arrived.
Yet when asked what ultimately keeps her doing the work, Olszewski didn’t point to the sale. “I don’t think I’ll ever really give this up,” she said. “The biggest part that keeps me in it is, and this is so cheesy, but it’s the community that I’ve built. My whole community, like, lives in the pages.”
That sense of success came up again and again, and it did not always look like the traditional image of an independent artist waiting to be discovered. Adamson already works professionally in video games but at a studio, she’s often asked to create within a specific visual style. Behind her own Artist Alley table, she can show people the work that actually looks like her. “Some of us just want to create work because we absolutely love it,” Adamson said.
For her, success is seeing someone’s face when the art connects with them. For Bolinger, it’s getting to meet the person who will take his book home. And for Morris, there wasn’t much hesitation when I asked what success looked like. “This is it,” she said. “I’m having a great time. As long as I’m happy and we’re making other people happy, that’s a success.”
By the end of the day, the tables at Long Beach Comic Con looked different to me. The books, pins, flowers, resin pieces and handmade objects were still there but so were the hours nobody sees, the failed attempts, the new skills, the friendships and the people who keep showing up because they love making something for someone else who might love it too.
Online, a creator can reach thousands of people without ever seeing their faces. Across a convention table, sometimes success is getting to see just one.
“You get that in person,” Bolinger said. “It can’t be beat.”