My First Comic Con, Two Hours of Sleep & A Bowl of Taystee Wheat

I spent most of the first half of 2026 going back and forth on whether or not I should take A Novel Idea to Comic Con. Several of my trusted friends and mentors recommended it after they heard I was planning to have a stall at Hobby-X in April/May, but I had never even attended a Comic Con event, so I had absolutely no idea what I was getting myself into.

Eventually, I decided to become an exhibitor. Even then, I was doubtful about the relevance of what I had to offer to a group of people who seemed to bring so much creativity to every single element of their attendance.

Day 1 opened my eyes to some of the most stunningly imaginative cosplay I have ever seen. It went well beyond anything I could have dreamed up. And while I was completely blown away, I still felt very much out of my depth.

Then, little by little, people started discovering A Novel Idea.

There is a moment when a reader finds something at my stand that they have needed forever, but never had a word or description for. Something I created because I am a proud and devoted reader who had exactly the same unnamed need and eventually decided to do something about it.

That moment of joy when somebody discovers it at my stand? I live for it.

The look on their faces — pure, unadulterated, exuberant wonderment.

It is the reason I have kept going with A Novel Idea. Even on the days when I feel like I am failing. Even on the days when the pull to go back to the relative ease of my once-successful corporate career feels overwhelming.

If I am honest, though, it was not all smooth sailing.

There were moments when I watched other stalls thriving and questioned why I was doing any of this. I was exhausted from running on two or three hours of sleep a night for several weeks while I prepared products and packaged everything for Comic Con. Then, during the event itself, I was still only getting two or three hours of sleep each night because apparently my brain had decided that worrying about failing the next day was a better use of the night than actually sleeping.

By the evening of Day 3, I was ready to give up.

I was nowhere near covering the cost of my Comic Con stand. I was exhausted. And I literally could not stop crying into the bowl of porridge I was eating for dinner.

Yes, Taystee Wheat is now the official dinner of champions since PepsiCo took away Pronutro.

And yes, I am still a child at 43. Go ahead, laugh at my natural state of chaos. But admit it: you too would like the freedom to eat porridge for dinner.

Sorry, my ADHD took the wheel for a moment. What was my point? Oh yes — I almost didn't show up on Day 4.

I almost gave in to the urge to stay in bed, feel like the ultimate failure and have a little pity party for one. But I thought about how books have been saving me since I was five years old. I thought about how, in South Africa, our literacy levels are falling and how public libraries are increasingly difficult to find and access. I thought about book bans in other countries and people spending too much time chasing dopamine hits from social media videos.

And I thought about the fact that my favourite books are dictionaries. Because apparently I can find fun in educational reading.

So, I pulled myself together, used some ice cubes on my swollen eyelids, and arrived at the Johannesburg Expo Centre with a renewed commitment to what I am trying to do.

I want to revive reading in every way that I can.

I want to make reading fun, whether you are a solo reader, a book clubber or a struggling reader. I want to create things that make people excited about books and reading. I want to build a community around that shared love of stories.

I want to start a movement.

And that movement needs me to keep showing up.

If you haven't read it yet, check out my Reader's Manifesto. It is where I started, and it is a reminder to me — and hopefully to anyone reading this — that reading matters.

Even when the numbers don't add up.

Even when you are exhausted.

Even when you are crying into your Taystee Wheat.

You keep showing up.

And if all else fails — read something.

Lose yourself in a story. Travel through time and space in a comic book. Challenge yourself with a choose-your-own-adventure. Find an online article about something you heard from a friend. Read the first blog post of some weirdo ex-corporate exec who is chasing her passion down every rabbit hole her ADHD brain finds.

The one thing this weirdo knows for sure?

The answer is definitely in the reading.