This past Saturday, I participated in a one-day mini-con, by way of fellow multi-hyphenate Rob Southgate. I did the show alone — with Unshaven Matt Wright and Kyle Gnepper both tending to some family needs. Expectations weren’t exactly for much more than making table, but that came directly from Rob himself. It was a testing the waters show with the date, timing, and venue.
While I don’t think I’d necessarily call the show a success… I’ve been tabling at cons now for seventeen and a half years, and in that time, I’ve learned that every show can be a winner if you look hard enough.
If only for a single interaction on the day, this show was a success for me. It absolutely knocked loose the annual fervent ennui of being an independent creator. Before I grab your hand, and we dive down the rabbit hole, let me explain how we got here.
Maybe an hour or two into the short show, a pair of lads entered the con. Given that we were a motley crew of eleven or so tables packed into the lobby of a northern suburban theater, it didn’t take long for the guys to make their way past my table. The taller half of the pair smirked a knowing smirk. Ahh, the telltale sign that we’d crossed paths before.
“So, where’s the “Can I tell you about my comic?” sign, man?” he boisterously teased me. I offered a congenial retort that sans-Kyle, I was welcome to conduct business in a more low-key manner. After swapping some fun nerdy-barbs, the fan turned to his buddy to pitch our Samurnauts to him. He was pitch perfect, and flipped through our trade, hitting on all the best selling points. And then, he turned to the last page, and pointed towards the bottom corner.
“Well? Where’s the sequel!”
The corner in question teased the would-be next chapter of those particularly future focused Samurnauts… the keenly titled “Night of the Ninjanauts” (because every great color-coded warrior team needs to eventually face nefarious doppelgangers, right?). I offered a meek apology, and mentioned how if we played our cards right, Unshaven Comics might have a new trade-worthy Samurnauts title by the end of the year. Upon pressing me for details, I admitted it wasn’t the teased follow-up his mighty finger continued to press on… but a collection of time-hopping Number One issues that would see leaps across the Samurverse if you will. He didn’t bite the bait.
“That sounds cool man, no doubt. Love it. But man… I’m waiting for Ninjanauts!”. 
Using my predilection for my comedic chops, I was able to joke my way out of further wriggling. Once you mention the sheer number of children between Matt, Kyle, and myself, most anyone takes the hint and moves on. But between us? It was just smoke and mirrors. Sure, our comic book production line has certainly not sped up over time, but I honestly don’t chalk that up wholly to being three suburban dads who love their kids. And while I took in about three-fifths of Gary Gulman’s The Great Depresh on my solo drive home… that creeping crippling feeling tiptoed in.
Just as I’d denoted back in 2021, listening to comedy albums alone in my minivan is likely a bad idea I can’t stop indulging in.
Facts are facts though. So there I sat on I- 294 asking myself where the hell are the Ninjanauts, anyways? An always sober me answered me plain-and-pragmatically: The Night of the Ninjanauts can’t even be outlined until our Tales from the Samurverse are completed. And that tome is still essentially eight issues away from that reality. And anyone who wants to figure out how long it takes my studio to produce a single issue should do so without telling me the truth. I’m trying to maintain sanity and a positive approach to life.
The regretful fact is our lone Samurnauts trade — the one that is the economical lynchpin of our earning potential at any given con — is eight years old. And not for nothing, it holds up as well in 2026 as it did in 2018. I’ll defend that stance like [name of sports guy] defends against [other sports guy]. It took me the better part of four years to produce twenty-four pages of Samurnauts: To the Max #1. I’m proud AF of that floppy copy… but I know that without the context of other tales around it, it’s not as poignant. One of the most important selling points of our anchor series is how it’s able to tell stories across time. To the Max is meant to sit next to Rage of Repsimian and La Noche del Las Luchanauts in a volume that inevitably showcases our theory in a well-thought out anthology block. As I said above though… only a third of the first issues are even a thing.
Rage of Repsimian is actually in production right now, and going smoothly. I am confident in saying it’ll be print-ready by the time we are pulling into GalaxyCon OKC in late May. The money we’ll make there will fund its first printing, and it will sit on our rack next to To the Max by the time we’re back in Atlanta for Dragon-Con 2026. Matt himself is rounding third base on the pencilling of Luchanauts as well, so, we’re close to having something collectable-and-profitable perhaps by year’s end. And there’s the rub.
Unshaven Comics has always been our permanent side-hustle. A business originally born with the notion that three guys would be able to knock on the door of the comic book industry, and be let in with three full-time jobs awaiting them to make content. That dream shattered with a year or two of touring with our then lone book, The March: Crossing Bridges in America. Back in those early days of our company (when the logo boasted that I’d wear a newsboy cap, ugh), we would spend one or two evenings a week together working on comics. Matt would be pencilling and inking. I’d be working on colors or lettering. Kyle would write. The three of us would kibbitz, break to play a few rounds of Versus TCG, and end a weekend with forward momentum. This goes until eventually we’re no longer a few minutes away from one another geographically. Sure, we work independently and see one another plenty… but the vibe is never the same again.
Soon enough, we three marry, and become dads. Then we become dads again. And some of us become dads 2 more times because we apparently love stress. Unshaven Comics morphs less into a dream, and more into what it remains. A bit of an escape. A bit of an excuse to be with one another. And yes, still that hopeful plucky trio of idiots hoping they pitch to the right people, and see their creations become larger than life. It’s just that now we’re old enough to recognize that hope springs eternal… but pragmatism preaches that you have to take care of everyone before yourself.
Night of the Ninjanauts may never actually become a reality, if I’m really going to be honest. The original models for my portion of it (and to be fair, Unshaven Comics hasn’t even outlined if the book would split art the way Curse of the Dreadnuts did) are now a full decade and change older than when originally captured for reference. Some have gotten married. Others divorced. Some are new-found parents. Some don’t live anywhere near me now. Re-assembling them in and of itself could be a logistic nightmare. And while the siren song of AI might lure me to attempt to create artificial models? Read my thoughts on that to understand why I’m not exactly apt to leap into the Oracle’s arms to do so. And given that our current production line is spoken for… for at least 5+ years if I continue to not blow smoke? Well. I can’t say plainly that it’s a promise. If someone with a ton of money wants us to make that promise? We take PayPal, Venmo, CashApp, and gold coins in a leather pouch tied to the claw of a raven.
Unshaven Comics will remain where I live my dream life: running a company alongside my two best friends of over 30 years, producing work by our hands (and the trusted hands of other awesome folks willing to work with us). Because of this company, I have visited cities and places I’d never have had any reason to, broken bread with industry veterans, and made lifelong friends of some of them (hello, everyone here at PopCultureSquad!!!). I am forever pleased as punch and proud as hell of what we’ve been able to accomplish since producing The March in 2008. We have sold literally tens of thousands of copies of our work to tens of thousands of awesome people. I recognize that the comic industry itself rarely can support even a healthy duo, let alone a trio of midwestern gargoyles such as ourselves. No one in the industry ever had the heart to break it to us either. So, side hustle it shall stay, and none of us would have it any other way.
Does it mean I don’t still sit listless sometimes and think about the path not taken? The life not led? Perhaps. But for every dream I didn’t chase — from pursuing comedy enough to attempt a run at writing for Saturday Night Live, to ever going wholly solo as a marketer to become an agency, to figuring out how to work in professional wrestling akin to Paul Heyman — I recognize those dreams don’t consider the real amazing things I’ve gotten to do just being Marc Alan Fishman of Unshaven Comics. I married an amazing woman whose TikTok transitions still make my heart skip a beat. I am a father to a soon-to-be high schooler who just earned a division 1 medal at a singing competition. I am a father of a soon-to-be fifth grader who draws better than I ever did at 10. I am a father of a soon-to-be third grader who still giggles at me just for making a funny face. I am father of a little queen who still melts my heart every time she hugs me.
Annual ennui spiral defeated. See everyone at the next con.
