Chapter 1 Begins: The Black Atlanta Comic Expo Is Here

Atlanta did not need another comic convention. It needed its own.

On October 31 and November 1, the Black Atlanta Comic Expo — B.A.C.E. — launches at the Crowne Plaza Atlanta NE in Norcross, billing itself as Chapter 1 of Atlanta's premier Black comic convention. Two days of vendors, panels, cosplay, Artist Alley, interactive workshops, and a guest list that reads like a syllabus for Black sequential art: Stephanie Williams, one of the top comic voices working today; Marcus Williams, Atlanta's own superstar illustrator; Alitha Martinez, one of the most prolific Black female artists in the industry; Joe Illidge, a writer and veteran editor with more than 30 years in the business; Dawud Anyabwile, director and illustrator; and local luminaries Keef Cross, Milton Davis, and Robert Jeffrey.

The organizer is Greg Burnham, co-creator of the hit series Tuskegee Heirs and a graduate of DC Comics' Milestone Initiative. His framing is simple, and it is the whole pitch: "We built this space to highlight the incredible level of talent, artistry, and heritage within our community. Whether you're a lifelong collector, an aspiring artist, or coming out in costume for Halloween, there is something here for everyone."

That last clause matters, because B.A.C.E. lands on Halloween weekend on purpose. Costumes are encouraged for attendees of all ages, with treat bags for the little ones — and, as the expo's own site puts it, a full expectation that Atlanta will live up to its reputation as the cosplay capital of the world. A convention that opens on Halloween is not competing with the holiday. It is using it: the one weekend a year when dressing as your favorite character is not a statement but a social norm, and the barrier between fan and creator is at its thinnest.

But the deeper story is infrastructure. Comics are where a huge share of Black visual storytelling starts — before the film deal, before the animated series, before the merch. A convention dedicated to Black creators is not just a fan event; it is a marketplace, a classroom, and a hiring hall at once. Artist Alley is where an aspiring illustrator meets the editor who might publish them. A panel on getting a story "out of your head and onto the page" is a craft lesson that costs a fraction of a course. A kid in costume meeting the artist who drew their hero is a career beginning, whether anyone in the room calls it that yet.

Atlanta is the right city for that infrastructure, and not only because of its convention history. The city's Black creative economy already runs on the same logic B.A.C.E. is formalizing: make the work, gather the community, sell it directly, and let the audience — not a gatekeeper — decide what lasts. A comic expo is that logic with a floor plan.

The expo's own mission statement says it plainly: to create a dynamic and inclusive space for fans and professionals alike, celebrating Black comics, creators, cosplayers, gamers, and animation. Chapter 1 is the test. If the room fills — and on Halloween weekend, in this city, it should — Chapter 2 writes itself.

So here is the move: go as a fan, leave as a student. Walk Artist Alley slowly. Ask an artist how they broke in. Buy the independent book, not just the big-publisher variant. The difference between a convention and a community is what you take home and what you do with it on Monday.

Which Black comic, creator, or character shaped you first — and are you pulling up to B.A.C.E. in costume? Tell us below.