Month: November 2014

Creating comics can be rewarding, but also stressful. Even in a relatively low-impact environment such as a free weekly webcomic, Dawn and I feel that pressure to perform, to deliver on the unspoken contract we have with our readers. Occasionally, such as this week, we just can’t manage to put out a new page of comic. Last time it was a result of my aunt’s death— this time, a more amorphous confluence of affairs came together. Nothing too dire, mind you (don’t worry!), but enough that it became another circumstance of weighing just how much we felt able to push ourselves. There was much stress. Dawn left it ultimately up to me, so I suppose I bear the responsibility for hitting the proverbial emergency release valve and stopping production temporarily.

I’ve talked in the past of how I’ve watched several webcomics die because of creator burnout. We’ve done our best to avoid that, and I think a very important part of the process has been a willingness to bend so that we don’t break.

I don’t want to end up like Dave Sim, pushing himself to do a page of Cerebus every day until he wound up having a breakdown and being checked into a psychiatric ward. And speaking much more recently, there was the matter of Roc Upchurch being arrested for domestic abuse.

I’m not going to weigh in on the morals of the case, there’s been plenty of talk on that. It’s  a tragedy for everyone involved, and I might be talking out of my ass to say so, but I would venture to say that from reading the statements from Upchurch and his wife, Roc… might not have been handling his sudden success well. Would the marriage have frayed regardless of Rat Queens becoming a critical and popular success? It’s possible. But as far as I know Upchurch was the sole artist on the book, meaning he would have been in the same position Dawn is, responsible for penciling, inking, coloring, backgrounds— every page, every panel— but instead of a page a week, he’s having to provide that work on a book that comes out on a monthly or bimonthly schedule. Sure, a lot of comics put out an issue a month, but they’re worked on by entire teams, and still most don’t measure up to the level of quality Upchurch was consistently providing. Your mileage may vary, but for my money it was pretty sweet stuff, easily comparable to the best the Big Two would be putting out with far more staff involved.

Unfortunately it doesn’t seem like keeping up with that jibed well with being a husband and father of three kids, especially once the book became a hit and brought with it the requisite convention appearances and signings. It doesn’t really excuse what happened, especially since there are some people who seem to be able to handle it fine, but not everyone has that kind of ability.  In Upchurch’s case there was a cost, and that cost included being taken off the book by his co-creator, writer Kurtis Wiebe. Wiebe released a statement saying the comic will continue, but it’s clear Rat Queens won’t ever and indeed, can’t ever be the same. This is a shame, but it pales in comparison to real people hurting each other. Wiebe weighed his decision and made it, and Upchurch now has some downtime. Perhaps much too late for anyone’s good.

There’s no schadenfreude to be had, here, just sadness. As a creator, some amount of stress is inevitable, and even necessary. But this is just the latest incident to drive home to me that constantly pushing yourself or your partner(s) past the breaking point does no one any good in the long run. So better to bend from time to time, instead of letting pressure build up until someone snaps.

I once went to see the Eisner awards ceremony at San Diego Comic-Con and it seemed like every other person getting up on the stage was being introduced as “the hardest working wo/man in comics”. I’ll probably never have someone say that about me without a heavy dose of sarcasm attached, but under the circumstances, I continue to be okay with that.

I’m a member of a few different webcomic communities, and it seems like not a week goes by that someone will speak up about feeling how they’re feeling depressed with the state of their creative efforts. Sometimes it’s tied in with asking for advice on how they can get more readers, or more exposure, or somehow make some money off of this thing they’ve been pouring their blood, sweat, and tears into. Sometimes it’s just a cry for help and commiseration, seeking solace from fellow travelers who might understand the craziness of spending week after week, month after month, even year after year hurling a story out into the blind void of the Internet. “How do you keep going?”, comes the refrain, and no matter how many times it’s asked, the question is answered with compassion and patience. I suspect this is because we know we might be wailing that question ourselves before long, even if we don’t necessarily post it on Facebook. If we’ve already thought it through and answered it for someone else, then that answer will be there, echoing back to us, when we need it most.

Oddly enough, this is similar to a technique used by professional psychiatric counselors. “Doc,” the patient will say, “I feel my sibling is overstepping their boundaries with me when they put their hands in my pockets, tear out my phone, wallet, and keys, and throw them into the swimming pool, but I feel bad confronting them about it.” Now the doctor could just tell them what a damn wuss they’re being, but they’re already in a bit of a sensitive state— plus also paying for the session. So instead the doctor will ask something akin to, “What advice would you give to someone that was happening to?” Whereupon the patient answers, “Oh. Hmm. Well doc, I reckon I’d tell them to choke out that sibling like Anderson Silva on fight night.”

I don’t know if there’s any specific sociological or psychiatric term for this phenomenon, but it doesn’t seem like rocket science to observe that people are far more able to comment on and analyze situations that they’re not hip deep in the middle of. You know that bad relationship your friend is in, and you and all your other friends can totally see it but they can’t? Perhaps you’ve been that friend in the relationship? Remember when things finally fell apart and everything was a house of cards and you wondered why no one ever told you, and then you realized that all the signs were there and your friends had tried to warn you but you just ignored everything until it was too late?

Where was I? Oh yes. Basically what I’m getting at is that sooner or later everyone making a webcomic is going to experience that existential time of frustration and depression where they wonder what it’s all about and whether they should keep going, and when it hits, you’d best believe digging yourself out of that hole isn’t just a matter of turning on the “positive thinkin'” switch, because the positive thoughts are going to be hard to come by. Unless those thoughts are already out there, waiting to bounce back to you. If you’ve helped others, if you recognize that what you’re going through is not unique, you may be better equipped to step back and ask yourself “How ya doin’?”, and give a more honest accounting of that than you would otherwise.

Or if you’re really lucky(?), you could be The Tick.

The Tick (seeing a giant statue of himself) Whoa! What is that?
Tick’s Mind: Oh, sure. Now you wanna know. Tick, this is your self-image.
The Tick: Hey, I look pretty good.
Tick’s Mind: You can ask it only one question.
The Tick: Uh, what question?
Tick’s Mind: The “why are we here” question!
The Tick: Oh, right. (to statue How ya doin’?
(statue gives a thumbs-up)
Tick’s Mind: That’s your big question?
The Tick: Hey, thumbs up! We’re doin’ good!

I’d leave it at that, though, or little blue men might jump out to hit you with fish.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y3lPhq0Ky_M

Dawn and I have now been exhibiting at various conventions for over five years. We’ve come a long way from where we started, and learned a lot, but I still have to admit this:

I have no idea how we’re going to do, sales-wise, at a given show. Even if it’s the exact same show and just a different year.

It’s possible this is because we’re not being meticulous enough in tracking our data, or just still don’t have enough data to work with, but if you look around at the veterans of the independent press circuit, you’ll often notice that it’s not just comics that they have for sale. There will be art prints, postcards, mugs, jewelry, buttons, t-shirts, plushies, etc. etc., all in a variety of price ranges. The net is cast wide, and although their brand is incorporated into the merch, it is hardly ever the primary selling point. You’re selling to people who like steampunk, or zombies, or unicorns, and while you hope the pendant they just bought might serve as a gateway drug to them getting into your brand or at least becoming a repeat customer to your table, for the moment it’s enough that they’re helping fund you being able to get a repeat table.

Sometimes they’ll want to buy the comics. Sometimes prints. Sometimes t-shirts. Sometimes Dawn will have to turn away people wanting sketch commissions because she’s already too busy with them, sometimes she goes an entire convention without anyone even talking to her. And this, my friends and neighbors, is why we diversify our selection. Even the types of prints people might be buying can vary wildly, sometimes with no apparent rhyme or reason. You can sit there and theorize all day, but in the end the only safe bet seems to be to spread your bets out as much as possible.

And well, sometimes even the safe bet isn’t safe. Sometimes you get bad placement at a show, or people just plain aren’t in a buying mood. And you will lose money on those. But as one of my fellow travelers told me: “We keep at it, and hope the good shows make up for the bad ones.” They’d been at it for over ten years at that point, and though they had a rocky start (as it seems we all do), in recent times have always ended the convention year more up than down.

So if you’re going to be an exhibitor, or are one already and have had some rough times, just keep that in mind.

Every so often I think that I posted something in these blogs that, on further research, seems to be a figment of my imagination. For example, it does not appear that I ever talked about WonderCon 2013, or at least my experience of finally, *finally* meeting Jim Steranko and getting his autograph, something I’d been trying to do for years. As a general rule, I don’t like standing in lines, and I’m also reluctant to meet anyone whose work I admire in person, because hey— sometimes they turn out to be assholes. Steranko is one of the few that I felt was worth both the time and the risk.

Alas, it turned out the particular collection of Nick Fury, Agent of SHIELD stories I had brought for him to sign dredged up some bad blood. It turned out to be something Marvel screwed him on, using a loophole of publishing in Europe so they didn’t have to pay him any royalties. I had no idea. Thankfully, he still signed it for me, but only in exchange for a charity donation. In the case of some others I’d seen interact ahead of me, he asked for five dollars. In my case, he spread his arms wide, grinned and declared, “For you? Ten!”

I paid it, because Steranko. Also because he’d just let me talk his ear off for several minutes while other people were still queued up behind me. It’s entirely possible that as I left him with my signed poster and book in hand, his judgment of me was “What an asshole.”

But hey, he could have turned me away completely. He could have told me to shut the hell up and move along. Instead he sat there spinning me cool anecdotes like how he convinced Stan Lee to run his famous four-page splash illustration of a SHIELD/Hydra battle (“Stan! To be able to see this in its proper form, they’ll have to buy *four* copies!”).

As we talked, people would occasionally come up and snap photos. Steranko would hold up his hand, and sometimes they’d think he was waving, and wave back and scurry off. He wasn’t waving— he was trying to block his face, and grumbling every time he failed. He was taking cash for his posters of Captain America as donations to charity because I think for legal reasons he wasn’t allowed to be selling them for profit. Little aftershocks of an idealism long since sacrificed on the altar of the comics business.

The one time I truly saw him enjoying himself was when a young boy and his dad made their way to the front of the line. Steranko’s face lit up, and however long he talked to me, he talked to that kid longer, even inviting him behind the table to watch while he did a free sketch of the hero the kid wanted. No charge. But eventually, it was back to business and the signings, a lot of which would no doubt be ending up on Ebay.

My poster didn’t end up on Ebay, though, it’s in a nice place on my wall. Look, maybe meeting Steranko wasn’t nirvana, but like I said, I accepted the risk ahead of time. When dealing with potentially grumpy old men, sometimes just some quality time is all you can ask.