Gearing Up For San Diego

DECIDING TO BRING IN A THIRD PARTY

Last year, Elizabeth and I bought a 10’x10’ booth for this year’s San Diego Con. If you buy it a year in advance, you get a hundreds-of-dollar savings. We knew we didn’t want to share again, because it just wasn’t enough space. However, when we found out Elizabeth would be eight months pregnant for the convention, we knew she wouldn’t be as mobile, and that she wouldn’t be able to help her usual enormous amount. She wouldn’t be able to run from one end of the hall to the other if I needed an errand done. She wouldn’t be able run into town and grab us some food. She’d have a hard enough time, I suspect, just getting from the hotel to the con and back. She’d probably want to spend some time just getting some rest back at the hotel, which means she couldn’t just sit around and watch the booth while I goof off and make connections, go hunt down artists for pin-ups, get things signed by my idols, try to speak to editors, or whatever other “goofing off” I feel like doing. It became pretty quickly apparent that it would do us well if we could find someone to give us help, keep an eye on the booth, make food runs; give me freedom to goof off (= do business); whatever we might need.

I thought over the people I knew, who knew comics and who didn’t. I thought about pretty female friends of mine or of my wife. I thought about comics nerds I know, either who publish their own stuff, have strips in local papers, or aspire to one day be published. I thought about cool friends who don’t read comics at all.

Our friend Matt Silady seemed like a good first choice. First of all, he reads A LOT of comics, and really knows the industry. He really knows all the people in the industry, including all the creators, editors, companies, reviewers…He REALLY KNOWS the industry. Second, he self-publishes his own book, “The Homeless Channel,” but has only done two issues so far, so if we offered to let him share the table with us, he wouldn’t take up a lot of space. (You’ve got to think about this selfish stuff…) Third, he’s one of the artists I see at conventions who I’m intensely jealous of, because he’s just such a good salesman, he sells five times the number of books I’m ever able to sell, and I don’t know how he does it. But however he does it, it sounds like it would be worth having at my table, if nothing else to try and pick up some hot tips.

We offered, if he was willing to come help us out, not to charge him table space, and he was excited to accept. And it took a lot of stress off us, knowing we’d have someone informed, capable, and talented – who we get along with – sharing our space.

MOVING BEFORE THE CON

The weekend of the 8^th, my wife and I moved from a two-bedroom into a three-bedroom apartment. As moves go, it was as easy as a move can be, because 1. We stayed in the same apartment complex, and literally just went down one door (about twenty feet.) We didn’t bother to pack at all. We just filled a box, carried it over, dumped it in a drawer, and went back to fill the next box, etc. 2. We had been there four years, and the landlord informed us she would be replacing the carpets and painting the walls in our old place, so we didn’t need to worry about cleaning the carpets or puttying all the nail holes, etc. 3. The people moving into our old place wouldn’t be coming in until August, so we had weeks to get moved and settled.

Just the same, moving always sucks, and what horrible timing, it being a week and a half away from San Diego (when there’s so much preparation to do), and with a pregnant wife who can’t do the usual strenuous lifting and slavish house-fixing I would normally demand of my wife.

By the weekend before San Diego, Elizabeth finally let go of the fact that our house wouldn’t be completely ready before we left, and even seemed okay with that. We still have some closets to rearrange, a few boxes to unpack, lots of pictures to put on the walls, and a few baby furnishings or elaborate toys to put together, but we’re not doing too badly.

I spent a week moving, unpacking, building shelves, organizing stuff. Then I saved the weekend to try and get all the last-minute things finished for the con. I printed, cut, and stapled Dr. DeBunko mini-comics. I designed three different flyers and printed hundreds of them. I designed a new, larger, catchier price list, making it clear what bargains I’m offering. I packed comics into bubble envelopes and boxes for the trip. I sent out a mailer, so people would know where to find us in San Diego. Between the move and getting ready for the con, we only managed to get one decent night’s sleep in the last week. We won’t get any sleep this week either.

But we’re ready as we can hope. Wish us luck.

Being finished with the Dr. DeBunko book, I was anxious to jump back into the Doris Danger sixteen books as well.

This is the way I write Doris Danger stories. I don’t think about them, and I do other things. I’ll just be going through my day, driving somewhere, sitting at work, watching tv, reading a book, going for a walk, running errands, or whatever, and I’ll get a weird idea in my head, that makes me laugh, or hopefully at least smile. Then I jot that idea down on a scrap of paper, or in a notebook if I’ve got one with me.

The other way I write Doris Danger stories, is I read any old Stan Lee-Jack Kirby comic, and I laugh at some of their plot-lines or artwork, and usually that inspires me with cornball ideas.

And last of all, if I read through any of my old Doris Danger stories, I leave so many holes and untapped, uncompleted ideas, that browsing through will remind me how many other things I can have happen, or expand upon.

But all these ideas, I just jot on pieces of paper. So I’ve got stacks of these unused ideas, just waiting to be thrown together. Since all the Doris Danger stories are disjointed and usually pretty brief, I know that when it comes time, I’ll lump a series of these completely unrelated ideas together, and that’s all I do for my actual “scripting.”

I read through some old plots I’d jotted down, and picked the one that made me laugh the hardest. If I find something that really tickles me, I’ll read it to Elizabeth, but she never thinks it’s as funny as I find it. I don’t care. I decided long ago to write to my audience, and pretty much as far as I can tell based on my sales numbers, my audience is just me. So I’ve got to please that audience.

We’re moving next week. We’re just in a two-bedroom apartment, and with a baby one the way, we’re just going to need more room. So I got this wild hair to go through my comics collection yet again, and see if there’s anything I can’t dump. I tend to do this every few years, because the rooms get too full of comics. My biggest, most embarrassing dump was when I first got married. Twenty-two long boxes out the door.

The reason I say wild hair this time around is that I just started yanking all kinds of stuff out of my collection and putting it in the dump pile. I’m realizing, I’ll never read any of this again. And that has become my criteria. Even if I enjoyed it the first time. Even if I really liked the art. If I don’t think I’ll read it, or even look at it again, dump it. Dump it.

If I wasn’t sure, I would open it up and flip through and read it. And what I found is that, even if I thought the art was really good, I often still didn’t have any interest in keeping a lot of it. I didn’t really get rid of much older stuff. It was a lot of newer books. A lot of them were popular books too. But I just am not interested any more.

I would read them, and the style of writing would get on my nerves. Everything is so cute and clever and in-fashion. It’s about cell phones and reality tv and everything that’s “in” right now, and it all felt like a big gimmick to be “popular” and “cool,” and I realized, I don’t want to be “popular” and “cool,” I just want to tell the goddamn stories I want to tell. And obviously this is a sign I’m getting old, because I can’t stand anything that’s “cool” any more. It’s a bad sign.

It’s like when you realize you don’t know what movies are cool, or what music is cool anymore. And you just start watching all the old movies, or listening to all the old music you liked when you were younger. Bad sign. Bad sign. I’m getting old.

And worse, all the artists seem so talented. I can’t draw like that. It’s humiliating. They’re so good. Their line work is so amazing. Right now, clean-lined photo-realism is in, and even if that’s what I attempt, I just can’t quite accomplish it.

I finally began admitting to myself this week, I don’t really want to do superhero comics.

I never really realized it before. I always assumed I’d wind up there eventually, and it’s just what I’d do. But now I’m resigned. It’s not what I do. I don’t have any desire to do it.

It’s a big step for me. Because of course, superhero books are pretty much the only place people can make a paycheck in the industry. The page rates are simply better, and the work is steadier. Most successful people in the industry, even if they begin with indie books, wind up on superhero titles.

And I assumed this would happen to me. I assumed the big companies would eventually see my work and say, this guy is the guy for us. He should work for us. But here we are, two years into my publishing career, and no one is asking yet.

And meanwhile, I’m reading a couple superhero books here and there, and thinking, sure I liked this stuff when I was in sixth grade. I found it really intellectual and realistic, but honestly, I’ve gotten older now. I still appreciate it. I still have those emotional and psychological bonds to it. But I’m just not such interested in it anymore. It isn’t a reality that “works” for me. I’ve been writing about mad scientists and private detectives. Or if I write about fantastic giant monsters, I’m parodying it. I have trouble imagining I could take a superhero format seriously if I were doing it. And besides, I’m enjoying what I’m doing, NOT doing superheroes.

So all that forced me to realize, I don’t really want to do superheroes.

So on the one hand I feel really alienated, and like, I can’t fit in and I don’t want to. I don’t belong in this medium. But on the other hand, I realize, I have a day job, and I can afford to just do whatever project I feel like, on my own terms. I don’t really want to get work-for-hire and weird random projects. I don’t want to fill in for other artists and get put on who-knows-what books. I just want to do the stories I want to do, and I’m doing that. I’m choosing my stories, and making up my own characters. I can continue to put out regular comics, or I could make more mini-comics, or start doing web comics, and try to not lose a thousand bucks every issue I put out. Even if financially my career continues to lose me money every time I release something, I can afford to do that. I can afford to do what I want creatively. So, really, I’m very lucky. I’m living the American dream. I have no creative limits or overseers to keep me tied back. What am I complaining about?

My wife and I watched a film noir last night, called “Somewhere in the Night,” about a man with amnesia trying to find his past, and getting mixed up with thugs, a private detective, and a dame. I hadn’t heard of it before. I thought it was really good, and it got my imagination racing. All these fantastic elements, and great mystery. Kept you wondering. So I of course began thinking, How would I have done this story differently? Which translates to mean: How can I take this story, literally steal it, but make it my own, so it’s an homage instead of an outright theft?

This is a technique I took to heart, learning from the Coen Brothers, with their fantastic film, “Miller’s Crossing,” which is literally just a blatant rip-off, story element for story element, of the fantastic book, “The Glass Key,” by Dashiell Hammett.

The newspaper strip format has never appealed to me, because first off, all you can really do with it is “a gag a day,” and honestly, how long can you keep that up before you and everyone who reads it has had enough. It seems so limiting, and personally everything in newspapers now feels fairly flaccid to me. I’ve enjoyed newspaper strips in the past (I loved Peanuts and Garfield as a kid, and Far Side, Calvin and Hobbes, and Bloom County maybe in high school), but it’s been some time since I’ve had any interest in reading them, and on the few occasions I’ve tried, I’ve wondered why I bothered, because I didn’t enjoy anything I’d read.

There have been a few comic strips I continue to thoroughly enjoy, but they aren’t in papers anymore, and haven’t lasted historically for some reason, and they are the action serials. I of course in my pessimism toward humanity assume the reason they haven’t lasted is that they were replaced by blockbuster films and video games, and that people just generally want the quick, vapid, easy laugh from their comic strips now, and anything more than that is more commitment than they care to put in. I love the Chester Gould Dick Tracy comic strip in particular, because they were brutal and crime-ridden, and that’s the subject matter I enjoy most. And I thought, if I were to delve into the comic strip format, that is the one I would explore. And of course, it’s once again the least likely to generate any interest, since it’s a long-dead genre.

But I like playing with genres and formats, and I realized that this format would work nicely as a web comic, as well. I liked the idea of combating the challenges you face with a three or four panel story advancement per installment.

With all that in mind, I’ve wanted to get started on a Dick Hammer: The Dailies, for some time. I thought the daily comic strip format would be great for Dick Hammer. With Dick Hammer, that would mean one gag per strip, but also keep a continuous crime-mystery going. But all this time that I knew I someday wanted to do this, I had to wait on a good story to form itself in my head. One that would adopt itself to this limiting format. But one that would be epic enough that it could sustain itself for many installments.

I knew it would be a nice way to keep, even if only somewhat, my work in the public’s eye, while the time passed before I finished the project, as well. I always looked at it as a book in the end, but one that could be publicly posted along the way.

After watching “Somewhere in the Night,” I went to bed, thinking about how I could try and translate this story into Dick’s Dailies. My brain was racing. Finally I got out of bed, went into another room, turned on the lights, got a pencil and paper, and wrote out all the characters I would need involved, and how they’re involved and interrelated within the story. I think I’ve got the basic premise mapped out, and I’m excited to start scripting things, so I can start drawing.

The story is pretty complicated, though, and it will take some time to iron everything out. When I say I have the basic premise, what I mean is, I know this has to happen, and this, for the story to advance. But it doesn’t always make sense why those people would do this, so I need to brainstorm, and come up with the reasons to justify their actions. This is the way I write mysteries. I come up with these crazy things that I know I want to have for the actions, but then it takes me some time to come up with the reasons, so that the story makes sense, and is cohesive. That’s what takes the time.

The next morning, I told my wife the basic story idea. It took a long time, because there are so many odd weavings and intricacies, and I had to explain and re-explain a number of sequences, and how they fit into the big picture. Because it was such a long explanation, we wound up coming and fading from the discussion, as our day went by and we had to do other things. Finally she said, Just how long is this going to be? But that’s the beauty. If it’s a web comic, I’ll just do a few panels a week, and I’ll just go until it’s finished. That way it’s a relatively small commitment, but it keeps my chops up. I’m advancing a story in public, so people know I’m still working, but it’s little enough work per week that I can continue to work on other projects. So it won’t matter how long it is. But it’s going to be pretty long. And if I only do a few panels a week, it will take forever. Can’t wait.

Sort of feeling out of sorts this last week or so. The Lump trade is out, and I haven’t really gotten any attention from it. I got one review from a previous reviewer, who seemed to think it was all right. If I were a pessimist, I would say either that no one bothered to read it, or that no one realized it was even out (since no one really ordered it), or that a few people read it and didn’t really think anything of it. No attention.

I’ve probably said it before. I vacillate between feeling like a superstar and a nobody.

When I look at nice reviews I’ve gotten, and artists I’ve managed to get to contribute pin-ups, I feel like a superstar. When I find out my book sales numbers, or try to be a businessman, I feel like a nobody. I assume this will continue as long as I do comics, no matter how successful I get.

I poked onto the Comic-Con website to see if the Russ Manning newcomer nominees had been posted. Since I sent in a request for consideration, I felt like this might be one of my few hopes to win any awards, since I’d be up against other “beginners” like myself. After this award, I realized, the only awards to win are up against the actual artists. Could I ever have a hope against real artists? Maybe not, but I might have a fighting chance with “newcomers.” But this year would be my last and only chance, because next year, I won’t make the “newcomer” restrictions any more. And sure enough, the nominees had been chosen, and I was not one of them.

I remember thinking, speaking with JH Williams III, that there are a lot of talented, hard-working comics artists in the field, putting out a lot of great work. And I’m sure they all deserve to get awards for their hard work and talent, but only a few will get those awards every year. Who am I to hope it could be bestowed on me? Who am I to dream I could be the year’s single greatest artist, or writer, or artist of a short story or humorous story or limited series, or whatever? It’s a long shot even for the fan-favorite veterans, going against other fan-favorite veterans. They have a fan base, and popularity. They have experience, and know-how. They have talent that’s been honed for years. And they have the votes. So why should I bother to hope maybe I would be honored with such prestige? It should be okay if you don’t ever win. There’s just so much great talent. Sam Kieth told me he hasn’t ever won, except when he first started out, he I believe received a nomination for new inker on Matt Wagner’s Mage.

I finished the Dr. DeBunko collection this week, and was really excited and proud that Michael Shermer agreed to write a blurb for the book. Michael Shermer was my idol before I knew he existed. I had this image of an idol in mind. Someone who debunks all the crazy-assed bullshit that crazy-assed morons in our world believe. Then I heard him on the radio and realized, he was the one. He was better than the one, because he’s respectful of others’ beliefs, and thoughtful, and tries to educate instead of belittle, which makes him a much better man than I find myself to be. So he was that magical one for me. How invigorating, and rewarding, and legitimizing, that he would be willing to say such kind words about my comic.

So with Dr. DeBunko behind me, it’s a few more pages of Doris Danger, and then suddenly on to new projects. What will the future hold…

 

* * *

NOTE OF  ATTITUDE
Hi Fans,

Rob Oder, Editor-In-Chief, here, with a quick editorial comment about the mood swings of our own artisic hack, Chris Wisnia! It’s come to our attention, especially in the entries building up to San Diego 2006, that some folks are concerned by the fly-by-night, off-hand, stream-of-consciousness, no-apologies style of writing Chris utilizes in the creation of his blog! You’ve seen him get really pissed and say really stupid things that make him look stupid, that he should have kept his mouth shut about! You’ve seen him speak derogatorily or frustratedly about himself or this wonderful comics industry! You’ve seen him curse his own very existence and the existence of all those loved ones around him who have supported and nurtured him! Well we wanted to answer the question everyone keeps asking! No, he isn’t getting medicated, and we are still unable to convince him he needs to be!

The point is, being an artist, as well as a comics professional in a very difficult industry, he feels intense mood swings, violently bi-polar highs and lows, ranging from self-doubt, frustration, anger, fear, happiness, pride in his work, desolation, uptightness, stress, questioning or lacking self-worth, worthlessness, self-loathing, and great personal reward! He can be negative, sarcastic, mean, exaggerating, or flippant!

But don’t take it so seriously! As a creator of fiction, it shouldn’t and can’t be any other way! Why not? Because most important of all, these diary entries are intended to entertain! They’re less an actual diary, and more of a marketable means to get readers to his website! And thanks to this style of entertainment (as opposed to the poorly crafted entertainment of his comics work), his blog is more popular, literally by the thousands, than any other pages at his website or comics he has produced! And anyone who’s read a book, watched a tv show, or taken a class in creative writing knows it’s more entertaining if there is tension, and drama, and conflict! And it’s funnier if there’s lots of stupidity and failure and ranting!

So don’t ever take Chris too seriously! Because all of it, ALL OF IT, the drama and entertainment and humor and fun, is just a front, to get you to his website, in the hopes you’ll buy one of his comics while you’re here!

Enjoy,

Rob Oder, Editor-in-Chief

 

 

 

Every year, my local comics shop, A-1 Comics has been hosting a “Small Press” Day, where indie artists hang out, visit with customers, and maybe sell some of their books. Even before I had self-published anything, I remember the shop telling me I should come check it out.

Usually they had the day coincide with Free Comics Day, and that way, there’d be a guaranteed crowd of people coming into the shop. On top of that, A-1 tends to run a nice sale on the same day, too.

This year, they decided to run a sale, but have Small Press Day separate from Free Comics Day. Before the event, I was emailed and asked about contact info for some other indie guys like myself. I wrote back that I could try and get some of my other artist friends to come up to Sacramento to join us as well. I emailed a half dozen self-publishers, and sdome bigger name comics artists, to see if any of them might care to come up to the signing and hang out for a few hours. Primarily bay area comics folks.

None of the bigger name folks were able to make it. Two of the indie artists said they were coming, but only one ended up making it, Matt Silady.

Matt had gotten a masters in creative writing at UC Davis, so being a Davis man myself, and both of us sharing a love of comics, I’d met him email-wise through a couple of friends. I officially met him at APE-Con 2005. At this year’s 2006 APE-Con, I had mentioned to Matt that Elizabeth would be eight months pregnant come San Diego time, and if he might care to come down and help us watch the table, I’d be happy to give him some table space in return, to shop his Homeless Channel comics.

Right before he came up for this A-1 signing, he said it was all worked out that he would join us for San Diego, and that sounded like a lot of fun, and I was looking forward to seeing him.

I was amused to see that in the promotion, A-1 had listed me for “Tabloia” (my comic), and ALSO “guitarist and vocalist for Weird Harold.” That tickled me.

A couple days before the signing, A-1 sent me a list of the attendees, and I was surprised to see Ron Lim and Thomas Yeates were also listed.

Other artists listed to show up were my friend Daniel Cooney (Valentine), my friends, Tim Watts and Michael O’Connell (locals who do the web comic, “The Nice Guy”), Zac Henderson (Project i.O), and Leigh Dragoon (Spidric). Leigh I’d met at APE, because Sam Kieth had gotten in touch with her about having her do a book in his Ojo series, so she came and introduced herself to me.

My friend Mike Hampton (Captain A**Hole) also wound up being there.

I got to the store, and saw that the set-up was kind of tight. There were tables lain out at the center of the room, by the register, but we had to really squeeze to fit everyone in. I’d been told to invite whoever I wanted, and we would squeeze everybody in, but now I saw what they meant by squeezing everyone!

I knew most of the gang there, and it was fun seeing all these guys again. As you’ve been in the comics industry for awhile, you begin to realize that you’ll just see all the same folks at all the gatherings, and there’s a sort of camaraderie in all that.

I was told Ron Lim would be there early on, but would have to leave early. Thomas Yeates would be arriving later.

I wound up being seated by Ron, who is always a pleasure to visit with, because he’s so friendly and energetic and upbeat. We talked a little about how he’s changed what he draws based on how he’s seen colorists treat his work. He spent a lot of time on a background once, and was dismayed to see the colorist had just applied one neutral, flat color to the entire background, thereby pushing it back out of the viewer’s notice, and wiping away anyone’s chances of appreciating it. Ever since, he’s compositionally kept his backgrounds much simpler, presumably to keep the focus on the subject matter in the foreground.

Before I knew it, Ron had to leave, but right around that same moment, Thomas wandered in, and since Ron’s seat was now the only one available, down sits Thomas with me!

Lately, I’ve been reading a lot of classic adventure literature, and I suspected these were the kinds of books Thomas enjoyed, since so much of his comics work is based on or an adaptation of the classics.

I’d recently read the first maybe four or so Tarzan books, and so we talked about how well-written the series was, particularly the first seven novels. How if you haven’t read them, you picture Tarzan books as just being these jungle adventures of tiger-wrestling, swinging on vines, savages with blow-guns. But they’re actually heart-rending, intense, and often very violent, well-written stories.

Thomas said he’d recently read The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood, and was surprised how much he’d enjoyed it. This was another book I’d recently read.

I had copies of “Ojo” with me, and so Sam Kieth got brought up. Thomas was flipping through the book, and I told him about the process of me trying to draw like Sam. We went through the pages, and Thomas would say, “Is this your page? This is amazing, how you captured the ripples of the water!” And I’d say, “Uh, no, that’s Sam’s page.” And it seemed like that happened a few times, and then Thomas quit asking if it was my page. In the past, people had said, Oh, the art blends nicely, etc. etc. But now I thought, Man, that Thomas has a good eye. He’s really caught me. Shucks. And what can I say? Sam does some amazing work.

Thomas was on a Wally Wood kick. He’d brought a checklist of Wally Wood comics, and the shop had one in particular that he picked up, and we flipped through it together. Thomas was in awe of a sort of living fluid in the story, and how the esteemed Mr. Wood was able to capture the essence of this.

Generally speaking, I assume local signings at comics shops will just be sitting around for an hour, or a couple hours, and not selling anything, and then just going home. But I really enjoyed myself at this local signing.

During the show, I asked Matt Silady about sending my comics out to reviewers. He really keeps up on the industry, and on whose reviews are being read, and whose reviews influence readers. He had some good advice to give, and I take his advice very seriously. He said that many reviewers, you need to send your books out well before the book is actually released, so that the review can coincide with the release of the book. Then he said, send them out again when the book is out. The idea is to get people thinking about your book when it’s time to order, and again when it’s out. And if people can keep seeing interviews or reviews or mentions of your work, over and over, they’ll eventually have to take note. Or maybe they thought your book sounded good from the start, but then forgot (because so many comics come out every month), so you want to keep reminding them as much as you can.

Afterwards, Matt joined Elizabeth and I for a quick bite to eat before he drove back to the Bay Area. Matt is a person who, however much time I have with him, I wish I had more time to visit. I’m looking forward to sharing the booth with him at San Diego.

Publish three comics in three months??!!

It’s sounds much more ambitious than it is. Dr. DeBunko will be 32 pages, and each Doris Danger book will be 16. So to start, that’s only two issues worth of pages.

I’ve got twenty-four completed pages of Dr. DeBunko stories that were already published in Tabloia, and five more from the two mini-comics I threw together for Soup-Con (Super-Con). That means, all I need is a cover, back cover, and one more two-page story. Then compile already-written letters about Dr. DeBunko from Tabloia, and throw together an ad, and I’ll be there. One issue completed. That’s easy.

As for the two sixteen-page Doris Danger comics. Long ago, I did a five-page story that I planned for Dick Ayers to ink. It was going to be in the sixth issue of Tabloia, but the comic was cancelled at number five. I never ended up sending Dick the pages, so all I would have to do was ink them myself. When I’d finished that, I threw together another four page story. Add to that, I’ve got ten pages worth of pin-ups – five pages per issue I can subtract from my drawing schedule. So that doesn’t leave much work to do by the end of the year.

With just a few pages of work, and some clean-up and coloring and laying-outs, it should be very doable. And along the way, I’m slowly getting more proficient with Photoshop.

Let me tell you about my day job as a guitar instructor. I now charge my students for four lessons a month. If there is a fifth Monday in the month, for example, we take that Monday off. I began this new policy in March (so my first month with the new policy, I immediately had a heavenly five-day weekend.) April had miraculously NO FIFTH DAYS, but this last weekend in May gave me another five-day drawing-spree. Between those two humongous weekends, I’ve managed to crank out some serious work, so I’m to the point I only need a Dr. DeBunko back cover, one monster cover and back cover, and six more monster pages. No problem, right? Right?

I had dinner with Wayne Jones, my former “business manager” for Salt Peter Press. I told him my plans for finishing out the year. I asked if he thought people would be able to read more than three Dr. DeBunko stories before they got sick of the predictable format. Because let’s face it, the Dr. DeBunko stories are just the same joke over and over again.

He said, Look at Danielle Steele. Look at Grisham.

I asked if he thought it was a bad idea, market-wise, to do basically an “only thirty-two page trade,” and tiny little pathetic 16-page comics. He made a suggestion. He said I should scrap all these ideas, forget drawing comics, and start an “advice and counseling agency” for aspiring comics guys. I’ll set up a phone number and have people call, and I’ll bill them $500 for advice. People can ask any advice about the comics industry, and how I can help them to make it in comics, and what I’ll do is, no matter what their question, I’ll shout in their ear, “THAT’S AN ABSOLUTELY STUPID IDEA! IT’S IDIOTIC! DON’T EVEN BOTHER WITH THAT HAIR-BRAINED THEORY! MY ADVICE TO YOU IS TO GIVE UP WITH THIS MORONIC DREAM OF GETTING INTO COMICS! THERE’S NO WAY TO MAKE ANY MONEY IN THIS INDUSTRY! FIND A REAL JOB! FIND SOMETHING WITH BENEFITS, THAT WILL HELP YOU PAY YOUR RENT AND GET YOU SOME FOOD! THAT’S MY ADVICE! NOW DO YOU WANT TO PAY BY CHECK OR CREDIT CARD?”

And of course this is this some sad, sick joke, because I’m beginning to wonder how anyone makes money in this industry. Nothing I’ve tried so far has done me any good in generating interest or additional sales.

That’s why I’m going to try and “flood the market” with three books in three months. My wife encouraged me to pound it out, hard and violently, right now, and for the next few months. Just get as much out there as I can, while I can, before my son Oscar arrives into this world and wipes out any hope of spare time I may have.

My mom called me right before Super-Con and told me she’d read my horoscope and it said that this year was going to be my best year ever. And for everything. Family. Business. Well-being and contentment. Everything.

I joked that when I heard the good news, I was so excited, I quit my day job, and climbed onto my couch and started watching TV. I’m all set, so I’ll just relax and wait for all that great stuff to come my way.

The truth is, I would love if it were true. I would love it, but I just don’t believe in that stuff anymore. I’ve gotten too many horoscopes and psychic readings and fortune cookies that didn’t come true. I’m a skeptic. I don’t really believe in horoscopes, and good fortune, and luck. I believe good or lucky things happen to some people, every now and then. I believe in happiness and success. But I believe, for the most part, the people who really achieve it either have simple expectations, or they work their asses off, and earn it.

It reminds me of an Oprah Winfrey show my wife told me about. Oprah is someone who I think really earned it, incidentally.

Oprah had a contest, where Joe and Jane Everybody could apply to become the next “guy-next-door-who-always-dreamed-but never-had-the-chance” American Singing Superstar. She was actually giving out a free recording deal.

So when I heard about this (and my wife thought it was such a great and fun opportunity for people), on the one hand, I thought, Wow, is there a way I could apply to this, and isn’t it great that she’s giving people a chance to fulfill their dreams.

But on the other hand, I thought…In life, if you want to succeed at something, of course it’s nice if you have some talent and support, and a fair amount of luck. And maybe some connections. But the most important thing you need is to work your ass off, and give and give and give, and practice, and work, and study and be critical and learn and improve and find ways to become what you want to be.

So in my usual negativity, I envision old, washed-up nobodies, whose lives went down some dreary path they never wanted or expected to find themselves in. Maybe they had a great singing voice in high school, or friends thought they sang well along with the stereo in the car or at their sister’s wedding, or at the karaoke bar. Or maybe they tried to put a band together in middle school, but nothing ever came of it. But then they accidentally got knocked up, or wound up in some drudgery-filled, exhausting job, and then their husband left them, and they couldn’t pay the mortgage any more, and the harder and longer they worked, the more they realized they had no other skills and could never get out into some other decent job, without years of schooling and training, and what’s the use now, so late in the game. So now their lives are just a routine of making it through the day, and in their fantasies they imagine it was all because they never followed their dreams. And if only they had followed their dreams, their lives would have been different! They would have been superstars! They would have been millionaires! They wouldn’t have had any of these daily toils and boredoms and problems. They would have had fame and respect! They would have married the most gorgeous models in the nation!

Of course, Oprah didn’t bill the contest exactly this way. She had a more positive slant on it, believe it or not.

Now for myself, I don’t have time to watch tv or go the movies, or socialize with my friends or family, because I’m trying so hard, for the last eight years or whatever, to be the best comics artist I can be. I’m upsetting my wife that what little spare time I have, all I do is draw, and she would like to have a social life.

And every few months I look back at my work and realize how much better I’m getting, with control of the brush, with making better compositions and choices, with being able to draw and express what I’m trying to express. And that took a lot of time and practice and dedication. I work at it. I really work hard at it.

So this contest kind of says, Oh silly, none of that is important. You don’t need to work hard and try to earn your profession. You just have to have a little talent, and feel like it’s something you’d like to do. You just have to dream it. You’re a divorced dad trying to raise three kids, and you got a high-paying tech job, but your dream is to rock out, so let’s just give you a recording contract.

That’s nice for the guy who never could have done it otherwise, but really… What about all the people who left their friends and family to move to L.A., who are trying to be musicians, and they spend hours a day just trying to get gigs for themselves, and three or four nights a week performing in bars, writing a few songs mornings, and getting together with their band five days a week, and only have time to squeeze in a day job maybe bussing tables, just to eat, so that they can try and achieve their dreams?

And maybe what makes me the most sarcastic of all about this is the fact that Oprah’s contest really is just how life is. It’s just random, lucky, unjustified, and completely unfair. Because people work their asses off and are never discovered, and other people just had their horoscope stars in line, and it all just fell into place. And try so hard. Why haven’t the stars lined up for me with my comics career yet?

Until now! Thanks, horoscope! Well, great! Now I don’t have to worry about all this struggling and working to accomplish my goals. The horoscope says I’m home free, so I’ll just sit back with my mouth opened to the sky, and wait for my meal ticket to drop down my gullet.

Actually, the horoscope did get me amped, but it got me amped to be active and get working, and try to make things happen. I’ve decided I want to try to pump out three comics before the end of the year.

After the first day, many artists who we spent a little time with said they weren’t planning on showing up Sunday. Ryan Sook had driven home, Arthur Adams’ table was empty. Of course, this made the guest list smaller and smaller. One artist who did come out told me he had a lot of work to get done at home, and was also tempted to duck out.

On Saturday, Travis Charest’s booth said he’d be there Sunday, but by Sunday, the sign was long gone, and of course Travis was never anywhere to be seen.

The con opened, and it was desolate. About an hour in, we joked that hopefully the con would be opening soon. I snapped a photo of Mick Gray for laughs, because there wasn’t a person in sight anywhere near him, in the aisles OR behind the tables.  We found out that there was a parade and a ball game, or something like that.  This attracted a lot of people, but also made getting out difficult.

Someone came by my table and told me she’d picked up the first couple issues of Tabloia at her local comics shop, and she wound up getting the rest, as well as Doris Danger. That’s a nice feeling, knowing the book was read by someone, and they enjoyed it enough to pick up some more.

I took some time to go over and see if Sergio had had time to think about doing a pin-up. We ended up talking about his career. He’s contributed to every issue of Mad magazine for I don’t know how many years, and on top of that, he did maybe a dozen of those silent pocket-books. For a huge stretch of that period (ten years?) he did a monthly Groo comic as well. He’s been doing car commercials, and every week he does a comic page for a European magazine, where each one has a theme, and you have to find ten objects within the picture. His amounts of detail remind me of Where’s Waldo, where you can just stare at them and catch all these little funny nuances. But he did it first.

I told him as a kid, I’d loved those between-the-margins strips, and then when Groo came out, my limited eye still realized he was the same artist. And then I started seeing his little cartoons for Funniest Home Videos. That was all real special to me, growing up. He was a crucial stage in my developing eye.

He started opening up some of his books and showing me pages he’d drawn. He showed me big page spreads he did of the Simpsons, or of comics conventions. The comics convention pages were fun, because he’d draw all the different comics creators, or else comics characters wandering around the aisles.

It was a real nice visit, and by the end, he’s agreed to do a monster pin-up for me. He said maybe he’d have it done by San Diego, which is when we’ll see him next. I felt so warm toward him.

Popping over to Adam Hughes’ table, I heard Allison telling some fans that Adam has such a good relationship with his editor, he’s not really interested in switching out of DC at this time. He did some work for another company, where he was paid better, but even so, the editors were so fussy about what they wanted, he had to work harder and longer to make all the corrections they demanded, so his “per hour” pay probably wasn’t actually much better in the long run. Especially once you added the time in for all the re-working and the stress of dealing with these editors who wanted changes, it just isn’t worth it to him. Where he’s at, with DC, his editors are happy with his work, and happy to let him do whatever he wants, and that’s such a good working environment for him, he’s glad to stay with them for the foreseeable future.

Back at my table, with the “this-place-is-empty-and-what-the-hell” negative vibe, I noticed, more than other cons for some reason, how many of the indie artists around me had been doing this for ten years or so, and it seemed like they were still in the same place as me. Still not making much money at cons, still struggling to find work and often not finding any, still basically unknown names in the industry, still working day jobs. It was quite discouraging. They’ve just continued to put out books out of love, just like me, but I think some of them made less than I did over the weekend. How long does an artist go at this before he decides, it just isn’t going anywhere? How long do we keep paying to get our stuff self-published, pounding out all this money, and not ever making any of it back, and not getting any recognition, or readership? How long do we wait for a readership to grow, when it just isn’t growing? Shouldn’t ten years be long enough to say, Yeah, I guess I’m just not going to make it in this goddamn industry. Sobering. I guess you wait and see, and if it hasn’t happened in ten years, you think, well, I’ve still got a couple stories I want to tell. No harm if I’m enjoying myself. What’s another thousand bucks to print them up.

Overall, we did fine. We made our table cost back (it was a cheap table) and had enough left over for dinner. Like I say, that was better than a lot of the others. I’m hoping my own table figures continue to keep going up like this, because a year ago, I never even made the table costs back. If we can continue this trend of paying our table off each convention, then I’m heading upward that little amount at least. Gotta just keep plugging away I guess. Maybe for ten years.

Toward the end of the day, we asked Ryan Sook if he had any dinner plans, and he invited us to join him and a couple of his self-publishing friends, Alex Sheikman and Norm Felchle. As the con was wrapping up for the day, and I was over visiting with him and Ryan, Mick Gray asked what we were up to for dinner, and Ryan invited him along as well.

Elizabeth and I talked with Ryan about coming down to his home in Cambria and spending some time with him. His wife had offered when we saw them at Wondercon, and it sounded like fun. We didn’t realize he had a four hour drive to get home, and told him we’d reciprocate, and let him stay with us for the next Wonder- or Super-Con. He said he may just take us up on it. That would be a fun slumber party.

We just walked across the street for dinner, because we thought that would be quick and convenient. The restaurant said to seat ourselves, so we picked out a table in back and waited. No one came to bring us menus or water or see how we were doing. It didn’t bother us too much, because we were enjoying ourselves visiting. But then a couple other tables filled, and the waitress went to each of them and gave them menus, but was still ignoring us.

Finally we caught her attention when she was taking the other tables’ orders, so she brought enough menus for half of us, and took our drink orders. I ordered water.

A little later, she brought our drinks, but didn’t bring water for anyone, including me, who’d ordered it. To her credit, she realized it, and said in front of everyone that she’d bring my water. She was gone for awhile, again, and when we finally saw her, she returned to take our order, but forgot my water again. Again she said she’d bring it, and again she disappeared. Finally she brought my water, and that was the last we saw of her for awhile, except when she was checking on the other tables, but she never made eye contact with us, and probably would have pretended she didn’t see or hear us if we stood on the table shouting and kicking our drinks at her.

So we continued to visit, and enough time has passed that we’re watching the other tables getting their food. She doesn’t even check on us. We just don’t see her again.

We had probably gotten there sometime before 6:30 (the con had ended at 6:00, so that’s a conservative estimate). Finally eight o’clock rolls around, we’ve finished our drinks an hour ago, and still no word. She was still helping the other tables, and Elizabeth overheard our waitress tell them that the kitchen was now closed for the night.

Finally, she came around to us, and informed us there had been a situation in the kitchen, and she was terribly sorry, but it would be a bit before we got our food. How long? She didn’t want to specify, but we wouldn’t let her go until we pinned her down, at least to an hourly estimate. Finally she guessed, fifteen minutes? She asks if she could bring us more drinks, or maybe some bread. And we’re thinking, is there some reason you didn’t do either of those things an hour and a half ago?

Meanwhile, Ryan Sook needs to make a four hour drive home, so he gets up and says his goodbyes with an empty stomach. On his way out, he tells the waitress to please cancel his order.

A round of drinks and bread comes, and eventually our food too. Of course they bring Ryan’s meal, but to her credit, the waitress realizes this, and she tells us they won’t charge us. We finish and wait awhile longer for our bill. We don’t see the waitress again. When we finally got a random employee’s attention sweeping, we are told that the cook cut himself, but was too afraid to let anyone know. He tried to hide it from everyone, but finally he lost enough blood, he decided he had to go the hospital. For some reason he decided to do this by leaving and not telling anyone. When the kitchen staff realized what happened (who knows how much later), they had to close the kitchen down to get it cleaned and sanitary again. It’s a hell of a story, anyways.

We asked three people for the bill, and each one said they would make sure we got it, and then disappear. When the bill finally came, it of course still had Ryan’s meal on it, but we decided it’s worth our time to just pay for it, if it will only save us from having to wait for who-the-fuck-knows how much longer for a new bill. We walked out of the restaurant at 9pm, ready to set the goddamn place and all its staff on fire.

Getting to visit with the guys a little

Because we were there so long waiting to eat, we got some good visits in. I asked Ryan if he was still choosing not to go exclusive with any one company, and he told me he felt it was just smarter, not to get locked down. He said he’s been feeling like he’s just doing the same thing over and over, with superhero comics, and he’s losing interest in it. He said he wants to write his own stories, but he he’s having difficulty convincing editors to give him a chance. He mentioned a few of his story ideas, and I think they sound like fun. Of course, I have a bias for noir-type elements, and his stories would fall into those worlds. That was what caught my eye about his work when I first became aware of him. How his worlds were so shadow-filled, and dark.

Ryan and Mick were saying that at every convention, they only make one request, and that is that they don’t be placed near the porn stars. And they are still put over by the porn stars together, most every convention. (So if you can’t ever find them, now you know where to look.) This weekend, they said they were right by this woman who would offer willing men to use what she called her “hot seat.” I believe they would pay her, and then she would invite them to come back behind her table, and she and her john would both kind of squat down, so we couldn’t see exactly what was going on, and they’d be down there for a little while, and then when they finished whatever secret things they were doing, the guy would come back out again. “The hot seat.” I’m beginning to think I need to come up with a gimmick like that…

We discussed our personal “arch-nemeses” in the convention circuit. What’s hardest for a lot of us is the sketchers. The guys who make money drawing sketches of Wolverine or the Hulk or Spawn. What’s frustrating is that they’re so successful at it. It riles me to think how much more money they’re making than I could ever hope to make at a convention. I’ve got books! I published them! I’ve gotten paid to do professional work! My self-published work is a professional product! Why, o why?! It’s clearly just jealosy.

We were sitting across from a sketcher this week, who was always strutting around and talking really loud, so that we could hear any interesting thing he had to say. And he looked pretty busy the whole convention. And he had usually three or more people swarming around him non-stop, often a whole gaggle of them at his table.

He strutted over once to introduce himself, and looked over my books and accidentally dropped one. He picked it up and apologized, then strutted back to his booth.

Mick said, once he came to a convention at this very convention center, and as he pulled his car into the parking garage, his engine caught fire. He leapt out in stark fear and confusion, and one of his personal “arch-nemeses” happened to be right there. This “arch-nemesis” acted cool and fast. He took action into his own hands, disregarding his own safety, grabbed Mick’s fire extinguisher from Mick’s inexperienced, panicked hands, and put the fire out like a pro, saving Mick’s car, which seriously could have exploded or been totaled by the fire damage. Mick laughed, and said he had to admit that his antagonism stemmed from him saving Mick and making him not feel like a man.

Lots of good laughs.

Originally, I was just planning on going down to this convention and having some fun. Not getting a table or trying to sell books. Just going down and flipping through some back-issue bins and relaxing, like ol’ times. This has been a historically fairly small convention. I remember one year it was held in what looked like a gym. People had told me that one year felt like a hotel convention, just in a tiny room somewhere. So I wasn’t expecting much.

But as it got closer, we learned Adam Hughes was going to be there, and we thought it would be a good chance to see him and Allison again, and hopefully spend some time with them, after our nice visits at the Orlando Con.

Then Eduardo Risso was listed. And then we learned Sergio Aragones would be there, and Thomas Yeates. And our friends Ryan Sook and Mick Gray. Then Charles Vess and Arthur Adams and Travis Charest were listed. And then all of a sudden, it said Bill Sienkiewicz was coming out. I was getting steadily more impressed by the guest list. All these people I was either looking forward to trying to get pin-ups from, or who had done pin-ups. Also, it was announced to be a two-day convention. So it was shaping up to be a potentially very decent con.

Elizabeth finally said, if we’re going down there to see all these people anyways, it would be worth it to pay for the table, just so she would have a place to sit down. She’s now up to six months pregnant, after all.

So a couple weeks before the convention I sent in my table fee, and we were official.

Visiting the convention website, I noticed that Eduardo Risso was no longer listed. I assumed this meant he wasn’t coming after all. But even without him…what a list.

We got to the convention and set up. We learned early on that morning that Bill Sienkiewicz and Charles Vess had cancelled. No surprise with Bill, because a couple of times, we’d gone to conventions that he was supposed to appear but did not. Then it was listed Travis Charest would only appear Sunday (which he did not). The guest list became more and more sparse as the hours passed.

When I came in, Ryan Sook called out my name, so we said a quick hello before going over and setting up our table. The last time I’d seen him, he told me about his secret next project, which would be with Howard Chaykin. He said it’s okay for him to announce now that this project is Iron Man, and it will be a six-issue telling of his origin.

After setting up, I went straight over to Adam Hughes, because I had this foolish idea that maybe I’d be early enough to get on his list for convention sketches, and he’d have time and be willing to do a sketch for me of a giant monster, that I could include in my comic. By the time I got there, maybe a half hour into the convention, they had already closed their sketch line for the whole weekend. Man, he’s in demand. I saw someone who said he had gotten to the con at 5:30 in the morning, and waited at the door, just to make sure he got a sketch from Adam. So I was out of luck. However, I got to say a quick hello to him and Allison. He was already drawing away. I think it’s difficult for him to visit and draw, and Allison tended to keep the visiting going. I asked if they’d be able to have dinner, but they were having dinner with the convention runners. Strike. Strike. Strike. Ah well.

The convention started pretty slow, so I popped over and said hello to Ryan Sook and Mick Gray, who always sit together. I told Ryan I enjoyed how sparse his artwork was for X-Factor, and how much the colorist contributed. He said his colorist is actually a painter, and that he hadn’t consciously tried to be sparse. I flipped through his original art pages that he’d brought and realized, yeah, maybe he’s not any more sparse than he has been in previous projects. We’ve spoken in the past about how he doesn’t want to sign an exclusive contract with any one company, and he said he’s still happy that way.

I went and said hello to Sergio Aragones, who seemed to recognize me when I walked up, and even said, “Hi Chris.” I was impressed he remembered my name. I reminded him I was interested in a monster pin-up, and he asked to see my book again, to refresh his memory. When he saw it, he remembered it. We talked about the commission. I offered him a price, and he said, Oh no, absolutely not, that’s way too low. So I upped it, and he said, No, no, that wouldn’t nearly cover it. And we talked a little longer, with me asking him to give him a price and I’d see what I could do, and when I left he said he’d think about it, and come by my table later. At our last meeting at Wondercon, I’d left pretty hopefully, but after this talk, I felt less hopeful.  But we’d have plenty more interactions before the weekend was over.

I didn’t really sell any of the mini-comics that took a few weeks to throw together, that I made special for this con, and put aside everything else on my schedule for. The Doris Danger book continued to be the big seller, even though I’ve been selling it at Bay Area Cons already. It fascinates me that each con there are all these new people coming, even though all these conventions are in the same area, maybe fifteen minutes apart.

A table down from us, there were these guys who said they’d printed up these Kinkos sketchbooks and sold them at a different con for ten bucks each, and made five hundred bucks. They’d never had any published work, but I that sure wasn’t stopping them from doing so considerably better than me at conventions. I only make half that at each con if I’m lucky, at my best cons. What am I doing wrong?  Do I need to just abandon my dreams of making comics, and just do commission work for hire?  Why can’t I get this business thing down?

A guy across from us was doing sketch commissions, and he seemed busy the entire weekend, as opposed to us, who sat around selling nothing, visiting with no one.

Overall it was a decent first day. We were close to making the table back (It was a pretty damn cheap table), and that was really our only expense, besides some food and some gas. We felt confident we’d break even by the end of the convention.

As it closed, I peeked over at Ryan’s, and realized Adam Hughes was over there visiting with him. They hadn’t met, it turned out, but were both familiar with and admirers of each others’ work. Ryan was saying Marvel wanted him to do more covers, but he doesn’t really like that kind of work. He never knows what the story is going to be, and doesn’t like trying to come up with vague, anthemic poses for the same character over and over again. Adam was saying he was a little nervous about getting into sequential narrative again (he’s been telling us he’s got a top-secret new project coming soon, and that it will be comics stories and not the covers he’s been doing all this time). To get his mind geared up for it, he said he pulled out a notebook one day, and just started practicing drawing little scenes, to get his chops and frame of mind back for that kind of work. It was interesting to hear them talk, since they both felt comfortable in different arenas.