What do the Comics owe you? Anything? Nothing?

I've been thinking long and hard about this for a while now, and while of course the answer is obviously "nothing", the matter is more personal for those of us who became so infatuated with the smell of ink on cheap newsprint. We, the aforementioned addicted people, have obviously looked around and tried to figure out ways to make a living off of what we love, whether it meant becoming a dealer, a comic artist, editor or writer, or perhaps a publisher of fan related material. It makes sense to try to find a way to make money doing what you love.

The only problem is that comics is a brutal business. And as I type that, I struggle with how that sounds, yet it is the truth. Every bit of experience I have tells me that is the truth, every interaction that I had with other professionals, from Gene Colan, George Tuska, Herb Trimpe and Dave Cockrum to the modern era artists tells the same story. The American comic business has a relentless series of deadlines on work for hire that will burn a person into the ground unless they are (and I know someone who is) almost inhumanly fast with their pencilling.

Valerie has a list of quotes that she has heard, over her years in editorial, that are chilling, and worth going to read over at her site when you're done here.

So what does comics owe me? Will it give me back my sanity after working two 22-hour days in a row on Good Guys #1 (and still having the book come out late)? Will it give me back my dignity after having to kiss ass to get the next shitty job that was running late out of a company, so that you can get blamed on the work, when the "star" penciller is the one screwing all the others down the line from him? Of course not. But we make our choices. Comics did give me the rush of walking into any comics shop in Manhattan and seeing my name on the cover of the Batman book. That is as singular a thrill as many of us will ever get. Just as any job has the good with the bad, this is the story of what bad you'll take to get the good.

"The problem is that they think comic books owes them. That's the problem with hiring fans."

And the problem with hiring editors that are fans, hiring fans to work on the books. The word professional was bandied about pretty casually inside the industry, when, typically, the industry is anything but. The same people who would complain that an artist didn't handle his or her work professionally, were most likely the same people who begged the artist to take the late job and bring it in on time. The cardinal rule of doing unto others doesn't seem to play out here very well.

One problem is that the comics industry, from Weisinger and Donenfeld in the 40's to now, has been its smallness. Even when the books were selling in the millions, they weren't supported by advertising the way the traditional periodicals were, and so the money being paid out was small, enough to keep an indentured servant class that either didn't know how to do anything else, or didn't want to leave because this what they loved. In the last decade, I know that I did a back flip when I saw the first Mazuchelli cover on the New Yorker. At last we had the chance to go uptown. As anyone, in any career can tell you, options are leverage, and leverage is good. Otherwise, you're in a small industry that has more people, far more people, than work. That is not good.

"And I asked them why I wasn't being hired anymore, give me a reason. I mean, what else am I good at?"

The piecemeal way that American comics are done has also done its share of damage to artists, trapping them into a niche that doesn't allow for them to do anything else, and certainly not to have skills that would allow them other options. In the age of scanned pencils (and Lenil Yu, I'm looking at you) where does the inker go? In the age of Comicraft, where does the letterer go? I somehow doubt that any of us thought, "when I grow up, I'm going to get trapped in a niche!" but that is what happens, and its sad. The artist should, and usually does, go into things will a series of skills, some more developed than others. Just working in one area shouldn't preclude getting the opportunity to show the others. Of course, many times, it does.

Back to choices however. I made the choices that allowed me to get into comics back in 1992 in a niche position, because I couldn't bear to live without seeing my name on that cover. I did make the right choice back then, no matter how many sleepless nights it involved, no matter how much sciatica came from sitting in the same position in the same Brooklyn apartment night after night after night. Because the same shit exists in every profession. So we had all better really enjoy the highs because the lows are the same crappy lows, and we only go around once.

Comics doesn't owe me anything, but it gave me plenty.

Musing from San Diego: Part 1

Call it a reclamation project, a fanciful getaway with tens of thousands of the most interesting geeks possible, or merely a work trip, this is the reality of the San Diego Comic Con. Four days of the most wear and tear that your feet and back can handle, along with all the associated eye strain of thousands of properties vying for your full attention.

(Has anyone ever done a study of the effects of wall after wall of comic book covers on the eyeball? Even for the jaded among us, it has the ability to actually make you want to shut down and stop having to process the visual information that you’re being bombarded with. Seriously.)

Lis Fies and I spent the better part of two days winding our way through the convention to present a number of editors with proposals for our graphic novel Pistoleras, which was my prime focus in going down this year. Considering that I’ve been on the other side of the table at shows like this, (Defiant editors seemed to believe that I could give decent critiques of inking samples without making the prospective comic artist decide that its down, not across, with the paring knife, so I recall spending most of the day at a Chicago Con doing just that) I truly appreciate that time and consideration that we received from Chris Staros, Charlie Kaufman, Dallas Midaugh and Larry Brown, along with a few others, regardless of whether or not they find the project, my artwork or Lis’ script to their liking. Thanks to all who took the time to meet with us.

I was quite happy to meet for a moment with Valerie D’Orazio, whose blog, Occasional Superheroine, I enjoy reading.

I also picked up the new Star Lord by Keith Giffen, Tim Green and Victor Olazaba, which was so much damn fun that I read it twice. It was so much damn fun that I used it as today's graphic as well. As i've mentioned before, I'm actually making a point to follow the Annihilation: Conquest series, for better or worse, siince I love this type of cosmic story. The new Quasar is pretty good, but this issue is great. Giffen, when he holds back just a little before he enters Ambush Bug territory is at his best, and this issue somehow reminds me of the those old Defenders he drew with Steve Gerber, back when Scorpio committed suicide. Tim Green and Victor Olazaba take the art into Moebius territory, which a classic place to go for this story, well aided by Nathan Fairbairn's great coloring. "The Dirty Dozen" indeed, says Quill. If they go into hell to save the Kree, then I'm going with them.

Much more on Comic Con, and reviews on Quasar, the Wraith, Nova and a ton of free comics to follow. Also more on the original art market as well. Stay tuned. Pithy Observations ahead.

Tim's Tirades: Valerie D'Orazio

following up on the Valerie blog, Tim's Tirades has a piece that is the perfect sort of op ed writing that makes me furious. I don't know Tim, he may be a very nice person, but his stand on this needs to be brought out. The original is pretty long, and rambles for a while, so follow the link above when you're done here and read (or skim) the whole thing yourself.

in his thoughts on Occasional Superheroine Tim writes:

There is blood, sweat, and tears (literally and figuratively) all over it and it was a worthy site for Johnston to turn his eye.

And yet…I can’t bring myself to link to it myself.

…Pieces like this always trip me up. Call it my liberal guilt or male guilt or white guilt or whatever. Thrown any label you want on it but the result is the same. I feel lousy for the way things are because, often, I am completely unaware of how bad they are.

Way to get behind Valerie Tim! Way to support a woman who, at the very least, was royally screwed by the corporate politics and messed up medical advice that she was given! Tim then proceeds into a segue over his being fairly sheltered in his life (my paraphrase, but I think a fairly accurate one) to try and justify not actually using his ability as a quasi-news gatherer of things relevent to comic to further support the blog and its efforts to tell a real and courageous story.

Here's a clue Tim: when someone tells you that the world isn't the cozy place that you were brought up to think that it is, don't crawl back into that little shell with a "I'm sorry! I didn't know!". As a human being you have the responsibility to others and not ignore reality, something that comics indsutry has a history of doing.

Don't hide behind the fact that you read and review books that come from the big two and that DC is implicated as her employer. You should be able to detach yourself enough to judge a piece of art or writing without having to encompass all that the company has done since screwing Siegle and Shuster (and actually makeing resitiutions to them and jack kirby in the last 30 years). If you can't, then perhaps reviewing comics isn't a good idea as a career. This industry chews them up and spits them out, and if you can't handle the truth of that, then don't be involved. If you're here, and you have a voice, you have to make a point of praising those who deserve it, and getting on those who don't.

Occasional Superheroine: Valerie D'Orazio

You read superhero comics? You need care about women being as equal human beings? You don't get off thinking about Moulton's Wonder Woman losing her powers when her wrists are bound (wink, wink)? Then you need to read this: Occasional Superheroine

File this under, well, wherever you wish, but horrendous “treatment of a woman” would be suitable key phrase, as would horrible corporate politics, and misogynist as well. Perhaps you could find a hundred different ways to look at this, but should you take the time to read through the posts and see Valerie’s story, it is one of a woman in the comics industry, and it follows the worst possible path that you can think of. It is also, thank god, a survivor’s tale, and brilliantly written, with enough humor to leaven what is almost an unbelievable amount of misfortune, and enough self knowing to acknowledge her own mistakes along the way.

We all are aware that this industry is certainly not bastion of feminism, and, sadly, the Simpson’s comic book guy remains a stereotype that is all too often proven rather than not, but Valerie’s story certainly shows of the inherent sexism in a way that, as a man, I’m aware of but not the victim of.

Valerie uses fake names throughout the piece, but has come public with her own name and so I feel comfortable using it here. She makes many, many salient points on the misogynist origins of many female heroes, and makes a great many points on what the industry could do to improve things. And they’re not all that drastic, but they would involve a rethinking of the "little boys club" mentality that has pervaded the industry for far too long.

Has this had any effect in the offices up at DC? As someone who worked for both Acclaim and DC as a freelancer, I have to imagine that it would be... discussed.

I feel terrible that Valerie had this happen to her, and she deserves our full support as community of readers. That's what I think.