How NOT to Start...

... your career as a comic book writer. Part 2 of 2

In Part 1 (read it here), I confessed to several ways I sabotaged my own efforts to become a comic book writer. In this post, I’ll discuss even more mistakes that fledgling comic creators make. Fortunately, this list consists of things I feel I mostly got right.

The Notion Versus the Reality

❌ Put the emphasis on the “independent” part of independent comic book creator.

✅ Deliberately build your collaborative cohort

There is a real temptation as a writer, and I imagine as an artist, too, to lock the door to your workspace, shut out the world, and pour yourself into your comic. Ultimately, this is a mistake, as creating comics is inherently a collaborative process.

I’m eternally grateful for the people who I’ve met in my comics-related classes and discord groups. There’s something special about being part of a cohort of people, each of whom is at roughly the same stage of their comic career as you, all trying to help each other move forward. Building these sorts of relationships can help build your career; a lack of connections can sabotage it.

And I encourage you not to see your cohort as your competition. It doesn’t matter who is successful first. Having your name front-of-mind with someone who has already gained access to Marvel or DC can be a huge advantage. The more successful a writer or artist becomes, the more likely it is that they will have times when they have more job offers than they can accept. You want to be the top-of-mind person who completes the sentence, “I am too busy to commit to another project, but have you talked to _____?”

Comic classes and comic-focused Discord servers can be great places to meet people from the Comics community. Don’t just watch from the sidelines. Get involved.

❌ DC/Marvel will love my script for [insert favourite superhero here].

✅ Produce work you are proud of to increase the likelihood of being noticed by a publisher.

One thing they don’t tell new comic writers - or, to be fair, something they probably do tell us and we actively ignore - is that working with the Big Two is very, very, very unlikely. In fact, being picked up by any reputable publisher is rare.

As discussed in Part 1 of this series, the number of single issues comic publishers produce just does not support the existence of many comic writer jobs, and I’m only aware of four publishers who regularly [occasionally?] pay writers, in advance, to develop their projects.

In many ways, comic “publishing” is more like a curated comic distribution industry than actual publishing, especially when compared to how things work in the traditional book world. Most publishers expect you to come to them with the writing and the artwork already complete. Sadly, even with something complete, you are more likely than not to be rejected.

To complicate things further, it’s currently impossible to cold pitch your series to DC and Marvel without an invitation. This policy is a CYA procedure meant to protect the companies from legal problems. The sad implication of this gatekeeping is that you can have the best-ever script or pitch ready for DC or Marvel characters and never have it seen. Until you have actually proven yourself to an editor, they won’t even look at your pitch. That’s a hard pill to swallow, but it’s the truth.

My personal solution to this? I wrote the comic I wanted to write and assumed I would effectively be acting as the publisher. Using crowdfunding, and now digital distribution, it is possible to get a passion project like The Lump Sum Saga to market without a publisher. Somewhat ironically, ignoring publishers and just getting your work out there is one of the best ways to be discovered by a publisher.

Would I love to write a series for DC or Marvel? Absolutely. I’m currently sitting on a time-sensitive DC miniseries pitch that I wrote to get it out of my head. I realize it will probably never see the light of day. I also am a huge Nightcrawler fan and have an idea for a series that keeps haunting me. That said, I know I haven’t reached the level of status needed to be invited to the party, and I am OK with that. I do not need the big two to be a comic writer.

❌ I know this is costing me a lot, but I’ll make that back from the movie deal.

✅ Produce comics that leverage the strengths of comics.

Having a movie created from our comics is a beautiful dream, but it is a goal that is outside of our control. Don’t rely on a movie deal to pay you back for your investment of time and money. Sadly, I would argue that even some publishers have fallen for the lure of what Gamal Hennessy calls the “maybe-movie model.”

It could happen one day, but the key part of that is one day. Thanks to the wonders of streaming, we’ve seen several comic properties come to TV and the big screen over the last ten years. However, with very few exceptions, almost all of these movies and television shows are based on properties that have been around for at least 20 years and/or are attached to a celebrity. Putting it bluntly, a movie deal 20 years from now isn’t going to pay the interest due on your credit card this month.

I would also argue that to be the best possible comic writer you can be, you should be producing at least some work that would translate very poorly into a movie. One of my all-time favourite graphic novels is the book “Here” by Richard McGuire, and I always speculated that it would ultimately translate poorly into a movie. I like to fantasize that director Robert Zemeckis saw my quote and said “Hold my beer!” Given the current Rotten Tomatoes score for this Tom Hanks movie is 35%, I think my original assertion has been proven correct.

Comics are a unique art form, and I believe learning to maximize the medium’s potential should be one of your goals as a comics creator. Without spoiling things, I have plans for a comic that includes artwork that is only present under UV light, so the likelihood of that comic ever hitting the silver screen is negligible. This story is my way of leaning into the unique possibilities comics present.

If, at some point in the future, a producer decides to option your script, more power to you. That will be the icing on your creative cake. Just don’t count on it ever happening, and find a way to succeed beyond that dream.

❌ Table early; table often

✅ Attend larger cons to observe and connect, at least initially.

One of the saddest things I ever witnessed at Vancouver Fan Expo involved creators pitching a new graphic novel.

Imagine, if you will, proud creators who had purchased prime real estate - an endcap very close to one of the main entrances to the hall. Behind the table were stacks of neatly piled, graphic novels. Two people, well-dressed and ready to talk, stood behind the table, hands folded politely in front of them. These creators had paid the big bucks to show off what was clearly a graphic novel they were super proud to show off.

And no one stopped. I didn’t see these creators sell a single copy.

Part of this was because of their display strategy. All of the graphic novels were carefully stacked and aligned in such a way that it felt uncomfortable to even pick one up to look at. You know the perfect living room that never gets used because doing so would make it messy? Like that. That issue would have been easy to solve, and I regret to this day not telling them that having two or three books open and ready to read would’ve totally changed the sales at the booth.

The part that they couldn’t do anything about was that they were new. They did not have an existing audience, and they had only one reason to stop at that table. When you are new, it is very, very hard to make a table pay for itself at a large show.

Rather than tabling at a larger show right out of the gate, use your first visit(s) as reconnaissance.

What do I mean by recon? Go to observe. Identify booth setups that are inviting. Wander the floor to get a really good sense of the traffic flow. Identify the unproductive bottlenecks.

Some optimal locations are not as obvious as others. Back in my computer trade show days, some of the best shows I ever had saw our booth far from the entrance but close to the main bathroom. Not only did you get people coming and going, but frequently, people would be waiting for someone who had gone into the washroom and would come hang out at our booth to kill time. Getting a sense for the attractive hotspots will help you when you are actually ready to pay for a booth.

Larger shows are also an opportunity to connect with creators you rarely see face-to-face. I recently attended ECCC, but I did not exhibit. Instead, I wandered from boost to booth and session to session, connecting with people with whom I regularly interact online. I had lunch with Gamal Hennessy, sat in on a session and introduced myself face-to-face to Chris from GlobalComix, and got to meet Brian Bendis and his wife at another session. In the future, I’m even contractually obligated to be at Emerald City to meet with my collaborator, Viktor Farro, to touch base about Ankle Biters.

Instead of paying the big bucks to exhibit at a large show, look for opportunities to practice your pitch at a low-cost/no-cost local show first. Many cities have smaller comic shows, and some even include free tables in “artist alley.” Apply early to these shows, and don’t be disappointed if you get rejected the first couple of times. Get your name into the queue, and you never know what will happen.

Another technique for new creators is to share a table and use that as a learning experience. But the first time you try that, assume you will not sell a single thing. If you can’t rationalize being there for the education, I’d wait.

There is no firm rule as to when you are ready to exhibit at a larger show other than the math has to work. If, for example, a show costs $1500 to attend in terms of table fees, shipping, accommodation, and food, you can calculate how much you’d have to sell to make that back. For a writer, that’s a lot of comics and merch! For an artist, you may be able to make it possible by selling commissions, but even then, the larger shows may still be too expensive at the start of your career.

When I say the math has to work, I do not necessarily mean you have to come out of the weekend with a profit. However, as with all things in life, saying “yes” to something is always saying “no” to something else. Let’s assume the show ends up a $600 loss for you. Is the value of that con education worth more than, say, a multi-session, live, online lettering course?

I’ve decided that tabling now, by myself, with only one physical comic to sell, is just too early. The math just does not work. I am waiting to have at least two comics and some merch available. And even then, my first show will likely be local and, if possible, free.

❌ At all costs, find time to sit and write each and every day.

✅ Attempt to write each day, but not at the expense of your physical and mental health.

The negative consequences of not taking care of your physical health are many. You’ll have a hard time drawing with carpal tunnel syndrome. It will be difficult getting around cons if you struggle to walk. You’ll pay an arm and a leg for travel insurance to get to shows if you have a heart attack. This seems obvious but I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard a comic writer talk about how much more creative they became once they discovered regular exercise. By extension, this means they weren’t taking care of their physical health before. And, sadly, I get that. It doesn’t take a lot of muscle strength or aerobic stamina to type.

It’s also no secret that depression runs rampant among comic creators. I can only speculate that part of this is a result of the general isolation people feel working alone. Couple this with deadline pressure, lack of sleep, and financial stress, and you have a perfect recipe for feeding the “black dog.” In a tragic feedback loop, depression tends to slow a person’s output and make it harder to meet deadlines, adding even more stress that can lead to even more debilitating depression.

Mental and physical challenges come in many forms. In my case, there was one health issue I regret not addressing sooner. I’ve always suspected that I suffer from ADHD, and I had just learned “successful” strategies to cope with it. There were signs. One of the most problematic symptoms for me as a writer was the fact that I could barely read three pages of a comic without falling asleep because it took so much effort to concentrate.

But I was always too busy with other things to look into it. Going with the flow of the status quo was the path of least resistance. The spark for change finally came from a great conversation I had with a friend who highlighted all the benefits she saw when she started on medication for ADHD. I have to admit I didn’t immediately pursue treatment, but when I visited my doctor about a different issue, I asked him about it.

To make a long story short, I started on a low dose of an ADHD med and almost immediately saw huge productivity games. My second week on the meds, I remember thinking it was Friday when it was only Thursday because I had gotten so much done. I’d effectively gained an entire day in my week. And finally, I could read good comics without falling asleep three pages in.

Don’t be like Greg and ignore health issues; be like Greg and take action. Prioritizing physical and mental health should be a non-negotiable. Your comic depends on you being there to complete it.

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This list consists of things I mostly got right. What did I miss? Is there something you did to jeopardize the success of your comic career? I look forward to reading your comments.

In my next post, I’ll discuss my plans for staying in comics in 2025. It feels like I am so close to creating a comics career that doesn’t leave me destitute. I am going to do my best to adjust my course and set things right. I have to. I have stories to tell.