Treating Your Comics Characters Like Actors

Creating characters is a fun exercise. Deciding on their physical attributes, costumes, personality traits and quirks, etc. always gets my head twirling. And thus far, the few comics characters I've created have resonated well with my audience. When I started making comics on my own, I thought that it would serve a story well if I treated my characters like actors, with me as director, and the graphic novel as a movie or a stage play.

In my casual dealings with actors, I hear them harp about the kinds of roles they get, the kinds of roles they end up with, and their dream roles. They judge the quality of a role by how it figures in the whole story, and how challenging it would be to get into a role's groove. "Role" in this case means "contribution." A role has to have enough significance in a story for it to be worth the while.

Actors look for the "character arc" in major roles, and "impact" in supporting roles. If a supposedly major role has no arc of transformation, or if a supporting role doesn't influence the progression of a story, then these roles don't hold a lot of water. Serious actors who get these parts are often in it for the paycheck.

So when you're developing your graphic novel characters, imagine whether or not your "actors" will love the parts you want them to play.

On the other end, there are roles that are simply fun to portray. Not necessarily sidekick or comedy relief roles, these characters have a unique charm about them--in their speech and manner--that actors can play and experiment with. Of course these characters should have some significance to the story, but their appeal rests in their personality.

But if there's one thing that can be gained by treating characters like actors is the idea of "truth." In acting, truth is one of the greatest virtues, and actors always strive to achieve truth when they portray a role.

For the purposes of making comics, there are two levels of truth. The first level is the story and the script. As a comics writer, your job is to imbue as much truth into your characters as possible to make them believable. Your dialogue has to be hinged on the reality of your chosen genre, whether it be Victorian England or the Bronx. If you don't read your script out loud, best that you make this attempt. You'll be able to identify the clunky and rough spots when you do so.

The second level of truth is the performance, via the comics page. Here, you will exercise and hone your ability in designing the character that fits the role, all the way down to how they hold a glass, how they smile, or how they react to different stimuli.

Exercise: Choose a scene from your story involving two people and work out a sample "performance." You set up the location and place your characters in their starting positions. As you progress through the panels, determine how you can bring out more of your character's personalities visually. Take as many panels as you like--don't limit yourself to a fixed number of pages.

As your characters "speak" their lines, what would they be doing? What would be the expressions on their faces? How would they use their hands? How would they move? Do you know enough about your characters to visually take them a step further? Can you take character "risks?" For instance, your actor might ask, "Is it alright if I go here and do this?"

"Oh, on this line in the script I feel like poking."

"Can I have a cat? I think my deviousness will come out more when I'm stroking a cat."

"I think this line is unecessary. Can I just make a long pause?"

"You designed me with long fingernails. I'd like to tap them on something."

And you, the director, can try those suggestions and see whether they work or not. During rehearsals, actors would try different approaches, so allow your characters that luxury. Play out the suggestions in very rough drafts and make a judgment call. Contenting yourself with a "safe" execution deprives you of the richness of nuance inherent in your story.

Then, when you more or less have an idea of how the final scene will play out, make another revision/edit based on the number of pages meant for the scene. You might find yourself chopping out some of the new ideas because you don't have enough screen time, and that's okay. Usually, you'll still end up with a scene that's far richer than how you started out.

Tracking the Physical and the Non-Physical

There are authors who say that there's no such thing as a plot driven story, since at the heart of every story is a character through whom we witness the story unfold. So, effectively, all stories are character driven at varying degrees.

In my book, a plot-driven story is one where there is an obvious focus on physical events. While there may be character development, the resolution of the story is greatly dependent on completion of physical tasks. A character-driven story, on the other hand, has stronger focus on what's going on in the characters' minds. There are physical aspects involved, yes, but the course of the story is dependent on the characters' personality and the emotional risks they take.

Let's look at the diagram below:

In my previous post, I mentioned that every story can be broken down into a series of events connected by a pivot, with each event seeking to "raise the stakes." If it were a diagram, it would look like that shown in Figure A. (click to enlarge)

In Figure A, a story Event has to result in a change of circumstance, whether physical, non-physical or both. In effect, the Event that follows begins with a new set of givens, as depicted in Figure B. This Event-Picot chain continues throughout the story, reinforcing or altering circumstances, building upon one another.

Now Events don't change everything. They either change the environment (what's happening around a character), the character's physical circumstances (e.g. injury, loss of money, gaining of property, relocation, etc.), or non-physical circumstances (relfection, sadness, anger, insanity, loneliness, exuberation, positive outlook, etc.). This is shown in Figure C.

Given this set-up, a plot-driven story is one where the Pivots more often directly affect the environment and the character's physical circumstances. In a character-driven story, the Pivots take more potshots at the non-physical circumstances.

Now, here's the punchline. The Event-Pivot setup in Figure A can be seen as two panels of a comics story. In fact, you can conceivably do a very rough draft of your plot by drawing and writing each event in two panels--the first being the Event itself and the next being the result of that Event as the Pivot. When you do this, it's possible for you to track the physical and non-physical journey of the story, and ensure that each journey reaches a sensible and satisfying ending.

What's important to note is that an Event can be great or small. Even as small as waking up late in the morning. What makes an Event worth stressing is not its scale, but its impact.

"Series of Un/Fortunate Events"

In the previous post, I wrote out a basic outline which can be matched with many traditionally structured dramatic stories. In this outline, I included what I call "Major Pivots" or "Major Twists," though I'm partial to calling them the former, only because other books call it differently.

A Major Pivot is a radical shift in a story's narrative that strongly influences how the next scenes will play out. It's like saying, "Whoa, now THIS changes everything."

We realize that all stories are just a series of events, but what makes an event more compelling is when it institutes a change, great or small, in the physical and/or emotional circumstances of the lead character. If an event does not contribute anything to the whole story, the event is useless and thus unnecessary. As Sandra Scofield says in The Scene Book, every scene has to have a function.

So, effectively, every event or scene you have in your story should end with a pivot, a change.

Event ---> Pivot ---> Event ---> Pivot ...

For a simple example, Joe wakes up late in the morning (event). He starts off his day frustrated (pivot). The roads are clogged with traffic (event), leading to greater frustration (pivot). His girlfriend calls him up on his mobile and berates him for failing to remember her birthday (event), convincing Joe that the day isn't going to be a breeze (pivot). And so forth and so on.

Notice that every event contributes to a change in Joe's mental/emotional state. They all add up, fueling Joe's negativity, and orient the readers into the development of Joe's state of mind.

Now all these are just little itty-bitty pivots. Individually they're not much, but provide indisputable impact on Joe's growing ire. But somewhere along the line, according to your grand story plan, you will introduce a Major Pivot, after an event that will bring about a whammy of an impact. Every pivot before it was the fuel, and then you light the match.

The Major Pivot comes into the story first with the Inciting Incident, or that one event that will provoke your major character into doing something, the action core of your plot. At this point, your character thinks, "It's going to take a lot of work, but I have to do this!" This tells the reader that, "Okay, this is the reason you're reading this story." Will your main character succeed or not?

The next few events and pivots involve your main character in the process of trying to achieve his goal. There will be Complications that will test your character's patience. The second Major Pivot happens after you throw in your first mother monkey wrench. This is the point wherein you character says, "This isn't as easy as I thought." Doubt begins to set in.

After that, your character continues to pursue his goal but with a little more caution. You introduce a series of more events, each one changing the character's assessment of the situation. He begins to think that's he's got it all figured out. Then, boom! You throw in your next monkey wrench, but this time from left field. Your main character goes for a tailspin. The Major Pivot happens--your main character is left with very little, if not a single, option. In other stories, the main character throws in the towel.

The third act comes in, and the next series of events is meant to put your main character back in the situation in time for the home stretch. The "final battle" happens--will the story's Conclusion place your character as a success or a failure? That's your choice. The Denouement caps your story as a postscript, essentially allowing your character to assess what has happened, if he survives.

Again, the above is a very simple approach. It can actually become more comprehensive than that. And an event does not have to be physical. It can be emotional, mental, even spiritual. What is important is that each event contributes to the escalation of your story's urgency, repeatedly challenging your character's intent of pursuing the goal.

Now we go to your chosen plot. What is your inciting event? What are your monkey wrenches? Indicate them with conviction--encircle them or highlight them with a marker. If you're not convinced that these events are strongly significant, then you may have to rework the events a bit by giving them more punch. Traditionally there can only be one inciting event and a couple of monkey wrenches. Having three is still okay if you have a particularly long story; more than three can tire your reader into thinking, "When is this ever going to end?" And you wouldn't want that.

In my next post, I'll talk about "plot-driven" and "character-driven" stories, and how you can figure character action and emotion into your story using the Event/Pivot scheme. It's very simple, at least theoretically.

Cover Matters 2

If you want to earn the favor of someone, you have to speak their language. You have to present to them what they expect of you, whether they be your parents, your friends, a lover, or an employer. This is a crucial part of the marketing mix. To be able to connect to what your audience is looking for is a foot in the door towards making a sale.

So far, in the comics industry, you know a comic book when you see one. The covers are pretty standard, pretty traditional in execution. There's a whole culture surrounding it. Despite the innovations we've seen over the past decade, the overall sensibility remains the same. And this sensibility has been successful in drawing the comic book crowd in.

However, it's possible that these covers reinforce the stigma surrounding the medium. If we're looking to attract a non-comics reading crowd to our work, we need to speak their language. Our closest point of reference is the bookstore.

With that, the graphic novel covers shown above aren't real. I cooked them up as an experiment. (Trademarks belonging to Marvel.)

If, the moment you first laid eyes on these make-believe covers, you've been hit by at least squint-level curiosity, then what does this say about the power of a cover to get the attention of a passerby?

Granted, the Scarlet Witch and the X-Men are somehow familiar to comics fans, but what these covers seek to do is to rip these characters out of context and present them in a different light--one that doesn't scream superhero. To the comics person, these covers may seem baffling. There's no image of any character on the covers. There's no dynamic pose, no speed lines, nothing to suggest a superhero story.

But I'll go back to what I said in the first installment of Cover Matters. The cover is a promise, and the promise can be as fundamental as red shoes. To some of you, the Scarlet Witch cover can be mistaken for a piece of "chick lit." Think "Devil Wears Prada" or "Shopaholic," in a genre that I'd suppose could inspire an interesting superhero-drama story involving Wanda Maximoff.

Wanda: "You don't understand how I feel! You're incapable of feeling anything!"
Vision: [attempting to compute]

The X-Men cover moves the mutant superhero story well into the sci-fi realm. This cover can may as well fit in the science fiction section of a bookstore. The story can contain the usual flashiness of an X-Men tale, but the cover envelops the story in a non-superhero context. For these two covers, the only thing that gives them away is the tag "A Graphic Novel." There's no deception involved.

So will these covers really attract a non-comics reading audience? I honestly don't know. But what I do know is that if you want your graphic novel to reach a new audience, you need to think out of the box. And a good place to start is finding out what your target audience is looking for in a book cover.

Making Your Story Stick 2

No, my projects aren't done yet, but I feel the need to continue blogging here, even if only on a sporadic basis. There may have been a few who have repeatedly visited despite my previous post, and I can only express my sincerest gratitude for your patience.

With that said, on we go...

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In the first installment of "Making Your Story Stick," I outlined three of the six factors comics creators can use in developing their stories. These six factors are based on Chip and Dan Heath's book, "Made To Stick." The first three factors are simplicity, unexpectedness and concreteness. Let's move forward to the latter three.

1) Credibility. By far one of the more difficult to achieve, credibility is one of the more crucial. In a crowded industry where many comics creators hope to find their place in the sun, levels of credibility set them apart. Do you know how to piece together a compelling plot? Can you write memorable dialogue? Is your research extensive? If you're a writer/artist, are your skills balanced? Can you maximize the unique qualities of the medium?

Applying Credibility: To be able to enhance your credibility, you only need to do one thing: Hone Your Skills. If you feel you need a workshop, invest in joining one. If you can find a mentor, do so. If you can post samples on your personal website or blog, present your best work and take criticism objectively. If you get encouraging feedback, don't rest on your laurels. Push yourself to do better.

The strange thing about credibility is that you can create the illusion of credibility through deep insight. You don't have to have years of concrete artistic experience to be credible, but a unique viewpoint, and a novel manner of delivering that viewpoint. The best example I can think of right now is Diablo Cody, the lauded screenwriter of the equally lauded film Juno. Not a seasoned writer by any means, Cody put herself in an enviable position with an Academy Award nomination--and she's just in her mid-twenties. Her weapon? Honesty.

2) Emotional. Over the course of this blog, you've read about creating a central character that should speak to the reader. The emotional factor is that part of your story that effectively places the reader in the shoes of the central character. You may have heard of comic book plots that harp on concept and action, rarely touching on the protagonist's emotional base. While concept-driven stories can be cool, these stories can only sustain themselves for so long. What's cool today may not be cool tomorrow.

That's why the emotional base is important. Emotional struggles are timeless.

Applying Emotions: When you're developing your story, you would most probably start with defining what your story is about in a sentence. It's the overall plot that states who wanting what against something--that's what's your story is about. But what is your story really about? Where is your lead character coming from? Why is he or she doing all this? As an exercise, take your lead character into a room and post the question, "Why?" If your character says, "Someone's gotta do it," or "Justice must be served," then give your character a good whacking on the head. As a creator, you made the character--you have every right to probe.

So while you're plotting out the way your story physically unfolds, do involve your character's emotional journey as well. The whole essence of the emotional factor is answering the reader's need: "What's In It For Me?" Use your story to tickle something within the reader--fear, anxiety, sorrow, enthusiasm, lust, longing, celebration, etc.--and offer a payoff your reader seeks. This trumps "cool" anytime.

3) Stories. Stories not only convey ideas. Stories reinforce ideas. In almost any social setting, we use stories to drive a point across, to strengthen or dispel notions, even to manipulate. In our daily lives, stories figure into how we view our circumstances as well as those of others--whether these stories come from the evening news, or through banter over a billiard game.

Have you ever been in on a fence wherein your thoughts are conflicted because of two or more opposing takes on a situation? Your girlfriend says one thing and you best bud says another? The conflict sucks you in, and you're caught in the struggle for not just the truth, but the absolute truth. The truth that you would eventually choose to believe in, and suffer for. (Political thrillers have a lot of these little stories, since most characters are allied with an ideology which they will defend, tooth and nail. These characters believe they're right--it's the writer who decides who will win.)

Applying Stories: When you develop your story, every character you have has a story to tell, and many of these stories-within-your-story are meant to place your lead character in that tight situation of determining what's right or wrong. Some stories will have more weight than others. Some stories will be irrelevant, but will add color to the overall narrative. The idea is to make your big story a living, breathing thing. A straight line, yes, but with many coils in between, tight knots your lead character has to unravel or leave alone.

Your comments, criticism, and insight will be most appreciated.

Making Your Story Stick

Every year, thousands of stories flood the marketplace, but only a few will stand out, only a few will be talked about, and only a few will be remembered down the line. Creating a story that's "made to stick" can help generate powerful word-of-mouth and leave a lasting impression, as well as translate to long-term sales.

But what is a story that's "made to stick?"

Chip and Dan Heath's amazing book, Made To Stick, defines six key qualities for an idea to successfully linger in the minds of people. Though the hardcover volume is a business book, the six key qualities can serve as a criteria set for comics creators in developing their stories.

Let's go through them one by one:

1) Simplicity. While circuitous plot lines, complex concepts, and in-depth research can add a lot of flavor, stripping your story to its core not only helps you keep your narrative in focus, it helps your readers focus as well, ensnaring their senses from the first page to the last. I remember that Sandra Bullock "psycho-thriller" flick Premonition, one that was highly engaging for the most part until the "duh" moment at the end. Not that I dislike religious-themed movies, but where's the consistency? I also heard that the ending of Steven Spielberg's A.I. was a let-down as well. The point is, if you promise your audience a roller coaster ride, give it to them lock, stock and barrel. Never let the roller coaster suddenly morph into a ferris wheel.

Applying simplicity: Describe your whole story in one to two sentences, the way screenwriters do their loglines. Then do a one-page plot summary, defining the main character, the overall conflict, and the denouement. This results of the exercise will help you define exactly what your story is about, as well as be your beacon when you are tempted midway to make a detour.

2) Unexpectedness. Everyone likes a story surprise. One that stops the heart for a few seconds, leaving you breathless for what's going to happen next. One moment that stuck to my mind was an X-Men issue, where Hank McCoy discovers the shattered body of Emma Frost. Another moment happened in a Civil War issue, where during the climactic battle Captain America suddenly realizes "We're no longer fighting for what we believe in. We're just fighting." Or something to that effect. In film, M. Night Shyamalan wielded that magic, though it didn't last very long. And how about that moment in Independence Day when aliens blew up the White House?

The key to capturing and holding an audience's attention is to subject them to ever increasing complexity. When you move from one scene to the next, one encounter to the next, you need to sprinkle in some intensity, a twist, a discovery, a revelation...anything that will prompt the audience to ask, "How is the lead character going to solve all this?" And the complications can run the gamut from physical to emotional to spiritual extremes, depending on the nature of your story. The great thing about being unexpected is that you're forced to flex more creative muscles, especially when you have to tie them all up neatly in the end.

Applying Unexpectedness: The surprises in a story usually happen at the end of the first act (when the main conflict is introduced), at key points of the second act (to escalate the intensity of the story), and the climax. They sometimes happen in the denouement as well. There are small surprises and big surprises, each to be revealed at major points in your story. The objective, again, is for your story to gain momentum until the climax. You would want to avoid clumping a lot of small surprises together--this can build impatience. Ditto for clumping big surprises together--you don't want to exhaust your audience.

3) Concreteness. This is similar to "simplicity," but focuses more on solidifying concepts and abstractions to aid audience comprehension. Chris Claremont did this in almost every issue of his X-Men run--defining what mutants are, who the X-Men are, what they're fighting for--wherever he got the chance. In superhero comics, heroes would more often explain what their powers can and can't do. This practice has been done excessively, but it helps people know and remember why certain things happen in a story.

Applying concreteness: While it's always good to "show, not tell" in comics, you may have to do some telling when the showing isn't enough, especially if you're introducing a high concept. When your story is set in an alien world with an alien culture, it's best to tell your audience what's going on instead of trying to coax them into figuring things out for themselves. Likewise for a new technology or philosophy. Because many people don't want to get too bogged down mentally when all they're looking for is entertainment. You'd want your reader to stick with your story, not your concept.

In my next post, I'll go through the last three qualities: credibility, emotional, and stories.

To All Fledgling Comics Creators: How Strong is the Passion?

Many, if not most, comics professionals will tell you that making comics is a fool's pursuit. They don't make a lot of money, but they still churn out story after story, page after page, book after book. And they do so while they spend most of their waking hours in their day jobs. I've been employed full time for over 12 years, and have written or drawn comics on and off for the past 15.

But I still have my day job, and I'm still making comics.

Jennifer de Guzman paints a bleak picture for aspiring comics creators in her column over at the Slave Labor Graphics website. And I quote:

"The First Reality: You are not likely to get rich, or even make a decent living, by creating comics. Yes, there are exceptions to this, but you cannot start out thinking of yourself as an exception because, odds are, you are not."

And this is true. Given the current state of the industry where there are a few major players and truckloads of minor players, as well as the commercial limitations and cultural biases against the medium, only a select few will get that big break. And among the select few, even fewer will be able to make a decent living out of making comics.

In many a forum, newbies have posted the question, "How do I make comics?" And they usually air this question because they've got a cool story swimming in their heads and want the world to know about it. The usual reply would be, "Why do you want to make comics?" If it's about the money, as the replies would go, it's very a steep climb and money shouldn't be a prime motivator.

But then, in my opinion, money is the prime motivation and a valid one at that.

We all know that making comics is a challenging endeavor, and those who make them know that it will be an indelible part of their lives. Their passion for making comics sustains them, hell or high water, and the financial rewards are the bonus.

But this is different from the desire to devote a career to making comics. To be able to succeed at making comics as a career, the passion should be a given. No one can imaginably sustain a career in making comics if there was no passion behind it. That's why newbie job interviews for most fields involve the question, "Why are you interested in this job?" Employers want to know and test an applicant's passion for what the job entails before considering the applicant for the post. Passion is a key criteria for employers because they know it would be inconvenient for them in the long run if they realize that the applicant was there for the money alone.

If a person were in a stressful job (like making comics) purely for the money, he'd reach a point where he'd reevaluate his priorities. Passion would otherwise make him endure.

So I think it's a given that all aspiring comics creators and graphic novelists have passion for the craft. They seriously want to make comics no matter what. The real question, however, is how strong the passion is. How long it can last.

Passion can make a person do crazy, unconventional things, particularly when it involves a powerful interest from extreme sports to wild animal handling. But passion can also be a powerful drive to pursuing excellence. For one, passionate people don't find shortcuts; they want to know as much as they can every step of the way. They take the long route of discovery and application.

Passionate people also know that their greatest enemies are pride and self-preservation. Pride stunts their growth, gives them that "know it all, I'm better than him" attitude, and thus prevents them from opening up to learning opportunities. Self-preservation, on the other hand, inhibits them from taking risks. This is practiced by pro creators who sacrifice sleep and socializing in favor of the comics that craves to be made. How many times have we slept at near sunrise knowing that we have an important appointment at 9:00 in the morning?

Passionate people can't help themselves. They would ask, "Why the hell am I doing this?" but continue anyway. Reality is a deterrent they're able to cheat or circumvent, even deny, by hook or by crook.

So for the aspiring comics creator, I won't put you down when you say you're in it for the money, because I know that you won't last very long. Down the line, something's going to divert your interest or promise you a higher paycheck. If outside the comics field is where you're really meant to go, then best of luck to you.

But when you have enough passion, you'll pull out all the stops in finding out all you need to know:

1) You'll want to find out how to write a great story. Not a story that'll just satisfy your childhood dream, but a story that's logical and properly structured, laden with an interesting protagonist, colorful characters, and an overwhelming threat. You'll want to learn the nuances of dialog and enjoy real research. In your story, you'll want to explore the possibilities of your storyline and not limit yourself to conventions. You'll go to the library or the bookstore for writing books. You'll write and revise over and over.

2) You'll want to find out how to effectively visualize your story in comics form, and fine tune your illustration skills. You'll waste paper, spend hours in front of the computer, and invest in more drawing materials than the average Joe. You'll take the pros as inspiration, but take time to develop your own style. You'll learn perspective and anatomy from art books, not comic books.

3) You'll want to learn how to attract the interest of an audience. You'll read about the comics industry. You'll read about the book industry, and publishing in general. You'll try alternative means of producing, distributing and promoting your work. You won't limit yourself to an overcrowded specialized market, and determine what other people are looking for beyond spandex, in the genre of your choice. You'll research on how to write professional query letters and press releases. You'll want to learn how to directly contact people who can help you. You'll want to learn how to make more sales at the shortest time possible...without sounding desperate.

And finally...

4) You'll want to learn how you can effectively share what you've learned as an inspiration (or a kind warning) to others.

That's passion. It's a crazy little thing, but it can take you places. Crazy places and insightful situations. With the graphic novel still in its relative infancy, there's no way but up. Maybe not in cash, but definitely in tons of experience.

Are Graphic Novels Crowded Out?

They say that the market for comic books and graphic novels isn't that large, since the entertainment industry has been dishing out numerous options to the public, all vieing for consumers' hard-earned dollars.

While there may be some truth to this notion, I firmly believe that the market is still large enough.

Thousands of products and services get launched every year, but while there are some of them that tank so deep it hurts, there are those who catch the attention of a sizeable number of people, big enough to translate marketing efforts to profits. For instance, there are dozens of smartphones in the market, with Nokia, Sony-Ericsson, Samsung, Motorola, Palm, and others in a continuous struggle for dominance in their respective niches. But, lo and behold, a company popular for its computer chips decided to join the fun. Asus now has a few smartphones out in the market, and there's little indication that they're failing.

Then there are social networking sites, and even until now I can't fathom why people still find themselves registering in the new sites when there's already Friendster, Multiply, MySpace, Ringo, etc. I thought that I've had it, content with my Friendster and Multiply accounts, but now I'm semi-obssessed with Facebook. Now, there are networking sites that are interest specific--book lovers, comics enthusiasts, visual artists, pet lovers, and a whole lot more.

Yes, it's crazy, but the point is: people are always on the lookout for something new.

Those who are really familiar with Japanese comics will tell you that manga isn't just about high school, or sorcery, or cool characters in Cosplay-worthy costumes. Manga has been used for the longest time to tell stories about a whole lot of things, from cooking to golf. Early this year, I was given a copy of a graphic novel about Warren Buffett (yes, that Warren Buffett). It told his life story, but focused on how he managed to build himself up from stock brokerage ingenue to one of the richest people in the world. And the graphic novel was created by one Ayano Morio-- a woman.

Comics creators should, now more than ever, exert efforts to quell the stigma surrounding comics. We lament how the general public doesn't take comics seriously, and yet we ironically create stories that reinforce the stigma. If we want to erase the belief that comics are just superhero kids' stuff, why can't we create comics that aren't about superheroes? Why can't we create comics with rich plots, complex characters and mature themes? Why can't we put some effort into bringing out the unique storytelling abilities of comics?

I think the challenge facing a lot of aspiring graphic novelists is impatience. Many prose novelists take a year or two to plan, outline, research, write, and rewrite their novels. Some even write whole chapters only to discard them later on because the stories "weren't working." While it can be argued that it's easier for prose writers since their only physical output are words on paper, as opposed to graphic novelists who write, draw, ink and letter, the rule doesn't change. To make a really great product, we have to invest a lot in its creation.

So why not test yourself this coming 2008? If you want to be a better writer, study good novels and movies. Read how-to books on fiction and screenplay writing. Invest time in putting together a script for a non-superhero story. Find your unique voice. Explore.

If you want to be a better artist, be meticulous about your craft. Go through non-comics anatomy and perspective books. Study composition. Create your personal style. Download a script of a screenplay or a stageplay and do a sequential study of a scene. Try different approaches to storytelling. Explore.

When you've gained a little more confidence, create a short comics story that's not for the superhero market. As I've been mentioning over and over in this blog, the field is still open for fresh stories. And a well-crafted story will find its audience despite the rain of carrots from the entertainment industry.

Collective Force

My previous post offered a proposal to writers that provides an opportunity to get their work published without having to suffer through getting attention from the top comics companies. I, for one, have submitted stuff to Marvel and DC, but I never heard from them. So I went about things on my own, and it's had its fine share of rewards. With the pillars of the comics industry shaken over the past few years with the entrance of manga and the surge of the reputation of the graphic novel, writers can take this as a heavenly sign that there is life beyond the system. A very tough life, but survivable when prepared.

Jog my memory for a bit, please. Years ago, a few comics writers came up with an imprint that seemed to be the writer-counterpart of Image's power roster of artists. That imprint didn't survive for very long. I'm not sure what happened, but my major uneducated guess is that they were still subjects to the demands of an audience with specific needs for "coolness." It's not that comics fans didn't want well-written and well-conceptualized stories. But, let's face it, coolness is a requisite barometer in the industry--cool action scene, cool dialog, cool costume, cool power, cool story, cool everything.

But if these writers had broken away from the system to produce stories that addressed audiences whose definition of a good story isn't restricted by a thermometer reading, they may have had a better success rate.

The commercial environment for the graphic novel has never been more open to possibilities, and writers can dive right into it while there aren't a lot of players. If you're a writer who wants to do, say, Harlequin-type romances in a comics format, you'll be better off writing a full length novel instead of banging the doors of Marvel or DC. The good news, however, is that there may be other writers who are like you.

Form a small group with your fellow writers and pursue your vision as a collective, with a primary objective being getting stuff published no matter what. Produce anthologies revolving around specific themes, and treat your finished product as a book. Packaged as a book, marketed as a book. In fact, you can even intersperse your comics stories with short prose, using a 70-30 page ratio in favor of comics. The best examples I can think of are the hard-bound horror anthologies published by Dark Horse.

If your group makes a horror anthology, sell it to horror fans. Try to get a good word in from the Horror Writers Association. Ditto for romance anthologies--I'd like to think that the Romance Writers of America would be open to looking through it, and there may be romance fans who'd like a few stories complemented by imagery.

The advantages of creating a collective are:

1) Sharing of resources. Some members may know more people. Some members may have a little more money. Some members may have more industry knowledge. Some members may have more solid writing experience. The sum is indeed stronger than the individual parts.
2) Sharing of workload. Because the collective is a team, tasks can be delegated.
3) Sharing of feedback. Because you're all writers, you can critique each other's works and help each other grow.
4) All-for-one promotion. During interviews, members can promote the collective's name, and even the works of other members. The members' websites are linked to each other, and the collective's website links to all members. If the members are from different states, promotional efforts can be simultaneously executed over a larger geographic area. If members are from the same state, promo efforts can be fast-tracked, with each member assigned to specific counties.
5) Impression of legitimacy. A solid group gives the impression that the members are serious about fulfilling their goals.
6) Future profitable activities. Conduct regular workshops. Produce how-to books. Not as individuals, though, but as a collective of talent. Everyone pitches in, and everyone gets a share of the profits.

The most difficult thing to manage in a collective of this sort is ego. The next is creative differences. Money and distribution of workload can also get in the the way. So the collective has to make sure it gets those issues out of the way before even going full throttle. Try one project first, and see how the members work together. When the project is done, do a post-production meeting to identify problems and possible future problems. In the end, it is the passion for the goal that should trump all difficulties.

Oh, and one more thing. When you come up with a name for your group, avoid--AVOID--those that seem to sound "cool." You're all grown-ups working outside the system, so while you have to go interesting, stimulating, or witty, you also have to go professional.

Cover Matters

Before I start, here's something you can do. When you've pinpointed that special something your graphic novel has to offer, as well as a possible potential audience, head for the bookstore and dive into the fiction books section.

Find books that more or less match your graphic novel, and pick out the covers you like, but ignoring those books that have big-name authors. Relative unknowns or debuting novelists are your targets. Read the description on the back cover, then return those books that don't appeal to you that much.

The remaining books you have can serve as your template for the kind of cover your graphic novel will have.

For the aspiring graphic novelist who's contemplating on a cover design, there's one overall principle to designing an effective cover:

A book cover is a promise.

And that's the most fundamental idea to keep in mind when you design your graphic novel cover. This is why we pick up books. We see the cover and the images, or colors, or titles appeal to us in ways more than other covers. These appealing covers make us curious, giving us enough reason to pick them off the shelf. Saying, "It spoke to me," applies strongly here.

We look at the back cover, and read what the book is about. The description offers a premise, more often with a simple description of the lead character. These descriptions contain a form of magic--the words tickle and entice, intrigue and mystify. They're telling you subliminally, "Have we got the story you want to read! Buy me! Buy me!"

Front cover and back cover work together to form the book's promise.

Book designers go over the book contents and talk to editors, searching for that one aspect of the story that will appeal to an intended audience. Romance novels succeed by displaying images fulfilling a women's deep fantasies, while horror novels love to use dark colors with generous servings of red or silver. Sometimes a cover will feature a mysterious object, or the facade of an ancient structure, or a landscape, all suggesting certain moods. Other covers make heavy use of a special typeface, the titles covering up most of the front cover, meant to stand out from a bookstore shelf.

Of course, the results of the above exercise shouldn't constrain you in exercising creative freedom. But do note that your cover is like the face of a person, and the expression of on that face tells the world what lies in the heart and soul.

Going to superheroes as an example. There was a time when comics readers complained about that trend of painted covers, featuring a character (more often female) in some superheroic or pseudo-erotic pose. While these images looked good they defeat the purpose of the cover. While the character is indeed in the book, the book itself is not painted. And a simple pose gives little hint to what's going to happen in the story. This strategy may have worked for fans, since they'd pick up a book no matter how the cover is rendered, but in principle it fails to attract newer readers who only have so much money to spend.

Some of the better graphic novel covers I've seen are Blankets, Maus, and 30 Days of Night. Each have their way of presenting their contents, and they make a promise that the stories keep. So when you're contemplating a cover, make several options. Because the so-called cool covers are pointless if they don't serve their purpose.

Finding Your Potential Audience 2

Before we proceed, two things...

First, the survey you send out as outlined in the previous post is meant for those who don't normally buy comics. This is important, because you'd want to find out if there are people outside of the comics buying set who might be interested in your story. Again, send out as many as you possibly can.

If you want to be more specific, here's an alternative. Check you main character. Since your main character is the one through whom your reader experiences your story, this character would be your template for possible survey respondents. If your story is about a woman in her 30s, send email to women between 26 and 40, with a few men thrown in there of around the same age range. If your story is about a young male superhero, go for the 14 to 24 male group, with some females included to widen the field.

Secondly, and this is a lengthy one, let's look at some figures:

Let's assume that you're situated in California.

According to the US Census Bureau, California has a population of 33.8 million as of the year 2000. For the same year, the population count of those from 20 to 34 years old is about 7.6 million. A lot of people. We've isolated the 20 to 34 year old bracket because we're assuming that it would be this age range who might be interested in your graphic novel offering. (Something a bit on the mature side, maybe a PG-rating).

It's safe to assume that by this time, the population numbers have gone up a bit.

Now, as of October 2007, the highest selling comic book issue through Diamond is New Avengers #35, with orders of over 111,000. Only. Normally, this doesn't translate to actual retail store sales. How much of these have gone to California? We don't know, but it's a safe bet that it's far, far less.

If the USA has a population of 303 million, California would have 11.15% of the US population. A loose assumption would be that the number of New Avengers #35 issues that reach California would be a little over 12,300 copies. Only. And that's already California, and note again that not all copies will reach the hands of buyers. What more a smaller state?

Why am I telling you this? For superhero books, the market is small, and the market is crowded.

For the aspiring superhero graphic novelist who wants to release a comic book, he needs to look beyond the superhero market and look for secondary markets. Markets that might be interested in what the creator has to offer but wouldn't normally pick up a comic book.

Hence the exercise of the previous post.

To tabulate the results of your survey, you would need a spreadsheet program like Microsoft Excel of OpenOffice Calc. If you don't know how to use these programs, pen and paper would do well, though the results would take longer to reach.

Focus on those who answered YES to the first question. Isolate their ages and their gender. Find a trend. What are the common ages? The common gender? If the results aren't clear cut, try and send out more email requests until you get a "data trend" or results that seem to point at a specific market.

When you're done with that, check the answers to the fourth question, and set aside those who answered more negatively. Focus on those who have more positive answers and see if the trend has changed. Again, this is why you ned a lot of respondents to your questionnaire. You'll have an easier time finding a trend.

The results of question number five will tell you if the respondents comprising your isolated results have the financial capacity to buy books on a semi-regular basis. The more books they've bought, the better the chances that they'll have room for your book.

Here comes the nice part. Check again the results of your isolated group for the first question. See what they liked about your story. Is there something common about their statements? Is there a general sentiment about what they liked? Bingo! Now you have information that can help you put together a press release with your story's unique selling point.

How about the results of questions six and seven? Find out the common websites they visit, or those sites you can assume would have high traffic. They can be venues where you can send a press release or post information about your book.

And the establishments? Well, since your potential market goes to those places, you think you can get some copies of your books in there? Or maybe free previews with an email address where readers can write you?

But before you send out press releases and visit commercial establishments, the last thing you should do is verify the information you've discovered. How? Find other people who match your isolated potential market. Get in touch with as many as you can and make a friendly request for them to read your story. You can include in your email some of the responses you've received from your original survey to possibly get them interested.

If you get at least 50% positive responses from this "verification stage," you may just have found your other market, as well as some leads on how to get your book to them.

Finding Your Potential Audience

Here's something you can do. Post the first few pages--10 to 12 would suffice--on your website, then send a nice email to your friends and relatives, preferably people of different ages, and a good mix of male and female. The more people you write, the better (go as high as humanly possible). Oh, and make sure you know their ages.

Ask them for thirty minutes of their time to read your work, stressing that you're doing this for your personal growth as a writer, then email you back. They don't have to do it right away, but you would appreciate it if they could spare some time over a weekend. In their return email, have them briefly and very honestly answer the following questions:

1) Is the story the kind that interests you? Yes or no.

2) If your answer to the first question is "yes," please specify that part of the story that interested you. If your answer to the first question is "no," please enumerate two or three stories that you've read and really liked.

3) Do you know someone who might be interested in a kind of story like this, like a friend or relative, preferably someone I haven't met yet? Yes or no.

4) Did it matter that the story was told in comics form? Yes or no, and why.

5) How many fiction books have you bought in the past six months?

6) Please name five commercial establishments--restaurants, stores, bars, etc.--that you frequently go to. Also, please name three special interest websites that you frequently visit.

7) In a newspaper or news website with lots of different sections, what sections do you more often read? Politics? Arts and Culture? Finance and Business? Entertainment? Fashion and Lifestyle? Sports? Motoring? The advice columns? The opinion pages? Something else? Please specify three.

This is a simple piece of market research. The results can give you an idea of the market segment who might be interested in your work. Do note a few things:

a. The people you know would most probably give you thirty minutes of their time. Plus, you'll most likely get serious answers when you tell your friends and relatives that you're doing this for "your personal growth as a writer," as opposed to "I wanna sell this!"

b. You're not going to ask them to read your comics, but your story. Arguably, the word "story" carries more weight than "comics," so there's less chance that there'll be the dreaded bias against the medium.

c. You'll be asking them if they know someone, a "referral," who might be interested in your story. Send a follow up email and ask if it's alright to ask if you could contact the referral. Once you have the contact information, send a new email with the same message and questions, except #3. You don't want to bother any more people.

d. Depending on the answers you get for #4, you'll more or less know if the person is open to reading comics as an alternative storytelling medium.

e. The answer for #5 can tell you if they're the kind of people who buy fiction books on a regular basis. The more books they buy means that they're the type who can go out of their way to get a book.

f. The answers for #6 will give you insights on the lifestyle and purchasing power of your respondents. This information is valuable because it can help you find other people who might be interested in checking out your work.

g. The answers for #7 gives a rundown of topics that your respondents are interested in.

What happens next? Tabulate. Isolate those who answered positively in the first five questions, and try to pin down what's common among them. Are they mostly male or female? Are they mostly single or coupled? Are they mostly teenagers, young adults, or mature adults? Do most of them frequent a specific set of establishments? Do most of them frequent a specific set of websites? This is why the more people you get answers from, the easier it gets to isolate a distinct "potential target market."

By the way, don't forget to thank everyone you send emails to, even if they tell you that they can't help you. After all, we need to be professional about these things.

Do you have an idea what to do with the information you've culled together? We'll go into that in my next post.

Fundamental Rules In Promoting Your Comics

Say you've put together a formula for lemonade that would revolutionize the lemonade industry, and you're sure it'll hit big time. Surely you've got to promote your new discovery. Who will you approach first to take a swig of it?

A potential customer, of course.

It baffles me sometimes how comics creators would put together a comic and then start promoting it by telling other comics creators about it. It's like giving samples of your lemonade to other lemonade stands.

To promote your creation effectively via other comics creators, you need to personally approach a few and ask them for if your work is good enough for them to support. You need to isolate a special group of people who could vouch for you, as opposed to sending a blanket email to everyone in a mailing list and hoping that someone would bite.

What's more, sending a blanket email is tantamount to subjecting your work to general scrutiny, and there's a good chance that you'll receive either critique after critique from other creators you don't know from Adam, plus perhaps a consoling pat on the back, or no response at all, unless that's what you want.

The next avenue you need to take is to isolate that specific group of readers who might be interested in the subject of your work. If your superhero graphic novel is for kids, go ahead and send a press release to kids' publications or websites. Got one for the sports fanatics? Find your way into sports magazines and blogs.

What I did in the past was to prepare packages (or "press kits") that contained a short article about the book, information on where the book can be bought, and images of the cover and a few pages. The article mentioned who the book was written for (target market) and why the book is worth their time, or at least a tidbit that might stimulate audience interest. I also included a copy of the book.

When the packages were done, I researched the names of newspaper editors, particularly the lifestyle and entertainment sections. Then I physically delivered the labeled press kits to the newspaper offices.

What happened next? Over the next couple of weeks, my press release appeared in three newspapers, and one of them even had a review. Though sales weren't that high because only three stores had my book in stock (a distribution issue), I'd say my effort was worth it.

The aspiring comic creator can do the same, but digitally. Scour the web for sites that you believe might take interest in the subject matter of your book and hit the editors with a nice, formal email, expressing interest in sending a press release. See what happens. If you don't get responses, try other sites. Try blogs. Or post your press release in interest-specific message boards (if the terms of use allow such things). While you're at it, make an inquiry with printed magazines and community newspapers.

At this point, the aspiring comic creator would do well to try non-comics related venues for promotion. The medium has been getting increased popularity over the past few years. It's time to bank on it.

How To Write Comics: Addendum

In my previous post, I recommmended that beginning comic book writers check out screenplay writing books in order to get a feel of the different storytelling elements and the complexities involved in stringing a good and tight story together. After all, motion pictures (television or movies) are similar to comics in as far as the image+text connection goes.

However, comics writers should note that screenwriters operate on the premise that the finished product will involve motion, while comics involve static images. I have encountered a few scripts wherein the writer hasn't quite grasped the concept of stasis, thus rendering particular panels "undrawable."

To write comics stories, particularly full scripts (as opposed to plot breakdowns), writers need to visualize stories as a series of photographs, with each photograph capturing a moment of the story. As a rule of thumb, every character in a comics panel should be executing one specific pose, if not one specific action. To specify that "Character catches the granade and throws it back at the bad guys" in one panel is fundamentally undrawable, though the artist can draw the character twice in one large panel. This is one convention in comics storytelling that can break the one sction rule.

With that said, writers need to know and take advantage of the unique storytelling properties of comics, as well as avoid those properties unique to film.

Now the question is: plot breakdown or full script? I'm partial to the full script, because one of the most important parts of the process is editing, through the help of a good editor. With a full script, an able editor can spot typos, lapses in grammar and spelling, even storytelling hitches, that writers may not be able to see offhand. So as early as the script stage, the story can be meticulously fleshed out and refined.

How To Write Comics

When you go to a bookstore, you'll find tons of books about writing novels and screenplays, and their approaches vary from the casual to the academic. There are books that focus solely on plot, on character development, even on dialogue. There are even books that claim to help you write a full-length novel in thirty days.

But there are hardly any books out there about writing a comics story.

I think we can all agree that iffy writing and storycrafting cannot save gorgeous art. This is what I felt when I read Avengers Forever and Batman: Hongkong. But then that's just me. On the other hand, I really admire the writing in House of M, as well as in Supreme Power, even in Runaways, if you're curious about what kind of writing I go for.

Conversely, brilliant writing can almost always save crappy art.

If you want to up your arsenal when it comes to writing comics stories, the closest reference you can get is to pick up a writing book, particularly for screenplays. Because compared to fiction novels, movies are closer to comics as they use words and images to tell a story. Movie making requires storyboarding, which is similar to the panel-to-panel storytelling of comics.

Beginning graphic novelists would benefit from knowing the basics of plot, structure, character development, theme, and other storytelling elements, and how they all interconnect to make your story one solid living thing. You may not be writing a screenplay, but you'll discover much that you can translate to a comics story.

On my end, I found myself investing in fiction writing books first, not books on screenplays. The first book I bought about writing was The Novelist's Bootcamp by Todd Stone, which takes you through a bootcamp-like process when conceptualizing in putting together a story. It's not the best book on the subject, but it's a great kick in the pants. One of the better books I got was Plot and Structure by James Scott Bell. This book gives the lowdown on developing a plot and the laying out the three-act structure, with lots of writing exercises to experiment with. I'm still waiting on a couple of screenwriting books for delivery.

As they say, sometimes you have to look beyond your field to get better at it.

Use Patience Towards Your First Comics Anthology

After holding a seminar on making comics a few years ago, a guy approached me and told me of his comic book idea. He wanted to make an epic series that involved politics, terrorism, and high-octane action. I remember him saying that his series would be very relevant.

Based on his appearance, he looked like someone who was in the middle of a college degree. I asked him if he had started his story, and he answered, "No."

This seems to be the problem with some aspiring comics creators. All ideas, no action. Their minds are brimming with concepts, but no script, not even an outline to show for it.

There isn't anything wrong with wanting to create a major epic, that monumental masterpiece that would carve itself a niche in the annals of comics history. But as Heather Sellers explains in her insightful book Chapter After Chapter, aspiring writers cease to start the engines because they get overwhelmed by the thought of what their creation should be. And we're all familiar with the line, "This comic book of mine is gonna be kick-ass!" They're already thinking ahead of themselves, so that by the time they sit down to write they've already prevented the writing juices from flowing. Their subconscious is saying, "Your idea is kick-ass, but can you actually write and draw kick-ass comics?"

If you haven't made a comic book in your life, start small. Give yourself a month to do an eight- to twelve-page one-shot story. The kind that begins and ends. After that comics piece is done, do another one the following month. Try different approaches with each work. Find the style you're comfortable with. Fix whatever you feel needs fixing. Get feedback.

By the end of six months, you would have made six stories. After a year, twelve stories. Not bad if you think about it. By this time, you would have already set your groove. But never be complacent because there's always room for improvement. You can post your stories on the web and ask strangers to go over your work. Since your stories are short, readers will be more comfortable reading through them.

After that first year, up the ante. Research more, try more techniques, and nail those tricks you're comfortable with. Do six one-shot stories on the second year, one every two months, with each story having 16 to 24 pages. On the third year, do four stories of 24 to 36 pages. This whole period will help you test and develop your endurance, as well as solidify your writing and drawing style.

Just imagine: after three years you would have 22 comics stories of varying lengths. Based on the feedback you get, you can choose ten of the best, fix whatever you feel needs some improvement, and publish your first comics anthology.

On your fourth year, gun for your first four-issue limited series. Or better yet, your first 100-page graphic novel.