The Great Middle Ground

What can the graphic novelist do to increase the value of their stories, not just in the eyes of the comics reader, but also to the average civilian?

The general public has been weaned, even spoiled, by motion pictures. I use motion pictures here because comics have become film's strange bedfellow. And it appears that a number of creators have deemed it necessary to create comics that approximate film.

But comics can never be film. Comics do not have the benefit of physical motion. And the more that comics are attached to film, the lesser its value becomes.

So what can the graphic novelist do to place the medium in its rightful independent place as an incomparable artform, and yet not be too artsy that it alienates the common Joe?

The principle I've always held is this: "Give them what they want, then give them what you want." To be profitable, the graphic novel should think "profitability." Structure a story using the standard genre of film--romantic comedy, sci-fi thriller, buddy cop, etc.--to make the story familiar and seemingly comfortable to read, but offer the left field surprise.

1) While the graphic novel can be made to look like a film, it should have important elements (visual and verbal) that are difficult to translate to film. In effect, offering an audience the experience that only comics can provide.

2) While the graphic novel can have stories that can be imagined as a profitable film, it should have story elements that would make film producers think twice. In short, important story elements that can be depicted freely in an unregulated medium, but would be subject to extreme scrutiny by the film industry.

3) The success of a lot of films is hinged on celebrity--bankable actors with reliable performances--which the graphic novel does not have the benefit of. It is thus required of the graphic novelist to position him or herself as the celebrity, by producing compelling well-written and drawn stories. The graphic novelist has to think and work like a professional novelist, and not just "some person who makes comics."

4) One aspect of film that the graphic novel can freely exploit is the presentation of thought. It is almost impossible to present conscious thought in commercial film, but thought is a mainstay in the arsenal of comics creation. Also note that the presentation of thoughts is widely used in prose novels. The graphic novelist can use thought to enrich a narrative.

5) The graphic novelist should put equal weight the planning of words and pictures. It is not enough to have a great script. The graphic novelist would have to play the role of production designer--taking care to research for the depiction of locations, locales, costumes, props, etc. And this visual research ought to extend to the "performances" of the characters, with each character serving as an "actor." The graphic novelist should provide a wealth of visual and verbal nuance. Doing so would add significantly to the impression of worth in the eyes of the public.

At the end of the day, it's all about worth. If a graphic novel intends to sell, it's supposed to be seen a worthy by the people who flip through it in a bookstore.

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.

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.

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.

Another Chance For "Superheroes"

The television series "Heroes" succeeded not because it featured superpowered people. It made a major dent because it featured ordinary people who happened to have superhuman powers. It's a grand what-if involving disparate personalities, backgrounds and ethnicities, mostly tackling the question "what would these people do."

As we've seen in a previous post, the superhero comics market is small, but there's no reason why you can't create a graphic novel involving superpowered people, which is something like what manga has achieved, though in a different fashion. Still, the focus on human drama and pathos is what drives these stories forward, with some slam-bang action thrown in for some healthy dose of kinetic energy.

Because the characters have "costumes" you can normally buy in a department store and don't run around toting a codename, potential readers shift their focus to the heart of the story. This isn't a story involving capes and a big logo on a chestplate. This is about Joe who's wrestling with an extreme case of insecurity--his mind-reading powers pick up the thoughts of his parents, schoolmates, and the girl he wants to be with.

How about mousy medical student Sandra who discovers she's as strong as five powerlifters? Will she trade her quiet non-descript life for possible fame and fortune, or fulfill the dreams of her conservative and religious parents in Nebraska?

And that's where you hook a potential reader--a character who goes through what many people go through, only exaggerated or complicated by the inclusion of some kind of power. When Joe, who's become rather socially inept because of his insecurity, discovers that some of his classmates plan a dastardly deed against the school principal, what is he going to do? Or, to be more like recent headlines, picks up the thoughts of a reclusive classmate and uncovers homicidal thoughts involving a couple of guns and a dormitory?

Sandra, on the other hand, accidentally breaks the bones and kills her boyfriend. Her hometown is stunned by the incident, but no one believes Sandra to be capable of doing such harm. Will Sandra turn herself in? If she does, how can she explain how the accident occurred without her revealing her unusual strength?

Human drama. Human conflict. Throw a superpower in to add interest, but never make it a highlight. In stories like these, having superpowers can affect a character's decisions, but using them is rarely one of the options unless pressed against a wall.

Exercise: Write a short premise of a graphic novel involving a person with a superhuman ability. Make it two to three short paragraphs similar to a back-cover book description. However, you cannot use the word "superpower" or "superhuman" or any word that could suggest some kind of superheroism. This premise can also be used for your press releases.

The Moral Question (and Answerr)

What is the moral question of your graphic novel story? What are you, as the writer, trying to answer?

Life is filled with questions. We wonder why the American Dream seems to be tainted. We wonder why our parents sometimes don't treat us like adults. We wonder why a number of celebrities do foolish things. And we wonder, with much perturbation, why a nineteen year-old would decide to gun down innocent civilians in an Omaha mall.

We ask questions to understand, and thereafter compare it with our views. Morality is about knowing the difference between what's good and what's evil. However, on a cultural, social, theological, and political level, my view of good can be another person's view of evil.

And herein lies the power of a well-written story. It has the potential, when written well, to present a compelling point of view. That nothing is black and white, and sometimes even the most evil acts are motivated by a person's desire to do the opposite.

Stories traditionally existed to educate. That's what the fables and the bard's tales were there for. While there are those who have written stories primarily to entertain, the best stories are the ones that endured. And these stories provided lessons to learn, points to ponder upon and issues to talk about, whether they be laugh-out-loud comedies or the most searing dramas.

It's a "what would you do" proposition, one strong enough to challenge a reader's sense of morals and values. Stories do this by placing a pawn, the lead character, to go through the hassle. By the story's climax, the writer makes a decision that the character acts out, and that decision has to be a convincing one. Not exactly the right one, but a convincing one. It's telling a reader, this is what this character would do. Do you, reader, feel it's justified? Would you do the same thing?

The moral question doesn't have to be life-threatening. Even the case of falling in love with your best friend's wife is a strong moral issue, because many people struggle with it everyday. A kid's moral issue could be about running away from home and abandoning school. Moral questions don't have to be dramatic, either--sitcoms have moral questions thrown in, too.

Now what if you want to do a straightforward action-adventure graphic novel and not bother with moral issues? That's fine. No bones about that. It's really about what your objective as a storyteller is. But do remember that stories involve human beings (or creatures with human attributes), and by definition alone they have to act human. That means they have their own worries, anxieties, and fears. If they don't, then you might be accused of casting cardboard instead of flesh and blood.

Character Development: Making Readers Care

Remember the time when New Superhero was given a personality flaw and some fanboys would suddenly rave, "Wow, great character development!"

Those in the know will tell you that character development is a process, a series of changes that a character goes through for better or worse, brought about by factors in the character's environment and interpreted by his values, experiences and morals.

Characters in a story have a "beginning status" at the start, and an "ending status" by the story's conclusion. One of the writer's responsibilities is to introduce events and situations that seek to alter or reinforce a character's beginning status. When the story ends, the resulting status becomes a thematic point of the whole process.

So if you decide to give a character claustrophobia, or a drinking problem, or an apathetic relationship with his supporting character wife, don't do so just to make him interesting. Make these qualities affect a major decision. Make them threaten his achieving ultimate success. Make them institute some change in the character's status.

When you begin to humanize a character, you initialize the link between the reader and your story. And maximizing character development can not only give your story a deeper level of complexity, but also a reason for your reader to care. When you get your readers to care, you give them a reason to stick around.

Character development is tricky, because you have to know your characters inside and out. How they think. How they view their situation. How they view the world around them. What makes them tick. What drives them forward. What holds them back. A well-rounded character acts like a normal human being who may not always be predictable, but will always have a reason for their actions.

For instance, a superhero who has a chronic case of claustrophobia would not likely rush into a cave to face a bad guy. If he does so, he may not be able to function well, thus threatening his team's victory. A superhero who has a major drinking problem might secretly be attending Alcoholics Anonymous, thus threatening his crimefighting career. A character with an apathetic relationship with his wife might be fooling around on the side with a woman who's a pawn of the main villain. In short, give your characters a reason to suffer, genuinely suffer. It's harsh I know, but why should a reader care if the good guy has it all easy?

To put matters another way, say you're a basketball fan and you idolize one particular player. You're excited everytime he's called into the court, and howl with delight when he makes a kick-ass dunk. To you, he's the god of basketball.

Then your friend tells you one day that your idol is going through a difficult divorce. The question is: would you actually Google it? Would you search for news about it? It's a divorce, not a basketball game, so why would some basketball fans want to know the nitty gritty of the settlement proceedings? Why would they talk about it?

One reason could be that fans want to know how the divorce might affect the player's game. They've begun to care about the player's performance. They want to see their hero emerge unscathed.

Here's an exercise. Write a personal letter, one that you don't intend to send to anyone, but write it as if you're the main character of your story. Pretend that the character is halfway through your story, and write down what he thinks and feels about the situation so far, the other characters, his objective, and the threats at hand. More importantly, write down why he thinks and feels the way he does.

When you're done with the letter, set it aside for a week, then take it out and read it. Does the letter convince you? Does it sound sincere? If this letter were written by someone else, would you care to know what happens next? Cross check the letter with your script and see if what the letter contains is consistent with how you presented the character in your story. You may be able to get fresh insights by doing so.

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.

Built To L:ast: Characters

The real challenge of the graphic novelist is to create something that's "built to last." What does that mean?

Because putting together a graphic novel takes a lot of work, you wouldn't want your masterpiece to sit on the shelves for six months to a year then disappear into oblivion. To make your efforts worth it, your graphic novel has to possess the qualities that merit its longevity. Graphic novels like Persepolis, Jimmy Corrigan, Stuck Rubber Baby, and Ghost World have survived long after their original publication date, and are currently part of some kind of academic curriculum.

When you look through the lot of web and independent comics, most of them are either superhero or manga. But manga and superhero comics are already being dominated by large publishing companies. The only chance these comics have to possess some kind of longevity is to go under the corporate wing.

This is not to say, of course, that you shouldn't do manga or superheroes. What it does say is that you have to prepare yourself for a major uphill climb, if not major disappointment. Still, if you just want to get a comic book out with no expectations of fame and fortune, then do so. It's all part of the process.

If you want something that's potentially built to last, you need to focus on two elements: your lead character and that character's journey. While theme, dialogue, art style, production quality, and all the other good stuff do demand attention, who your lead character is and how the journey turns out are what directly connects to the reader.

Psychologically, a reader needs representation in the story. That's how readers "get into" the story. That's why romance novels have women as protagonists and spy thrillers have men as protagonists. Lead characters are the portals through which readers allow themselves to be immersed in the tale.

Or, a reader needs their fantasy feathers stroked. An action thriller featuring Lara Croft would sit very well with men because of the sex element. Likewise, an action thriller featuring a ridiculously handsome, hunky AND senstive man who's in touch with his feminine side may pull at women's heartstrings.

The journey of the character is likewise important because readers want to know how the character's going to turn out. When you're telling a story to a friend about your mother climbing Mount Everest, your friend would most likely ask, "So is she okay?" The key word here is transformation, the result. And if the result isn't powerful enough to justify the journey, then you may end up with a dud.

Why am I telling you this?

When you're starting out, you need a "claim to fame," or at least something that will help get you attention. A cool and flashy art style can help, but if your story sucks you may just end up being a creator known for art and nothing else. Notice that a lot of the more respected graphic novels do not use the superhero comics style or the manga style in their artwork (unless you're Tezuka).

So focus on what really counts at the end of the day. Story. Character. The transformative journey. Get that nailed, and you'll have a better chance.

Why Magazines?

Now some of you may have raised eyebrows over my last blog post. Making graphic novels for women may not sit well with comics creators who, by observation, are mostly male. But I hope you've taken the time to think about the idea.

Based on Amazon's subscription bestseller list, women's magazines top the chart. These are actual dollar expenditures from people who are willing to shell out money.

Plus, women read more than men. In a study conducted this year by the Associated Press, "the typical woman reads nine books in a year, compared with only five for men. Women read more than men in all categories except for history and biography." (Read the full story about reading habits through this link.)

So there's your target market right there.

And what's the bonus in finding a great story in the pages in women's magazines? Well, when you've finished your graphic novel and your female friends like it, you already have potential venues for press releases--the same magazines from where you got your ideas. The same magazines with the high sales rates. The same magazines that women spend money to buy.

And because women read more, they'll most probably find your press release in their favorite mag.

Story Hooks That Can Sell

Story ideas are everywhere. You can 1) go over the news; 2) recall a special event in your life; 3) recall a special event in a friend's life; 4) go through history books, etc. Then you ask a lot of "what if" questions. Chances are, you'll find a story hook that'll interest you enough to expand into a full plot.

However, not all story ideas will sell. Even the best-laid plans for Hollywood movies don't translate to record-breaking, not even modest, returns. So why invest all that time and energy on a story that's not going to fly?

Of course, many aspiring creators have their dream projects. And there may be a chance that these projects can get them somewhere. But this post assumes that you're stuck and would really need a nice kick in the brain for a story idea that can get people interested.

According to Amazon, the following magazines top their subscription sales list, in no particular order:

A) O, The Oprah Magazine, Good Housekeeping, Marie Claire, Redbook, Real Simple, FamilyFun, Glamour

B) Sports Illustrated, Men's Health, Esquire

C) Seventeen, CosmoGIRL!

D) Sports Illustrated Kids

E) SmartMoney, Bon Appetit, Wired, Popular Mechanics, Popular Science, Vanity Fair

Notice anything? Seven of the nineteen topsellers are magazines specifically for mature women (three of which are in the top five), and their main thrust is empowering women. Only three magazines are specific to men. Two are for the teen girl set, one is for kids, and the rest have subjects of general interest. And, surprisingly, the topselling kids' magazine is sports-themed--not cartoons, not toys, not video games.

So why am I telling you this?

It appears that more women read more magazines about empowering women. And the companies that produce these magazines know by experience what topics women are interested in. So if you're looking for a story hook that can possibly sell, check out the topselling women's magazines for ideas. There's a lot of material out there, and there is a higher chance that you'll have a market who'll be willing to check your story out.

Let's face it. There aren't a lot of graphic novels out there for women. Why not start the trend?