11Sep/120

Draw it Yourself

September 11th, 2012

Here’s the scenario: you are a writer who cannot draw (WWCD), but you want to make comics. We’ve discussed the standard options available – finding an artist and making photocomics. The one option that most WWCD completely ignore is the DIY approach.

The fact of the matter is that everyone can draw. Most people aren’t very good at it, but that didn’t stop the makers of Pictionary from releasing their game. The problem is that most people can’t draw very well. WWCD have self-identified as part of this category and then started to flail around to find someone to help bridge the gap.

One of the least understood aspects of creativity is how much practice is involved. Experts estimate that it takes ten thousand hours of constant practice to get really good at something, which equates to more or less ten years of effort. Writing, painting, sculpture, photography, archery, golf – the same concept applies to all of them. Most artists are not great right out of the box. It took them years of practice to get that good. Of course, most of the really good ones started when they were teenagers (or younger) so that by the time they got to their mid-20s, they already had their ten years of practice under their belts.

For a WWCD, this is both good and bad news. The good news is that it is possible to get good at drawing. The bad news is that it will probably take ten years of constant practice to get there. This is a daunting prospect at the age of 25, even worse at the age of 35.

Good writers understand the value of vocabulary and, in comics, a large part of the vocabulary comes from the art. The better the art, the greater the vocabulary. Writers are also very aware of how much bad writing there is in the world and are conscious of not wanting to present bad art (which is also easier to spot than bad writing).

Unfortunately for WWCD, they are often considered second-hand citizens in the comics-making world. The term “cartoonist” (10) has less characters than “comic creators” (15), so you’ll see the former a lot more than the latter on Twitter. The problem is that roughly half of the comic book creators out there are not cartoonists. The implication is, though, that if you aren’t a cartoonist, you’re not a “real” creator of comics (Alan Moore, Grant Morrison and Neil Gaiman notwithstanding).

The solution to this dilemma is to become a cartoonist. Ivan Brunetti wrote an excellent book called Cartooning: Philosophy and Practice that is essentially a distillation of the syllabus of his cartooning class at Columbia College Chicago, where he teaches. It is highly recommended, especially for WWCD. It will not teach you how to be a master cartoonist, but it will give you the basics – most essentially, the confidence to get past the whole “I can’t draw” thing.

There is an argument to be made that even a rudimentary level of cartooning skill – at the level imparted by Brunetti’s instruction manual – improves and informs the quality of comic book scripts and layout. If you understand what it is you are asking someone else to do, you have a better chance of getting the most out of those skills.

In his introduction, Brunetti specifically frowns at photocomics, which makes sense – his book is specifically designed to teach cartooning, not the generic methodology of making comics. Having said that, making photocomics can very easily be a DIY project. A good digital camera is not terribly expensive these days and there are a ton of interesting photo apps available for smartphones.

Probably the most important thing that a WWCD needs to understand is that finding an excellent artist is a fine goal, but there is nothing wrong with compromising on an artist that doesn’t meet the high standards you have probably set. In some cases, that sub-standard artist could even be you. Adding new skills to your toolbox is never a bad thing, especially in comics.

7Sep/121

Making Comics By Any Means Necessary

September 7th, 2012

In my last post, I talked about strategies for writers who can’t draw (WWCD) and provided some common sense practical advice and best practices for how to work with and find sequential artists. If you are one of those WWCD that wants to follow the traditional route, that post has everything you need. If you are a WWCD that wants to try something that not everyone else is doing, this post might be of some use to you.

Before we begin, it is important to note that everything in that post applies to every kind of artist that you’re ever likely to run across. Just because I am pointing out different ways to approach the problem of how to make comics doesn’t automatically mean that you get to revert to the default state of ignorance. Think of the previous post as foundational – this post builds on that information without invalidating a word of it. I don’t mention most of that stuff here because I don’t feel like repeating myself any more than I absolutely have to.

When you are trying to think outside the box, the first step is to identify the problem. In this case, the problem is “making comics.” The second step is to identify the box; here, that box is “using a cartoonist to do so.” Yes, this means that you will have to figure out other ways to make comics. But nobody ever got a reputation for being innovative by doing the same thing that everyone else was doing. This is a problem and you are a creative person – time to start applying your creative problem solving skills.

The most obvious means of making comics without a cartoonist is photocomics – also known as fumetti. There are pluses and minuses to this approach (as with all approaches, cartoonists included) but the most obvious detriment is the possibility that some critic or loudmouth will try and tell you that photocomics aren’t “real” comics. The only responsible answer to this criticism is to point out that a comic has panels arranged sequentially on the page and, by that definition, photocomics qualifies. Hell, it’s got the name comics right there in the name! Photocomics also holds DIY possibilities, but I’m going to hold that discussion for the next post.

There are other kinds of artists out there as well – tapestry makers, printmakers, collage artists, painters, sculptors, 3D Poser creators and so forth. Each and every one of these artistic approaches holds the potential for sequential art; when you find an artist that you are interested in working with, contact the artist in question and ask “have you ever thought about making comics?” You will get a wide range of responses, but mostly rejections. The same caveats apply to these kinds of artists as previously mentioned – with the added admonition that these artists are (probably) not naturally inclined towards making sequential art so you’ll have to do a lot of conceptual heavy lifting for them. A good script is, as always, your best friend.

I’ve worked with a variety of different kinds of non-cartoonists over the years since I started making comics. By far, though, the easiest artists I’ve ever worked with are photographers. Nearly every photographer I’ve worked with has been very open and excited about the idea of making comics. A lot of photographers work primarily in the studio and don’t get a lot of opportunities to do anything off the wall and different. Sequential narrative fits that bill very nicely. It’s a chance to take pictures, but have someone (the writer) do the critical thinking about “what to shoot next.”

In fact, it really helps a lot to think of making photocomics generally like making a fairly cheap silent movie, without all the bother about ensuring that the actors said their lines properly. One of the major elements of a comic script is “choice of moment” – the primary strength of a good photographer. In this metaphor, the comic book writer also acts as director, guiding the actors through their motions and making sure that the photographer knows what shots are most important.

The worst thing about making comics with photographers is the logistical details. Unless you are willing to hire a production manager, this is your project and you will need to sort out almost everything. Depending on the level of effort that you are willing to go to, there are all kinds of options with photographers – actors, props, scenery, wardrobe, makeup and post-production. These can be overwhelming for beginners and it’s best to think of these as optional extras – even actors (you can make a photocomic with just sculptures if you’re really creative).

The best thing about making comics with photographers is how fast it takes to get the primary artwork completed. A photographer needs no more than a few minutes to set up any given shot, plus it’s no extra work to take multiple shots of the same subject, giving the writer choices for what photo to use. Given this lack of constraint, a best practice is to have the photographer take a lot of pick up shots.

The only way to learn how to make comics well is to make a lot of comics. If you can find a photographer that has an interest in working with you, it can be very easy to make a lot of comics in a relatively short period of time. Correction: it can be very easy to take a lot of photos in a relatively short period of time, once everything is set up and lit correctly. Actually laying out the comics can be very time-consuming and usually requires some kind of layout application (Comic Life is a good basic application for beginners).

For a WWCD, making photocomics is a very good alternative to sitting around, trying to figure out how to get your comics made. With the former option, you have a product that you can sell and get critiques on. With the latter option, you have nothing. The choice is yours.

6Sep/120

So You’re a Writer Who Can’t Draw…

September 6th, 2012

Probably the most pervasive cliché in the creation of comics is the writer who cannot draw (WWCD) flailing about, looking for an artist. Some writers have been known to snark that most writers think they can’t draw and most artists think they can write – this is both inaccurate and impolite. Everyone can write and everyone can draw. However, it is easier to spot that you can’t draw than it is to spot that you can’t write. It would be more truthful to say that most writers cannot draw well and most artists cannot write well.

Unbending the cliché in this manner does not actually help WWCD, however. Especially since they are stuck behind a massive economic reality – the demand for artists far exceeds their supply and the exact opposite is true of writers. If you are a writer that cannot draw, the faster that you can get past this problem, the better off you will be.

There are three strategies for doing this:
1. Find a comic book artist
2. Identify a different artistic approach to making comics
3. Learn to draw

I’m only going to address the first strategy in this essay, leaving the other two for future essays. The vast majority of WWCD are going to follow this strategy to the exclusion of all else, if only because it’s the most obvious. Never mind that 90% of WWCD do exactly the same thing, which only means that it is the most well-travelled path into comics, not necessarily the easiest.

If you are bound and determined to get an artist to work on your script, you are setting yourself up for a massive challenge. If you have no published or completed comics to your credit, the challenge is even greater. The only thing that you have going for you is your credibility and it is extremely easy to blow that without even trying. Here are some common sensical best practices and practical advice:

  • Expect rejection (and lots of it). If an artist is actually making comics, they aren’t looking for a writer. Some will be polite and straightforward in their response. Some will be terribly unprofessional in their response. Some will never respond. It happens. In every case, the best thing you can do is put on your big boy pants and keep moving forward. In the event that you actually get an artist interested in your work, you will discover that more than half of them will flake out for one reason or another – this usually takes the form of never contacting you again and mysteriously vanishing off the face of the earth. Again, it happens. These responses speak more to the personalities and insecurities of the artist than it does of you – don’t take it personally.
  • Start small. Don’t come at the prospective artist with a pitch for a multi-volume graphic novel series that will take years to complete. That demonstrates a complete disconnect from reality on your part. A short, four page story is a good size to start with. It gives you a chance to see if you will work well with each other before either of you get ambitious.
  • It takes longer to draw a page than it does the write the script for it. This is one of the main things that WWCD do not understand. A good rule of thumb is that a full page (pencils, inks, colors and letters) can take between 12 and 16 hours to complete. If your artist has a day job, this work is being done in the spare time between meals, sleep, day job and family.
  • Have an opportunity in hand (and I don’t mean “I’m going to pitch this series…”). There are so many anthologies for up-and-coming comic creators that it almost beggars belief. Many of these have open submissions and are looking for new blood. Contacting an artist and saying “I have an idea for this anthology that you would be good for” isn’t always guaranteed to get you the reaction you’re looking for, but it shows that you’ve done some research.
  • Don’t expect to pitch a series to a publisher if you have no track record. If you were a musician, you would not expect to play Carnegie Hall on your first time out – why would you expect a publisher to pay you good money for a series if you haven’t actually demonstrated your ability to produce something on your own? Get some experience first.
  • Don’t expect to pitch a successful artist in an attempt to create a successful career of your own. This is both unrealistic and just plain bad form. It’s been known to happen, but usually by accident. Most artists with any level of professional success can spot this kind of thing a mile away and the polite ones won’t even bother to respond.
  • Finding artists is actually ridiculously easy (if you know where to look). For example: go to DeviantArt. In the forums, there is an entire sub-board full of artists who are looking for paid work. Another example: here in the DC area, there is a semi-regular event called Artomatic – an entire building full of artists showing off their work. I like to think of this as a good place to shop for artists. A good rule of thumb is “If an artist is showing work in a gallery or other related venue, they are probably looking for exposure and work.”
  • Expect to pay your artist. Remember that whole supply and demand thing I wrote about above? Artists are in demand. The smart and/or good ones know this and will expect to be compensated for their work. Yes, this will be a work for hire situation. The majority of them don’t care. It is very likely that your little four page story will not actually break even, much less create a massive multimedia empire, no matter how much you wish it would.
  • Look for good page rates. Artists who are just starting out don’t have a lot of experience and probably don’t know how much their work is worth. I’m not saying that you should offer to pay someone less than what they are asking for – but it is smart to shop around and find a page rate you can afford. Just remember that you will be getting what you pay for. Inexperienced artists may not have a good grasp on how to create sequential art or have a distinctive style of their own. A strong script may or may not help, but it cannot hurt.
  • Build relationships with your artists. If you have worked successfully with an artist in the past, keep in touch with them (Twitter is excellent way to do this). If you know that an artist that you’ve worked with is going to be at a show or convention that you are planning to attend, make an effort to meet up with them in person. Eye contact goes a long way towards establishing and maintaining long-term relationships. In the business world, this is called networking.
  • Get over your social anxiety. Most writers (and artists) think that they are introverts. Many are. Sitting in your room waiting for someone to find you and give you what you want is not a good recipe for success. Learning how to have a conversation with someone in person in a crowded room will drastically increase your odds of success. Because most writers seem to have this issue, getting over it can potentially give you an edge. And every little bit counts.
  • Do not ever tell an artist that they are a bad writer. Not only is this rude, but it is not a good strategy for convincing them that they should work with or for you. Nobody likes to be insulted (and yes, this will be interpreted as an insult, especially if you’ve never met them before) and people tend to gossip about that kind of interaction, which does not make you look good to people you’ve never met.
  • Do not ever send a script with an introductory inquiry. This is actually considered pretty rude. Make sure the artist specifically asks before sending the script. It’s not an intellectual property thing – more of a politeness thing. Many people automatically trash any email from someone they don’t know that contains an attachment because it could be construed as spam. Don’t be mistaken for spam.
  • As I mentioned at the top of the post, most of these are common sense. If you sit down and think through the implications of what you are going to do before you do it, you will start to avoid certain behaviors that will impede your success. A sign of a good writer is the ability to put himself in the shoes of other people. Think of this as a writing exercise – if you were an artist, how would you like to be addressed and/or approached?

    One of the things that I have cultivated over the years is a group of advisors that I trust to tell me when I have a bad idea. After all, it’s easier to have someone tell you why it’s a bad idea to do something then it is to do it and find out why it was a bad idea. If you honestly believe that you have no one in your life that is qualified to do this for you, find new friends. If that doesn’t work for you, feel free to drop me a line and ask before you execute. I’ll be more than happy to tell you if you have a bad idea and why. Just don’t get angry at me if you don’t get the answer you’re looking for.

2Aug/120

Mitigations Trump Causes

August 2nd, 2012

Last month, I wrote a long post that stretched across a number of different topics, centered mostly on how the comics market works and how the operation of that market affects the way that independent creators can and should market themselves. I asked my friend Michael May to take a look at it and provide feedback, which he did.

My takeaway from his response: he agreed with the premise that creators can and should market themselves better, but he disagreed with my premise that the public is, in principle, anathemic to the superhero genre. Instead, he posits that it is the overly-complicated and opaque storylines that keep general audiences away. On a related note, Heidi MacDonald recently made the argument that Marvel and DC are unlikely to ever really diversify their product lines in an attempt to appeal to any demographic beyond the core 18-35 male audience.

I’m not sure that it’s worth the effort to get into a nitpicky argument with Mr. May about whether it’s the genre or the perception of how inaccessible the genre has become that keeps the mainstream audience out of comic book stores. (For the record, my co-writer on this site, Adam Knave, posited that it was the historical viewpoint that comics are for children that’s keeping audiences away.) I don’t know that there is one correct answer. It may be all of the above or none of the above.

Any way you slice the argument, the same conclusion can be drawn: if comic creators want to appeal to a more mainstream audience, their marketing plans must recognize that there is an inherent bias against the medium among that audience. The specific root of the bias is less important than recognizing that the bias exists and correcting for it. Because there is no one singular cause, the potential number of mitigations could also be legion.

For example, a very interesting implication of MacDonald’s post is the fact the bread and butter of most local comic shops is selling the weekly periodical output from Marvel and DC. If her conclusion is correct, the audiences that come into those shops will be skewed towards the 18-35 male demographic by default. If you are a creator making a book that is not aimed at that audience, this should be reason enough to start thinking very critically about your marketing and distribution options.

Perhaps because I live with a marketing manager, my standard go-to response for anything that requires education of the potential audience is marketing. And, to be honest, marketing is one of those areas where most creative types traditionally underperform. Having said that, one of my pet peeves is the kind of post that tells you that you should be doing something better, but does not actually provide any tools, thoughts or ideas about what you could be doing differently. In the spirit of putting up so that I don’t have to shut up, here are some strategic thoughts.

Every comics culture uses serialized episodic content as a way to gain new readers, in what I think of as “the discovery phase” of production – daily strips in newspapers, chunks of stories in anthologies or monthly comic books that make up a larger story. Webcomics are a natural extension of this approach. As mentioned above, not everyone visits (or thinks to visit) local comic shops. A webcomic requires far less actual effort on the part of the potential reader – click a link and navigate away if the comic presented is not to their taste.

The traditional rebuttal to webcomics is that it’s difficult to make money from something you give away for free, which is absolutely true. It’s also important to note that something like Asterix & Obelisk gained their initial following in the pages of Pilote – the weekly comics anthology where their adventures were intially presented, one half page at a time – but the money came from the reprinted collections, which anyone and everyone could pick up as a single book and get an entire story in one volume. I think of this as “the back catalog phase.”

A very good marketing strategy would be to take the approach that the webcomic is the easiest way to get people reading your material and the collected edition is the easiest way to monetize the attention from the audience you have cultivated. And if you want to provide a value-add in your print edition, present the webcomic is in black and white and only include color in print. (I still don’t understand why more webcomics don’t do this – it’s the only portion of the artwork that can be removed without significantly altering the story.)

It sounds cliche, but know your audience. First, identify the ideal reader and start looking for communities full of those people. Second, start looking for places where that kind of person tends to congregate. If you are making a comic that is not aimed at 18-35 year old males, perhaps it would make more sense to buy table space at conventions aimed at your audience instead of at superhero conventions. That’s a marketing strategy in a nutshell. If it’s not obvious what the benefit is from doing something, maybe you shouldn’t do it.

If you have any intention of making money from the work you have spent time and energy creating, marketing is not just a three syllable word that starts with ‘m’ – it’s a necessity. Doing it right will require just as much time and energy as you spent creating the work that you are trying to sell. The sooner you figure that out and act, the sooner you will be ahead of your competition.

4Jun/120

The Scarlet Genre

June 4th, 2012

I’m a process geek. I love digging through in-depth analyses of how things fit together to get a better idea of what works, what doesn’t and why. I like to look for opportunities to apply best practices from one discipline to seemingly unrelated areas of endeavor. I figure that if everyone is focused on the same problem from the same general point of view and there is no obviously implemented solution, the answer may come from a different point of view. With this in mind, I paid attention to the only important part of business I really care about – where money changes hands in superhero publishing.

At a very high level, there are four moneyed relationships in the superhero publishing industry: creator/publisher, publisher/vendor, publisher/retailer and retailer/reader. With the notable exception of vendors like printers and distributors, qualitative value judgments are used to drive business decisions – literally asking themselves, “Will my customer like this?” The important take away here is that publishers are not selling to readers, they’re selling to retailers. By the same logic, creators are selling to publishers.

This is not really news – most publishing industries are built around this basic business supply chain. The whole point is to create a consistently standardized work product that can be sold on an episodic basis to an insular, fanatical audience with specific tastes. This allows the various businesses involved in the supply chain to make long-term plans based on prior performance and consumption levels.

It follows that if I want to make money in comics, I should align myself with one of those relationships and get paid. My problem is that I do not want to own and operate my own comics shop. I do not want to run my own publishing company. I do not want to print or distribute comics. I want to create comics and get paid to do so. Economically, this is a bad choice on my part, but it’s the skillset I have so I’m pretty much stuck.

If I want to make money as a creator in the superhero industry, my only financially viable option is to conform and learn to produce what the reputation of the largest publishers have taught their direct customers to expect. There is no long-term survival strategy in this conformation – under a work-for-hire contract, I would not own my work product nor would I have any employee benefits like healthcare, paid vacations or a retirement plan.

If this were the entirety of the comics market, I would be deeply discouraged. Fortunately, it’s only the superhero market. There are other, less focused, comics markets in the English-speaking world, but they generally don’t have the clout or serious financial leverage that comes with media conglomerate participation. Black swan outliers have risen up through these channels and found mass audiences, but not with any kind of regularity or predictability. And the mass market success of these works has not significantly dented public perceptions of whether comics are a legitimate and/or worthwhile entertainment source. It’s almost as if the audience has enjoyed the work despite the medium, not because of it.

One of the things I realized as I was digging into the business practices of the superhero industry is exactly how much ambiguous terminology is floating around. For example, everyone talks about the comics industry, but it should more properly referred to as the superhero industry. Comics are the medium and superheroes are the predominant genre in that medium – a genre that makes enough money to support an entire supply chain.

Together, “despite the medium” and terminological ambiguity draw attention to the fact that there is a perception problem surrounding comics among mass audiences. This epicenter of this perception problem is the notion that comics are a genre, specifically the superhero genre. It is natural to refer to this as the superhero problem within the English-speaking comics marketplace. (The fact that many people read “the superhero problem” as “the problem with superheroes” speaks volumes about inherent defensive biases. It also reveals those who are focused more on the content than the business.)

Superheroes are a genre, alongside perennial greats like Heroes, Adventure, Detective Novels, Heroic Fantasy, Drama, Humor, Historical, Biography, Science Fiction, Reporting, Social Critique, Adaptation and Erotic. Uniquely, superheroes grew up with the industrialization of comics production in the English-speaking world and the two concepts have become tied at the hip in mainstream perception. When English-speakers say “comics,” the word “superhero” is understood. It is an unconscious, un-uttered modifier that shapes (and reveals) popular attitudes about both comics and superheroes – and the ongoing confusion of the two discrete concepts.

It is my contention that everyone who knows he is interested in reading superheroes and has the means to pursue that interest is probably actively doing so right now. To the average man on the street, that sentence reads exactly the same if the words “superheroes” and “comics” are swapped out. It is easy to scoff at the juxtaposition – not all comics contain superheroes! – and completely miss the point. That potential customer has consciously excluded comics as a viable entertainment source – largely due to a regrettable distaste for superheroes.

(It would be easy to quibble about the exact path that things have taken to get to this point. For example, some would point out that the potential audience is not interested in superheroes because they consider the genre to be for children, but the result is the same. Comics = “not for me.” The disparity of motivations offers potential avenues of exploration, but don’t actually move the conversation forward.)

It would be easy to say that the mass audience isn’t familiar with any comics content but superheroes, but that’s just not true. When the Pentagon needed an easy and effective way to educate soldiers about the proper care and maintenance of the newly issued M-16 rifle, they turned to comics. Comics have been used to teach people to read and they are also used to tell people what to do in the event of a crash landing. They can be found on editorial pages, in The New Yorker, in Playboy and on desk calendars. In short, comics are found and accepted everywhere. To the mass audience, however, those examples of the medium aren’t comics as they have come to understand them. Comics = superheroes and that’s as far as it goes.

This theory is easily disproved. It is entirely possible that the general public knows that comics has a wide variety of genre choices to pick from but has chosen to pretend ignorance en masse. Go into any Starbucks and ask anyone what one thing they associate with comic books. For bonus points, ask them to name 5 movies based on non-superhero comics properties since 1960.

As an aggregate international medium, artform and industrialized business, comics does not have a problem that needs to be fixed. Unlike superheroes (a trademark co-owned by Marvel and DC), comics has no owner. Unless you are a client of the CBLDF, there is no person or group or anthropomorphized entity that dictates what you can or should produce. Comics are a medium that has as much or as little potential as the creator wants it to have.

Making money creating comics in the English-speaking world, on the other hand, is a problem. The status quo of the Direct Market is stacked against creators who want to do something new and different – especially if that something is “anything but superheroes.” It is an innate restriction of the marketplace that has taken on the status of an institution, with all of the inherent resistance to change that designation implies.

From the perspective of those with the money, there is no reason to alter their business practices to suit the desires of no-name creators who don’t want to buy into every aspect of the system. Simply put, there is absolutely no incentive to change, financial or otherwise. In fact, change runs counter to the vested interests of superhero publishers and the media conglomerates that own them. After all, the industrialized distribution and retail supply chains that exist have been optimized to their benefit. And the habitual print-buying power of aging baby boomers will hold out for another decade – or at least as long as their hearts hold out.

For someone like me, on the outside looking in, the fact that the two largest publishers are exclusively focused on a single genre is not necessarily a bad thing. They have cultivated a limited audience and distorted the perception of the medium in the process, which I will have to correct for as I make and execute marketing plans. But the remainder of the audience – the mass audience, if you will – is largely untouched, unconsidered and unaddressed.

English language comics ceased to be a mass medium when they were no longer mass marketed to a mass audience. As the distribution methodology shifted from newsstand to specialty stores, the marketing shifted as well. Relieved of the requirement to entice anyone who walks by to pick up a book from a general-interest newsstand, the publishers found themselves in possession of a captive audience who showed up in a consistent location every week like clockwork. In this environment, retailers did not have to worry about significant business development efforts that cost money for marginal ROI because the publishers did the advertising for them.

In fact, it has gotten to the point where retailers market almost entirely by medium – putting up a sign that says “Comics” is like putting up a sign that says “Liquor” and not at all like putting up a sign that says “DVDs.” Those that are already interested will show up regardless, but the vast majority of the audience has reflexively removed the business from their list of places to go for a casual browse. The discontinuation of mass advertising combined with the rise of specialty stores are gateway drugs to a niche market.

Over time, the default comics market has become synonymous with the superhero market and the comics audience has become synonymous with the superhero audience. As a result, marketing a comic made for any other kind of audience has become problematic. For example, something as simple as word order will determine who reads a solicitation for a commercially viable venture. “A comic about gay porn” will attract (and repulse) a radically different demographic than “gay porn comics.”

For those of us who have identified the audience and demographic that we are attempting to create comics for, this is a fundamental problem that has yet to be consistently addressed. In fact, not everyone in the current comics market is entirely convinced that this is a problem. After all, the major publishers are making money. Retailers are making money (barely). The only people not making money are those foolish enough to try selling meat to vegans.

Some would even point out that graphic novels were placed in major bookstores to mixed results, at best. If those kinds of venue placement were not able to change buying habits, what’s the point? This would be a valid argument if a mass marketing campaign had accompanied the placement, alerting mass market audiences to the fact that literary comics were in their midst. If that campaign was executed, I missed it. Placing comics in a special section (often next to the science fiction and gaming books, genres which have their own niche issues) didn’t help.

If making money creating non-superhero comics is the problem and the wholesale popular association of comics and superheroes through the law of unintended consequences is the root cause, what is the solution? Is there a solution? Lean Six Sigma teaches that “if the problem is x, the solution must by x as well.” If the problem is recontextualized into “poor marketing has confused the audience into thinking that comics are a genre,” the solution should be to “educate the public about genre diversity through marketing.”

When designing systems from the ground up, it is often tempting to emulate existing infrastructures without thinking through the implications, strengths and weaknesses of doing so. It is worthwhile to understand what practices are in place due to pre-existing limitations that no longer exist, for example. There is not often time to engage in hardcore business process re-engineering when things are growing organically. But if you are going to radically redesign something, it is worthwhile to put the entire ass into the effort – never do something half-assed unless you have absolutely no time and no choice.

For example, as creators started to produce work that did not necessarily go through established superhero publishers, they emulated the format, marketing and distribution of those companies on the theory that these business practices worked for the superhero industry and should therefore have universal utility. This attitude ignores the fact that regular publication in an episodic format requires a robust business infrastructure – which most creators don’t have. It also ignores that superhero publishers direct their marketing material at a niche audience that they have spent decades carefully cultivating.

Finally, it ignores that the retailers are almost entirely focused on servicing the needs of that niche market to the exclusion of almost everyone else. More importantly, the stereotype of a standard comic book store has been burned into the mass imagination, causing a large part of the aversion to the comic book medium. Most people cannot imagine entering a comic book store to browse simply because of what is not only a stereotype, but a stereotype that is poorly defended.

To be sure, there are comic book stores that are bright and airy and present a generous amount of entertainment options for any person who walks through the door, regardless of skin color, gender or religious background. In other words, retailers who understand the concept of genres. Who understand that a store should be open and inviting, to encourage browsing. Whose primary customer base is probably still superhero readers or people who grew up reading superheroes and shake their heads a lot – because the mass audience isn’t inclined to go into a comic book store by reflex.

To this point, I’ve noticed that even retailers who get the whole concept of multiple genres are not always making a visible attempt to actively educate the mass audience about the diversity of product in their stores, which would be a logical next step of any basic business development plan for a retail establishment with a broad potential audience. It’s possible that I haven’t seen it because most retailers would naturally focus educational mass marketing campaigns at the people within walking distance of their stores because that’s whose business they care about first and foremost.

The first question that any decent business analyst will ask a would-be businessman is “what is your audience?” Keeping in mind that most creative types are not notorious for their business acumen, most comics creators that want to make “anything but superhero comics” do not seem to have ever considered this question. If pressed, most creators would give the default answer – “people who read comics.” Due to the previously-identified terminology ambiguity, this could mean “people who read superhero comics” or something analogous to “people who watch movies.” Publishers and agents generally work better with a slightly higher level of precision.

There is no good reason why a creator producing work for any audience that is not 18-50 year old white males (the core superhero demographic) should attempt to emulate the business practices and/or the infrastructure of superhero publishers with no modification whatsoever. Any activity that results in selling work to any audience that is not the stated target audience of that work has a low probability of financial success.

In my day job, we often say “trust but verify.” After all, publishing often boils down to risk management; risk mitigation often involves looking for precedents and validation before embarking on radical business plans. It’s easy to understand why you’d want to validate that the radical business plan of “expand readership demographics by explaining that there are other genres, through marketing” might produce a positive result. An international profitable comics industry that features a diversity of genre in a healthy market would probably be very helpful for the purposes of contrast and comparison.

As it turns out, the French comics market (not manga – that horse is too easy to stalk) offers very good precedents and general business practices. It would be easy to dismissively point to the cultural differences between England and France as a reason not to pay attention to this alternative; after all, Normandy has not been part of England for 800 years. This is easily countered by pointing out that the shared cultural history of the two peoples goes back 1200 years before that.

When I went to Angouleme, I picked up a copy of Marianne – a mainstream literary magazine – that was running a special about Bandes Dessinees (BD) in honor of the festival. It listed 13 distinct genres and gave recommendations for each category. My wife pointed out that there was no demographic among the festival attendees. There were school groups, families, adults without children, seniors and students. All ages, all walks of life.

BD is a mass medium because it is treated like a mass medium. Specialty shops exist, but are treated like any other general-interest bookstore. Plus, the Virgin Megastore on the Champs Elysees has an entire floor dedicated to BD, which is more than I can say for the Virgin Megastore I visited in London.

The lesson I learned from exposure to a different market is that “it doesn’t have to be this way.” Superheroes do not have to be the only genre or the only industry in the market; or even the only market – horror and romance are completely different markets and are treated very differently by their producers, publishers and distributors. Statistically speaking, there are probably other audiences that have no idea what comics have to offer because nobody has bothered to correct their pre-conceived notions.

The knowledge of other genres is taken for granted among those of us whose tastes have transcended the base realm of superhero product in favor of hand-crafted artisanal limited editions and English translations of mainstream BD. We’ve been preaching the message of diversity for years to the superhero fans in an attempt to challenge their palate. The new message is exactly the same, but the audience is everyone else for a completely different reason. The new audience has to get past reflexive distaste where the superhero reader had to get past reflexive fanaticism. In fact, superhero fans are probably tired of the agitation and would be happy if we ignored them for a bit. It’s easier to explain why this is a bad idea than to actually take the risk, but that’s why people who have nothing to lose and everything to gain traditionally do this sort of thing.

History has proven that is entirely possible for dedicated, driven individuals to create an entire business infrastructure from whole cloth in a relatively short period of time. Usually, this involves the creation of a business case, actual market research and innovative advertising. (In the case of non-superhero comics, advertising directed at any audience but the superhero audience counts as innovative.)

Discontent has often proven a good fuel for these kinds of endeavors. Consider: if there was not such a visceral reaction to industrial superhero comics product, there would not be so many people who have said to themselves “I could do better than that.” The desire to exploit a blind spot can also be a strong motivator. Whatever works.

And those people who make their money on superheroes? They will continue to do so, unconcerned by creators seeking other audiences. After all, the point is that superheroes are aimed at a select audience that more often than not doesn’t necessarily overlap with the target audience of the diverse material currently available. Educating a different audience through marketing should not change that status quo. The sleeping giant can continue to slumber, undisturbed. Really, this isn’t actually about the giant – it’s about dealing with the shadow he creates.

6Apr/120

Question the Default Assumptions

April 6th, 2012

Any serious creator should have a business plan if they want to make money doing what they are doing. Part of developing that business plan should be a long, hard look at the challenges that the creator has to overcome. There should also be an examination of the default practices of the people who are currently making money, especially those practices that address those challenges. Ultimately, the creator has to decide if those practices make sense for someone with far less resources and infrastructure. That decision-making process is easier to do if there is a good understanding of what benefits (if any) those default practices actually bring and why.

In general, three major challenges facing the first-time comic book creator include distribution, genre and format. To a degree, these are interrelated and can only be addressed seperately to a point. The most obvious challenge is distribution, which makes it a logical starting point.

Diamond Comics is the main distribution channel for comic books in North America and, as such, has become a monopoly. This is the result of years of optimization by superhero publishers who want to sell their products to specialty stores who will then sell those products to their customers – who are mostly superhero fans. This supply chain is known as the Direct Market and it operates exactly the way it is meant to. From the perspective of the largest comic book publishers, the monopoly aspect of the Direct Market is not a bug, it is a feature that restricts access to the market.

Unfortunately, most first-time creators make the very common mistake of believing that this distribution channel can (and should) be used by anyone. They neglect to ask the basic research questions that are common to anyone building a business plan – Does the default distribution channel work for me? Will the default distribution channel get my products to my target audience?

And really, it depends on what the needs of the individual creator really are. If you are trying to sell a 24-page monthly superhero comic to superhero fans, then the Direct Market might meet your needs. If you aren’t, then it probably won’t. Understanding that the Direct Market should not be the default distribution channel for the vast majority of comic books (and why) is a huge first step.

So what is a good distribution channel? Well, that depends on the genre, doesn’t it? Most first-time creators have a hard time remembering that there are other genres besides superheroes. It sounds really stupid to walk up to someone and say, “Hey, I see that you like watching DVDs. Would you be interested in watching my DVD?” Why doesn’t this sound stupid when DVD is replaced with comics?

Somehow, this has become the basic marketing strategy that everyone uses. This default assumption implies that comic book readers are interested in the medium first and the content second – which is why everyone is trying so hard to get their work into specialty stores; that’s where the comic book readers hang out, right? (Actually, that’s where the superhero readers hang out, which is only marginally helpful if you are working in any other genre.)

One of the basic questions in every business plan is “Who is your audience?” If the answer to that question is any variation on “comic book readers,” then you need to put some more thought into your business plan. Basic market research will tell you that there is a population of people who are, in theory, sympathetic to the idea of comics as a mechanism for telling stories. However, the vast majority of them do not know that comics are anything more than superheros – mostly due to poor market visibility.

But if you are making a science fiction comic, it would not hurt you to sell directly to science fiction fans first and let the comic book retailers catch up once you have established an audience. If the choice is to educate superhero readers or non-comics readers on the fact that non-superhero comics exist, which has a better return on investment?

Many people believe that selling digital copies of comics will enable first-time creators to do an end-run around Diamond and the entire Direct Market system and sell their work directly to readers. This will only work well if the creator is savvy enough to market their work to genre readers. Most creators are not this savvy.

As a rule, most digital business plans work on the assumption that the digital sales front will enable an end-user to purchase a service or a tangible object – the digital sales front merely works as a substitute for the storefront. Sadly, selling pixels is not always the best way to monetize content.

But just because selling comics on the web is not a great profit generator doesn’t mean that the web is a bad prospect for initial serialization. In fact, putting a comic out on the web is an excellent means of building an audience. Serializing a book a page at time has been proven to be a best practice among webcomics creators for years. What most creators struggle with is how to monetize the content that has been provided for free.

Again, it helps to look at default assumptions about format and decide whether those defaults are actual best practices or just in place because that’s the way that it has always been done. For example, who says that comics on the web have to be complete pages? European comics like Asterix were originally serialized at the rate of half a page a week in anthology magazines, but the collections are where the money was made.

And, to be honest, collections make sense as a money-maker for comics that were originally presented for free on the web. If the audience for your comic is not the default superhero reader, then there are less expectations that have to be addressed. These readers might be more likely to purchase something with a spine if they are already familiar with the original content. It is important to understand that you are selling paper, ink and convenience – not the content. It is even possible to provide an easy value-add to a collected edition of a webcomic if you were so inclined; present the free web version in black and white and present the collected print edition in color.

It is important to remember that priting costs scale in favor of collected editions. The margins that come with printing monthly comics are as thin as the product, which means the money has to be made in aggregate and the break-even costs require a huge amount of sell-through. Basic math indicates that a thicker profit margin requires less absolute sales to reach the break-even point.

Another example of a default format decision is the size of the printed page. Currently, monthly comics are printed at 6.625 inches by 10.25 inches. But when it comes to printing costs, it does not cost much more to print comics at 8.5 by 11. Interestingly, the only group of people who expect the monthly comic size are superhero readers. Most non-comics readers are more comfortable with magazines, which are printed at 8.5 by 11. (The additional square inches of the slightly larger page actually work towards the benefit of the creator, because it allows slightly more content per page.)

I could go on, but I think I’ve made my point. There are as many ways to make comics as there are creators who want to make them. I believe that the key to a healthy comics market is diversity – in genre, in format and in distribution methodology. It’s nice to think that there should be a one-size-fits-all solution, but that doesn’t actually make a lot of sense in practice. Tailored solutions have a better overall chance of success. At some point, the Diamond monopoly is going to collapse and it would be beneficial to have multiple proven alternatives in place when it does.

More importantly, there is no compelling reason why a first-time creator should be interested in providing solutions for large corporations – they have staff to do that for them and will not reward your efforts. There is, however, a compelling reason to figure out how to get your comic books to your target audience in the most efficient, cost-effective manner possible. And sometimes that means figuring out that “default” implies that you can change the settings to suit your needs.

6Feb/110

If Indie Comics are Going to Save Our Medium, What the Hell are they Waiting For?

February 6th, 2011

There’s been a lot of kerfuffle about creator owned comics lately. For my money, the best post I’ve read so far has been Carla Speed McNeil’s take on the matter. Of course, she’s talking about self-publishing, not creator owned comics. And I generally refer to what I do as making independant comics.

We may not all be using the same terminology, but we’re all talking about the same thing – making our own work for our own long-term benefit. The only real difference is the scope of the conversation. Some talk about why large publishers should change their editorial policies or refine their marketing presentations. Others talk about distribution and retail opportunities. These are worthwhile and necessary conversations.

The thing is, though, that I greatly prefer reading articles that contain a tone of “we should” instead of a tone of “they should.” They should implies that someone else has the onus of responsibility to change their way of doing business. Someone like Tom Spurgeon is in a position to point out where they should probably make some changes. (That’s not meant to disparage Tom – it’s a great analysis and recommended reading if you want some strategic goals to work towards.)

But I like Carla’s take on the situation better because it’s more tactical – down in the trenches where the little fish like myself live. It provides some pointers that I can use immediately or in the near term. And it’s got the tone of “I did this,” which is pretty close to “we should” by way of “you should, too.”

One thing that Tom and Carla have in common is the fact that they both mention marketing, which is one of the biggest obstacles that any comics creator has to grapple with. It’s a nebulous entity with uncertain goals and not everyone is good at it. Behind printing and distribution, the number three service of good publishers is marketing.

As far as I’m concerned, the one thing that all indie creators would benefit from is some form of marketing tool that we can plug our products into in the same way that we can plug our content into a Print on Demand vendor like Comixpress. The results that I derive from this tool would depend on my goals and how much good effort I was willing to put into it’s use. And the mileage would (and should) vary between users, based on experience, target audience and quality of content.

I’m not smart enough to come up with this kind of tool on my own – my marketing abilities are limited. But I have done a lot of thinking along these lines and come to some conclusions. Here are some points that might be able to help some of my fellow creators moving forward.

- If the health of an artform can be measured by how many people are working in it with no serious expectation of long-term reward, the comics medium could run a triathalon – so don’t pay much attention when people predict that comics are going to die off. There are a lot of really creative people being drawn to comics right now for a very wide variety of reasons. If nothing else, these people form a primary market of readers who pass around each other’s books and make recommendations to their peers.

- Digital distribution is merely another form of publication. And every form of publication still falls prey to the need for marketing. If you cannot successfully tell someone about your product in paper format, what makes you think that you’re going to be more successful telling them about it just because it’s on the web? (That assumes that you had a website for your printed product in the first place.)

- Sitting around and waiting for a large corporation to change their editorial policies to suit your long-term goals is not an effective strategy for personal success. Nor is waiting for someone’s permission. But that’s not an excuse to skimp on editors.

- Marketing to the core audience of Marvel and DC readers does not work reliably enough to be called a best practice. This is as good a reason as any not to engage the Direct Market any more than is necessary to cover your bases.

- There is a distinction between commercial material and good material. There is good commercial material and bad commercial material. And there is simply good material that just isn’t commercial. Some people like that kind of thing. Other people really like material that cannot be easily categorized. The trick is finding those people.

- Comics are everywhere, a format that everyone knows and comprehends. It makes sense that the potential exists for a larger market for comic books than the Direct Market. If you are going to have to educate readers on the fact that there are other genres besides superheroes anyway, it is just as easy to do so to people who have never read comics before. And, I would argue, much more advantageous to everyone else because you’re introducing a fresh non-comics reader to a large universe of material instead of recruiting someone already inside the fold. When in doubt, look outside for new readers.

- It is easier to sell someone on the concept of comics than on any one specific comic title. This is the reason why I keep going on about a catalog – by providing a variety of choices, there is a suggestion that something might appeal. It’s also an easier sales threshold to meet, as well as an opportunity for education.

I don’t really have a good conclusion for this, but I will say that you will get good results if you spend as much time making comics as you do talking about them.

6Jan/110

New Strategies for the New Year

January 6th, 2011

After nearly a month-long hiatus, I figure that this blog has lost all three of it’s regular readers and I now how have to cultivate another group of interested parties.

With that in mind, I’m changing my focus just a little bit for the new year. One of the responsibilities that I picked up during the month of December was to increase the exposure and brand awareness of the DC Comics Conspiracy – the local comics group that I belong to. I have not actually had a chance to implement anything yet, but I do have multiple overlapping marketing strategies.

These include:

- A catalog for the DC Conspiracy members and their publications. Cinebook, Fantagraphics and Picturebox have all sent me beautiful catalogs with the books that I ordered from them. A catalog for the DC Conspiracy would make an easy free handout for interested consumers in nearly any venue – if no book on the table is interesting, perhaps something in the back catalog might strike their fancy.

- Diversifying the kinds of shows that we attend as a group. Small Press Expo is our big show of the year – which makes sense, it’s a local show and we’re the local comics group. Not representing ourselves at SPX is just lazy. The past two years, we’ve had enough creators to take up a full row of tables and this year will probably be no different.

However, there are other, non-comic related shows that we can attend in the DC metro area – literary shows, craft shows, neighborhood street festivals and so forth. The concept is that by being the only comics creators at the show, we will stand out from the crowd. This strategy will probably take two years to really gather momentum, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

- Selling adspace in our comics newspaper, the Magic Bullet. The first issue debuted at Baltimore Comic-Con and was free, which meant that it disappeared really fast – almost to the point where we didn’t have copies for contributors. Almost. Taking a cue from other comics newspapers, we’re including ads in the subsequent issues. Hopefully, this will allow us to also find venues for distribution, on the theory that if you bought an ad, you’ll want people to read the newspaper and see the ad. We have also set up a Kickstarter project for printing the second issue of the Magic Bullet.

Obviously, these ideas are still in their infancy, but it makes sense to start doing something practical rather than just talking about doing something.

14Dec/100

A Personal Note and Further Reading

December 14th, 2010

I apologize for the lack of content in recent weeks. Before Thanksgiving, my mind was wrapped in happy thoughts of vacation. Since December started, however, my mind has been preoccupied by thoughts of a surgical procedure that has been scheduled for next week. Whatever attention I have left has been claimed by the day job. The extent of my thinking about comic books has been torn between the vain attempt to not come up with any new stories and final production details on the graphic novels going to print in the spring. Marketing just isn’t holding my interest at the moment.

I recognize this bundle of justification as the excuse it is and would not ordinarily offer it – except that I don’t want people to think that I got discouraged. Sidelined, yes. Discouraged, no.

It is fair to say that I have done a lot of thinking lately, but I have not come to many conclusions. But while I am waiting for that to happen, I thought that you might be interested in some things that other people are saying on the same topics. After all, a lot of people have noticed that the marketing and distribution system is not optimized in any of the print markets – books, comics and role playing games.

Comics meets microtargeting sounds an awful lot like an early prototype of my catalog idea. I should probably get in touch…

10 Things to consider before self-publishing. This is the kind of thing that can never be said enough. It is difficult enough to create and attempt to be recognized without having to listen to people whine about how their unrealistic goals aren’t being met. If you are not willing to learn what the frequent pitfalls are, you deserve to fall into them.

A scene that celebrates itself has nothing to celebrate. I thought this was an excellent piece of harnessed rage. I just wish he’d fleshed out some of his points.

Rethinking conventions. There’s some good math in here and it mirrors what I’ve been thinking about larger, superhero-oriented conventions.

Want a recommendation? This kind of connector site is an example of one of those niche services that are likely to spring up between readers and creators as the distribution/marketing space mutates.

Speaking of which, Seth Godin’s The Domino Project is aimed at optimizing that interface.

Neal Stephenson is also doing something interesting with The Mongoliad. Why? Because he can. Which is really the key insight, here.

I’m not sure what to think about the idea that marketing isn’t currently a science, but will have to be in order to keep up. It sounds right.

9 strategies to make your ideas more successful comes close, though.

Copyright and the economy of webcomics is a 52 page pdf. Make of that what you will.

I like the idea of an exclusive members only sales site, but it really only works if demand exists first.

Finally, 17 alternatives to PayPal. If only because it’s worth knowing what the options are.

18Nov/100

What is the Intended Audience?

November 18th, 2010

So we have a catalog. So what? Who’s going to read it? Who do we want to read it? As it turns out, these are distinct questions with distinct answers.

The list of who’s going to read it starts with Jess Nevins and his son Indiana Henry and goes from there. Archivists, journalists, reviewers, retailers and other interested parties are the most likely suspects in this particular scenario.

On the other hand, the list of people that we want to be reading is a little more vague. There are any number of good demographics that are just outside the current comic book market: art students, tattoo artists, graffiti artists, design majors, makers, costume people, Burning Man participants, people who play rpgs, hipsters, punks, goths, rockabilly kids, Rastafarians, old hippies, furries, sci fi geeks and/or Def Con attendees.

In theory, any and all of these groups contain people who have read comics in the past or are open to the idea of reading comics. Many in this theorhetical subset of “open to the idea of comics” and/or lapsed readers probably don’t know that there are non-superhero comics available. Would they buy non-superhero comics if they knew about them? Maybe. Maybe not. But isn’t that the point of marketing – to set up the potential for new readership?

One thing is certain: there is no point in marketing a catalog for the Indirect Market to the Direct Market’s customer base. It’s good to let them know that it exists, but it isn’t important enough to waste time contributing to the ongoing noise. If that audience was interested in the Indirect Market, they would be going to SPX or APE or any of the other shows of that caliber and ilk.

However, it’s one thing to identify an audience and it’s another thing entirely to market to them. One approach might be to pick a group – tattoo artists, for example – and figure out where they congregate. As it turns out, there are a bewildering number and variety of tattoo conventions around the country and throughout the year.

A standard for most conventions is the so-called “Swag bag” (aka Stuff We All Get). Most conventions are happy to take marketing materials for Swag bags because that’s the whole point. In the event that a catalog would not be acceptable for the Swag bag, however, it’s just as easy to walk around a tattoo convention and talk to the individual artists – especially if that conversation is basically “here’s something free, please put it out in your waiting room for people to flip through.”

It isn’t really necessary to do this for every tattoo show in the country, however. It really only makes sense to do this for a few key shows. A place like Las Vegas would be a perfect epicenter for this kind of “outside the traditional audience” marketing. After all, it’s basically the convention capital of the United States. Not every convention would be a perfect fit – the National Potato Council is probably not the correct audience, but the Adult Entertainment Expo might be. Or the Promotional Products Association Expo.

The point I’m trying to make is not just that the Indirect Market has to think outside the box when it comes to audience, but that it has to come up with completely new boxes, full stop. Finding a group of people with tangental interests and talking to them is only so effective as a single individual trying to sell his own work, but a group marketing artifact like a catalog does a lot of the heavy lifting all on it’s own. The pitch isn’t as important as getting that catalog into the hands of someone who might be interested in it – or might hand it off to someone else who doesn’t know yet that they will be very interested in it.