Stumblebum Studios Archives
  Archives Home
 
Don't Call It A Comeback by Josh Dahl

“Comics are for kids.”

If you have been around comics at all, you have probably heard some version of this favorite old un-truism. In recent years, as the general awareness of comics has been raised slightly, that old saying has been losing some ground to the Wertham era version:

“I wouldn't let my kid read those.”

It goes back and forth between scorn and adoration, and there is always a little bit of both from some corner or another. The only trick is to ride it out and get while the getting is good.
But, I am not writing this to talk about the perception of comics in modern society. Rather, I am writing about another, sneakier, version of the malignant phrase above. It is neither as wide-spread nor as often vocalized. But I bet it has wormed its way into your brain, if not out of your mouth, at one point or another. If it did it might sound like this:

“Comics are for kids.”

It sounds the same, but depending on the source, the meaning can be quite different. For those who are in-the-know enough to know better, “comics” is a reference to the comic book business, and “kids” means young people. Or, as the kind of editor who old J. Jonah Jameson was created to be a parody of might put it:

“This comics biz is a young man's game.”

And if he did put it that way, he'd be just as wrong as J.J.J. always is.
Did I say that this idea was probably in your head at some point? Yes, I did. And I also attributed the same idea to folks who are “in-the-know”. I think, at this point, it is safe to assume that people who read columns like this one are aware of, and interested in, the behind-the-scenes goings on of the comics industry. That makes you “in-the-know”.

In getting to this point, you have shed some misconceptions. Some were lost by just learning new facts, some disappeared in bright moments of vision and clarity, and some slipped away so smoothly that you never really knew they were there. This particular misconception is one of the latter. So when was it there? When did you think that the comics business was for the young?
When we all did, when we were young.

So, where does this widely held, and erroneous, belief come from? And where does it go? I'll explain.

It is perfectly reasonable.
For the most part, there is no established “correct” way to enter the comics field. Almost everyone who takes a step behind the curtain does so on a whim or in an arrogant fit of “I can do that”. This moment of realizing that you can, or should, do something with your life usually happens when you are stepping out of adolescence. And the blind courage it takes to step into shark filled waters of comics is the same blind courage it takes to ride a skateboard or throw eggs at a police car. All of those are things you never see established adults taking a stab at.

Your first real, non-fanboy blinded glimpse at a comics creator could be a look in the mirror. You are considering making your own comic (or starting a comics web-page, or making t-shirts, or doing reviews, or something) and you are young. 100% of all the comics creators and insiders you have encountered at this point are young. It is reasonable to think that comics are for the young.

So you head out into the world. You go to a regional comic book show. Sure, you have been to these before. Maybe you even saw John Byrne at one. He's no spring chicken. Neither are any of the guys who signed your books. But, be honest, you didn't really think of them as individuals. You never considered how they got to that point in life, or to the convention center that afternoon. To you, they were a living, moving, out-growth of the comics industry.

And even as you are starting to think of yourself as part of that industry, you still don't think of those big-time pros as your peers. In fact, at your first real convention as an aspiring insider (even if you haven't yet vocalized those aspirations) you don't even pay much attention to those established pros. No, you head right past them to sections of the con floor that you may have barely noticed before. The small press area an artist's alley.

You have been secretly harboring this belief that you could make it into the comics biz and suddenly you find evidence that supports it. For the first time you really take notice of the people who are doing it for themselves and you notice two very important things. They are young like you and there are lots and lots of them. A lot more than there are sitting behind those tables at the major publisher's lavish spreads.

Deep down you may have been running some calculations. Or just observing the numbers without crunching them. Two, three, or four times as many young upstarts as there are seasoned pros. Things are looking good for the young side. The numbers are lining up with your view of the world.

Of course, you realize that the folks representing “the majors” are just a small portion of that company's actual stable of creators. But, you also realize that it is that same half dozen big companies represented at every regional comic convention in the country. And that math part of your brain starts at it again. The same handful of big companies coming up against a new army of small pressers at every convention in every major city across the country?

Looks you chose exactly the right moment in history to enter the field. You can step right in atop a cresting wave of youthful energy and enthusiasm.

So, you go home energized. It can be done and now is the time to do it. You saw those other guys, they were doing it! And maybe they were even too close to realize what a grand revolution they were about to be a part of. You will be proud to lend you pencil and your pen to this coming revolution.

But you need something to contribute, so you get back to that drawing board and you get cracking. You made some friends and you took some notes. You know what to do to make the first real steps in. Yeah, IN.

So, next year you have your own table. Maybe you are even sharing a table with some of your fellow devil-may-care Bastille-stormers. It is sensory overload but when you come down for a minute off of the high of people appreciating your work you notice that the legions of upstarts are being reinforced by still more troops. And this time you are on the other side of the table. Smiling and ushering them into the brave new world that you are sure awaits them. The world that you are boldly blazing a trail into.
More and more young upstart creators swell the ranks at every convention every year, and the big guys just seem to stay the same. A stationary target.

And before you realize it, you are leading the charge. At the head of the pack. Wait a minute. Where are the brave souls that ushered you in, shouldn't they be ahead of you? You turn to look for them and when you turn back your battalion is dispersing. It's not a full retreat but it is certainly not the Charge of the Light Brigade. Luckily you had a few other things going that you can fall back on.

And so it goes.

Some version of that, anyway.

It really, really, looked like it was finally time for a big change. So why didn't it work? Nothing as dramatic as leadership failure or betrayal. No, the truth is that you never had a chance. The truth is that the numbers lied to you, and the system (or lack thereof) set you up to fail.

What seemed to be an ever growing legion of young artists was actually a swarming sea of quickly disillusioned dabblers and hobbyists. Like many truly passionate people do, you made the mistake of assuming that others shared the depth of your commitment. Or in some cases, those who came before you made it look easy, and it wasn't. And it still isn't.

But that still isn't the whole story. Even if you completely discount all of those whose hearts aren't really in it. The numbers would seem to show an industry that would turn over like a High School, graduating a new class every single year.

So why is this not the case? Why does comics eat its young?

Because comics is an art and an industry that is pretty unique. Basically, there is no correct way to get in. Yeah, there are jobs to be had at the big companies, but the chances of filling those slots as an untested rookie are so slim that, statistically, they may as well not exist. Competition is fierce and there is a lot to lose on an unproven commodity. Whoever you are, you can't count on applying for a job at the top and getting it. This is obvious. This is the case with any sane business in the world. How are comics different?

Let's say you want to be an engineer. There is an established way in for you. There is a path to take. And you can rocket to the head of your program at Case Western Reserve University at the age of 15, or you can plod through your state college and graduate at 27. Either way, you are getting there. You are making progress. It feels like you are doing something. Such is the case with most professional careers, but not with comics. There are university programs around the country that study the art form, but not as a career path. Even the list of notable graduates from the Joe Kubert School doesn't boast that many luminaries.

Professional athletics seems to have a similar hierarchical structure with just a few positions at the top that everyone is vying for. But even that system is more regimented than comics. Minor leagues, college teams, scouts, stats, all of that. I don't know how it works, but for those that do it provides a means of entry as well as a cut off point. If you aren't the best in the state by the end of high school, look for a day job.

Even Hollywood makes more sense. Sometimes folks enter at the top level, but for those who do not, there is a massive industry in which to find some position. There you can toil and hustle and try to get your foot in some door.

The comics business has none of this. It just keeps swinging that crazy carrot around in any direction it feels like and everyone keeps jumping for it. “Someone put that carrot there,” we reason “so there must be a way to get up there.”

And there is a way to get it. But it is really hard and it is a closely guarded secret. And, as if that weren't enough, it takes a long time to learn it. In fact, it usually takes exactly as long as it takes to shed that youthful naiveté that started this whole thing. So, by the time that wave of young upstarts and mavericks has figured it out, many have lost interest, been lured away, burned out, or simply quit. No matter how those very few sweat it out, they aren't so young when they get there. I can tell you what it is, but you probably won't believe me.

How do you break into comics?
Any way you can. And, good luck.

In the end. Comics are fueled by the energies of youth but don't seem to be any place for the young.
Will it always be that way?
Maybe not. Maybe things are changing.
Or maybe it just seems that way because we are all swimming up the same stream towards the same bear.

More about that bear next week.

Visit Josh Dahl at his website www.monolithllc.com