Recently, I got invited to join a Yahoo club for comic creators. As I was looking through the gallery, I saw some of the artists' work. Some of it was very technically good, though one of them represented everything that's wrong with the industry. It was a woman who, quite literally, had breasts larger than her head. I couldn't help but wonder what compels a person to produce such schlock, or for that matter what sort of person is so devoid of style that they're willing to let the general public know they have issues over not being breast fed as a child?
 There's a lot of really bad stuff out there. There's a lot of generic stuff out there. But there's some real gems, if you're willing to dig through it all. I saw that in Artist's Alley at Wizard World last year. But it certainly is a thankless task, not meant for anyone but the most passionate.
 Which brings me to the current topic of my ranting. I initially started the comic off as a monthly production but I think I'm going to scale back. It looks like I'm about to be back in the world of full time employment. Ironically, that often makes me more productive, since I have to be a lot more structured with my time and don't have the chance to piss it away. But it does mean setting schedules for myself, it means prioritizing. But I think it's going to be a bi-monthly production.
 One reason for this is that I want to give it more time to sell. Frankly, it's pretty stiff competition to get a self published book read. Even if the comic shop puts your book in a visible spot, chances are there's fifty other books there too. And the average person doesn't even look at that section, let alone flip through that many of the self published stuff. They like certain titles, they like certain publishers, and most of these are pre set before they even go into the shop. Of course the other side of this is if you even sell one or two, it's mighty flattering. But it definitely is a labor of love.
But wait there's more.
 You also give away a lot of copies. (Atleast I do, I believe in as much of a promo angle as possible.) Do you have any idea how many of these copies were given with Christmas presents? Every friend, every family member, every vagrant who told me they were hungry, every Jehovah's Witness who offers to leave me with literature gets a copy of Random Cryptic Function. But worse than the lack of sales is the lack of feedback. My wonderfully sweet and supportive boyfriend told me how brilliant it was but that's about it. If I'm lucky, I hear a mumbling of "Um nice comic...anyways, so did you hear about susie's demon fetus spontaneously aborting?"  That's if I'm lucky. Chances are, I'll never hear a comment on it again. No it was great, no it wasn't my thing, no you're a sick and disturbed puppy that fills my soul with terror.
 Nothing.
And nothing is about the worst thing you could do.
Granted my style is a bit odd. I mean a demon cat courting some sociopathic Sicilian who's out for revenge isn't everybody's cup of tea. And granted, I tend to be somewhat on the abstract side.  But what I always wonder is, why can't anyone ever tell me it? It's not like I'm thin skinned, it's not like I personalize artistic criticism.
 People seem to have this fear of a critique. They fear getting it and fear giving it. But you know what? No one ever became good at anything by being mollycoddled. And no one ever believed the feeble and nervous "I liked it". Silence doesn't do any favors. And you know what? I have never done any friend the disservice of withholding critique. So I'd rather it not be done to me.
Love it, hate it, use it as toilet paper or start a new religion with it...but goddammit, give me an opinion...

 january    pontifications