Posted in: Comics | Tagged:

Write Or Wrong #75 – You Will Live The Dream

By Dirk Manning

ITEM: My new one-shot flip-book Love Stories (to Die For) #1 from Image Comics/Shadowline is now in <b.PREVIEWS. If you've enjoyed my previous work — or this column – or both – I'd certainly appreciate it if you'd pre-order a copy from your local comic shop. You can use Diamond Order code JUL130432 or JUL130433 to get your hands on a copy. Just keep in mind that this is a double-sized comic, and not a graphic novel, so this month will be your one and only guaranteed chance to get a copy at cover-price! (You can get more some details on it – and a sneak peek at both stories' covers right here.)

ITEM: Speaking of books I've written, I'm also pleased to announce that Write or Wrong: A Writer's Guide to Creating Comics is now available in eBook format on Kindle! The book collects the best-of-the-best of those early "nuts and bolts" columns about how to format your stories for comics, how and where to meet artists, successfully build your team and the like. Both the print version and the new eBook version for Kindle (as well as the print versions of all three volumes of Nightmare World to date) are available from Amazon right here.

As I've said time and time again over the course of this column, creating comics is a long, lonely, and oftentimes expensive process.

Admittedly, if you find someone who shares your creative vision closely enough you may have found someone who agrees to work with you for very cheap – and maybe even for free – but even if that's the case, there's still the cost of hosting your comics online, printing them, and attending conventions and book signings to promote them.

Setting up at comic book conventions is a bit of a catch-22 for a lot of independent/unsigned comic creators, with the pros and cons (no pun intended) often cancelling one other out, even in the best case scenarios.

Obviously there's no point in requesting/buying a table at a comic convention if you don't have physical product to sell. That much – I hope – is obvious.

The quandary that many independent creators find themselves in, though, is what to do once you've amassed enough material to have, say, a few books on your table. Should you pull the trigger?

This was something I wrestled with a lot when I was first getting started. Even using Print-On-Demand publishing options such as Ka-Blam, the maximum profit I could hope to make on a self-published print-on-demand comic usually floated around a dollar a single issue, and if I wanted to set up at a bigger comic convention where tables cost several hundred dollars (and that of course wouldn't include room, food and travel expenses), well, it was all but guaranteed that I would be spending a few hundred dollars to be there – even when splitting a hotel room and/or table with someone.

Once you get to the point where you have enough content to sell, though, attending comic conventions is the cost of doing business.

After all, you have to spend money to make money.

I know what some of you out there are thinking: "I don't have several hundred dollars to spend on setting up at a convention."

If this is you, believe me, I can relate. As I outline in very frank detail in the Write or Wrong book, I've been there and I know how that goes.

Now, that being said, don't tell me you don't have the money to attend even one comic convention a year if you spend hundreds of dollars a year on comic books, video games, concerts, weekly bar-hopping trips, MP3s and the like. There's a big difference between not having the money to promote your comic at conventions and having the money but spending it on other things instead.

I take this "tough love" approach because, dammit, no one else is going to help you along in your comic book career as much as you will.

Not the artists you work with.

Not your friends.

Not your family.

Not your publisher, should you be lucky enough to get one.

You need to do the legwork and sacrifice yourself if you want to make it happen, folks.

While I've have had some comics published by Image and a few other publishers, that has never afforded me the privilege of being able to "coast"… whether it's on my creator-owned work or my work-for-hire gigs.

But enough about me.

For the sake of this column – which is an anniversary column, no less! – let's talk about you.

Specifically, a future version of you.

The version of you that has been taking all the right steps in regard to successfully working with artists and making comics.

It takes both a large financial investment as well as a lot of confidence in your product to go out "on the road" with your comic, even if it's just once or twice a year…

But that's how you start.

You save up a little money here and there all year and – once a year – you're going to buy a table in Artist Alley at a semi-large show and go there with the intent to network with other professionals, promote your work, and, if you're lucky, even sell a few copies of your comic.

Each year you have a little more success in all three of these areas and, by virtue of setting up at the same show year after year, more casual attendees will start to recognize you and they'll come over to check out your stuff.

And then, because you're smart enough to make sure that you have new content at your table every year, you start to sell more and more of your work – both old and new.

After a few years you can take the next step of adding more shows. It's still an investment, of course, but given that you're not losing as much money at the other shows (due to increased sales for the reasons listed above), you can now spread yourself out a little bit more.

You'll follow these same patterns at the new shows, too, with similar results: meeting more people (fellow professionals and fans alike), selling more books, and getting your name and brand out there more and more.

One day one of your favorite artists will walk by your table before the show opens, see your stand-up banner (because you have one of those now), stop in his tracks, and start looking at your work, explaining that he's been hearing your name mentioned more and more and that he's curious about what you do. You'll give him copies of all your work, and later that year you'll ask him to provide you with a "pull-quote" for your next book. He'll agree to do so, and a professional friendship is formed.

The more shows you do, the more that type of thing will start to happen.

A few years after doing the same few conventions over and over again you decide to yet again take things to "the next level," this time taking on three additional shows in three straight weekends – in addition to booking your usual set of conventions.

You still work a "day job" as well, of course, and even though the grind of the experience almost kills you, it is financially successful enough for you that you decide to do the same thing the following year, only this time it's four shows – two of your standbys and two new ones – in four straight weekends.

(Unbeknownst to you at the time, this tour will turn into five shows in five straight weekends before all is said and done… but more on that in a bit.)

The first show of this tour for you is C2E2 in Chicago, Illinois.

This is a show you've set up at every year, so you're a "known quantity" to the many of the attendees of the show – both fellow professionals and casual fans – and as a result many of them make it a point to swing by your table to see you and what new work you have with you this year.

Given that C2E2 is one of the most expensive shows you attend, you always make it a point to share both a table and a hotel room with artist Seth Damoose, whom you've worked with on several occasions at this point and are currently working on a new top-secret project with. Seth is fortunate enough to be able to bring his wonderful wife along, and this makes it like a bit of a mini-vacation (with some work sprinkled-in, of course) for all involved.

Over the years you've stopped buying as many "impulse buys" of TPBs at your local comic shop, instead keeping a list and bringing it with you to comic conventions so that you can (hopefully) find them in the "50% Off" and/or "$5 Bins" scattered about larger shows such as this one. Sometimes you feel a bit of remorse about not supporting your local comic shops more by buying them all there… but remind yourself that the money you save this way is the money that you can put towards making your own comics.

After all, do you want to spend more of your money supporting the dreams of others… or your own?

Sales are very steady for you at this show, to the point where you're hardly able to leave the table without someone somebody stopping by to see you.

You catch up with many of your professional colleagues over the weekend – but not nearly as many of them as you mean to. That's the bad news.

The good news is that you'll have lunch with an editor from a major publisher that you've had a casual professional relationship with for years. You've been doing creator-owned comics for years by this point, and your hard work and dedication is now starting to not only get you noticed, but also to win you the respect of editors and publishers. This bodes well for your future plans. While you certainly can't – or at least shouldn't – pin your hopes of success on others, it's a huge step in the right direction.

On Saturday some friends of yours will even surprise you with a doll of yourself.

Yes… really.

Lots of other cool things will happen to you over the course of the show.

One of your favorite bands from your old music journalism days is performing a one-off reunion show in Chicago the same weekend as the convention. You spend more money than you probably should hopping a cab to go see them, but it's be worth it if for no other reason to catch up with your old friends in Broadzilla again.

Billy Tucci swings by your table while you're gone and leaves a nice note on your table because he's one of the nicest people in comics.

You bust out the official (and very rarely seen in person) Dirk Manning top hat to help host a live game show with your dear friends from the Panels on Pages podcast, despite the fact that it will involve you getting hit in the face with slices of cheese over and over and over again.

You eat ice cream for breakfast every day because you are a grown-ass man (or woman).

A wonderful little girl, whose parents like your work, asks you for a "My Little Pony" sketch and doesn't care one bit that you're a writer and not an artist and that the sketch before yours is by the mighty Katie Cook because, in this precious little creature's eyes, you're just as cool.

By Sunday you've lost your voice because you've spent so much time talking to friends and readers old and new, but you don't care because you're living the dream that you set out to achieve all those years ago when you dedicated yourself to becoming a bona fide comic book creator.

Before attending C2E2 you ordered enough books for yourself to get you through four straight shows, but by the end of the show you realize that you're going to need to reorder more copies of all your books(!) or you'll run out of inventory after your next appearance.

Take a moment to pat yourself on the back, you've earned it.

While you're home for a few days working the day job, you get the rush-orders of your books (paying a little extra to get them shipped to you in time, but hey, that's the cost of doing business), and then head out for your next stop, a Free Comic Book Day signing at Packrat Comics in Hilliard, Ohio.

As your "status" (for lack of a better word) as a creator has grown over the last several years, you've received more and more invitations to appear at various comic shops for Free Comic Book Day, but year after year you have to decline them all since you're already committed to Packrat Comics.

You commit to appearing at this store every year on this date – even though it's no longer a local stop for you – because many years ago, back when you were first self-publishing, Packrat owners Teresa and Jamie were the first ones to have you in for a comic book signing. You've never forgotten how they were there for you helping you achieve your dreams in the beginning…

And if you're smart you never will.

As is the case with C2E2, you sell a fair amount of books at Packrat Comics because there's a number of people who attend every year to see you and pick up the newest book you have out this year.

In fact, you're flattered and humbled when you learn one particular reader comes out every year to buy your latest work as an annual birthday present to herself, and this reminds you that – in the case of creator-owned comics – you really will build your readership one reader at a time…

And you will remind yourself that making a career in creator-owned comics is a marathon, not a sprint.

You see more old friends and make some new ones, of course, including some of the guys from the uber-awesome B-Grade horror flick Thankskilling.

Your sneak peek from your upcoming comic Tales of Mr. Rhee will also scare the bejeebus out of a small baby.

You leave the signing to attend a local professional wrestling event where you serve as your professional wrestling friend's manager for the evening at a semi-local live event. Before the match he and his fellow wrestling pals talk you into being involved in the finish, and after you spend the whole match riling up the rabid crowd you end up "swerving" your pal, costing him the match. This results in you then getting "knocked out" in the ring and taking a "big splash" from a 500-pound wrestler.

Despite some initial very serious reservations about performing such a potentially dangerous spot, you really don't feel a thing (even though you sell it so well that everyone backstage legitimately thinks your friend's friend broke your ribs). Thanks to your career in comics, you can now cross "Become a Professional Wrestling Manager and Take a Sweet-Looking Wrestling Move" off of your bucket list.

The following day you make the drive from Hilliard, Ohio to Dayton, Ohio to attend a book signing by Joe Hill, who is one of your favorite authors of both comics (such as the phenomenal Locke & Key) and prose novels (such as the spectacular Heart-Shaped Box and N0S4A2) alike. Although you're well-passed your "in awe of celebrities" phase by now, you legitimately almost faint when he asks you to sign copies of your comics for him.

He then later posts a picture of the two of you together – with your comic – on his Twitter feed, offering the world a rare semi-unobstructed view of your ghastly visage.

Going back to work Monday, you wish you could share the awesomeness of your weekend with your co-workers, but you don't, because it's a lot easier to keep your two worlds separate.

During the week you get an invitation to attend Cherry Capital Con in Traverse City, Michigan. While you're friends with the guy who helps run the show, the timing would make it your fifth show in five weekends, and at only two weeks into a four week tour you're already starting to feel the burn…

But then you remember how important it is to support your friends, and how you shouldn't turn down an invitation to be a "Guest" at a convention if you can at all make it work…

So you agree to the show and, yet again, order more books.

Although you try to keep up on your writing obligations, you end up spending the work week mainly resting and "recharging," because, again, this is a marathon, not a sprint.

The following weekend you travel to Fort Wayne, Indiana for Appleseed Con, another show, run by an industry friend, that you like to attend every year.

This show marks the first of three panels you'll be doing in three weeks. You've forced yourself to start doing panels whenever you can since they prove to be both a great tool for promotion, networking and sales… not to mention that it's nice to be able to help other aspiring creators. After all, it wasn't that long ago that you yourself were attending panels looking for advice on how to "break in" and start making comics.

You get to set up near your dear friends Victor Dandridge and Steve Bryant at the show, making it an automatic "win"… but of course you won't get to talk to them nearly as much as you would like. This is the cost of doing business, though, and you remind yourself that you are living the dream along with a bunch of other really great people whom you both like and respect.

Leaving the show, you kick yourself for not buying an amazing looking "Creature From the Black Lagoon" bank you saw on your cursory walk-around before the show started. Drat.

After a few days back at the day job, it's time to set up at Motor City Comic Con in Novi, Michigan. Last year when you did three shows in three straight weekends, you were almost dead at this point, but you're still feeling pretty good at this point due to how well you are pacing yourself both at the conventions as well as during the week. Even though you're falling a bit behind on your self-imposed writing deadlines, you can pat yourself on the back for getting so far ahead on things before you started this tour.

They billed you as a "Guest" at the Novi show, which is a really big deal since this is the first comic convention you ever attended as a teenager. You set up next to an old convention pal, Chris Moreno, and you soon realize you haven't been set up next to him since your first year of doing conventions over five years ago.

You take a moment to reflect on how much you've grown as a creator in the past five years. It's a lot.

Motor City Comic Con sets a new attendance record the first time you are there as a guest. Of course, you later tell your parents and friends that you're the reason this happened, neglecting to mention that both Stan Lee and Norman Reedus were also there and may have had something to do with the approximately 30,000 people flooding the con floor over the three days of the show.

Your fears about not selling a lot of comics at this convention – since you've never been to this show before and as such are an "unknown factor" to a lot of the attendees – prove unfounded, much to your pleasant surprise.

Yet again you force yourself to go to "bar con" every night despite the fact that you are completely exhausted and would much rather go back to your room and decompress. On one such night you will almost make the mistake of stopping Simon Bisley from claiming his own drink that you agreed to watch for him, which would have most likely proven to be the worst mistake in the history of mistakes, ever.

You host another panel aimed at helping aspiring creators at Motor City Comic Con , and in doing so meet more wonderful people and realize how great of a feeling it is to be able to help give aspiring creators advice about achieving their dreams of becoming professional comic creators, too.

You conduct several short podcast interviews at your table with great people like the Drunk On Comics crew, and they only mildly harass you about the fact that you only drink "Shirley Temples" and "Faygo Rock & Rye."

Despite their playful ribbing, you realize that you wouldn't be able to keep up a schedule like this – at least not as effectively as you have been – if you were a drinker.

Besides, since you're in Michigan – the home of Faygo pop (it's not called "soda" in Michigan!) – several wonderful readers who knew you'd be at the show sneak some bottled "Rock and Rye" in for you because they are wonderful and love you and want you to be happy.

You feel very, very sorry for the people who don't know the Heavenly flavor of "Rock and Rye," too.

You see another one of those "Creature From the Black Lagoon" banks at a table on your way to the rest room before the show starts on Saturday, but by the time you make it back to the table it's gone and you curse under your breath about your pitiful need to urinate so badly that you couldn't stop to buy it as soon as you saw it.

By Saturday night your voice goes out again, and when you get to your hotel room you collapse on the bed, fully dressed, only to wake up in the morning above the sheets in a dress shirt and slacks… but you don't care because you're living the dream.

After a successful Sunday at the convention you say your good-byes to friends old and new and return to the "real world" for a few more days, desperately trying to catch up on your work and emails before heading to Traverse City, Michigan for Cherry Capital Con over Memorial Day Weekend.

It's tough to know that you can't spend the holiday weekend at the annual holiday barbeque with your grandparents, but you have to remind yourself yet again that this is the cost of doing business and that, yes, you really are living the dream.

You have to laugh to yourself about how much you tell yourself that these days – even five years ago you never thought you'd have these types of "problems."

Cherry Capital Con is one of those shows you've heard good things about from a lot of your peers for a while now, and you quickly learn that both the hype and the praise is well-deserved. The promoters are fantastic to the guests, the attendees are all there to support creators and buy new comics, and the city itself is beautiful and classy all the way around.

During Saturday morning's walk-around the con floor before the doors open, you find another one of those "Creature From the Black Lagoon" sculpted banks that has eluded you for the last two weeks, and buy it on the spot this time. You also find a copy of the Creepshow comic (illustrated by the mighty Bernie Wrightson) that you've been trying to find at a show since you were a teenager and – unbelievably – snag it for less than $10.

That's two more items off your ever-shrinking bucket-list.

Saturday afternoon you host your third panel in three weeks, yet again allowing you to gain new readers, sell more books, and help give more aspiring professionals hope.

On Saturday night artist Ryan Stegman – a long-time acquaintance and former studio mate from your Golden Goat Studios days – will try to goad you and The Manhattan Project's artist Nick Pitarra into arm-wrestling each other, pitting his oak-tree-sized biceps against your martial-arts-sculpted-arms. Luckily for both of you – and the table in the center of the room – you mutually agree to not do so.

This time.

You also squeeze in more time to have some Shirley Temples with good friends, of course, and initiate one more member into the club.

On Sunday you get a surprise visit from Seth Damoose, who just so happened to be in that part of the state for the day and decided to swing by. You get to have dinner with him and his family that night, and meet his way-too-cute-for-her-own-good baby daughter in person for the first time.

By Sunday afternoon you've sold out of almost everything you have left, making one particular young man happy that he's able to talk his father into letting him get the last copy of Nightmare World Volume One.

You will also officially become known as "Awesome Sauce" in Traverese City, Michigan by not only the promoters and the attendees as well a genuine authority on such matters:

By the time the weekend is over you realize that you will have eaten every meal with friends from the convention and spend every evening at the after-hours party socializing, networking, and/or forging new friendships.

You are thankful that Monday is a holiday, and upon finally getting home you will spend the whole day – and night – in bed recovering.

The following weekend your longtime artistic collaborator Josh Ross – with whom you've worked to create more comics than with anyone else to date – visits you for two days while he and his family are making a cross-country drive. You finally get to meet his baby daughter for the first time, too, and give her the stuffed "Creature From the Black Lagoon" doll that you've been saving for her for months.

After all, you know how important it is to start kids young in regards to gaining an appreciation for the horror movie classics.

Before Josh leaves town the two of you go get ice cream together, of course.

One week after he leaves, your dear high school friend – and video game concept artist – and Nightmare World graphic novel series cover artist – Kristen Perry comes to town to visit you, and you reminisce with her about how, when you two were in high school together almost a quarter of a century ago (already?), the two of you agreed that if you ever followed through with your dream to write books and/or comics that she would illustrate the covers… and how amazing is it that this is now the reality you both live in.

Naturally, you get ice cream with her too. It's what you do.

After too few meals together and memory shared with mutual friends she leaves town again… and then… nothing.

Not for a while, at least.

This gives you time to reflect on the last seven weeks you've spent… wait for it… living the dream.

The last seven weeks have been very busy and very challenging… but also very rewarding… and you realize you're now having the experiences you are – the conventions, the travelling, the friends, the selling of your books to enthusiastic readers old and new – because even when the going got tough, you kept going.

Unlike so many other people who talked about wanting to make comics but never made a series go at it, you committed yourself to the research, work, and sacrifice necessary to make it happen.

Again, it wasn't always easy for you, and there were plenty of times that you wanted to quit… but you kept going even though it cost you a lot of time and money up front to get to this point, years in your future, where you're successfully conducting mini-tours (if five weekends of shows and signings in a row can even still be called "mini") and coming out of the experience with more money in your bank account than when you started… even if it's only a little bit more when all is said and done.

In this future that's waiting for you (be it two years or ten years from now) you will have earned the friendship and respect of many of your peers and professional idols, you will have a strong and ever-growing readership, and you will even be making a small (but noticeable) profit on the comic books you've written and now tirelessly promote.

Editors and publishers will even start approaching you about working for them writing and creating comics.

Take a moment to think about this – all of this – in your darkest moments when it seems like you're never going to get anywhere with your desire to write and/or create comic books on a professional level.

Because if you stick with it – if you truly stick with it – these are the types of things that can start to happen to you.

Even if they don't, though, and even if, fifteen years from now, you're still barely scraping by with your creator-owned comics and only attending a few shows a year because that's all you can afford…

Well, really, that's OK too.

Because you're doing it.

Even if it's on a small scale, you, my friend, are living the dream.

Whatever your degree of success, though, you should take the time to enjoy it.

After all, you'll have earned it.

***

QUESTION: What's your favorite comic book convention that you attend every year – as a professional or as a fan – and why?

IN TWO WEEKS: Write or Wrong #76: will talk about Man of Steel, and what approach to (and success of) the movie means to you, the aspiring comic book writer/creator. It's probably not what you think, though…

Dirk Manning is the writer/creator of the Nightmare World trilogy of graphic novels and the upcoming Love Stories (To Die For) one-shot flip-book (from Image Comics/Shadowline – all available to order from your local comic shop) and Write or Wrong: A Writer's Guide to Creating Comics (from Transfuzion Publishing – available exclusively through Amazon.com either in-print of via Kindle). He has some other cool comic projects coming out soon, too… so stay tuned for details on that! Along with the aforementioned comic-related work, he has also written several short films for BlackBox TV. Dirk lives on the Internet and can usually be found lurking around Facebook, Twitter and even his own website www.DirkManning.com on a fairly regular basis… when he's not busy writing, of course. Feel free to follow him at one or all such locations if you're into that sort of thing. Cthulhu is his homeboy.

Enjoyed this? Please share on social media!

Stay up-to-date and support the site by following Bleeding Cool on Google News today!