#052 - Information For Your Brain Hole (With Liz Suburbia)

It's a very special episode this week because it guest stars Liz Suburbia! Go check out her webcomic Sacred Heart, and follow her on Twitter and Tumblr. She unequivocally rocks. You should look at Super Cute, our own webcomic! Listen to our insane mutterings on Twitter. Email hideousenergy@gmail.com to make sure we read it while we're wearing our tweed jackets. Facebook lets you see the faces of everyone who likes both Hideous Energy and Super Cute. Fanoff treats us right, so we try to do the same to them. Tumblr sits in a frame. Comic Booked is a playground for comics. Go to iTunes and download all episodes of Hideous Energy!

Episode #052:
• Intro - We talk about weird stuff - surprise - before we talk about Discount Comic Book Services and how they love us for some reason.
• Topic Thunder - Guest starring Liz Suburbia! We talk about "Mad Max" and then about Do-It-Yourself comics and their role in the larger landscape of comics; piracy and whether it is the Apocalypse some people say it is; and yet again we have to discuss whether or not DC hates women. Seth Breedlove wrote an article we mention.
• You Should Read This - David selects "Planetary;" Austin picks "Lady Sabre & the Pirates of the Ineffable Aether;" and Liz Suburbia chooses "Finder."
• The Listen Bitches - Liz Suburbia picks "Tambourines-N-Thyme" by Nana Grizol; David picks "Is This It" by the Strokes; Austin picks "Creepin' Up the Backstairs" by The Fratellis.
• Outro - Ummmmm...


David Hopkins and Austin Wilson have made some awesome friends through this podcast, and Liz Suburbia is one of them. This show runs 1:45:48. Read our newest Super Cute strip, download all Hideous Energy episodes on iTunes.

The Do It Yourself Comic - Editing

I've gone through quite a few steps on the way to creating my own comic - concept, design, plotting, and scripting - and now that I have a finished script in hand, it's time to do something with it. Instead of starting in on the actual art process (see: design), I'm going to spend some time editing what I've written and see what changes.

I won't spend too much time on this since the process has a dual nature. While I was writing the script I edited out certain things that weren't working, almost always because of space. The comic I'm setting out to make is 16 pages, and you wouldn't think only six pages less than the traditional comic book would make too big of a difference, but it seemed like it did. This partially might've been because I had the story in my mind, and written down as a loose outline. Without seeing it in the context of comic book pages, where I would have to worry about pacing the dialogue along with the overall flow of the story, I wouldn't be able to see where I might need to make cuts. I'm sure some people might spend more time on the outlining, and get every piece as meticulously into place as possible, but I didn't want to get bogged down on what will be a very small story. This one-shot shouldn't take me months to outline, so I got the basic gist of the story down and went ahead.

One thing I ran into immediately was having enough time to give my readers a sense of who the main character is. I had all of these aspirations of showing a storyline unfolding with the main character, but also giving the reader a sense of who the secondary character is, and that quickly went out the window. My goal to show how anger can affect us got whittled down to one central act, and the main character became the sole focus. Another thing from the original outline that was changed was the timeline. I had it written that I would show the main character at work over the course of two days, but that was impossible because of the page count.

Movies sometimes utilize a technique known as a "jump cut," which I'm pretty sure was the product of the French New Wave, or so David tells me. It's a method that can work beautifully on-screen, allowing the filmmakers to show the passage of time in large or small chunks, and present a visually interesting change that will keep the viewer engaged. In comic books, however, it can sometimes be too jarring, and only work in conjunction with captions or dialogue explaining the new surroundings. I utilized a few jump cuts, and did so for a few reasons. First, I was working with a very limited amount of space to tell my story. I needed to set up the main character's life, both in and out of work, and I wanted to show him at home to give the readers some kind of comparison between how he acts when he's alone, and how he acts when he's with people (or one person in particular). Second, after I realized my 16 pages were quickly being eaten up by the script, I knew that using jump cuts would be an easy way to cut out certain chunks of narrative, and do so in a way that served the story.

One of the bad things about editing as you work is it takes longer to produce a final product, and definitely presents the possibility of getting wrapped up in making the work perfect before it's even finished. Normally when I'm writing something I'll worry about editing later, but since this is such a short comic, one I can finish and not worry about sequels or follow-up issues, I didn't worry about getting caught up in the editing.

Most likely after I go back to the script and look over it I'll see pacing problems, or maybe plot points that don't make sense. I will definitely see dialogue that could be better, and that will be the majority of what gets edited. I'm going to go into it with my editing weapons out. Murder your darlings.

-austin

The Do It Yourself Comic - Plotting

Here I am, working my way toward making a comic. I've gone through a couple of steps already, working on the concept of my book, as well as some preliminary design work regarding the art. It's all been a ton of fun, and I'm ready to get started on the next step in the process. I've said it before, but I'll reiterate it now: none of this is supposed to read as a How-To, but simply as a description of how one amateur does things.

Normally when I start writing what I hope will turn out as a comic, whether I have an artist attached or not, I begin with plotting. It wasn't always like this, but it's something I've gotten more and more comfortable with, and something I view as necessary to make sure I go into the actual writing as prepared as possible. At first it was hard, and felt pretty arduous, but after doing it consistently something weird happened. It stopped seeming like work, and started seeming like fun. Actually, sometimes it feels like I'm having more fun plotting than actually writing. That doesn't really matter in the end, because I can't really not do one or the other, not without making myself feel like shit.

The comic I'm trying to make is going to be 16 pages, a mini-comic that tells a story with a beginning and an end. Technically there will probably be a middle, but that might be kind of hard to plan for, so right now I'm plotting out the beginning and end. I want to try and present two characters in a way so the reader feels as if they know about them and their lives, and finds them intriguing, interesting, and provocative in some way. It's definitely a tall order for 16 pages wherein I introduce the characters while simultaneously trying to tell a story and end it satisfyingly.

I talked a little about what I have in mind during the concept stage, and I'll expand on that here. The idea I came up with for this mini evolved out of a two-page spread layout I had planned for a story I'm currently plotting for another book called "Ninjaville." I'd still like to use the layout for that comic, but that one's going to need an illustrator, a lot more time, and most likely some funding. For now I'll have to settle for using the idea within this mini, and having it filtered through my own abilities with photographs, light-boxing, digital editing, and print methods.

The layout would have 10 panels, with 6 running across the top (an even number to easily divide down the middle, with that bastard fold), one giant panel in the middle, and four panels running across the bottom (again, even). I want to follow a character walking through the top 6 panels, illustrating and laying out the art so the character's head/face isn't shown. The idea not to show the character's face is based on two things: first, I don't really want my face in this mini a bunch. It's partly a shyness/self-conscious thing, but it's also because I don't really want to be the star of a comic, I just want to write and create them. Second, I really like the idea of showing emotion using nothing but body language, particularly hands. Why the hell did I choose hands? That's part of the original layout; those top 6 panels following the character walking will have six smaller panels within them, framing the right hand of our protagonist. It will be clenched into a fist, and I want the readers' eyes to follow it just as closely as they follow his walking, maybe more so.

The concept of creeping anger, or having anger sneak up on you and take hold so completely it poisons your thoughts, actions, and emotions is intriguing to me. By putting the focus on that fist I'm letting the reader know that something is going to happen. I can either make it obvious, or not. I'm choosing to go the obvious route. This guy is heading somewhere to punch someone, and this has to come across with no facial expressions. It's going to have dialogue, all in narrative text boxes, but none of it is going to say anything like, "I'm going to punch him."

After I knew I wanted to incorporate that two-page spread, and play with the idea of a very sneaky anger, my head circled the idea, looked at all the angles and corners it could possibly go in. Focusing on that hand gave me the idea to do a comic that is largely based around nothing but hands. They are how we interact with the world on a daily basis. That particular thought sent me down a path that led me to the theme of giving and taking, both of which we do with our hands, including throwing punches. With a theme now - give and take - I thought about why this character wanted to punch the other character so badly. One of the things I came up with was a disgruntled employee. It isn't original, admittedly, but for a 16-page mini-comic I'm not planning on doing any follow-up issues to, I decided that was fine. Right now it's more about showing myself I can do this if I want to, and I am the only one who is going to stop me. Still though, I want the story to have something original, and plan on bringing that with my characterizations and layout.

My character is going to react to something so poorly that he believes punching his boss is the answer. Actually, he probably doesn't think about it at all. Once that anger takes hold things escalate quickly, and if he thinks anything it's a hazy mess of emotion. With the why in place I could focus more fully on the ending, which I'm not planning on being just a punch; I want to make the reader care that this person has punched someone else, and again, with 16 pages I'll have my work cut out for me.

One thing I've read from numerous editors, writers, and artists is that when pitching a comic it's important to completely explain the project, and not attempt to hold out on the ending or any surprises. You're not trying to have them experience the pitch exactly like the reader will experience the comic. I'm not pitching this comic though, so I can violate that rule. I'm not going to tell what the ending is, other than someone gets punched. I still want someone to read this eventually, so I'll hold onto at least one secret.

Knowing that I will be writing about anger, using hands to illustrate how we give and take from each other constantly and how that can maybe incite anger, I went from there. I would use myself as the character who does the punching, and cast a friend as the character who gets punched. Now I can start writing the script, which won't come out finished. It'll need editing and refining, and will most likely give me some ideas regarding layout that could potentially affect story as well.

The Do It Yourself Comic: The Design

After deciding to make a comic and thinking up a concept for what exactly the thing would contain and be about, I moved onto the next step. Since I'm going to compile the art myself by taking photographs and light-boxing them, I wanted to focus on the design before I got too far into scripting. In this case, "design" is sort of a loose term, since I'm referring to light-boxing photographs to produce pencils. I've messed around with light-boxing in the past, and was generally pretty happy with the results I came up with, but it'd been a while. It was possible I'd take some photos, sit down to light-box them, and realize it looked like garbage.

All the times in the past I've ever started working on a comic I've always started with the writing first, but that's because I haven't been involved in the illustration. Now, since I'm doing both, I was able to think of things somewhat differently, or at least in a slightly altered order. Although I haven't written any of the script yet there are a lot of images in my head, ideas for panel progression and storytelling mechanisms, and knowing some of this stuff definitely helped when I wanted to do some practice art. I really like thinking of how a page will be laid out, how to utilize the comic form to tell interesting stories, and visualization plays a pretty big role in my writing process.

I went out with my camera and my buddy named Emery Peck to take some photos. Some of the pictures were random, staged so I could practice with penciling in (tracing) details later, things like shadows, folds in clothing and so forth. Other pictures were reminiscent of sequences I am planning to write. There were a few concerns I had with my camera - mostly about utilizing continuous shooting to capture movement, and whether that would look more authentic than posing the "actors" - along with how close I would need to shoot in order to give myself high quality pictures, basically so I wouldn't be with a photo to light-box and end up trying to discern what the hell all the blurry blobs in the background were.

Here are two of the 56 pictures we took. I selected these because they presented people at two very different distances, and also in places with varied amounts of shadow and detail.

I took the pictures in color, then changed them to black and white afterwards on my laptop. I also altered the contrast, exposure, and definition to make the blacks darker. This makes it easier to find definition between objects when light-boxing. I'm still unsure if I'm planning on inking the pencils or not. I can definitely alter the pencils digitally, darkening them either in Photoshop or Illustrator, but inks tend to add another level of completion to pencils.

After altering the original photos I printed them both out on a single page of regular computer paper. Since I don't have a light box, and
don't have the money to buy one (or the materials to make one) I had to figure out some way to create a light box from what I have around the house. I took a drawing out of a picture frame, removed its cardboard back, and was left with a large pane of glass. Next, I took a table lamp from the living room, removed its shade and sat it on the floor. I sat with the pane of glass on my knees, and let the bare light bulb project its light up and through the glass. I laid the page with the printed photos down and taped it in place using Painter's Tape, the blue kind people usually use to make sure they don't accidentally paint on their wainscoting or carpet. Painter's Tape is made with less adhesive (or at least a less-aggressive adhesive), so you can pull it off without worrying about bringing whatever it's stuck to along. In this case it's going to be the art for the comic, so I don't have to worry about ruining a page because I accidentally tore the page in half or something.

Next, I laid a piece of plain computer paper over the photo page, and taped it in place as well. Someone once showed me a trick for keeping two sheets of paper flat against each other, and I did that here: I laid a ruler down, keeping the pages flush and allowing the maximum amount of detail to shine through from the photographs.

To "illustrate" I used a simple, cheap mechanical pencil. I had a fine tip Sharpie next to me, in case I wanted to try my hand at inking, but I skipped that for now. Here's what I came up with.

 I didn't get too deep into the details yet because I wanted to focus on the face in the first image and the shadows in the second. There is a lot of wood grain in that first photo, and a ton of bushes in the second, and I didn't want to spend too much time on these. I definitely don't want to "draw" in an intensely realistic style, and did a pretty loose trace in some parts. After doing this initial test with the light-boxing I'm confident I can achieve the style I'm looking for, and will be able to at least get the images I want. There's definitely further design work in the future, though, because I've got a few very specific ideas about layout, but I don't want to think too much of that just yet.

I'm definitely planning on drawing more of the backgrounds, but didn't do so here because these were just tests. I'm pleased with how the art turned out, so I can let my head move on to the next phase: scripting.

The Do It Yourself Comic: The Concept

So where to start? I'm going to make a comic. The way I think, the first step to making a comic is having an idea. A comic (or any art) might not reach creation without your brain putting together something you find interesting yourself, which plays into the oft-repeated "write what you know" guideline. True, you can in fact make a comic without having an idea first, but doing so is probably going to lead toward something that you don't find personally fulfilling, and might leave anyone who reads it pretty freaking bored. So yeah, idea time.

Ideas can come from anywhere, from any image, sound, or just random screwed up thought you might stumble across during your regular day. The one I'm working with deals with a few factors which directly relate to the creation of the book I'm going to put together, specifically the actual craft of illustration. I suck at drawing. I suck at drawing so badly I can't even classify what I do as drawing. So already I have a huge obstacle to overcome. If I can't draw, what kind of freaking comic am I going to be able to make? I am approaching this problem not unlike Robert Rodriguez did when he made his first film El Mariachi, which he wrote about in his book Rebel Without a Crew. Later that film and book (along with a film called Slacker, by Richard Linklater) helped inspire a dude named Kevin Smith write, direct, and star in Clerks. The basic idea Rodriguez presented was to make a list of things you have, and to write your script around those things. This is a dangerous way to create a story because you deal with the very real possibility of creating a shallow story based around objects which have little to no connection to one another, or even just a story that falls flat because it is devoid of character. You might only have a rolling pin and some stamps. Sure, it's possible to write a compelling story about those two objects, but you better be a freaking Story Magician if that's what you're working with.

In my case the idea of generating this list of objects to be used comes about because, yeah, I can't draw for shit. I'm left with a few options, which are: 1. Find someone to illustrate for me. This kind of conflicts with the whole idea of DIY, and will take longer (and cost more), so it's out; 2. Compile a comic using photographs. While this is definitely a viable option, it leaves me pretty cold. I've always found it hard to get into comics that are "illustrated" with photographs, and that right there is a bad sign when thinking about making one myself. So yeah, moving on; 3. Take photos and light box them to produce penciled art. True, this is technically still photographs, but my primitive brain sees the penciled art and thinks "comic," whereas when it sees photographs it thinks "photographs." It's a weird, neurotic thing, and one I could maybe delve into deeper, but I'd rather just make a comic. So I'm going to go with option number 3.

Which leads us back to the concept. Knowing I'm going to be "illustrating" it myself based off of pictures I take, my list has to contain some obvious materials:

• camera
• computer
• scanner
• light box
• pencils, pens, paper, all that jazz...

None of those concern story, though, right? So how do I arrive at the concept I want to make, using those tools? I like to start with things - either emotions, ideas, images, anything really - I find interesting. When I decided to go on this DIY comic journey, an idea popped into my head which would utilize things I had, while relying minimally on other people and objects. The concept evolved out of an idea I already had for a two-page spread within a story I am plotting called "Ninjaville." It revolves around anger, and how it can fester inside of us, and occasionally doing so without our knowledge. We might not even recognize our anger secretly forming, nursing itself, doubling and tripling until one day it comes rocketing out in some form. I liked that idea. It made me nod, so I went further.

The two-page spread I had in mind would deal specifically with one character's fist, and what happens when his anger gets the best of him. It's somewhat obvious, but that's something I can't let myself worry about at this stage. It could stall me, kill my momentum quickly, so I need to focus on my conviction that I can tell an interesting story using this concept, and one that will maybe be compelling to read. Also, showing anyone the process from concept to completion immediately lets them in on any secrets or surprises the story might have, so this is technically a little different than it would normally go.

Another roadblock I need to avoid - and this is from learning my lesson in the past, with other attempts - is to worry about the title later. I LOVE naming things. I freaking love it. I don't know why, but naming shit gives me such joy, so I have to be careful or I'll just sit around writing down potential titles.

So now what? I have to take my concept, which I'll sum up as "creeping anger," and create a story. Since I'm planning on writing, drawing, and even starring in this comic myself, I have to think about time. How much time do I have to do this? It isn't a strong enough concept to create anything more than a single issue, and that actually lends itself to the amount of time I'll be spending making the thing, as well. Also, I'm going to have to print the thing myself as well, most likely from a computer I own. This leads to an entire world of information I'll need, but right now I want to focus on the creation. There is always time for editing later - yet another lesson learned - and I know if I let myself wander too far away from the world I'm trying to create, I can most definitely get lost and be unable to find my way back there. One thing I know I'll have to keep in mind though is script length. Even though it's great to be artsy, and live in the moment while spinning around and letting my mind be free, I can't float off completely. I'm going to aim for writing a comprehensible story in 16 pages. More on that later, and how many pages of actual paper it'll translate into.

So here we go. I'm going to take the concept of creeping anger and how it can affect us, and see what my head comes up with.

- • -

Obviously this is all very subjective, and is one way to do things. I am absolutely in love with comics in almost every aspect. I love reading and hearing about process, and have mined various creators' own methods to come up with my own. This is just how I go about doing what I am trying to do. I'm not an expert, and will never ever claim to be. Later I'll post script pages, art samples while I'm refining my "illustration" process, and whatever relevant information/experience comes up.

Paying Too Much Attention: Doing It Yourself

There are a lot of ideas out there. People are thinking all the time, and it isn't always about whether their jeans are too saggy in the butt, or if their breath smells, or if maybe one eye is slightly bigger (or slightly squintier) than the other. Those are very real concerns, yes, and mostly because these Smell Factories called bodies carry our minds around all day and night. Eventually we learn to curb these worries, and think about something outside of ourselves, something Other. When that happens the possibilities are only limited by where we're willing to let our heads go.

My head has continually gone toward the land of fiction for a while now. It's a great big universe where anything can happen, and usually does. I could cut this up into little finer slices of existence, but seriously, it is just so huge that I would be putting too fine a point on it. Fiction allows us to describe our lives (individual or collective) by talking about ANYTHING.

Fiction isn't constrained to prose, and realistically it isn't even confined within the realm of the written word. I certainly don't think that all fiction is art, but that's the great thing, isn't it? The subjective nature of art allows all of us to see something different in whatever form we're enjoying; or hating, consuming, watching, reading, just pick a verb and enter it here and you are taking part in the freaking amazing world of art.

I'm not trying to figure out what is or isn't art. There is no definitive answer there, at least not one that isn't completely colored by opinion. What I'm thinking about is the idea I mentioned earlier, at the beginning of all this: the astronomical amount of ideas and the amount of people having them. Not everyone is concerned with fiction, though, so that original number (which really only exists as a symbol) can be decreased. Now we're dealing with a more manageable amount of thinkers. Still though, everyone who has thoughts about fiction does not have the desire to create more, so again, we can subtract. It's a smaller amount gone, however, because if you are a reader - specifically of comic books - the chances are somewhat high you'll want to create what you enjoy. I would never say the comic book world is filled with people aching to create the art they love, more so than any other artistic field, but it probably wouldn't be too hard to convince me.

I read comics. I want to make comics. More specifically, write them. I've been working at it for a while now, and the amount of people (fellow comic readers) I've met who have ideas for comics is large. If looked at one way, this means the odds of becoming a comic book writer (or artist, inker, letterer, editor, etc.) are constantly shifting, steadily closing in to suffocate. Another way to look at it is that with more ideas comes more yearning for creation. So if cut up into two very rigid categories, we're dealing with either being disheartened or inspired.

Those aren't the only two options, obviously. One of them is incredibly negative, and the other can easily come off as arrogant or pretentious. It's possible to avoid falling into these traps (I think doctors call them emotions), and go after what you want regardless of the bullshit known as "the odds." No one can stop you from making comics. People can hurt you, but they can help you too, and the latter is hard to remember occasionally. One place that made me realize I haven't tried hard enough to make comics was Kickstarter. It's an amazing place, a freaking portal of inspiration. I found a comic project on there which clicked my head-gears over into a configuration where the thought of "I'm going to do this" wasn't so hard to come by. I didn't decide to start a Kickstarter project, but I did decide that putting together a small comic is something I'm completely capable of, and immensely passionate about.

Even if I'm not getting paid to do it, I feel like I have to make comics. I replace all my worries about whether my jeans are the right shade of denim for my outfit with thoughts about comics. If I'm not making a comic of some kind, then I'm wasting my time. So I'm going to put together a comic, and document the process on here.  Maybe no one will see it, maybe I'll show it to everyone because I took something out of my head and made it into something. It might suck. It might be mediocre. It might even be good. But it will definitely be.