Comics and Why I Draw Them

When people ask me what I want to do with my Illustration degree after college, I hesitate to answer. Only recently have I even begun answering honestly. Initially, whenever I was asked, I would give the vague answer of, "Oh, you know, like....children's books. And stuff." Eventually, I got tired of this and just said, "I don't know." Both times, I sounded just like every other hapless art student out there, and it drove me crazy.

Funny thing is, I've known what I've wanted to do as a career since...well, before college. I didn't fully acknowledge it until recently, but it's been on my mind since high school.

So, in answer to your question, Person I Don't Know, this is what I want to do with my illustration degree: I want to do comics.

NO, stop. I know what you're thinking.


(property of DC comics)

"Seriously? This is what you, a 22-year-old Mormon girl, wants to do with her life? Draw heavily muscled men and big-boobed women in spandex? Seriously?"

Um. No. No, that's not what I want to do at all.

"So...you wanna do those weird Japanese comics, then?"


(property of Mabinogi and whoever the heck owns it)

.....

Nope.

Okay, let me just say: I'm not totally bashing the superhero comics nor the anime/manga industry. While some of it is incredibly silly and occasionally supremely outrageous -


(property of DC, much to their shame)

(Seriously, what even is this)

-there are many good things to be found there, and many gems to be found. For example: what originally got me into comics was watching Pokemon. It is a show with many faults, but still managed to be very popular and for good reason. And, if nothing else, it got me wanting to draw people throwing things at each other with intense expressions on their faces.

This would be the place where I would put one of my childhood Pokemon fan drawings. Unfortunately, they have all been burned and the ashes have been fed to our goats. 

That's where it all started, really. I discovered that shows like that could be found in comic form, known as "manga". I hooked onto the genre with a vengeance. To clarify: I love books of all kinds. Both with just words and with pictures. I am an avid reader of both. Comics just hit a cord with me. To me, it was another amazing way of telling stories.

 As I got older, I searched the library for comics to read, which were in depressingly short supply, being seen as the bane of proper literature and thus not conducive to a growing child's education. Or something like that. BUT there were still some manga books that were sneaked in there, and one in particular really grabbed me:



(property of Tokyopop and Natsuki Takaya. Wow, There are  lot of pictures I'm putting in this post.)

I know, Fruits Basket doesn't look like anything special. To the untrained eye, it looks like every other super-girly manga comic whatever book out there. And to be fair, there are times when it kind of is.

But for the most part, I found it to be really engaging and well-written. The story could get schmaltzy and downright stupid at times, but it was all in good fun, and primarily to lighten the mood of the difficult situations going on the background. Because behind the cutesy style, there's a deeper, considerably more somber story, one that I really found myself identifying with. Each character had depth - their own struggles and faults. Not even the supposed villain of the story was left out - behind Akito's dominating and manipulative personality, we discover a life filled with disappointments and pain, of trying to live up to people's expectations and being stretched beyond the breaking point. In reading these books, you would find yourself heartily disliking/hating a character, only to discover their story and the reasons for them being the way they are, and you couldn't help but feel for them. I mean, sure, they still weren't likeable, but the point was, you now knew why they weren't likeable. And that made them much more interesting, and you much more invested in seeing how they might change and become better. And no matter how schmaltzy or silly it got, you could see real-life struggles being represented, in the most gentle and non-judgmental manner. It never downplayed or made light of these struggles. Reading these books during a difficult time in my own life, the story had a profound impact on me. And thinking back on it, it still does. While the super-sweet and girly style sometimes rubs me the wrong way, I can't deny that the writing and characters made me feel like I was getting a hug after a good cry.

That's what makes a truly good book, comic or otherwise - that impact. Truly reaching someone with a story, making them feel something so strong that it follows them for the rest of their life. That's what Fruits Basket, the Myst games, Dune, Harry Potter and many other books, games and movies have done for me. And it was after reading Fruits Basket, in particular that I found myself longing to create comics of my own - ones that created that same feeling. I wanted to write books, too, but found myself unable to express what I was really wanting to say through words. I just didn't have the vocabulary to describe what could be summed up in one look. And while there are many other authors out there who are far more talented than I am and so are able to express such things very well in that way (all of my siblings, for example), I found that I was able to express my feelings and my perspective best through pictures.

This was done for a class, but it captured a feeling that I've always had difficulty expressing in words. I guess the best way to describe it....wandering? Having no destination? Simply walking forward? I don't know. That's what the pictures are for.

Anyways, it really was manga - and even superhero comics, to some degree - that first showed me the possibility of comics. Unfortunately, as I progressed and learned more about the industry involved, I found myself becoming disillusioned with the limitations presented. I had stories I wanted to write, but I know that with such a market, no one would want to read them. And while I'm not doing this for fame or fortune or anything (any artist who does is an idiot), I don't just write comics for me to read. So I put my ambitions on a shelf for a while, and sort of drifted around, trying to find a use for them.

It was around that time that I discovered webcomics. I'm not sure how or when I read my first webcomic, but I do recall thinking, "What, this is free? And it's online? And I can read all of it? For free?" (I was sincerely impressed by the "free" thing). Through that one webcomic, I was directed to several others, and from them to several more, and so my obsession began. At the same time, I also discovered some amazing printed comics - officially labeled "graphic novels" - that went outside the box that had been built around "traditional" comics and manga.

Examples: my absolute favorite of the printed comics (and still one of my absolute favorites to this day) was a big fantasy fairy-tale comic called Castle Waiting. 



Art is amazing. Story(ies) are amazing. Awesome sense of humor. Go read it.

In the webcomic department, I was blown away by the works of Der-Shing Helmer in The Meek (there is nudity in it. So, you know...be careful.), Tom Siddell's Gunnerkrigg Court, Michael Sexton's Everblue, Evan Dahm's Rice Boy.......it's a very, very long list.








So, so many comics. And all of them very unique.

See, this is what I want to do. I want to do comics. And I want to do my comics.

Am I going to be poor? Probably. Am I going to need a side-job? For a while, probably. And it just goes to show that I know this is the right path for me when I can honestly say that I can't imagine anything better for a living.

Thanks for reading.

The Deep, Prologue

So. I wrote the firstish part of my script for my webcomic. Which turned out being more like a long-form novel. But it reads easier that way in my mind, so we'll see how this goes. Anyway. 

This is the basic storyline for a webcomic project I am working on. Feedback is appreciated. Title is not final yet. Thank goodness. 

Prologue

Once upon a time, I was destined for great things. That's what the magi always told me, anyway. Growing up in a society like mine, that's high praise. I had the talent, the drive, and most importantly, the backing for it. 

And right now, I'm throwing it all away. 

I wake up before the call for morning devotions - long before anyone else is awake. I pick up my pack from where I stashed it - two days ago under my bed - get dressed, and place the note I've carefully written and addressed to my brother on my desk. I stop and look at it for a moment. I wrote and re-wrote and re-re-wrote that letter so many times, and I still feel like it isn't enough. Would it ever be enough, I wonder? He'd probably be angry no matter what I wrote anyway. Marxa isn't the forgiving type. Say what you will about his brilliance, but the man holds hefty grudges.

I  look away from the note finally, giving in. Someday, I tell myself. Someday, he'll understand. Maybe. I hope. 

I open the door, peering outside before sneaking quietly into the corridor. No one's out, just as I expected, but you can never be too careful with magi. 

A few hallways and a couple of sets of stairs later, I'm at the exit - the back door of the kitchens. The door is locked, of course, but it's a small problem. Drawing a deep breath, I purse my lips and blow into the keyhole - as high-pitched a whistle as I can safely perform. The lock clicks, and the door swings open soundlessly for me. 

Child's play. Good thing it isn't the magi's enchantments I'm dealing with here. I'd have a harder time keeping quiet then. 

I go out, closing the door behind me. The cold night air stings my face. It's been a while since I've been outside, and my body is regretting it. I  cough, my lungs barely able to choke down the icy air, and finally pull my scarf over my face. A little better. I go down the steps, taking great care not to slip on the ice. I look up at the colossal mountain range that looms over my home, and my stomach twists. This is a terrible idea, I tell myself. I don't need to go now, do I? I can wait until spring. I wouldn't freeze to death, at least. 

A quiet voice speaks in my mind right then. 

Are you coming? 

The memory freezes me in my tracks.

I can't wait. I know I can't wait. An involuntary groan makes its way past my lips. 

Yes. Wait for me. 

With one last look at the home I had known for the past twelve years, I start my slow, shambling way down the path, up towards the mountain. 

I know exactly where to go. I've walked these paths many times before, looking for a break from studying, occasionally running away from Magus Corrin, my tutor. Memories. 

I trek the familiar trail, carefully make my way through the undergrowth and rubble. Long ago, this was a well-tread trade road. Now, it barely passes for a deer trail. All the better. No one would think to come looking for me this way. 

Seriously, they wouldn't. No one, in the one thousand years my homeland has existed, could ever imagine that I could be going where I'm going right now. They'll look in all the wrong places. They'll never find me. They'll have no idea of where to look. It's perfect. And absolutely, completely terrifying. 

I come to a rock face, covered in old vines and moss and leaves and other various bits of tree dandruff. I look around, making sure I'm in the right place. Yes, I see the stack of rocks I made last time, right by that twiggy old tree. I run my hand along the stone, slowly walking forward. Suddenly, my fingers make contact with a sudden, unnatural groove. I brush off the relatively recent coating of old leaves, revealing a strange, spiral-shaped symbol carved into the rock. I place both hands on it, close my eyes, and take a deep breath. 

I have no idea if this will actually work. A part of me - a big part - is hoping that it won't. Then, I could go back to my room, go back to sleep, and then go back to work tomorrow. Pretend nothing had happened. I'd just had a sleepless night. Maybe Corrin would actually relent and give me a break. The candidate exams were finished, after all. 

Are you coming? 

I sigh, resting my forehead on the rough stone. 

Of course. 

Softly, my lips almost touching the carved symbol, I whisper, "Let me out." 

I feel the energy channeling up my legs and through my arms into the stone, filling my chest with a strong, exhilarating hum. The stone seems to wait under my fingers, considering.

Then, a crack appears in the middle of the spiral symbol. It goes along the spiral's line, and extends out. I step back. The stone seems to disappear along the crack, and soon a doorway appears, a crude circle suddenly cut out of the rock face. 

I stand there staring for a moment. I can't believe it actually worked.

There are no more excuses. There is nothing holding me back. And right now, I sincerely wish that there was.

I take a deep breath, and start walking forward. I go inside the mountain, the sudden deadening of the air a welcome reprieve from the sharp bite of winter outside. 

As I go in, the doorway silently closes, and I am left in darkness. 

No way left to go but forward. 

After a Long Absence

Journals, diaries and blogs. They have never been my "thing". I mean, as a missionary I was surprisingly diligent about my journal because, let's be honest, I had a lot of things I needed to write about for the sake of my sanity. Real Life, however, is completely different jar of pickles. 

I'm trying to be better, though. I think I've said that a million trillion times in as many blog/journal entries, but goshdarnit I mean it this time. Maybe. Hopefully. We'll see.

I am ridiculously diligent with my sketchbook. Mostly during Russian class. The amount of Russian cursive notes scribbled by my webcomic sketches is testament to that. 

You might be wondering why I'm rambling. The answer is, I'm not entirely sure. I guess this is all leading to me saying that I will, for sure, be trying to update this blog on at least a weekly basis. Or something like that. My plan: I need to get more attention to my artwork, and this blog needs more polishing in that regard. Also, I want to post my scripts/storyboards/concept art for my webcomic project, which has been lurking in the shadows for far too long. Since it's mostly my family and friends that read this, I feel safe doing that, but I need to branch out a bit. We'll see how this goes (i.e. if I actually remember any of this.)

Anyways. To end this rambling, here's a drawing I did. 

Yes, that is my face. Because I am just that sexy.