BACK TO ARCHIVES

In The Service Of Story

Barb Lien-Cooper

I recently realized that I haven't bought a superhero comic in a long time.

What prompted this realization: I was recently at a pre-Con party for a small convention in Austin, Texas called STAPLE. (Ironic that I be on a WEBcomics panel for a thing entitled 'STAPLE'.) It was weird how many people at both the party and the Convention had heard of my comic Gun Street Girl and sort of treated me like a celebrity or something. As a WRITER. I've been to a lot of Cons where I've been treated very nicely by fans and creators, but as a journalist. Here I was, being treated as a CREATOR of comics instead of someone WRITING about them. It didn't give me a complex or anything. I was just glad that people enjoyed Gun Street Girl so much. But, it's a slightly different experience being feted as the person who's producing a comic instead of writing about them.

Let me express right now my heartfelt gratitude to Austin Books, Staple, the fine creators I met at the Con, and those who attended. You made me feel right at home.

Anyway, the pre-Con party took place at Austin Books, which is a rocking comic book store in Texas, with a wide selection of mainstream, indie, and Eastern/manga comics. I started talking to other creators at the party about our favorite superhero comics, as we were looking at the wall of them in the store. We're talking a Great-Wall-of-China-size wall, folks. One of the creators was Drew Edwards who writes an imaginative web comic called Halloween Man. Check it out if you get the chance (http://halloweenman.com/main.html).

Two comics that stood out with particular fondness were Keith Giffen's Justice League and Grant Morrison's Doom Patrol. I started realizing that the reason we all liked these comics is that we identified with the characters and the characterization in the books. We remembered dialogue and situations that the characters had to deal with. At one point, I paged through a Doom Patrol graphic novel. I got choked up. A lump came to my throat, remembering how much of an influence this comic had on some of my comics writing.

The story I'd been paging through was called "The House that Jack Built." I particularly liked the imagination of the tale, its wildness, the sense that anything could happen to characters that I cared about. I remembered how The House... story had influenced the Gun Street Girl story "Dreams of Children," even down to the reference to one of the Jam's songs in the title (Morrison used a lot of song lyrics as Doom Patrol story titles). Most people thought Fables was my story's inspiration, but they were wrong. I just wanted to do something as wild and beautiful as those Doom Patrol stories I loved so much, out of gratitude to writers like Grant Morrison for really using their imaginations to write great comics. I looked at how intelligent and delightful the writing in Doom Patrol was and remembered how much of a trip the best comics of their era were back then...

I had to leave the room for awhile because I was on the verge of tears.

I was downright weepy for what the superhero genre had lost. Part of it was the imagination in the comics... imagination I find sorely lacking from most superhero comics now. And part of it was how we've seemingly lost an industry willing to take chances on wildly imaginative and innovative works by virtually unknown authors, such as the classic DC mature/Vertigo authors were back then---works that took genuine risks on publishers' parts because they weren't the most obviously commercial of prospects. But, a large part of it came down to how much I missed the characters in Doom Patrol...and how much I missed characterization in superhero comics, in general.

I realized too that one shouldn't put down the so-called superhero zombies that buy superhero comics because they're not buying superhero comics only because they're some kind of mindless cattle. They buy superhero comics because once upon a time these characters were so well-characterized by authors that the buyers BONDED with those characters. They still buy the comics because they still want these characters and how well they were once characterized.

It's not that I've grown to dislike the genre of superheroes per se. I was raised on superheroes and I still remember a lot of superhero comics with a great fondness. It's also NOT that I've grown up beyond the genre. I miss superhero comics. But, I need excellent ones or I'm going to read something else.

Then, what IS it?

Well, it's like this---I can't identify with them any more. Oh, not for the reason you'd think---that I can't identify with powered heroes. I can as long as, and this is the big proviso, they act like human beings. If I can see a human being inside the costume, I can identify. I sometimes think that the reason so many people identify with Spider-Man is that we can still see Peter Parker inside that costume. He doesn't leave his life issues at the door when he puts on the costume. There's not a big change psychologically into Spider-Man. Sure, he has more confidence inside the costume, as well as the fact he quips more when he's Spider-Man, but I see that as a kind of psychological liberation he feels inside the costume instead of a change, exactly.

But, other superheroes seem to have NO ONE inside the costume. There are no longer secret identities for a lot of these folks, which makes it harder to see inside the costumes. But, even heroes that never per se HAD secret identities at least used to ACT like humans, with real life identity issues and self-esteem issues. While one can groan a bit at the Claremont-speak of classic X-Men comics, one can at least appreciate how the characters carried around identity issues concerning being outsiders in a world that doesn't accept them. We saw their thoughts about their conditions. Rogue's isolation at never being able to touch another human being. Wolverine's anger at not completely knowing his origins or how to handle that anger amongst more conventionally human characters. Nightcrawler's Catholic guilt transformed into a devil-may-care attitude...

I guess I'm thinking of the X-Men because Marvel characters were the last ones I read, partly because they did have identities. I mean, I liked Morrison's New X-Men because, at its best, it was very much about the psychology and pop culture of the characters. I also liked The Ultimates because part of rebuilding the Avengers for him was dealing with the characters' reactions to their powers and being on a team. But these types of superhero comics are few and far between nowadays.

My sadness for superhero comics comes down to how fragile the bond between a reader and a character can be. Sure, you can tell a book is still supposed to be about Name-Your-Poison Man by the art, the villains, and the supporting characters drawn in them. But, do these things amount to the same thing as being the characters they empathized with in ages past?

Perhaps for some readers.

But, not for me.

So, what's happened to characterization? Licensing, perhaps. Too many books about the same characters, maybe. When characters have so many books, it means that little innovative or life-changing can happen to them because that might interfere with the continuity of the six to fifteen other comics they star in. Imagine how YOUR imagination would be hampered in regards to characterization if you had to check with every other author writing the character whenever you wanted to do something life changing to the character.

Which leads to how there's no such thing as really doing anything life changing to a character in comics any more. Oh, sure, things happen, people die...only to have the next author change everything. And perhaps characters can't really die because they aren't really anything but intellectual property to be licensed. I know, bringing back characters isn't a NEW thing. But, with the exceptions of Jason Todd's death and Barbara Gordon's wheelchair, I can't think of many life-changing events in comics that can't be redone in a blink of an eye.

Maybe some of the lack of characterization comes from the book hopping that even good authors have to do in order to keep their careers going forward like a shark. Imagine yourself a hungry young author. You're offered a comic you've never liked, a character you never cared about, a book you never understood the value of, maybe even a comic you've slagged off over the years. Do you say, screw career advancement, I don't think I can do this character justice? You just can't turn down jobs in this industry and expect a call back. So, you take the job and grind out product, but you look for the next job, hoping that someday you might hit upon a book you actually want to write. Like the Okies in Steinbeck's GRAPES OF WRATH, you go where the jobs are. You do it to survive, and to keep your families fed. I can't blame authors for doing so, but I can't help but feel that the industry's emphasis on the art of the pitch over the craft of the story must hurt the quality of comics that are being produced.

It could be that you just love a character to death but they tell you, "that's not how we're writing them in the continuity this season" or "Your ideas mustn't contradict how we've envisioned So-and-so Man right now" or "That goes against the movie or the TV show this character has." Such conditions also make it harder to find that joy of creation that good stories require. It disallows the unique creative vision you may have for that character.

I'm trying to remember what Karl Marx said about when the workers are separated from the means of production...how it causes alienation from the products themselves...I'm trying to form an analogy, but it's not coming together.

I guess I'm just saying it's hard for even the best, most passionate authors to care about some work for hire projects, no matter how much they like superheroes or how driven they are to write good stories, because so many comics do feel like they're JUST product. I understand, pop entertainment IS a business and comics are product. In order to survive, comic book stores and publishers must run their businesses AS businesses. But, THESE particular products also touch customers' lives in very personal and deep ways, which is why JUST product isn't good enough. There are too many people depending on great storytelling to give them less than the best product that the industry can. When great, well-characterized storytelling doesn't happen, the readers themselves slowly become alienated from the work.

I once heard a creator I don't know very well say that comics aren't about the writing or the writers, just about the art. He'd interned at some fairly big name companies and he found that the writing of comics was just supposed to be uniform, not individualized, because the story was just a placeholder for the art. Yeah, I understand. The art is the first point of sale for a comic. But, is it the only one? Isn't what keeps the audience coming back the amount of identification they have with the characters? And doesn't that come down to the quality of the writing?

Has ART become our little tin god in Occidental (i.e. Western, as in American) comics? Has it become the only reason for publishing comics, selling, or buying comics? Does looking good matter more than the quality of the stories, the quality of the plots, the quality of the characters? Have we stopped seeing the word NOVEL (not both definitions of "a work of fictional writing" AND "unique, innovative, different") in the phrase graphic novel? I know that some comic book fans defend movies that have little in the way of writing or characterization if a MOVIE "looks good", but has this situation extended to comics, too?

Obviously, I'm not saying good art isn't essential. I'm not saying that artists don't deserve all the praise and money that's coming to them. We can't have graphic novels without the GRAPHICS, obviously. I myself am working with some totally kick-ass artists such as Ryan Howe and Jimmy Bott. You'll be seeing the art Jimmy's doing on a mini-series I'm writing in a future column, just as soon as it's lettered. It looks very Avatar or Image, to tell the truth. It's shockingly good stuff. And Ryan does Gun Street Girl in a unique, humane, Steve Dillon meets Frank Quitely way that isn't just business as usual illustration---art that very much supports the kind of story I want to tell with the comic. I'm working with lots of talented artists such as Terry Parr, who does Halloween Man with Drew Edwards. So, I'm not putting down artists. I'm grateful to those who will work with Park and me to make our stories ready for an audience that deserves the best stories we can tell.

See, to me, all elements in a comic are there to serve the single purpose of supporting the story itself. Aren't you tired of truly great art holding down the fort for mediocre stories? Will the future of comics really be a LITERAL Nuff Said Eternal Skip Week of comics that say nothing but feature beautiful, wonderful, glorious art that substitutes for meager storytelling? Is that REALLY what the audience wants from mainstream comics?

Art is not the villain here. Art is better than ever, thank you so much, artists. But the emphasis on art OVER storytelling means that, by the process of natural comic book selection by conservative-minded publishers, stories that feature the most commercial art (i.e. art that looks most like whatever's currently selling) get published, regardless of the quality of the story itself. So, as the art gene becomes dominant, writing means less and less, when it SHOULD be equal to the art, to say the least. That causes a weakening of comics in general, as well as an inter-breeding that makes all comics tend to look alike, until one doesn't know what's worth buying any more.

This is no way to ensure the survival of the species.

Why should it all matter? Won't the zombies keep on coming back regardless of art or stories? Sure, they will. But, that's because comic book readers are LOYAL, not because they're stupid. I've talked to readers and they know what's what. They know when the characters they like aren't being written in ways they identify with. However, they keep buying the comics because of loyalty and initial bonding.

But, that bonding doesn't last forever if the characterization isn't there. All but the most loyal readers start feeling alienated from the characters they love if the writing isn't there. That alienation eats into their loyalty, their hopes that maybe things will get better with the next author or that maybe the current one will improve. And one day, to their great sadness, the comic starts being left on the shelf. The reader cuts down little by little, from 20 to 15, to 15 to 10, from 10 to 5, to only going in the stores every once in awhile...

Then they never go in the stores again.

In response to losing another maturing reader, we often hear that older readers are just not interested in comics any more, that they've grown up, that they're more interested in video games or what have you, that they have to spend their money on real life concerns...

When the truth usually is, they just feel alienated from the comics they still love.

So, we gotta get those kids into comics ASAP because we need to hook them on comics like comics are crack or something because the older readers drift away when they grow alienated from the product.

Or, we could try something else.

We could follow the manga model and write series with realistic characters that readers can continue to identify with page after page. We could make comics ABOUT characters again, about WRITING again, instead of JUST about the art. We could take publishing risks concerning new blood with good and different ideas instead of making it so a wanna-be author has to take the cruddy jobs in hopes of someday writing a decent comic. We could see comics as being about the fine art of storytelling. We could write and publish stories that stay with the audience, bonding them once again to the characters they love. We could respect the readership and...

It would require work, but the readers deserve the best at all times from their comics, their creators, their publishers, and their community.

Right now, manga is stealing our audiences because the creators and publishers have taken the type of risks I spoke of above. Manga caught the comics community looking back with nostalgia when we could have been and should have been looking forward to how we could write and publish stories that drew old and new audiences into reading comics. As a result, manga not only grabbed audiences that could have been ours (females, others who didn't traditionally read comics), manga comics are also slowly seducing away those traditional comic book fans who just can't identify with how many Occidental comics are produced and published any more.

As a result, more and more people like me, who want to support Occidental comics, put them down and pick up $50 worth of manga comics instead. We do so because want characterization-filled, well-written, solid, imaginative stories more than we want beautiful art and no story. We go for comics by publishers that do still care about the quality of the story itself over whether it "looks good" only. Or, we start looking even farther afield, to self-published comics, to smaller new imprints, to print on demand published comics, to downloadable comics, even to the World Wide Web. I read more web comics now than Occidental print comics, just for the imagination of the stories and convenience of getting comics delivered right to my computer screen. Sure, MOST web comics aren't burning up the computer lines yet in terms of audiences compared to print, but some are. In fact, Gun Street Girl's sales beat a lot of self-published comics. I'm very thankful to those critics and readers who have become my audience, believe me.

Still, web comics aren't a threat to the supremacy of Occidental print comics right now.

But, five years ago, neither was manga.

It doesn't have to be this way. Occidental print comics CAN get their audiences back if they publish stories that involve the readers again because the writing matters again. Unless there are big changes and innovations happening that I'm not aware of, the conservative "stay the course" model happening in comics right now (with only a "must make movie and television deals" wrinkle to proceedings) will probably prevail. However, stasis ISN'T static. With real challenges like manga, new ways of publishing, and even the web ready, willing, and able to take the type of risks that lure our audiences away the way the Pied Piper lured the children away from the village, "that's the way it is" happens to be a more risky game than TAKING a risk.

Sometimes, "business as usual" is a poor business decision...because there are others who WILL rise to the challenge of innovation.

Faint heart never won fair lady, as they say.