Posted on by michaelwconrad

DOUBLE WALKER/DARK HORSE

I’ve returned to this place to write something a bit more meaningful than a witless tweet about something I hold so dear. For those who have seen fit to click the link and read these words, I appreciate you very much. I know that time is a great commodity in this age of endless entertainment options, so the fact that you’ve squared away a few moments for this is meaningful. I’ll attempt to be brief as a thank you.

DOUBLE WALKER is in comic shops this week, and will be in bookstores in early January. If you’re unaware, DOUBLE WALKER is a psychological/folk horror graphic novel I wrote for Noah Bailey to illustrate. We did so in cooperation with ComiXology Originals, where the book has lived on that platform for well over a year since, and will remain available there for digital readers. Now you can purchase the actual print artifact of our baby thanks to the good people at Dark Horse Comics.

When DOUBLE WALKER came to me I was in a dark place. Honestly, I’m no stranger to darkness, but with the approach of the pandemic I was feeling pretty poorly about my future in comics. I knew nothing would stop me from making comics, but I was preparing myself to lose whatever momentum I believed I had been building in the lead up to the release of the second book Noah and I had made. TREMOR DOSE (currently available through both ComiXology and Dark Horse) was a big swing for us, our first collaboration, and ultimately a book we both learned a lot during. We really hoped to broaden the audience as we continued to grow as creators, and further pursue something that balances entertainment and art. 

Noah and I are fairly self aware creators. We know that what we do will not please everyone, and that our names were unlikely to attract sales on their own, but we were convinced that we had produced a work that captured something special. Upon its release DOUBLE WALKER didn’t disappoint, spending a good amount of time at the top of the best sellers on ComiXology.

Now we finally get to share our story with the folks who haven’t accessed it in its digital form, and to please the folks who prefer physical media. 

In the lead up to DOUBLE WALKER’s digital release, several people we respect deeply shared some words about the book. Maybe these quotes will inspire you to check the book out if you’re on the fence…

“With Double Walker, Noah Bailey and Michael W Conrad have crafted an eerie folk-horror fairy tale of the darkest sort, tying ancient superstitions about the fae with modern fears of guilt, loss, responsibility and failure. Beautiful and moody art and smart characterization make this something you need to check out as soon as possible.” Trevor Henderson (Horror Artist, Creator of Siren Head)

“A stinging, slow-creep horror comic where the chills rain like a highland downpour.” Patton Oswalt (Minor Threats., Writer, Comedian)

“I’ve always loved fairy tales that are as messed up and frightening as the old folklore. DOUBLE WALKER is an expert piece of comic book horror, with stunning art, and a deep humanity grounding the horror. Do not miss this book!” James Tynion IV (Batman, Department of Truth)

“A flawlessly crafted and unassuming mingling of energies. They have induced a world of neo-folk horror that pleases me to no end.” Skinner (Artist, Writer, Adult Swim)

With only a few days left of 2022, DOUBLE WALKER in print is perhaps my most important contribution to comics this year. I’m VERY proud of the work I have done for the variety of other publishers I was lucky enough to work with over the past year, not the least of which being DC where I co-wrote no less than 26+ full comics, as well as a number of shorts, back ups, and specials. Hell, 2022 saw the anthology, SUPERMAN RED AND BLUE get nominated for an Eisner, and that was my first solo effort for DC! All of this is huge, and counts so much, but with DOUBLE WALKER, Noah and I were able to operate without any oversight at all. It is purely us, a pure offering. Love it or hate it, that’s a Conrad/Bailey joint, with lovely lettering by Taylor Esposito and design work from Kyle Arends. 

We owe the people at Dark Horse so much for bringing this book to the shelves, particularly Daniel Chabon, who has been a champion of our work over there for quite some time. At ComiXology Originals, of course we owe Chip Mosher a major thanks for being the visionary willing to give our offbeat work a home, and to Bryce Gold for being there every step of the journey, and continuing to believe in our strange contributions to the line he now heads up.

I enter 2023 with the same degree of uncertainty that I have with every shifting year for quite some time now. I am coming to understand that this is simply my reality as a freelancer. I don’t know if publishers will continue to work with me. I don’t know if editors and creative teams trust in my ability to continue to tell stories worth investing in. I’d be lying if I said such concerns were irrelevant, but I remain committed more so now than ever before to the simple truth that I will neither stop, nor will I ask for permission to begin.

Here’s what seems certain for 2023:

-I will continue to co-write several projects for DC Comics, and I am always in pursuit of more work with them.

-X-O MANOWAR will debut in the spring, and will present a very different story than anything Becky and I have co-written to date. I think you’re gonna love it.

-I will continue to work with Noah, and several others on creator owned material.

-I will continue to seek homes for stories with a variety of publishers I respect.

-I will be putting in extra hours on screenwriting, and reapproaching novel ideas that seemed too daunting a year ago.

-I will make sure to completely produce and self publish at least one thing all on my own. This is a process I have a love/hate relationship with, but it’s an important reminder to myself. 

Naturally my capacity to achieve these things are largely shared with external actors, many of whom remain a bit mysterious to me, and some even seem confused about what I wish to do. I suspect this is a commonality among comic creators… I’m a poor salesman, I prefer to just commit to the work rather than figure out how to snakecharm someone into permitting me to do what I can do all on my own. I say that with little ego, I’m not proud of my deficits, but I can’t be ignorant of them either… Maybe my resolution should focus on that…

The point is, it’s currently 4:16AM and I have been unable to find sleep prior to typing this. I needed to get something out… To say thank you. I needed to express the underlying humanity and anxiety that’s so often unseen when consuming the stories I make. Ideally, you’ll show up because you know that when my name is on a book, it means that you enter into it with the understanding that I gave it my best. I wish to entertain you, to provide a place of controlled introspection, and dreaming, to allow both an escape and an embrace. My wish is to connect briefly through the pages, to share a moment.

Here’s to many more of these moments. Here’s to us. 2023 will, almost certainly, present great and terrible moments, let’s meet them as they come and find bliss whenever we can. 

Posted on by michaelwconrad

Sisyphus, The Stone, and The Hill

It feels pretty good to have the word out that Becky and I will be taking over writing the monthly Wonder Woman series as of issue 770. We’re really excited to be working on such an iconic character, one that in many ways is foundational to the entire DCU. This has been a flying leap for me, and for what it’s worth I’m gonna share my version of the story of how it came to pass. This is really just me looking out my own window, I’m not trying to offend or misrepresent anyone; so just keep in mind this stuff is all slanted through my perspective.

MARCH 2020- 

What a shit month. We had just done what turned out to be our only convention of the entire year (Richmond Galaxy Con). After this we were to shoot up to Portland for a few days and then up to Seattle for Emerald City, one of our favorite shows to do. 

At the end of 2019 I felt like I had a good head of steam with Tremor Dose making big noise at ComiXology Originals, our issue of Doom Patrol with its great reception, as well as the Tomb of Dracula short featured in Marvel’s Bizarre Adventures. I entered into 2020 with a game plan and was prepared to spend the first quarter of the year doing the dance with publishers in pursuit of more writing work. Some prospects were already in place, and it was time to lock them in.

Emerald City in particular was critical to this. I had scheduled meetings with a number of smaller publishers and was prepared to wow them with my big ideas and hopefully end up with something on the shelves with one or two of them. I scrambled through my contacts in the lead up to the show and had basically filled my downtime with plans of coffee meetings, dinners, and mid show sneak-aways to discuss what they want as a company and how I could be the person to do it.

You know where this is going.

Covid prevented all of that and damn near broke us all. The timing couldn’t have been worse. We didn’t do ECCC but we still managed to get to PDX where, still not realizing how bad shit was gonna get, we were able to see friends and meet with Image publisher Eric Stephenson. It was the last great trip we were to take together in 2020, and contributed heavily to my initial depression.

Everyone wants an Image book. Most don’t get the opportunity to sit across from the guy who can make it happen. I showed him some of my work and he seemed receptive, and we promised to follow up in the subsequent weeks… you know, the weeks where the world stopped turning, and the entire industry in question nearly died? The weeks during which we cloistered ourselves away in hopes of stopping the virus? Those weeks during which I personally lost several friends to the despair of it all… remember those weeks?

So the follow up didn’t exactly happen, it was very much a wait and see as the dust settled on the memory of the excitement that I once had. I had slipped back down the hill, and the distance between the late 2019 successes and my aspirations at the time grew long and felt invalid.

In effort to make this readable I’ll skip over the stuff that saved me. I’ve spoken about the real savior that came in the form of the work on Skeleton Crew for Cinder Cone Games, and pushing myself to write and draw a few comics on my own. These things are incredibly fulfilling but I knew that it wasn’t my future. I doubt anyone will ever hire me to write a game again (not for lack of quality, but more for lack of inroads in that industry) and that I may never develop an audience that wants to see my art on a consistent enough basis to live off of it. These projects were not long term solutions, but they were medicine for my broken outlook. These things saved me.

MARCH 2019-

We went to WonderCon without a table. Yes, they would have loved to have Becky be a big part of the show, but really we just went to hangout. Becky did a couple panels and maybe a signing, but we wanted to get to LA to visit the DC offices and to see friends. The trip was outstanding in many ways, we not only toured DC, but also BOOM!, and Humanoids. We got to connect with friends, run around haunted hotels, visit the DC archives (absolutely mental) and generally have a blast. At the convention we were able to bother creators and dig through the “old town” back issue bins in search of rare Conan editions. It was fun in a time when Covid wasn’t even a word.

I bring this up because this is where we bumped into this guy Jamie S. Rich. Here is where the story gets strange because on the off chance that Jamie reads this I’ll be mortified… but this is how it went…

At the end of the show we bumped into Cecil Castelluci who had been working on Batgirl with Jamie, the two were to meet at the hotel bar to chat and have a cheeky drink. She invited us along, moments later I was seated across from the (at the time) editor of the Bat Family of books at DC.

Now, I’m not TERRIBLE with these kinds of interactions, but I do get excited. This excitement often manifests as finding myself either speaking too much or too little. In this case I’m not sure exactly where I fell on that spectrum, but I don’t think I was exactly the most charming person Jamie had ever met.

Jamie is cool. He looks cool, acts cool, and oftentimes folks like that will throw me off, for the same reasons they might throw you off. Not only was this guy in a seat of power, but also he’s more charismatic, funny as hell, and most importantly he has NOTHING to prove. Meanwhile I’m stewing in juice hoping to make a good impression on this guy who holds the keys. I don’t know that he was aware that I’m a creator, and I wasn’t trying to pitch him on anything, but it would be a half truth to say I wasn’t looking for any opportunity to make my doals known. I kind of wish I was just like “Hey! I’m a comic creator and I’d love to connect later about some ideas I have!” This would have broken the tension and given him the opportunity to ignore any emails that might follow; like any good editor!

Anyway, I didn’t- Becky did mention it toward the end. She brought up our DC trip and how we lightweight pitched a XXXXXXXXXX book. She reminded him that our Doom Patrol book was initially run through him. He was cool about it, but as the bar time was coming to a close he picked up the tab. I insisted on paying my own way and he said something that haunted me for the next year. It was a VERY dry joke, and one that was so true I couldn’t help but feel stung by it.

“Nah, it’s cool man, ride those coattails!” He said it with a deadpan that had me ruminating on how I am perceived, and allowed me to sink even deeper into my fears of being seen as something other than a legitimate creator.

SOMEWHERE IN THE MIRE 2020

I was nearing the end of my work on Skeleton Crew when Becky came into the room and said that she had just gotten an email from DC. She had been asked to write a Midnighter thing for this even called Future State. I was stoked for her immediately, I love Midnighter. She then hit me with “They specifically asked if you’d like to co-write, they must have liked what we did with Doom Patrol!”

I didn’t believe her at first and asked to see the email, sure enough “they” did, and it had been Jamie S. Rich who had made the call and sent the email. I was flabbergasted, I thought he HATED me, or at very least saw me as some barnacle on the side of the SS CLoonan!

I knew what their gig was, my paranoia speaking to me saying “They’ve asked after you because they know she’s more likely to take the job to help Michael.” This machiavellian scheme may or may not be of my own imagining, but I didn’t care. I was getting another shot at DC during the height of Covid!

I immediately set to work crafting an idea that would allow us to explore our interests while bringing forth a Midnighter story worth reading. We created something wholly unexpected by the editors and I really believe that this is what brought what would follow. I was a bit aggressive in video conferences, polite, but I didn’t bother to hide my drive. When we chatted with the whole Superman team that Jamie was now shepherding, I was ecstatic to find that our ideas for Midnighter would inform the work of our peers. We created a big mess, and intentional mess, a mess that everyone seemed to want to contribute to.

After turning in those scripts we were hit with another offer.

“Would you two wanna tell a story about Wonder Woman wayyyyy in the future?”

This was a no brainer, it took us almost no time to submit our idea for Immortal Wonder Woman and I’m not playing when I say it’s an Eisner level book. Anyone who sleeps on this WILL be hearing about it and will be tracking it down. The only problem with Immortal is that it wasn’t enough! We fell in love with telling Diana stories and wanted more. Our editors Jamie, Brittany, and Bixie casually asked if we would like to tell more, so of course we said yes!

NOVEMBER 2020

We were asked to participate in CCXP Worlds, one of the biggest conventions in the… uh- worlds. Becky and I along with Jen Bartel, artist of Immortal Wonder Woman were to appear on a digital panel along with the other Wonder Woman teams to hype the Future State event. Moderated by Jamie himself, this would air in early December and serve to provide a bit of insight on what we had planned for Diana, Yara, and Nubia. Prior to starting the panel Jamie said that they would be announcing that Becky and I were the new writing team on Wonder Woman and that we should keep that quiet until the panel went live. I didn’t really understand the full extent of this in the moment.

It was only later that I realized what had been obvious to everyone but me… we were the writers of the Wonder Woman book. Like… the series… during the year she turns 80. We were there. I am part of the mythology now.

NOW 2020

I had him all wrong. In getting to know Jamie through our efforts to make cool comics I have discovered he is anything but rude. He IS  smart as a whip, and at times scary. He’s also kind and thoughtful, and someone who really is trying to make people feel at home in their professions and allowing talent to explore what they are capable of.You know, he might have meant it- the coattails thing, but it wouldn’t be untrue, but it isn’t really an insult. A coattail only lasts as long as the person riding it doesn’t ruin everything. From my position I was able to play a role in getting us going on an A List book at a premier publisher. We’ll see how you like Midnighter and Immortal Wonder Woman, after those I suspect that I’ll feel a little less like an imposter and more like who I am. A regular guy with a passion for telling stories.

Posted on by michaelwconrad

Bad Advice.

I have posts coming about Wonder Woman and Midnighter and all the excitement I have about those projects, but I figured it might be a good time to talk about something that has bothered me for years. I’m not going to include names because the players involved are insignificant. I am only able to see this now, because of the confidence afforded through the forward momentum of my writing. There were long stretches of time where stuff like what I’m about to share really bothered me. If anything I’d like to think that the pain that comes from striving has made me only less likely to push that pain along to others.

It was maybe 8 years ago, I was very early in my efforts to self publish comics and had formed a collective called Mystery School Comics Group. The purpose of the group was to create the illusion of legitimacy, to give myself and the others involved a sigil under which to build our resumes, and mostly because it pleased me to do so. Early on it was myself, my brother Winston (who designed much of the imagery still in use), along with our friends Justin McElroy and Jef Overn. We had others jump in and out, but really that was the roster. We all tried our hands at writing and drawing with varied results, but it was our enthusiasm that fueled the whole thing. While sales were never great we weren’t in the practice of keeping count, we were there for the passion of doing it.

Part of the fun, but also part of the struggle was getting accepted into conventions. Most of these charged a lot, but they were also very choosy about who they would allow to table. I remember sending countless applications and only hearing back from a select few. When we would do shows it was always a party. We would get a hotel room and make a whole thing out of it. Nothing nefarious, just a couple dudes trying to sell comics and zines, drinking too much at the hotel bar, and retiring to the hotel room to shared beds and bad reality tv. None of us had interest in much beyond sharing our work, checking out the work of others like us, and spending time doing something that was ultimately quite costly but fun. Between the tables, the room, the tab, and all the comics we would buy we would VERY rarely even break even, most often taking a loss. No one cared. We were happy.

Around this time there was this influential comics creator who was well known for hopping on a soapbox and telling everyone the RIGHT way to do things. He was in our orbit as he had expressed some interest in Justin’s work, and rightfully so, Justin is a beast. This creator in question once again undertook to deliver unsolicited advice on a thread that several of us were participating in on an indie creators group on social media. Someone outside of our group had lamented the high cost of tables at shows and was asking for advice as to how to deal with this. Several from my group chimed in about the value of collective investment in projects, understanding that loss is almost guaranteed, and how we go about feeling ok about what others might see as a something less than successful.

So this established creator pops onto the thread and basically is like “If you can’t make money at a con you shouldn’t do them.” This might seem like sane advice, but we took it a bit like “If you fall off of a skateboard while attempting a new trick, stop skateboarding.” We said as much, without any disrespect, and were met with a really aggressive response from the dude in question.

“Comics aren’t for everyone, if you can’t make money that’s saying something, it’s saying they aren’t any good. Good comics sell, bad ones don’t… this is tough for some people to understand. If you do a convention and can’t make money you might wanna look at doing something else with your time.” I’m not exaggerating, this is almost word for word what he wrote. I remember my brother being like “Yo, fuck that guy.” But we all made excuses for him, and defended his stance by reworking the message to feel less gross. It turns out my brother was just the only one among us who wasn’t starstruck by some passing interest from someone in the industry.

This guy turned out to be a real shit. A couple years later it became public knowledge that he was a fucking creep. While we were losing money at conventions, he was using some of those same places to harass women. While we were drinking budget beers in the budget inn, he was using the perception of authority he carried to manipulate and deceive. This information wouldn’t come out until years later, I wish we had known it at the time, it would have been easier to shrug off his dumb comments.

Anyway, we kept it up, but the damage had been done. We couldn’t shake the nagging self doubt he had inflicted on the group. We didn’t slow down because of what he said, but we weren’t exactly empowered by it either. When you’re striving toward a goal the LAST THING someone should do is suggest that you aren’t growing, and that the struggle isn’t worth it.

This kind of gatekeeping bullshit has been the bane of my creative life. It was like this in music, and to see it in comics as well is incredibly disappointing. Art and storytelling serve a lot of purposes for folks, for me at the time it was giving me a reason to dream. I was working in a very taxing field, I had stopped playing music (unable to find time with the kind of work I was doing) and comics were my escape. I found myself dreaming of some of the things I get to do now, and really that memory is so strong, and so close, I don’t see how anyone can get anywhere in comics and manage to forget the fight. Maybe it’s easier for folks who have an art style that immediately grabs the attention of publishers? Maybe this creator never had the kind of struggle we had? Or maybe he had supportive voices in his life rather than the flat disinterest or discouragement most of us face?

With my achievements sometimes I fantasize about telling off doubters from those times. I daydream of my work being celebrated in the faces of those who didn’t believe in me. I want them to know that I kick ass, and I want them to feel ashamed for missing that. Of course this is the wrong way to engage with growth as an artist, but I’d be lying if I claimed to never have thought such things. 

I temper this egotistical thinking by reminding myself that I’m extremely lucky. I have been granted access that few manage, I have been encouraged by more folks over the past few years than I have deserved, and maybe most of all I’m thankful that I am the kind of person who doesn’t give up easily. I’ve had more dark nights of the soul than I care to admit, and it has really added gas to the tank. In many ways I feel like these are the last days I will be able to work with the vigor required to get where I wanna go and I don’t want to miss my chance. The hardship reminds me that the stuff I get sore about is much closer to my dream than the previous concerns.

This all comes to mind when I see how folks engage online today. Things have become even more aggressive, dismissive, and rude by orders of magnitude. I see people take shots at peers for sport, and grind their heels into those “beneath” them. I see putting on airs of superiority that’s almost laughable, but not entirely, because I know for those on the receiving end it can be a real wound. I’ve been wounded before, and will be wounded again, seeing it happen to others sucks.

So I try to be kind and to share the very little I know. In truth there isn’t a huge gap between the most established folks in the comic industry and those losing money at shows. We’re all just making things and hoping they make others happy. 

Not long ago I offered advice to folks looking to self publish. I had 2 individuals take me up on it. One was not motivated, the other dismissed my advice by saying he “wanted to do it for real.” Two polar opposite ends of the equation, both completely understandable, both as right as they are wrong. The lesson was mine, I can’t show others the path, that’s for them to discover. Their path will be invisible to me, occulted by my own experience. I’ve found all I can do is not stand in anyone’s way, to welcome them to this world with stories of my own, and to hear theirs with unbiased ears.

We need each other, we always have. Maybe when we realize this people will be less concerned about status and more concerned about the responsibilities we often neglect in pursuit of feeling important.

Posted on by michaelwconrad

What do I know about immortality?

So here we are, a handful of days following the announcement that I will be part of the creative teams for DC Future State “Immortal Wonder Woman” as well as “Midnighter” and I wanted to share the story about how these things came to be and some reflections regarding them.

At the beginning of 2020, I, like many creators, felt like the future was mine to take. I was to attend several conventions, notably one of my favorites, ECCC in Seattle where I was to meet with a number of upstart publishers that are currently the source of many of your favorite books. I had my foot in the door to work on an IP that is super near and dear to my heart, and I was beginning to think I could wave my hand and make things happen. “Doom Patrol” and our “Tomb of Dracula” story in Marvel’s “Bizarre Adventures” seemed to have captured the imaginations of readers and “Tremor Dose” my OGN at ComiXology Originals was getting more than its share of attention. 2020 was mine to shape and define.

Covid fucked up those plans, as well as the plans of everyone I know. Everything shut down, doors swung closed, and the thing I had spent years of my life striving toward fell into a deep set relief on the wall I had battered myself against. I wasn’t back to square one, but this was a major wound that would take the better part of the year to heal from.

So, I tried to do the thing we all promised ourselves we would do. I made stuff. In the first two months of Covid I made two comics while working on a video game. I was really proud to have done those books but they made it very clear to me that while I had an audience, it wasn’t growing much at all. I spent too much time wondering how one develops and expands an audience. It remains a mystery to me, but I do know that it took a bit of a toll on me creatively. You see, I’m used to this kind of shit. I played music for many years and most of the bands I played with made it RIGHT THERE to the cusp of being something people were aware of. We worked with small labels, toured extensively, recorded out of our pocket, played with bands that would shape the face of music to come and yet… we were always too early or too late, or fate would pull our card and remove us from the equation.

Becky will tell you, I didn’t believe “Doom Patrol” was gonna happen, even after being paid. I’ve been so programmed for disappointment that I figured that surely something would kill the project before it ever made it to the stands. I feared Gerard would decide it didn’t work, or that the editors didn’t want to risk their name on someone like me. When word came that Young Animal and the rest of the imprints over at DC were gonna fold I was gutted. Months had passed and I was sure nothing would come of the work we had done. Thankfully it did happen and I was able to put one up in the win category. That issue of “Doom Patrol” will forever be something that I’m grateful for, it’s quite possibly the moment when I rediscovered my capacity to hope for the best.

I can’t say that hope is always a good thing. Conceptually it works, certainly for folks in dire situations hope is often a critical component to making it through. But sometimes hope will lead to expectation, and expectation is the keystone to entitlement. While I pride myself on being humble (like the most humble, wayyyyy more humble than you could even dream of… so humble it likely deserves an award or a yearly parade), like everyone else I feel like the work I do is often overlooked and marginalized. This leads to bitter feelings and an endless quest to feel seen. I had crossed over to a foul place of feeling like I was due greater attention and more opportunities. I say this in effort to be honest, knowing full well that this is a sickening way to be, but our secret truths are often repugnant and can only be discussed openly when we see how wrong we were.

Hope isn’t the bad guy, but it’s likely to bring along his good homie Ego to the party without asking if it’s cool. Ego will always bring his cousin Disappointment, who in turn will invite his brothers Bitterness and Grief. Before you know it they start bringing in more of their people and what was intended to be a small gathering of good folks turns into the kind of rager that requires the host to secretly call in the cops to break up. We never wanna see the cops, but we don’t want the responsibility of tempering our own feelings and expectations so we put it in the hands of someone else. Editors, publishers, people who should know who I am because I wrote a hell of an issue!

I felt like I was disappearing. I’ve repeated that a lot over the past few months, a kind of fucked up way of displacing the blame. I had gotten wrapped up in my own expectant glory and was gulping down my own cyanide laced Kool-Aid. I was dumb to do so, I had ignored finding balance and feeling gratitude and had lept into feeling due more.

I share this shame as if I was stomping about with big demands, which isn’t the case. These feelings were internalized and I conducted myself in a more idealized manner. I would share the truth about how blessed I felt, and withhold the parts about wanting more. Facing myself now I understand that this kind of thing is very human and very normal. We are all seekers, even with plenty we want more, an overabundance, and even then we will seek. This is a critical element of abuse and if you don’t have moments of reflection such as this you will never be charitable, understanding, and compassionate. You will become a hoarder of emotions and commodities. You will become a dragon nested on a mountain of ill gained wealth and feelings that have been so tamped down they have become crystalline vestiges of the qualities that you have sacrificed in pursuit of the unattainable.

Do I still strive toward something greater? Of course! It’s fun to chase this vaporous idea of success, even as it changes form and deceives you at every turn. My father is an avid fisherman and he would be the first to tell you that a bass on the line is only a small part of the allure of it. It’s the ritual, the escape, the mystery of what waits in the darkened waters. The good stuff swims deep as David Lynch says, and the good stuff is only good when it’s rare and elusive. This is true in love and life and most certainly with regard to big creative goals.

Months into the Quarantine I was no longer feeling like I could keep it up. I wanted to keep making things but it felt unimportant. In addition to the disease we were seeing all kinds of dramatic and painful things happening day after day. My little dreams didn’t matter. Comics didn’t matter. I didn’t matter. In many ways this still rings true, but I worked to redevelop my relationship with the process and that continues to this very moment.

Out of the blue an email came through from the most unlikely editor. This editor is someone who I thought hated me, or at least saw me as some kind of abscess. The email specifically asked about me and my interest in writing a Midnighter book with Becky.

This was a no brainer of course, YES I am interested in writing Midnighter! I’m no fool, I recognize that Becky is the target here, but goddammit my name was there too… I was asked for! I felt like a polaroid slowly revealing its subject. I had been seen, however vaguely, and I was again visited by Hope. This time I was prepared and demanded that we meet in a public space and I let my loved ones know where I’d be and if I didn’t return to send help.

Immediately I knew what I wanted to do with Midnighter and I think my enthusiasm was appreciated. After a video conference with some of the other Future State teams I felt validated knowing that these ideas had inspired them to connect with us further to tie the pieces together. Not long after this the Goddess herself presented.

When we got asked to do the “Immortal Wonder Woman” book I was more prepared for the good feelings. I was riding high on Midnighter, and I was ready to simply smile and nod and commit to telling the best damn Wonder Woman story I could. It all came together quickly and since completing it I feel confident in saying it is going to shake people to their core. Between the recent work on Midnighter and Wonder Woman I feel like I have made the most of this opportunity and I have been a valuable asset to the team. I cannot wait for y’all to see what we’ve done on both of those books.

After these things come out I don’t expect anything. I hope that people like it. I hope I have done my editors proud, and that we’ve given the readers something worthy of attention. I hope that I find other opportunities as a result, but these are the limits of Hope this time. I have a healthier relationship with it and I feel proud to have killed that greedy nag that it can become. 

I’m one of several newer voices in Future State and I’ve seen some strange things as a result that I would like to comment on in closing. Something that has kind of bothered me is the way people have responded to some of my peers on social media as if they stumbled onto a loose bit of cash tossed down the street by some zephyr beyond their control. This is strange because getting a job is never like winning the lottery, especially in cases such as this. The folks who have contributed to the strange tapestry of Future State have busted their asses off in ways that some cannot imagine. Indeed, maybe some can, because it is this kind of heartache and soul crushing rejection and radio silence and perseverance required that keeps some from pursuing this kind of work. Even in my case as a co-writer, if what I contributed wasn’t up to snuff I would be cut. Plain and simple, this isn’t luck, it’s the product of a lot of sleepless nights, self doubt, and a willingness to walk through fire; and that’s just to get to the dance. We will only know if the pain was worth it when we are done and our self assessment is balanced against the response of the readership and critics. In the meantime we wait and develop stomach issues. We question our own value, right to the core, bypassing the work entirely. If you don’t like what we’ve done it hurts, I don’t care what anyone else says.

That aside, it’s been really neat seeing people get excited for this event. There is so much good stuff going on and it’ll be really thrilling when January and February roll around and the most important ingredient of the creative process is added. You.

Posted on by michaelwconrad

24 Hour Comic Reflections

This past Saturday, October 3rd, 2020 I did my second 24 Hour Comic and was again successful. My story, as per the rules, was completely unplanned, unprepared, and made up on the fly. It’s 24 pages (and a cover) and this one contains over 90 panels (there is no panel goal as far as I know… just wanted to brag on that bit). I began my quest at 11:30am CST and finished the following morning at around 6:15am CST. During this time I updated periodically on IG Live and spoke with friends who were attempting to do the same challenge.

The 24 Hour Comics Challenge was created some years back by Scott McCloud who you know from his award winning “Understanding Comics” a book that has informed my understanding of the medium since I first picked up a copy in the mid 90’s, before I ever considered that one day I would be doing this stuff for a living.

I’ll spare you the fine details of the 24 Hour Comic origin and rules, but I encourage you to look these things up as they may inspire you to make your own attempt, or to modify the challenge to meet your needs. When I’ve done this challenge I have been by the book. I see the rules as the definition of a challenge… I mean, any diversion would certainly make it less challenging and what would be the point in that? This said, I levy no judgement on those who chose to modify, some folks are just plain less masochistic and prideful than I am. 

I do take pride in having done this. The freakshow nature of the challenge appeals to me, I live a pretty easy life in many ways and opening myself up to the brutality of a sprinting marathon of sequential art and storytelling is a good shot of the good stuff. As a freelancer I spend a lot of time in my head wondering where the next job is, who will collaborate with me, and what the next story I need to tell is. This challenge answers all of these questions with a dispassionate list of rules and forces me to get going even when the whole thing seems (at times) to be a fool’s errand.

The hardest bit this year was the first few hours. I had stayed up late the night prior catching up with friends on a lengthy phone call; full disclosure, I drank a bunch of beer in the process. I don’t know what it is, I like to drink beer and laugh with friends even when I know it will create another obstacle the following day. I was aware of my choices and I was willing to endure this stuff to be present for my friends.

Thankfully I wasn’t too low energy. I’m used to working on a less than ideal sleep schedule, so I have learned how to rally and know that coffee is my friend. The real struggle in those early hours was determining what kind of story to tell and reconciling that I wasn’t going to be able to draw it the way I prefer to. I’m never super precious about my art, but the nature of the challenge requires that one presses on even when knowing you kinda phoned it in here or there, or should have spent more time working out the composition of a page or panel. This kind of charge toward the goal changes the creative process quite a bit and I learn a lot every time. One of the great lessons, hard as it is to face, is that my best work isn’t too far removed from my bad work. I think this is because I am very much a student of visual art more than I am an artist in many ways. I’m happy with the fact that I become a better artist every day, and I can say in all humility that I prefer my own work to many who exhibit greater confidence than I can muster.

The big hurt is not being able to tell some stories because it would require a degree of precision or research that the challenge time wouldn’t allow. I needed to set my story well away from something recognized as “our world” so that I would not be held to, or hold myself to, any of the rules associated with such a mundane setting. I think I was quickly able to convey this by making the lead character have elven ears- bang! Subtle cue and away we go!

I decided that the best way to tell the story would be for me to quickly write down some notes I wanted to hit and figure out how to make that flow through the 24 pages. I jotted down some blocks and began, without any idea at all of how I would end the story. I knew it was about a guy who decided he would be king. I knew that the story would center on his efforts to please everyone, so he embarks on a journey to collect information from a variety of the inhabitants of this strange world. I didn’t know how to give that idea value, I just knew that at the end I had a few pages left to close out the account and to try to make some kind of statement, or to leave a particular tonality with the reader. I didn’t plan this out because I knew this was where I would get stuck in the weeds and end up falling behind on myschedule.

Plunging into it I HATED it. I was ready to stop, admit defeat, and go play some video games or faceplant on the bed and feel sorry for myself. I wanted to shitcan the whole thing, post to social media that I’m a fraud and a blowhard, and just disappear. Again it was pride or vanity that prevented me from doing so, but I wasn’t happy with what I was producing and I felt woefully alone and exposed.

I came to realize that I do this stuff for a number of reasons. Some are very petty, like feeling somehow elevated because I don’t personally know anyone who has been able to complete this challenge in recent years. Again, pretty weak, but I also like knowing that some see this as impossible, irresponsible, or just plain dumb. With it being October, folks are reminding each other that Inktober type challenges are super hard and that it’s ok to skip days or whatever… I’ve never been of that opinion. YOU can do what thou wilt, but when I take on a challenge I do it, and do it by the book… that’s what it’s all about… not to prove it to you but to prove it to myself.

I fail regularly. I’ve become so well acquainted with failure that I am at risk of accepting something as a failure before it’s even begun. I’ve been a frequent victim of a self-defeatist attitude because I put myself out there a lot. I take shots at things I have no business attempting, so I accept failure pretty readily. Like everyone I am far more likely to share the shiny successes over the heaping mounds of ruin that threaten to define my creative life. THIS challenge however was something I could control. I CAN BE ON FOR 24 HOURS. 24 hours isn’t much, we can suffer and push and go and get the thing done. It may not be pretty, and it may not feel good, but this was something that I could show agency over. A 24 Hour Comic has no gatekeepers. A 24 Hour Comic can’t be assaulted by critique because it is, by its nature, something that any critic would likely fail to do. Those who would throw stones would be unlikely to ever attempt such a thing because they’re too busy trying to find funny ways to shit on other people out there hustling.

In these ways the 24 Hour Challenge provides a feeling of freedom and a return to the exuberance and excitement of PURE CREATIVITY that is unencumbered by fears and happens without focus onn impressing anyone, creating a saleable product, or even exhibiting any talent. The talent on display is self discipline and willpower. As I came upon these thoughts I was able to rally in the 3rd or 4th hour and start to feel good about what I was producing and the path that I had chosen to take.

Once I found that peace I was more at ease. I was still not completely confident that I would make something worth all the trouble, but again the “trouble” was the damn point of the exercise. Could I choke down this meal of self doubt and still manage to clean my plate? Could my efforts here inform future struggles about my willingness to grind and to create, to get through tight spots? I didn’t have a clear answer to those questions but I continued on and as I did so I had other strange thoughts that were both egotistical and self deprecating… as ya do.

I can’t deny that the egotistical thoughts included wack stuff like “I’ll show them!” and “Behold my (dumb) might!” and even more thoughtful but equally self congratulatory thoughts like “Maybe this is inspirational for someone?” Along with these thoughts were the negative little vampiric ideas and voices that want to remind me that I’m a hack and an imposter. The voices would say that I lack fundamental skills, and that projects like this are a smokescreen to obscure that. That this challenge created the illusion of progression while ultimately doing nothing but perhaps drumming up some attention. I also wondered if this book would stand up against “The Watts”, my book from the year prior that has quite surprisingly found a nice little audience of folks who seemed to enjoy what I had done.

Discovering a middle ground between self admiration and self loathing is a huge part of my story as not only a creator, but as someone walking the earth. That story is writ daily through my actions and thoughts, and I’m trying real hard to be fair to myself and to the world around me. Completing the challenge would not be a measure of my value, it wouldn’t change the way I am seen or see myself, it wouldn’t legitimize me or elevate me, it was something I was doing because I wanted to see what would happen. What happened was this meditative introspection that no one, my partner included, knew was going on. I was facing myself and all the gross and misguided ways I think of myself and my impact on the folks around me. I was humbled and made stronger, just a little bit, and I was happy to have found something to force me into real self examination.

We all wonder what others think about us. Some of these same egoic factors drive our thoughts, to the same degree of counter measures often find their way into that as well. We feel hated by those who love us and to be loved by those who don’t care. We seek approval from those who would withhold such things, and completely ignore those who think we’re great. This is the silly nature of affirmation seeking that has ruined countless people who would be just fine if they chose to see things as they are.

The way I see it most folks are struggling with their own wounds, and triage dictates that they address this first. Unfortunately from the moment we are able to say “I am.” we begin bleeding and it never stops. We pack gauze into the wounds and petition the great invisible powers to save us, but it’s damn near impossible to take our eyes off of our own desperation. We will withhold care at times in a misguided attempt to not cheapen our efforts, or to protect ourselves from the embarrassment of giving something to an unwilling recipient. We are so fucking scared for ourselves that we struggle to see that not only are we being neglectful of those who need us, but we become so preoccupied with finding life support that we fail to see the forest through the trees. The people who back us up become translucent, sometimes dismissed or explained away with the flawed, damaged logic of someone whose fears have taken the wheel. We lose sight of what we can give and what we’re being given. We can’t expect to be celebrated, the party doesn’t need to be cancelled because it’s already been happening and we’ve been sleeping through it. There will never be enough cake, and when you do get a piece you’ll eat it so greedily it’s as if it was never even there.

Becky went to bed awhile after midnight. She didn’t want me to go it alone, but was exhausted. She was so sweet and so kind about making sure I had water and snacks and support that I damn near had to chase her from the room. Having ruminated on these ideas of support and ego and all that I was able to see how goddamn lucky I am to have someone who believes in me and is willing to let me know. I really hope that everyone has at least one person like that in their world, it makes all the difference.

As the hours grew small I was going at a much quicker rate. I had figured out where it was all heading, I had found a shorthand for representing the characters, and with the end in sight I found a second wind for that final dash. I’m not gonna delude myself into thinking that the final pages are some great display of my skills, but they work and before I knew it my story was told.

Finishing early is when you can find a new kind of guilt. This is the guilt of calling it done and getting some well earned sleep rather than going back and fixing stuff or adding some more details and background context. I didn’t give myself that hard time, as the process had in fact reminded me to cut myself some slack and to loosen up. I was delirious from the experience and ready to be done with it.

CLimbing into bed I briefly rolled around the thoughts that I had confronted during the process of the 24 Hour Challenge. I wanted these to be the last thoughts in my head as I fell asleep, because I knew without further meditating on such ideas I would surely return to old bad habits. The habits of self celebration over honest evaluation, and negativity over troubleshooting solutions. The habits of feeling invisible and unloved, and of course its ugly bedfellow that doesn’t allow me to celebrate the beauty and talents of others.

This challenge is hard. This thing isn’t for everyone, and I don’t think it’s meant to be. Conversely, it isn’t elite, or exceptionally more difficult than other things… it’s a tool that I welcome you to pick up and add to your personal creative utility belt. There is as much to be learned from this challenge in failing, or in deciding it isn’t for you as there is in its successful completion. I just wanted to put it out there, and to share the relationship that I have had with it.

When I finished the final page I immediately swore I was done with this challenge. I had again proven that I could do it, no need to go for it next year. Here I am just a few days out and I’m already reconsidering… This is why people climb mountains- sure they miss the view, but it’s that incline and the burning pain that brings them back.

Posted on by michaelwconrad

Keep Running.

The past few days have consisted of a bunch of work, work- as you know- is both a symptom of, and the seed of HOPE for freelancers. It’s brutally hard to thrust yourself into the fire when there isn’t much going on and I suspect this willingness is truly what separates those who will succeed from those who continue to wish instead. At my best, I’m the warrior, at my worst I’m immobilized and frozen. It goes without saying that I strive to the former, the diligent worker rather than the milky eyes dilettante with a head full of ideas that find no concrete expression.

I suppose it’s important to once again redefine success. In many ways I am already successful, depending of course on the metric we go by. I have been paid to work for the big ones, and I have earned my pay. I have created successful work, Mirriam and Webster could tell you as much. But, while I do identify as a writer I have the all too human tendency of ignoring conventional definitions and fostering new ones entirely. Sometimes my definitions appear in harsh contrast to those approved by the masses as rote and inherent. In the case of “success” it’s fluid and ever changing, which I suspect is true not just for me, but is instead the REAL definition that the dictionary finds hard to whittle down. Success as a concept demands multitudes of essays and books and TED Talks and podcasts and films and deeper levels of understanding. Success for me is a thing I doubt I have the capacity to attain because I suspect it requires some sense of finality. With invisible goals there is rarely a ribbon to run through at the end, it just recedes into the horizon and we keep pumping on, and that’s where the fear comes in. 

So if success is unattainable, why bother defining it? Well, I would say that in its evolution we can find mile markers of where we are and where we’ve been. With careful meditation one can turn their head in that neverending marathon and see that progress is in fact being made. It’s hard to do because we have to keep our eye on that goal if we are to keep up the pursuit, but if we don’t check the rearview periodically the outcome would surely be madness.  

Right now I have to keep pressing forward and ignore the progress I made in 2019. In the moments when I have reflected too much I have found myself fearful that I won’t have a 2020 that feels more accomplished than the year prior. A great anxiety of mine is that I will slip back down a bit, while this is natural, it’s also something that I hate to consider. I have to keep telling myself that this isn’t a competition (even against myself) without losing my edge. It’s a sad state of affairs when fear and pain are the only gas for the tank.

I’m doing what I love. I have told young folks for years that if you want to be a (insert creative profession here) that you become one by doing it. I’m terrible at taking my own advice, even in the rare instance that it is good or true, so here I am again typing to rewrite the neural pathways that keep me pitching dark clouds up over everything. I love the struggle. The struggle is my choice. I thrive in the struggle. The struggle defines me. The struggle is success.

But I digress… over the past few days the struggle has taken on a different shade. I’m in the process of selling another graphic novel, I’m working on several secret projects with a legend of the comics industry, as well as several other creative pursuits that have promise of coming to life. I’m so much better off today than I have been in years prior, social media has a way of reminding me of this with that “On This Day” function. It used to be that the only potential I had was created strictly by my own grit and financial sacrifice, it’s wild that now I expect money for something that I was doing/would do regardless.

Another big step that I have taken is that I have gotten much better at listening to critique, gleaning information, and not getting a hair up my ass about stuff that might sting a bit. I had a lovely conversation just the other day in which several of my precious little ideas for stories were cast off like befouled wet socks. As recent as 6 months ago I might have packed it in and shut down the whole affair. I would have defended my work with a sad vigor reserved for the hopeless. I would have reminded myself that people can’t understand my genius because they fail to see nuance and subtlety… this is an important skill, but equally important is to remember that most of the time that is weakness and bullshit. I have found refuge in knowing that where these darlings came from are a lot more, and that like ants attempting to cross a stream, these will do so on the backs of their fallen kin. This is a huge step for me.

To close the conversation this mentor gave me something to work with that is more valuable than placating my fragile ego would have ever been. In this instance Senpai told me I was holding back my weirdness and that I was doing myself a disservice by not leaning into that. I had been trying to make stories and build pitches that felt familiar and safe, an error, and an affront to my aspirations to live authentically.

I don’t know when I started to fear my weirdness- I suspect it came during an important pitch on a project that actually happened. I was told that the story was strange, and that it might be hard to sell. At the time I took great pride in this, but it rotted away like an old tooth exposed too only the sweet candies of self assurance and became an infected abcess. I feared my pitches failing because they were too “me” and I’m cursed shine like a mysterious star that no one else can understand- right? Wrong. Ever hear a sad breakup song at the right/wrong time that is almost too painful to listen to because it captures your heartache a little too perfectly? How often did the lyrics-all the lyrics-echo your situation completely? I would guess “rarely” as this has been my experience. The thing that connected me to the artist during these times was a shared humanity. Our worldviews, experiences, values, etc. can be wildly different, but the song itself reverberates off of our longing to feel understood. The magick was in hearing elements of truth in someone else’s engagement with pain, especially when it was an abstraction of my own. I needed to hear that universality isn’t born of being able to speak for the masses, it’s born of sharing the thing about myself that is unique to me that others identify with on their own terms.

So what does this mean for my writing? Well, it doesn’t mean that I won’t consider my audience, but it does mean that relationship will become more healthy. I promise to lean into my own personhood and I promise not to be sad if you don’t see yourself there- but if you do… firstly, condolences, but more importantly I have a lot to share.

Let’s get bizarre in 2020.  

Posted on by michaelwconrad · 2 Comments

A Meditation.

Well, a lot has happened… in many ways it feels like my year is over. Doom Patrol came out and did really well, much better than I could have even imagined really. It seems like our meta love letter was just what the doctor ordered! This fills me with an incredible amount of pride because I know fans of Doom Patrol are outspoken and would have let us know if we made a misstep, but in this case it has left a passionate group calling for more. I know that it’s kind of a long shot, but I’d love to continue to tell stories in this little pocket of the DCU.

Additionally Tremor Dose came out and frankly I had no idea that the book would make the kind of noise it has! As I write this it remains a top seller, and is currently on sale through comiXology for $2.99… which is insanely cheap for 130+ pages… not to mention it’s free to members of Prime, as well as members of comiXology/Kindle Unlimited. If you’re taking the time to read this I would hope that you have read Tremor Dose, as it is the comic that has really defined 2019 for me, and has allowed me to focus on comics full time.

So these things, along with a couple zines, my Tomb of Dracula story at Marvel, and a new online store have all happened leaving me with the obvious question of “What now?”

A few months ago I had strong ideas of what was next. I had tentative work lined up on some incredible projects but one by one these things have dried up. Emails have been slow in coming or altogether unresponded to. I have found myself spending a lot of time wondering if the success has been imagined and I’m just a fucking fraud. I had never heard of imposter syndrome until this year, and even then I had really only heard people use it in the self congratulatory, “Oh my gawd, I’m doing something incredible: IMPOSTER SYNDROME!” kind of way. For me it has been a very real thing, I feel like I can’t trust the positive responses because they haven’t seemed to make anything easier!

That said, at this years North Carolina Comic Con, a show I attended last year, I felt like a proper comics pro. I was able to sign some copies, and for maybe the first time ever feel like I had a voice among the creators we spent evenings with. I felt like my true identity, that of a peer, was acknowledged and that felt wonderful. This is a big thing for me, I don’t know if it’s from years of struggle, not only in comics but in creativity in general I’ve always felt like the odd man out. Feeling like I’m finally getting somewhere is outrageous because I’m so hardwired to expect so little.

I spent a few days after the show laying on the couch. I didn’t know what to do, and then one day I just started typing. I wasn’t exactly churning it out, but I was back in the fight and beginning the process that I have known was the only move… to write and write and write and expect nothing. I’m rebuilding, that little success proved toxic in a way, but now I’ve learned that a bit of success isn’t a magic wand and that I am still in the trenches. I suspect that some who have been following me over the course of 2019 have this idea that I’m a Made Man now and that I can call up DC and say “Hey, I have an Animal Man story that is gonna light the world on fire!” but that just isn’t the case for most freelancers. I have to strap myself to the desk and grind and do what I’ve always done best, which is to make the things that get me off and be pissed.

Being pissed doesn’t require blame. I don’t blame those editors who haven’t written back, or those polite rejections. These are busy people who need to be really careful with what they get behind, a safe bet succeeding or failing in the marketplace isn’t what I can offer. I will always tell stories that are outside of the norm, and to take something like that on and to have it fail can really sink things for an editor who is under a lot of pressure. I understand that as much as some of them would like to take risks, those risks will be reserved for folks who have earned that kind of privilege and I am a loooooong way from that.

Being pissed doesn’t mean kicking the dog, being a cold partner, being mean to yourself, none of that; it means arming yourself and going to war with those bullshit ideations of ego and self loathing. It means not feeling like you’re owed a fucking email, or that you deserve not to get one. It just means that you have to accept that this is part of the war, and it’s how you perform on each battlefield that will determine your longevity, your growth, and maybe even your legacy. Being pissed is what gets you back on your bike and pushing when the hills are many.

So those good things don’t count right now. The bad things are imagined, because in truth things are better today than they were yesterday. I get to sit down to write knowing that I have proven some things to myself that I once doubted, good medicine for someone who has used “imposter syndrome” in a very clinical sense. It means I can take myself seriously and know that if I fail it is not because I lack the fundamental skills, it’s because I haven’t done THE WORK.

Right now THE WORK is to continue to put myself out there, and most importantly to work on things without great expectations. I’m 25 pages into a longform story with my Tremor Dose collaborator Noah Bailey, and I’m loving it. What I’m writing is something that if you told me I would be working on even 2 weeks ago I would have laughed you out of the room. We’re taking a giant swing for the fences without any deal in place, no safety nets, no publisher signed on- just like when we started Tremor Dose. The big difference now is that we have been here before. We have faced this fear and we have learned the mantra. 

“I must not fear.

Fear is the mind-killer.

Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.

I will face my fear.

I will permit it to pass over me and through me.

And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.

Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. 

Only I will remain.”

Really though it’s more like the immortal quote of Miyamoto Mushashi “If you know the way broadly you will see it in everything.” In this case the way is simple, accept that there is a ton of work to be done and that is the way of the creator. We are all pushing that stone up the same imagined hill thinking that we are gonna have it easier next time, and perhaps it should be because our metaphorical bodies are becoming hardened to the rigors of the task. But, we keep lumping more and more expectations and fail to notice that in doing so our stone gets bigger and the hill remains steep and full of obstacles. The obstacle we have the greatest control over is our own inner voice chanting insults and self doubt and entitlement. We’ve gotta kill that voice as much as we have to make sure to do the other stuff to secure work and development.

Wow, this has been a rambling one, I guess it’s more of a meditation than a blog post this time around. I don’t know if any of this served the common good, but it’s been important for me to continue to work this stuff out. Come tomorrow I may not even agree with huge portions of what I’ve committed here, but for now this is my truth. These ideas are what’s getting me going again and keeping me motivated to make 2020 a productive and positive year. I look forward to the coming year and it’s great mysteries in part because in that uncertainty is a depth of potential that wasn’t present when I had confounded myself into buying into an illusory idea of what the hell I would be up to.

Live in the mystery.

So let it be written, let it be done.

M 

Posted on by michaelwconrad

24 Hour Comics!

I recently did a 24 Hour comic. For those of you unfamiliar with the challenge it was levied by the great comic creator/scholar Scott Mcloud. Here are the rules:

Create a 24 page comic in 24 continuous hours. That means everything: Story, finished art, lettering, color (if applicable), paste-up, everything. Once pen hits paper, the clock starts ticking. 24 hours later, the pen lifts off the paper, never to descend again. Even proofreading has to occur in the 24 hour period. (Computer-generated comics are fine of course, the same principles apply).

No sketches, designs, plot summaries or any other kind of direct preparation can precede the 24 hour period. Indirect preparation such as assembling tools, reference materials, food, music etc. is fine.

Your pages can be any size, any material. Carve them in stone, print them with rubber stamps, draw them on your kitchen walls with a magic marker. Whatever you makes you happy.

The 24 hours are continuous. You can take a nap, but the clock keeps ticking. If you get to 24 hours and you’re not done, either end it there (“the Gaiman Variation”) or keep going until you’re done (“the Eastman Variation”). I consider both of these “Noble Failure” Variants and true 24 hour comics in spirit; but you must sincerely intend to do the 24 pages in 24 hours at the outset.

I’m proud to say that I was successful in my efforts. Starting at noon on September 19 2019, ending at around 9am September 20. My partner in this affair was the young and talented artist Noah Bailey. Noah created something far more beautiful than I, but he was unable to complete his comic. I say this not as a self-celebration, I only bring it up because the challenge is impossibly hard. Noah approached it as a serious challenge but when he needed a nap he took a nap. When Noah needed to stretch, or eat, or not be buggered down by the thing he allowed himself a few moments. He also took time to make sure that his comic was representative of his high skill level, I was not so precious. 

This is just how I am. When I take something on I put myself into a place where I cannot fail. Call it foolish pride, but I wouldn’t have been able to face myself if I failed to complete the task at hand (or at least give it all I had). I didn’t eat much, didn’t take breaks, didn’t chat much, my only real moments of distraction came in effort to document the event with some live Instagram videos (you can find me on IG @michaelwconrad). I just plain had to complete the task.

I learned a lot about the challenge in this, my first effort, but before I get to those lets do a list of numbers… that’s fun right?

3- G pen nibs (swapped to save time cleaning)

1- panel cut out and taped over a ruined panel

2- refill cartridges for a Pentel brush pen

2- pots of coffee

1- vegan burger

2- oatmeal/peanut butter balls

3- cans of pamplemousse La Croix

1- brief stretch to go hit a Pokestop (lest I lose my streak)

2- hours of a terrible audio book I will not name

1- major spill (Noah poured an energy drink all over his completed pages)

1- lovely spouse who cheered me on (critical)

½- bottle of ink

0- thumbnails (I spent the first hour trying, decided to go without)

Next time I do this challenge I’ll take the following steps to make life easier:

-create templates for the pages I use

-create thumbnail pages ready to fill, in case I decide to use them next time 

-do not use a quill, thick tech pens

-more water/less coffee

-do it alone or with many (so I can wear headphones/not feel like I have to be a host)

-have enough space to hang my work or lay it out as I go for continuity

-improve my pace so I can stretch more, my back STILL hurts

-do not schedule it directly following a convention (MondoCon in this case)

-do better

In the lead up to doing this a lot of people had advice, good and bad alike. I would suggest that you don’t listen to that, each of us have to find our own path. It was really cool to hear others war stories, but I’m not like other people, so some of the stuff they cautioned me against or advocated for proved to only distract me from pursuing my own truth. Hell, I had a few people tell me it was dumb, a waste of time, and even reductive! In my case, the 24 Hour Comics Challenge did exactly what it was meant to do: It pushed me to my limit and gave me an opportunity to remember that I am capable of accomplishing difficult tasks. Were I to have not been able to complete the challenge I would have taken pride in my effort and it would have given me another reminder that I have limitations. 

I look forward to doing it all again next year and schedule permitting, I will do it on the actual day that has been established as the official challenge date… this year it falls on Saturday the 5th of October… Will you take the challenge? Surely if I can do it you can too!

Epilogue: After a brief rest of about 3 hours, I got a call from a major publisher about potentially working on a dream job. While the two things are not connected, I feel this is a reward from the universe for having made a sacrifice. 

How badly do you want your dream? Are you willing to do the impossible?

More: I’m currently setting up my 24 Hour Comic for print. I’ll just go to Kinko’s and make a small run of them. I have been making comics this way for years and I take pride in the fact that I will never stop being that guy. If you’re interested in purchasing a copy I will be sure to follow up with a link (likely after I return from the UK in a few weeks).

Most Important: Bizarre Adventures comes out on October 2, 2019… this is tomorrow at the time I write this. In the pages of the aforementioned book I make my mainstream debut with a Tomb Of Dracula story I am very proud of. Marvel fucking Comics… who woulda thought! I hope you pick it up and let me know what you think.

So let it be written, let it be done.

M

Posted on by michaelwconrad

Loosely Interpreted Social Testimonials

Lately I’ve had a number of people reach out to me in congratulations regarding my recent accomplishments in writing. Their information largely coming directly from me via my various social media platforms. In a way, this means that I am doing a fine job representing myself as someone who is moving forward, grabbing at that Big Dream and making it happen. In other ways it feels like I have been a bit disingenuous. Allow me to explain in list form! I have no interest in making anyone feel like they aren’t witnessing a success story (for my own ego as well as for the sake of potentially inspiring others) but I do wish to contextualize the whole thing a bit better.

Before I really dip in, give me just a moment to say that I feel like a success. I feel like I’m edging ever closer to being able to look in the mirror and see someone who I am proud to be. Right now I see someone who, in honest self appraisal could stand to work harder, even though I know I am working very hard. I see someone who could stand to slow down and be reasonable, even though I know I have been relatively reasonable. I see someone who can push harder, even though I know I’m breaking my back even as we speak. I’m a work in progress, thank you very much.

THE GRAPHIC NOVEL- I’ve kind of teased this graphic novel online but I remain unable to speak much about it due to contractual agreements. I’ve shared pictures of stacks of paper, roughs, letters, and little unidentified images. I’ve hopefully shared just enough to let you know something’s cooking. What doesn’t get seen is the THREE YEARS of effort toward the goal. I don’t show myself welling with tears in frustration over my lack of ability. I don’t show the spats I’ve shared with the artist, and the neutered agony of having to call in my partner to help format things. I haven’t shown the embarrassing stumbles on the way, the anxiety associated with the project, and the horrific pitching process (which couldn’t have been better really, I’m just really bad at salesmanship). I haven’t shown this stuff because… that’s comics.

TOMB OF DRACULA- This one was pretty easy, and it’ll be the first thing that I’ve written for a major publisher. This was done in collaboration with Becky Cloonan, my aforementioned heroic partner. 

If you want to test the strength of a relationship I suggest you give collaborating passionately on a project with your lover. The result of ours is that you’ll get an AWESOME short featuring everyone’s favorite bloodsucker and you won’t be burdened with the ups and downs that come with the creative process. We made something incredible, but the process reminded us of that old adage about how you have to “kill your babies”.  The story is better than expected in part because some of my favorite moments hit the cutting room floor. You won’t see that pain, you won’t know it unless you do something like this. It’s not glamorous, and you feel like a real diaper baby when you’re dying to squeeze in that one critical line and it ultimately is decided to be superfluous.

This will be in BIZARRE ADVENTURES #1 out October 2, 2019 from Marvel Comics.

HEY, AMATEUR!- Kickstarter is scary. Before I get to that, let me explain how I fought my way into this book… well maybe that’s hyperbolic, but I did send a lot of emails. I jocked this project so hard because it meant I would get to know Shelly (see my first post). Bless her for letting me in, it remains a huge honor. 

What I didn’t know was that Kickstarter is the kind of thing that eats your heart unless you hit funding right away. For a month I checked the site multiple times a day and each time I felt sick. For most of the campaign it looked like funding might not happen. While Google told me the final 48 hours were the determining value of a Kickstarter I had already developed an ulcer about the whole thing. I didn’t want to fail, I didn’t want Shelly to fail, fuck failing. Failing sucks, I know it all too well. I’ll have giant blog posts in the future about them, I could write volumes on the matter. I didn’t want that old familiar thing in my life, not this time. 

We ended up making the funding goal (and then some) and I’m happy to say my script has been served and approved. Don’t look behind the curtain at the man sweating and clicking refresh on the page for an entire month. He doesn’t exist anywhere but here and in my memory.

HEY, AMATEUR! Will be delivered in 2020 from Black Crown Publishing

DOOM PATROL #5- Yay, it’s coming out in November 2019! Did you know the story sold about 2 years ago? I wrote it right away and was ready to rip but delays started and seemed like it might be over several times. Did you know that I had given up on it, renewed my faith, given up again, and again, and again, for years? Did you know it had 3 editors and with each editor I feared that SOMEONE was going to say “Who the hell is this guy and why should I give him any ink?” Did you know that when the initial announcements were made I was scared that I would be forgotten or left out even though I had poured his soul into a thing and would likely not even get to enjoy a moment of shine for the troubles? Thankfully the folks at DC were kind, the editors believed in me, Gerard and Jeremy supported me, and again my partner Becky had my back because she knew that we were worth it… even when I began to question. Becky has since revealed that she too had those same concerns, but in her damn near angelic way suppressed those fears and was strong for both of us.

DOOM PATROL #6 will be out November 6, 2019 from DC Comics

THE INVISIBLE MONSTERS- They are legion. These are the ones that couldn’t make it. They exist as files, Google Docs, unfinished work, pitches, outlines, and the worst… unanswered emails. It’s the ones you don’t see that will kill you like a disease, more deadly than a man with a knife. I have learned to keep my damn mouth shut about potential projects (I still tease some of these on twitter… but I get EXCITED) because talking about it scares them away. I’ve had some real close calls with INCREDIBLE opportunities. These encounters far outnumber the mini celebrations of the self I trot out every now and then on social media.

I don’t tell you about those emails that never came back. I don’t tell you about what a fucking tool you feel like when you feel ready to dunk and come up with a whiff of rank nothingness. I avoid painting a picture of myself waiting for a ride that will never come because it’s a bad look. I share this now so that you will understand that these great strides are being committed by someone who is well accustomed to the practice of dusting himself off.

There’s plenty of other stuff, but what the hell, that will do, I need to hang on to some stuff for future blogs anyway. As I typed that last bit I chuckled to myself, I don’t need to hang on to any stories of hardship and failure, I have plenty more ahead of me.

So why do I share the sunny stuff? Why do I congratulate myself publically and hope you feel good about seeing a normal guy get his? Well shit, I hope I’ve earned it, and haven’t lost myself in the process. My steps have been small, but to me it’s been what has kept me feeling like one day that mirror is going to reflect the way I wish to see myself.

So let it be written, let it be done.

M

Oh yeah I turned 40, and I don’t feel a day over 100. Thanks for all the kind Birthday wishes.