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

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.