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

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.