When I was making comics in middle school it was all about coming up with the most bad ass costume design (more spikes!). In high school it became about trying to write the most gritty dialogue. Later it was all about pacing or figuring out the beats of a scene.
For the last two years it’s been all about guilt and shame.
“Oh, It’s the End of the World” the comic I’d been working on had become a horrible chore. I could tell there was still another year of work I had to do on the book before it would be finished, but I’d lost faith in my ability to make the climax engaging. The story went off in to areas I now wish it hadn’t, and didn’t get to places it needed to in order for the planned ending to fly. I battled this with rewrites, new middle chapters, and lots and lots of guilt about missed update schedules, bloating chapters, and imagining disappointed readers.
I don’t think it’s a lost cause. With some time away and reworking I think it could be shaped into something I’m really proud of. But I spent a long time convinced that the best way to get out of the hole was to keep digging, and that’s crazy.
So about two months ago, quietly, “Oh, It’s the End of the World” went on hiatus, and let -me – tell – you, it’s such a good thing!
“I’d toyed with the idea of giving up comics.”
Even writing that sentence just now seems ridiculous. Giving up comics? What? I’ve been publishing comics since I was in elementary school! As long as I’m medically able to, chances are I’ll do another comic.
Case in point, I’m working on a new project that I plan to publish this year. Oh wow it feels exciting to write that. There’s a ghost in it. It’s awesome. That’s all I’ll say about it now.
I’m writing this to acknowledge that this shit can get really hard, to say that I’m still here. I’m once again excited to be here, thank you for still being here as well.
I can’t wait for you to see what I’ve got up my sleeve!