I
don't remember a time when I didn't love comic books. I do remember my first
one. It's almost like a lightbulb went off in my head and my life didn't
start until then. Maybe I have tunnel vision but it's beyond me how they
don't hypnotize everybody like they do me. Especially now that there's more
variety offered now than in the past 30 years or so. From my point of view,
I'm flummoxed that all kids don't fall in love with comic books. It must
be like when I'm at a doctor's office, trying in vain to read Golf Digest
or Car and Driver magazines. They might as well be written in a foreign
language to me! It seems you either have the comic book gene or you don't.
My first comic was, oddly enough, purchased at a hospital
gift shop. My dad was having back problems and, while my mom and I were
visiting, I was given some money to buy something at the shop. An issue
of Captain America, with a candy-colored logo and backgrounds, caught my
eye. I must've reread it a dozen times over the week. Then my mom tossed
it away, not out of malice, but she figured it was like a newspaper, disposable.
I was crestfallen but got over it somehow.
Then I spent a Summer with my grandparents in Lakeland,
Florida where my grandmother ("Mom-mom") walked me to the 7-11
to buy me comics and a slurpee. Not wanting to take too much advantage of
her generousity, I carefully selected six even though I wanted the whole
spinner rack. I picked mostly Marvels, and one Wonder Woman. I started out
a "Marvel Zombie" probably because Marvel's trade dress was more
garish, appealing to me more than DC's photorealistic Neal Adams and Nick
Cardy covers, not to mention the scary DC horror titles. Even Marvel's horror
titles had a super-hero sheen that seemed safe to me. DC titles like Jonah
Hex and Swamp Thing were too grown up for me at the time(When I was older,
I began buying DC's when a lot of Marvel talent like Gene Colan had defected
there. After DC's Crisis on Infinite Earths, and the indie comics explosion
of the 1980's I wasn't as brand-loyal anymore).
Back to Lakeland: I found the first Marvel Treasury Edition
featuring Spider-Man at a second hand store, which cemented me as a fanboy
for life. I began drawing my own comics that entire Summer. I even made
my first sale, to a kid I played with, a few houses away. I sold him one
of my homemade comics for a quarter. I felt quite accomplished, until later
that afternoon, the kid came back crying to my grandparents, saying his
mom was upset with the transaction. Mom-Mom gave him back my quarter. I
was furious! My first exposure to capitalism, quashed!
After that Summer, I started trading comics with my friends
from the neighborhood, Ricky, Rob and Brian. We had no idea of financial
value of comics, we just traded cover price - that concept seems archaic
now! Then in school at Christmas time, we had a grab bag present exchange
and I got a classic model car kit. But classmate Chuckie got 3 comics, a
Spider-man, a Captain America and a Fantastic Four(actually an FF reprint,
Marvel's Greatest Comics)! Even though I had built my share of models, I
was mesmerized at these new comics that Chuckie had. So we traded our gifts,
both feeling we got the better of each other in the end. Monetarily, the
model was worth a lot more, but I had to feed the beast!
I also remember being around ten years old, hanging around
with my older brother and his friends who were playing pool in our basement.
While one of said friends was waiting for his turn to play the winner, he
read one of my Iron Man comics. I was stunned to see this, an older teenager
reading a comic (this is decades before our now-acceptable geek chic). He
read the whole issue, put it down, disgusted, complaining:"I hate when
they're continued next issue!" That never bothered me. It just made
me look forward to next month-how was Iron Man going to defeat the Controller?
It would be another year or two before I started becoming
a serious collector and stopped trading. It didn't matter, because Rick,
Rob and Brian had begun to lose interest as we were entering Junior High
(that's what they used to call Middle School for you young'uns).
My drawing skills improved when I learned how to copy
others's work. Being a fan of The Avengers, I decided to draw a jam piece
featuring everyone who'd been an Avenger up to that point (back when they
had standards-I mean Dr. Druid, really?). I was aping George Perez, John
and Sal Buscema. I remember it coming out surprisingly well, considering
I didn't have a lightbox. Back then my tools were only Bic pens and magic
markers, all kept in a Titan cigar box.
Another Christmas, my parents got me a set of quill pens,
ink and some Dr. Martin dyes, which I had read somewhere was how they used
to color comics (before the advent of computer coloring). With this upgrade
in equipment, I tried more ambitious illustrations, this time without referencing
others' art. They weren't as good as the Avengers piece, but I was trying
to take the training wheels off. One was a Doctor Doom piece, the other
a Micronauts piece. My parents were very proud of my burgeoning skills and
would have me show off my art when guests would come over. My parents really
liked the Avengers piece more(because it was better due to my swipes), but
I would stew over that fact. I started bringing out only the Doom and Micronauts
pieces, and my dad would innocently say: "No, Drew, bring out the good
(Avengers) one". I would eventually comply, but I had begun to develop
a surly and defeatist attitude. Eventually, one day, dad wanted me to bring
out the "good one", and I informed him that I tore it up(I actually
did it!). My folks were livid! Looking back, it was a stupid thing to do.
Chalk it up to artistic temperament.
In my early teens, I became close friends with Deerwood,
who shared my passion for comics, and we would write and draw our own, and
we spent countless hours plotting how our comics were going to crossover
in a shared universe like Marvel and DC's. I had drawn my own comics when
I was seven, but these new ones with Deerwood, were more advanced (for me,
anyway). I had managed to write, pencil, ink and color 3 issues of the "Cosmic
Crusaders" before I started attending the Art Institute of Pittsburgh.
So I had to put my comic drawing aside to learn other things like perspective,
lettering and packaging design.
After graduating AIP, I took a production job doing promotional
brochures for a toxic-waste disposal company, of all things. It was during
this time that earning a paycheck was more important to me than living my
comic book dreams, so I, in another fit of foolishness, threw away all of
my homemade comics. I really, really regret that. I'd be posting that stuff
on Facebook now.
After several jobs where I learned pre-press production
and developed a steady enough hand, I finally got the nerve to send art
submissions to Marvel, DC, Image and others. This time I wasn't going to
let artistic temperament get the best of me. It took a few years of rejection
to sharpen my skills and finally make the big time. As I've said before,
there's nothing like the first time seeing your name in the credits of a
comic book.
One final note: Early on in my marriage, I tried to get
my wife Karen to read the occasional comic book that I thought would be
considered cool. She was reticent to read any, even ones that I worked on,
knowing that for most of comics' existence, it's been boy-oriented smashface.
I decided to try to impress her with Birds of Prey #8, the issue that established
Oracle's romance with guest-star Nightwing. but after she read it, I was
met with , well, not quite indifference, but not the enthusiasm I was looking
for either. She did say it was very nice the way one approves of a friend's
puppy. If it were a National Geographic or a Jane Austin novel, that'd be
a different story. Actually, that's unfair. She did actually read an entire
trade paperback of Sam & Max Freelance Police by Steve Purcell because
she enjoyed the comedy and artwork. But I've since stopped trying to convert
her to reading any comics on a regular basis. I, on the other hand, have
no hope of outgrowing comics. No sense pushing my agenda on her. She supports
the craziness of the freelance artist lifestyle, so I really can't ask for
more. |