How I Got Here
Hello,
And happy birthday to me! I got you a present! It’s a blog!
Thanks for joining me for what ought to be a somewhat unusual blog. This one’s both addressing something I’ve been asked many many times and, with luck, maybe helping me sort out a few things for myself. I’m going to be honest… I started writing this in like a fit of imposter syndrome (it’s not just a Sonic mini-series) and depression.
I struggle a lot with my confidence. I think I’m pretty good at what I do and at being a good person, but y’know, between mental illness often not being in line with reality and living and working in the same place most of the time now with a lot of my socialization being online or just through text and just sometimes really burning out from the stresses of my everyday–both personally and professionally–it’s hard. It is hard to be a person right now. It is hard to reasonably do almost anything.
That’s maybe getting away from the point, so to try to bring us back on track… I am a person in a small industry working in what is in some ways an even smaller subsection of that industry–freelancers, people creating comics on their own, outnumber the people working behind the scenes at comic companies making comics many times over. When you have a job like mine, where I work in comics and I work on some beloved properties and I have hiring power and the ability to help people get their foot in the door, you’re frequently asked how you got there? What was your path to success? How’d you become an editor or writer or artist or whatever?
The answer is always different for each person you ask, but a central thread seems to tie us all together: determination, some level of hard work over years, and a whole lotta luck.
So, this is how I’ve ended up where I am.
The Early Advantage
A disclaimer for this whole update: I am an old man (ish–let me have it, it’s my birthday). So, let it just be said that I’m working off of old information. Some combination of half-remembered facts, family lore, and stories from my childhood, that may or may not be fully accurate as I’m not fact-checking them and I may not have always fully understood.
But let’s start when I was very little. Itty-bitty even. One of the first people to know that I had been born–not the first, but certainly within the first couple dozen–was my dad’s boss… Then Wildstorm founder, and now DC Comics publisher, president, and CCO, Jim Lee. Not a bad guy to know practically from birth if you’d eventually like to get into comics. Not that I work with him, but I do and have worked with some former Wildstorm folks and I think this is very indicative of the advantage I had growing up.
So, from birth practically, I was steeped in comics and books. My dad was working at Wildstorm, where he worked in marketing and then in editorial and did his fair share of writing. My mom co-owned Mysterious Galaxy, the San Diego genre-fiction bookstore institution. I was frequently in spaces with people who would later be my peers.
It also meant that I had a lot of access that other people never had or will. I remember being in the Wildstorm offices some days as a kid, and a few years later, in the old IDW ones too. I got to go to DC back in the NY years a couple times. I got to talk to heavyweights in comics and pick their brains and look ‘em in the eye and tell them that some day I’d have their jobs. I got to grow up surrounded by comics and books and the people who made them and to get some real insight to how they work. But, I knew that to make it, I’d still have to work for it, because I saw how hard the people in my life worked too.
One specific story from that time that I think is kinda fun: I was in probably first or second grade and I did that assignment a lot of kids do about “what do you want to be when you grow up?” And while I was probably more in the know than a lot of kids at that age, I wasn’t entirely clear on the nuances of writer vs. artist vs. cartoonist. I knew comics were made by people, and that sometimes the people did one thing and sometimes they did everything, but I wasn’t super clear on what made the difference. And I remember starting that assignment wanting to describe being a writer like my dad, but not fully being able to uncouple the idea of doing the art too. And after it, when I had a clearer picture of what the distinctions were, I think that’s when I really settled into wanting to be a writer.
Gifted Kid
Do you have a period in your life that you struggle to remember? I find that to be the case with a lot of my childhood. It’s one of those things that’s probably nothing, right? The older we get, the less we remember from our youth, and the more it gets filtered down to key events and details–the things that have some major significance or that have been told to or by us enough time we feel we can’t help but remember them. But sometimes I do worry about it. I worry that hindsight isn’t as 20/20 as we say it is and that there are things that’re just slippery–that some part of me thinks I should remember, or that sometimes my mom will talk about like I do remember–but that I just don’t. And when I don’t remember these things, well, it’s frustrating even if it’s not a big deal.
Like, does it matter that I don’t remember the time in my life when I primarily wore sweatpants and cowboy boots? No, though I am retroactively embarrassed for myself. I remember wearing sweatpants–to bed or when exercising, same as I do now, though otherwise I primarily wear jeans (as an aside, since we’re getting personal this time around, my butt has gotten too big and keeps tearing my jeans in the back). And I certainly remember wearing cowboy boots–which I just don’t do anymore. I don’t have a pair, but I do still have a lot of love for a good pair of boots in the right setting. But in spite of how little I know it matters in the grand scheme of my life, I also know that it makes me worry that I can’t remember something like that–the same way I worry when I can’t remember anything. I was talking with Becca recently about feeling like my memory was worse and was it an effect of getting covid and not realizing it, and as they pointed out, it’s probably mostly the fact that I’ve been stressed out kinda non-stop for like… 3 ½ years.
Can you tell I wrote that while feeling more depressed? Anyway, to the topic at hand, what I do remember from this time in my life and that is relevant to how I got to where I am, is that I was a gifted student. I know I have a few international regular readers, so I’ll elaborate in case your school system is substantially different. When we moved from bustling San Diego to the middle of nowhere, Arizona, I went from private school to public school and two very different educational standards. I remember, as an obnoxious, snotty kid, saying at some point that it seemed like the expectations for me through 6th grade in Arizona weren’t any different than the expectations I had already met and exceeded in San Diego in 4th grade.
Shortly after I started at my first AZ school, I tested for gifted and talented and was found to be gifted. What that actually meant was that I tested really well. I had a higher reading level than my peers. I needed more of a challenge in my work–again, likely largely influenced by different standards coming in, and which I think I must’ve gotten, but truth be told, with a small staff in a small town, I don’t really remember getting that much extra attention or challenge to my assignments. I wasn’t a super genius needing to skip a bunch of grades and ready to do complex physics or whatever, but I was needing a little more because I could handle it.
Then I went to high school. I traveled about an hour each way every day because I needed to go to the bigger high school in the bigger town because they had the most honors and AP classes–a way of continuing that “gifted” education and receiving early college credit because of it. There, I ended up having a similar experience. When I graduated, I wasn’t valedictorian or salutatorian, but I was in the top percentile of my class and got to give a speech. It was… a high school graduation speech, alright.
My point, such as it is, is that I spent years working in a school system that kept telling me I was smart–or succeeding in a way my peers weren’t, needing resources that they didn’t–and then rewarding me for good performance. With the benefit of hindsight, sure, it probably wasn’t great that I was being told I was special and different and tying a lot of my self-worth to academic performance, but hey, that’s the American school system for ya!
The critical story from this time period I know I’ve told before. I think it was the summer between my junior and senior years of high school, so when I was really starting to look at colleges and get out applications. I was at San Diego Comic-Con and was at a party with former DC writer, editor, president and publisher, Paul Levitz (one of the people that in my childhood I had once told I would have his job someday). I was talking with Paul about my college plans because I knew that he did some teaching on the side and, well, I figured it’d be good to know how to move forward so I could get his job someday. And I told him that I had been looking at schools with strong creative writing programs and journalism programs and what few schools offered comics programs and he told me that his advice as a person who taught creative writing was you can’t be taught creativity. You can be taught how to refine your writing, and there are some programs that put the emphasis on focusing your skills and helping you improve your storytelling, but there are a lot of people who enter creative writing hoping it’ll foster their creativity, and you can’t teach an imagination. His advice was to pursue something that I would be able to write about–things that I could know and always refer back to as a basis for ideas. I decided to pursue journalism because I had some stories that–fingers crossed, might still get told someday–I thought knowing the real ins and outs would be helpful for. I also figured, journalism is about learning how to research and learning other people’s stories and how to tell them. It ended up being a good fit.
College Daze
It’s kinda funny. I’ve been in comics for 7 years now. Celebrated my 7th IDW anniversary in late August. Most of the people I know and interact with on a regular basis are comics creators, or other creators, artists, readers, fans, people in the community at large. But sometimes I get that shock of no matter how mainstream comics may seem, for a lot of folks, they’re still a novelty. Like when I got my haircut last and the stylist had no real idea what my job was. And without a doubt through my own doing, I had a reputation even through college as “comic guy” because both to people with a shared interest and people who barely knew me, that was the fact they knew about me.
College was probably the first time in years that I had made a full comic. And the ones I made were not very good. But, over my years there, I took a few classes that involved comics heavily (including a really amazing comics geography class that was examining comics as a tool of non-fiction storytelling) and in the course of those, made a couple little comics. Y’know, one or two page things as assignments, but something that I had to write and draw and letter all by myself. Having to do that made me really start to think about the tools of making comics. I had never stopped reading comics, I had never stopped thinking about comics, I had to read Understanding Comics and the other Scott McCloud books like 5 times for different classes, but I had so fully bought into being a writer that I hadn’t tried to make my own comics really in a long time.
I had a couple false starts as a writer. I had a series I was working on with my dad that ultimately didn’t go forward and my only regret about that is not having had the chance to work with my dad. I did a comic script as my honors thesis. I got a surprisingly good grade on it considering how weak I think it is. I have not chosen to revisit it because in hindsight, it was not a good script and was a pretty flawed premise.
But what I really got into in college was editing. In my journalism classes, and working on the Daily Wildcat, I got to spend some time learning editorial skills and in the trenches. And, as it turned out, for as much as I loved writing for myself, I also was pretty good at helping other people find their stories, find their angles, clean up and clarify their copy, check their facts, etc. It was also around that point–and around the point of my first real job in the home department at Dillards that I realized editorial also had the perks of regular paychecks and healthcare.
I didn’t focus on editorial in an official capacity. It’s not like I have a degree in journalism with an emphasis on editorial or anything, but I knew it was something I was increasingly interested in pursuing and really busted my chops to try to get good at it. For as difficult as it is to bust out an article in a daily paper because someone blew their deadline or turned in something unpublishable, it is actually far harder to adjust on the fly in comics because I can’t just write something and plug it in.
The other major influence on me and comics in college is, of course, it’s where I met and fell in love with Becca. When we first met, they liked comics, but had largely given up on that part of their ambitions. Like, they were a political science major that had danced around also doing theater because they loved acting and maybe wanted to be a politician and maybe wanted to be an actor and maybe wanted to be something else, but being an artist, much less a comic artist was not a thing they were really thinking. And now, that’s what they do and what they work on so much of the time and with me sometimes and y’know, I could not do what I do now without them in my corner and vice-versa, I don’t think.
My Real Secret to Success: A Broken Car
Those are the factors that really led me to comics. I grew up in it. I had connections. I learned about it myself and in school and throughout my life, and was rewarded for the work I put into learning about comics and learning everything else. I fell in love, and I fell in love with editing. And so I graduated with a journalism degree with a minor in gender and women’s studies and was ready to face the world… by briefly kind of illegally living in my friend’s back bedroom for a few months because I was unemployed and unemployable!
In the middle of the hot Arizona summer, I get a message from my friend Shannon Denton. He’s working on the Alan Tudyk webseries Con Man and they’re shooting the finale and need people for a fake comic convention and he’s heard Becca’s interested in acting. It’d be background stuff, but it could be a little something–a first step, first gig in LA. Plus, we’d get to see each other!
And so, 4th of July weekend, Becca and I drive out to LA for filming! Now, to backtrack (and forward and sideways) a little… I have not great luck with cars. My first car of my own was an old family car that was gifted to me and was rear ended only a few months into owning it. It was messed up–not actually undrivable, probably, but the extent of the damage was more than the rest of the car was worth, so it was deemed totalled. And because it was a car of little value, I took my little payout and bought another crappy car. It was fine for what it was. Except when it started giving me the check oil light. I took it in to get the oil changed and apparently brought it to the dumbest, worst mechanics in town. I say this because…
Back to LA. We’ve been there a couple of days, but the car’s starting to drive a little funny and make some funny sounds and the check oil light’s back on. So, we stop at a mechanic and say “hey, can you look at this? I just had it in the shop!” And the mechanic looks at it and does his whole thing and says that whoever looked at it last screwed me over. The cap to the oil tank was shattered, so it wouldn’t screw in properly and the car could no longer safely hold oil and the oil that had been in it had now gotten into all sorts of other parts of the engine and the engine would have to be replaced, which once again, would’ve been more than the value of the car.
Now, stepping back again for one second. We’re staying with our friend Henry Barajas while we’re in LA. And while I’m at Henry’s place, I see a job posting for an editor gig at IDW (I would later learn that it was to replace John Barber). I go through it and I’m not qualified at this point. But, Henry encourages me to apply, so ultimately he’s like making dinner and conversation with Becca while I sit at his kitchen table and fill out this application, certain I’m not going to get the job.
The mechanic sees the AZ plates and asks if we’re local or if we’re staying with anyone. I tell him that my mom lives in San Diego. He says super, that’s about as far as you can go. You cannot drive back to Arizona with this car, it will not make it there. And be careful if you’re driving this down to San Diego. Becca and I do it. We drive it down, park it in the driveway of my mom and stepdad’s place, and that’s where the car died and was eventually picked up and donated from. But through some pretty convenient timing, I hear back from IDW. I am right, I’m not qualified for the editor position. But they haven’t yet posted that they’re also looking for an editorial assistant–a ground-level opening. And if I can make it there, I can do an interview with Chris Ryall. So it was that my car dying set me up to be in San Diego and do the interview.
It went well. Chris and I knew each a little, from my dad’s time at IDW, though obviously very different with me as an adult rather than a kid. It went well, and I eventually went back to AZ and waited to hear back. I got to San Diego Comic-Con and very nervously approached the IDW booth one day and talked to Chris and he said I had it, just had to finish up the paperwork on their end, and within a month, I had signed the papers and started at IDW.
And now I’m here. I've been trained by amazing people and have worked with so many fabulous creators (and still have such a wishlist of people I'd like to work with one day). I spend 5 days a week (though honestly, sometimes it seems like more) doing editorial work, and trying to write on top of and between that. I’ve got a couple comic series under my belt and lots of stories I’d still like to tell. And I bust my ass every day to bring people comics. Being in editorial, it is a sometimes frustrating job. A job that does not get a lot of credit. And a very difficult job. But it’s my job, and the highs are the best thing in the world.
I still struggle. I think that’s evident, even in how I tell my story about whether I’m actually justified in being here and doing this and if I’m any good at it. I told a friend recently that I have an easier time inviting my peers to my wedding than asking them if they’d like to work on a silly little story with me because for some reason, it feels like that’s going to be a bother or they’re not going to treat me as a serious creator. But that’s my comics story and I expect there’ll be a lot more to come from me in the future.
Thanks for reading. Amended features below!
David
What I enjoyed this birthday:
Birthday cards, gifts, art, and messages! People who bought my Kofi mystery bundles (last call)! People who subscribed to my Patreon (mystery bundles til Halloween at $10+, plus a Wreckers #1 script dissection coming this weekend)! People who sent me $$$ because it's my birthday because, boy, I need 'em (see Kofi link above...)! Blank Check (Podcast), Solve This Murder (Podcast) , Craig of the Creek (Cartoon), One Piece (Manga), Pokemon Violet (Video game), The Archive Undying by Emma Mieko Candon (Book), Yu-Gi-Oh: Duel Links (Video game), The Traitors (TV show), Mothership (This funky space "tiki" bar in town! It's themed around having crashlanded on an alien planet, so like half the bar is what's left of your ship and the other half is like the natural cave formation and the weird irridescent plant life and stuff. It's really cool).
New Releases today (10/18/2023):
No new books from me this week. :C But maybe spend the money you would've spent today on a mystery bundle or Patreon membership or something in my shop or something from Becca (remember, there's even more on Becca's Patreon and itch and other things accessible via their contact page)!
Or put your money to something good like the Palestine Children's Relief Fund, Doctors Without Borders, or UNRWA. It's hard because a lot of this money is anticipatory given the situation in Gaza (and the West Bank) and at time of writing, resources are being extremely restricted, if getting through at all. Or if you want to feel like you're having more immediate action, there're still plenty of ways to give for relief in Ukraine, which is also still under siege.
Or if money is a big ask, which, like, I get it, maybe you can give some time to something important. The Jewish Voice for Peace Action has made an easy to fill out form to write your representatives to encourage defunding and deescalating the Palestinan genocide. You can still submit your comments on "Generative AI" to the copyright office (they've actually extended the submission period). You can write to your reps to tell them to stop KOSA. You can get involved with your local library, or attend a legislative session of some sort, or otherwise take action in what you believe in because, again, things are bad right now and there is so much evil and injustice to stand up against, be it book bannings (and publishers giving in to extremists) or transphobia or worker exploitation or all of the above!
Announcements:
It is my birthday. See above!
Pic of the Birthday:
I will post actual birthday pictures when I have them, so this weekend's blog. In the meantime, final plug for my bundles!
