Adrian Zackheim recently posted a piece called The Myth of Self-Publishing in which he says that self-publishing is a bad idea and his advice is "to pursue the traditional path of agents and publishers to the best of your ability." His reasons are numerous, citing that most self-publishers don't make a lot of money, they usually don't know anything about marketing or book design, and they'll never attract any attention in a sea of other self-publishers without the support of a good publisher. He does acknowledge there are some notable success stories in self-publishing, but "Why take that risk and sell yourself short if you don’t have to?"

Let's set aside the fact that Zackheim is President and Publisher at a division of Penguin Books for a moment, and that most of his arguments come across like he's desperately trying to justify his own job. Let's also set aside the fact that most authors wind up having to do most of their own marketing because, unless they're already a big name, they tend to get fairly minimal marketing support from traditional publishers.

One of the big problems with Zackheim's piece is that it starts with a faulty premise. He seems to assume that every author is trying to become the next J.K. Rowling and have some massively huge hit that makes them boatloads of cash. I don't think I've ever met an author like that. Every one I've met seems to write because they like expressing themselves through the written word and, if they're lucky and write A LOT, they might make enough money to earn a living at it. Not necessarily hundreds of thousands of dollars every year, just enough to pay the bills and go to the movies from time to time. And they all seem to recognize, too, that that NEVER happens overnight, and that even after their first full book is published, they have to keep working on magazine articles and sales copy and technical manuals and whatever other writing gigs they can muster in order to pay the current bills.

He also claims that, while self-publishers can get themselves into online stores readily enough, traditional book publishers have an overwhelming advantage in physical stores. Which is almost certainly true... except that has to be said in light of Borders -- one of the largest bookstore chains in the nation -- going bankrupt and closing up shop. It's all well and good to have the secret password to the bookstore chains, but if those chains close then it doesn't much matter, does it?

Another faulty premise he has is that "it's more valuable than ever to have experts curate the works that are really worthy of a reader’s attention." Again, that is true but given the crap that so many publishers put out, I don't know that readers at large trust big publishers any more than independent ones. With few exceptions (and many of those in the comic biz) I don't know that publishers really even rise enough to readers' attention. Does anyone really stop to check who's publishing Neil Gaiman's latest book? Does anyone stop to check who's publishing a book that Gaiman endorsed with a quote that's on the back cover? Does anyone check who's publishing a book that Gaiman, on his blog, casually notes that he's been reading? I'm pretty sure the answer is a resounding "no." Readers definitely do want/need someone to curate the works that are worthy of their attention, but publishers aren't those curators.

He seems to suggest that getting an agent and publisher is an easier road than self-publishing. He goes out of his way to list all of the hardships a self-publisher has to deal with. I certainly wouldn't say self-publishing is easy, by any means, but to suggest that it's easier than getting a traditional publisher is questionable at best. There are loads of hurdles in the traditional publishing route -- which is why so few people are actually able to get published that way. And they're very different types of obstacles than with self-publishing. From a "hard work" perspective, you're comparing apples and oranges.

Zackheim makes it abundantly clear in his piece that he is not going to publish your book. He essentially says his job is to keep people who come to him from becoming published authors; that his job is as gatekeeper to readership. He is the one who is going to say what is worth publishing and what isn't. With the President/Publisher taking that kind of attitude towards potential writers, why the hell would you want to get your book traditionally published by him even if the rest of his arguments made sense?

I don't really spend a lot of time looking for/buying original comic art, but I've still somehow amassed enough individual pieces that I suppose you could call it a collection. Some of my interest comes from the production process itself and seeing how a page is built, and some is a way I can support creators I like. Another fascinating angle, sort of related, is comparing different artists' work side-by-side and seeing how they handle things differently. Take a look at the two pieces I just picked up...

The first piece is by Jason Yungbluth and comes from his Weapon Brown comic. The second is by Steve Ellis from his and Dave Gallaher's High Moon. Both artists have very different styles on display -- Ellis is a lot more loose and seems much more raw than Yungbluth's more smooth lines. Yungbluth's work appears a lot more clean, as well. The Ellis page has many of his original pencil lines still quite visible. Although you can't see them in this scan, Yungbluth's original linework is still somewhat visible as well, but he's erased much, if not all of it, leaving only the barest hint of ghostly shadows of his thought process.

It's interesting to see that Yungbluth went ahead and largely drew full figures, despite parts of them never intending to be seen. CALv1N's right arm in panel three and his face in panel five were drawn well into the margins of the page, for examples. There's also some substantial re-positioning of the figures in panel four, and Chuck's head was dramatically altered in panel three.

Ellis, by contrast, doesn't change much, except perhaps to refine the quick scratchings of the explosion around the edges of the page. What you can't see here, though, is that the back side of the board features a print-out of a very rough layout sketch that Ellis had done before-hand, scanned in and printed in reverse. He would then be able to light-box the layout he liked from his initial sketches right onto the art board, allowing him to focus on the illustrations somewhat independently from the layouts.

It's also fascinating to study the different inking techniques. While I'm no inking expert by any means, Yungbluth's work shows a mixture of tools: brushes, ink pens, both black and white inks. Interestingly, it looks to use much of the same styles and techniques that guys like Joe Sinnott were using a half century ago. Ellis, by contrast, looks like he uses a brush almost exclusively, and rarely seems to bring out white ink.

That's not to say, of course, that one style is better than another. They're just different. Different types of artists trying to tell different types of stories. But I just think all of those differences make for fascinating comparisons. And that they happen to be really cool individual pieces of art makes it that much more awesome!

Tom Spurgeon's topic for this weekend's "Five for Friday" is to name five people who you think won't get into the Eisner Hall of Fame that you'd like to see in there. Frankly, it's not an award that I pay too much attention to, but I figured it was safe to assume most of your standard comic legends were already inducted. Kirby, Ditko, Barks, McCay, Steranko, etc. So I started my list off with someone who's work isn't widely known because it was mostly done before comic books as we know them even existed: Lynd Ward.

"But wait," I thought. "I probably ought to call up a list of winners just to make sure."

And would you believe Ward was actually just inducted this year! Who knew?

So I scanned through the list to familiarize myself a bit. Mostly the types of folks I figured. Mostly American names, though. Fair enough. Not entirely surprising. I'll focus on non-American creators. I'll start with the artist from Lone Wolf and Cub: Goseki Kojima.

Nope, there he is. He won in 2004 alongside Kazuo Koike.

Hey, look! Matt Baker won in 2009. Osamu Tezuka in 2002. Richard Outcault, Malcolm Wheeler-Nicholson, Dale Messick...

In short, a lot of folks who I would not have figured would have even been considered because, frankly, they're weren't white American men who were working in the business after 1950. Granted, it's still very heavily weighted toward those types of guys, but that any of these other folks made it in surprises the heck out of me. In a good way.

So here's a hearty kudos to the Eisner judges for keeping an open mind about inductees! That list could still stand to use quite a few women, minorities, and non-Americans but it's a MUCH healthier list than I would've guessed.

I read the latest volume of Bakuman this afternoon (fantastic series, still really enjoying it!) and, in it, Moritaka falls ill from over-working himself. He's hospitalized but is insistent that he continue drawing from his hospital bed, his rationale being that his and Akito's story is just starting to gain traction and tack off with the fans and he doesn't want to jeopardize that by putting it on hiatus for any length of time. His editor-in-chief refuses to run any of the story until Moritaka gets better, thinking that will convince the artist to recuperate. Moritaka, against nearly everybody's wishes, continues drawing anyway and churns out several chapters from his bed. He is so determined to become a great mangaka that he refuses to let anything stop him.

It reminded me of Monkey D. Luffy, the protagonist from One Piece. He's essentially a pirate with super-powers, but part of the character's charm comes from his almost single-minded (and, in some ways, simple-minded) determination to achieve his goals. In fact, most of his crew are all working towards incredibly lofty dreams, and none of them refuse to quit for anything.

The Thing is much the same way. Fandom has always wanted to put him in the "muscle guy" category, but his really strength comes from his willpower and courage. It's not that he's strong, it's that he will continue to fight and struggle regardless of what his chances of winning are. There's that Lee/Kirby issue (FF #40) where Dr. Doom hits him with some gravity beam, and Ben struggles to stand up against some huge magnification of his own weight. Doom is incredulous. And not only does Ben get up, but he manages to trudge across the room and crush Doom's hands.

A lot of great heroes are like that in some way. Green Arrow is another favorite of mine because he can be just to stubborn a bastard to quit. He's not even super-powered and knows his out-classed by even Batman, but he holds his own in the Justice League because of his willpower and spirit.

I do what I can to exercise and, not surprisingly, it becomes tiring after a while. After 20 minutes of non-stop laps in the pool, and I start swallowing water when I try to breath, I figure it's time for a break. Or when I've already run around the neighborhood enough times to rack up 5-6 miles, and I start to consider whether I should continue for the other 6-7 I had planned on. I'm not facing life-and-death situations against super-powered villains, but it's still a struggle. And that's when I pull my heroes out.

"C'mon, Sean! You're not even half-way done! You think being tired would stop Luffy?!"

"You know what Ollie would say, don't you, Sean? He'd say, 'If Arthur can do this, I sure as hell better be able to!'"

Oh, sure, I'm totally aware that these guys are all fictional, and their writers can have them miraculously summon any amount of willpower they need whenever they need it most, irrespective of how plausible it might be in reality. And that's why I don't always succeed. That's why my 13 mile run on Saturday became a 12 mile run that I had to walk for the last mile and a half.

But a lot of the time, being able to call on those heroes for inspiration helps. It gives me something to strive for, even if the end goal is ultimately unrealistic. And that's why my 13 mile run on Saturday didn't end at mile seven, when I was drenched in sweat and my soaking-wet, now-considerably-heavier-than-normal shirt had chaffed enough that I had started bleeding. Luffy and the Thing and Green Arrow were there telling me to keep going, despite the pain, despite the exhaustion.

I was really disappointed with my performance on Saturday. I didn't complete what I set out to do. But, on the other hand, I did a lot more than I felt I was capable of doing at the time. Maybe it's a bit cheesy. Or juvenile. Or simplistic. I don't know. But those heroes that I read about in comic books really do urge me to continually move forward and do better than I might otherwise do without their "encouragement." It might sound trite to say that heroes inspire people, but I think it only sounds trite because a lot of people who are called heroes don't really deserve that title. But the good heroes? The really good ones who do deserve that title, even if they're only just well-written? Well, they inspire me at least.

• Friend Troy points to this article that a carjacker tried to steal an unmarked police vehicle by claiming that they were filming a scene for The Dark Knight Rises and taking the car was in the script.
• 
  J.P. Cote has created a three-dimensional version of Exciting Comics #45 out of paper, and provides the templates needed to make your own!
  
• The Hooded Utilitarian is counting down the results of their poll to find out what the best comics ever are. I honestly don't recall which ones I voted for, but they're noting who voted for the ones in the winning spots. (Which is a good thing for me; I barely even recall that I was asked to vote!) Numbers 10 down through 4 are online now, 3 and 2 will go up tomorrow, and the #1 comic of all time will be revealed on Friday.
  
• Matt Kuhns weighs in on the recent Kirby/Marvel ruling and the notion of work-for-hire. While you may well be sick of reading about opinion pieces about all this by now, Matt comes from the perspective of a graphic designer who does almost nothing BUT work-for-hire as a matter of course. As such, he weighs in on why a comic artist is in a different position than, say, just about any other type of commercial artist.
• Charles Hatfield has a new book coming out early next year called Hand of Fire: The Comics Art of Jack Kirby. More details can be found here.
I'm always up for more Kirby!
• More immediately, Greg Theakston is coming out with a new set of books re-printing the old Kirby comic strip Sky Masters of the Space Force. Unlike the previous version, which was one volume, Theakston will be publishing this as two volumes. I have the one-volume version and that was WELL worth it! Go pick this up!

As it happens, my recent Buz Swayer find coincided with that of Wash Tubbs. Both by Roy Crane, not quite ten years apart. (At least, the specific strips I read were less than ten years apart.) The Wash Tubbs reprints I came across were in Dragon Lady Press #7, pictured at right.

The difference between the two strips, to me, was astounding. Just about everything I didn't like in Buz Swayer was completely absent in Wash Tubbs. The art was consistently styled throughout the strip, regardless of what was being drawn. The characters still displayed attitudes consistent with the time period, but not not spitefully so.

The plot is generally just a straight-on adventure series without a lot of deep characterization. Captain Easy is a hero/adventurer just because he is. He gets into fights and chases. There's a loose plot to follow, but motivation is pretty lax, as you would probably expect from any piece of pop culture fiction from that time period. It's a little like watching Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom -- lots of action and face-paced adventure, but it doesn't make a whole lot of sense if you sit down to think about.

I don't mean that in a disparaging way. It's not the type of thing I'd want to read long-term, but it's something of a palette-cleanser after reading a bunch of small, indie books that are trying to be or actually are deep, reflective and self-important.

What I read did a little to redeem Roy Crane for me. That Buz Sawyer stuff was really just... wrong, but Wash Tubbs holds up a lot better and I can see why that strip lasted as long as it did.

Let me start with something akin to the "ideal" webcomic creator situation. You do some work you enjoy pretty much every day. You throw that online for free. People visit and enjoy your work to varying degrees. The people who REALLY enjoy it then buy whatever material you've got related to that -- printed books, posters, t-shirts, keychains, whatever. Because they're primarily made via a print-on-demand service, you can effectively keep everything in stock indefinitely. As your output continues, then, you still get a decent income even when you don't have a new book out because you've got enough of a backlog of material that you've always got people buying your old stuff.

That's an extremely short (and specific) version of what's called "the long tail." SmarterComics recently published a graphic novel version of Chris Anderson's book explaining the idea in more detail. Worth the quick read if you're not familiar with the concept.

So why should we be following that example?

Well, let's take a look at the economy over the past few years. A lot of big corporations have "downsized", collectively laying off millions of people since 2008 and yet, seemingly miraculously, have managed to remain profitable. Indeed, many companies have seen record profits in this recession. And what this tells CEOs is that the way they can continue to make money is by cutting costs. While they may have already stripped personnel to the lowest they can, there's a growing movement towards reducing the price paid for those workers by changing them from full-time employees to outsourced freelancers. This is cheaper because the employer no longer has to pay for benefits, just the straight paycheck. Which, now on a work-for-hire basis, means that they don't have to pay a FULL salary, just for however much work is done.

Business, it seems, is moving towards having everyone as freelancers. Your job may not be outsourced overseas, but it will be outsourced, even if it's being outsourced to you.

Except, of course, the "important" people like CEOs and high-level executives that are already in that top 1% of earners. They'll keep their full-time jobs and be fine.

I don't want this to be a rant about the growing disparity in income (and therefore all other forms of) equality. I try not to get angry about the rules of the game; I just do the best I can with the way the system is set up. But especially in light of the recent debt ceiling "debate" and pending agreement, I can't help but see things getting more difficult for anyone not already in that uppermost income bracket. Politicians are not even trying to be coy any more about skewing the game to favor the wealthy. So here's my thinking...

As freelancers, we're essentially going to always be on the hunt for the next job opportunity. Some folks will be lucky enough to score gigs that maintain a fairly stable/reliable amount of work, but I think that, for most of us, we'll be working on individual projects as they come up. Which means that there will be busy periods (with decent incomes) and slow periods (with little to no income). In order to smooth that out, it seems to me, we need to have a source of ongoing income that is unrelated to our immediate output. That is, we need to start using a business model like webcomic creators who continue to sell their books, posters, t-shirts and keychains even if/when they get sick and don't post their comic on whatever schedule they're on. You need to create a body of work which can take advantage of the long tail to continue to sell regardless of what your current job situation is.

(Have I mentioned lately that you can buy my book, Comic Book Fanthropology, on Amazon?)

Now the odds of creating a work, or even a body of works, so popular that you'll be set for life are pretty slim. But that's not the objective. The objective is to put out as much as you can so that there's SOMEthing coming in all the time. Maybe your first book only sells one copy a month. And maybe your second and third books only sell one copy a month. And maybe every book you write only sells one copy a month. But if you write 30 books, then that's effectively a sale every day. Which still may not be enough to keep you in the lap of luxury, but that could easily make the difference during some of the slower periods you'll experience in the freelance market.

The reality is that we live in an economy that does not want you to become a success. The whole system is catered towards keeping a wall between you and rich folks. I'm not going to try banging my head against that wall trying to knock it down, or wasting my breath shouting at it. I'm okay with not being among the super-rich, so long as I've got enough to be comfortable. What I'm trying to do -- and what I'm recommending to everyone reading this -- is to set things up now so that I can be a little more comfortable in the coming economy.

I'm no more a soothsayer than the next guy with a blog. But I see zero indication that things are going to get better any time soon. So I suggest you pay attention to what webcomic creators are doing now, because I think their business model is what's going to save your tuchus in the next decade or so.