One of the ways people can judge the popularity of a comic strip is by looking at the licensed products that bear those characters. Well, it used to be a measure of popularity. In the past decade or two, the market has become very fragmented and pop culture itself has become something of a commodity, thus making the presence and expansiveness of licensing deals is difficult to gauge. But before, say, 1990, you could get a sense of a strip's popularity by taking a look at how much licensed product was available. (Calvin & Hobbes being something of an exception.) The Yellow Kid was on tons of materials in the late 1800s and early 1900s and Garfield seemed omnipresent in the 1980s. And, of course, Peanuts has been the champion of licensing for decades now.
Charles Schulz's daily strip debuted in 1950. The strip became a rising star quickly, as indicated by the fact that in 1952, Sunday strips were added to the mix and Rinehart published the first Peanuts collection. (Interestingly, Fawcett Publications -- yes, the same people who did Captain Marvel! -- also had a line of collections out beginning in 1962.) It's popularity grew throughout the decade and in 1958, the first Peanuts toy figures were produced. But then, in 1960, Hallmark got a hold of the license and we've seen a flood of greeting cards, gift wrap, and ornaments ever since!
A Snoopy balloon debuted in the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade in 1968, and a Peanuts balloon of some kind has been in every parade since. (Well, according to The Schulz Museum. I can't find any record of Peanuts characters appearing in 1996, '97 or '98.) Snoopy has even led the parade in 1999, 2006 and 2010.
Many people probably recall the Dolly Madison ads that accompanied the various Peanuts holiday cartoons. The characters were licensed from at least 1966 through the early 1980s. (The Dolly Madison brand was dropped by Hostess entirely in 2012.) Around the time they were dropped from selling snack cakes, though, MetLife picked up the license and Snoopy has been an integral part of their "Get Met. It Pays." campaign since 1985.
You know full well that Peanuts is licensed out the wazoo. I suspect you've known that since you saw A Charlie Brown Christmas for the first time as a kid. But what's striking, I think, is that the popularity has endured for decades. It's been strong enough almost since inception to warrant licensing deal after licensing deal, essentially without a break. Other characters have been popular from time to time, but few have maintained that level of appeal for that long. Fewer still from the realm of comics.
Charles Schulz's daily strip debuted in 1950. The strip became a rising star quickly, as indicated by the fact that in 1952, Sunday strips were added to the mix and Rinehart published the first Peanuts collection. (Interestingly, Fawcett Publications -- yes, the same people who did Captain Marvel! -- also had a line of collections out beginning in 1962.) It's popularity grew throughout the decade and in 1958, the first Peanuts toy figures were produced. But then, in 1960, Hallmark got a hold of the license and we've seen a flood of greeting cards, gift wrap, and ornaments ever since!
A Snoopy balloon debuted in the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade in 1968, and a Peanuts balloon of some kind has been in every parade since. (Well, according to The Schulz Museum. I can't find any record of Peanuts characters appearing in 1996, '97 or '98.) Snoopy has even led the parade in 1999, 2006 and 2010.
Many people probably recall the Dolly Madison ads that accompanied the various Peanuts holiday cartoons. The characters were licensed from at least 1966 through the early 1980s. (The Dolly Madison brand was dropped by Hostess entirely in 2012.) Around the time they were dropped from selling snack cakes, though, MetLife picked up the license and Snoopy has been an integral part of their "Get Met. It Pays." campaign since 1985.
You know full well that Peanuts is licensed out the wazoo. I suspect you've known that since you saw A Charlie Brown Christmas for the first time as a kid. But what's striking, I think, is that the popularity has endured for decades. It's been strong enough almost since inception to warrant licensing deal after licensing deal, essentially without a break. Other characters have been popular from time to time, but few have maintained that level of appeal for that long. Fewer still from the realm of comics.
As you may or may not be aware, the demographics of the United States have been and are still changing. As a percentage, you can see Caucasian's dominance has been declining since the mid-1960s and is expected to drop below 50% in the next decade or two. While the percentage of Blacks has remained fairly constant, the number of people identifying as Hispanic or Asian has been rising and two combined and will make up around 35% of the US population when Caucasians cross that 50% threshold.
Despite those numbers, and despite the fact that segregation was officially abolished in 1964, most Caucasians have very, very few non-white friends. You've seen this Washington Post infographic from a couple years ago, right?
This suggests that most white Americans, either consciously or subconsciously, segregate themselves from non-whites. What this further means is that, when a comic creator is white and s/he uses almost exclusively white characters, that's in part because they're simply reflecting their personal reality.
See, humans are insanely ego-centric creatures. Even though we technically have the capability to imagine what it's like to be in other situations we're not in, or to be someone unlike ourselves, we still primarily think in terms of ourselves. Things are strange only in relation to what we already know. So a comic creator who might put two or even three minorities in their comic is doing something that seems strange and different form what they know. They're (perhaps not overtly or consciously) afraid that readers won't connect to their story if the characters are too far removed from what they (the readers) know... which they assume is what they (the creators) know.
The problem, of course, goes back to that first graphic. Even though a creator's reality might include almost no people of color, that's not reflective of the country itself. They're ignoring 40% (currently) of their potential audience by ignoring the fact that they even exist. "Well, I don't know any Black people so there can't be that many out there to read my work." It's a completely faulty assumption, akin to assuming that no one can see color if they happen to be colorblind. Just because a specific creator doesn't have that experience doesn't mean it's universal. Or even common.
Creating a world that's reflective exclusively of a creator's own is both boring and lazy. And that may have been acceptable at the dawn of the comic industry when comics were considered a disposable medium barely worthy of more than disdain. But it's 2016 now. Comics have won many, if not all, of the major literary awards, and are helping Hollywood make hundreds of billions of dollars. Comics can be found in almost any bookstore, and are regularly taught on college campuses. Comics are a genuine, respected medium any more. Shouldn't they be held to a higher standard than the pulp rags they once were in the 1930s?
Despite those numbers, and despite the fact that segregation was officially abolished in 1964, most Caucasians have very, very few non-white friends. You've seen this Washington Post infographic from a couple years ago, right?
This suggests that most white Americans, either consciously or subconsciously, segregate themselves from non-whites. What this further means is that, when a comic creator is white and s/he uses almost exclusively white characters, that's in part because they're simply reflecting their personal reality.
See, humans are insanely ego-centric creatures. Even though we technically have the capability to imagine what it's like to be in other situations we're not in, or to be someone unlike ourselves, we still primarily think in terms of ourselves. Things are strange only in relation to what we already know. So a comic creator who might put two or even three minorities in their comic is doing something that seems strange and different form what they know. They're (perhaps not overtly or consciously) afraid that readers won't connect to their story if the characters are too far removed from what they (the readers) know... which they assume is what they (the creators) know.
The problem, of course, goes back to that first graphic. Even though a creator's reality might include almost no people of color, that's not reflective of the country itself. They're ignoring 40% (currently) of their potential audience by ignoring the fact that they even exist. "Well, I don't know any Black people so there can't be that many out there to read my work." It's a completely faulty assumption, akin to assuming that no one can see color if they happen to be colorblind. Just because a specific creator doesn't have that experience doesn't mean it's universal. Or even common.
Creating a world that's reflective exclusively of a creator's own is both boring and lazy. And that may have been acceptable at the dawn of the comic industry when comics were considered a disposable medium barely worthy of more than disdain. But it's 2016 now. Comics have won many, if not all, of the major literary awards, and are helping Hollywood make hundreds of billions of dollars. Comics can be found in almost any bookstore, and are regularly taught on college campuses. Comics are a genuine, respected medium any more. Shouldn't they be held to a higher standard than the pulp rags they once were in the 1930s?
- Daniel Peretti has some thoughts about Heroism and Superman.
- Chuck O'Donnell profiles colorist Tom Smith, who I didn't realize suffered a stroke about a year and a half ago.
- Carol & John’s Comic Book Shop was invited to Facebook’s Menlo Park headquarters in California for its 2016 Small Business Council. (h/t Matt Kuhns)
- Jim Shelley is kind of annoyed that some people seem to think that the current Wonder Woman visuals are a rip-off of Xena.
I've always really liked this 1987 Jack Kirby interview from The Masters Of Comic Book Art. Rather than asking about specific characters or stories or events, Jack espouses on his broader philosophy of comics and life. Very much worth the five minutes of your time to watch it...
When I moved to the Chicago area a few years ago, I scoped out the comic shop scene to see what kind of shops were around, and which ones might be worth visiting more, or less, frequently. I had largely dropped my weekly comics habit a few years prior to that, in favor of trade collections and webcomics, but I was still interested in getting "established" at a local shop. That way, I figured, I'd always have a means to order whatever new and potentially obscure books might come out.
Chicago, as you may know, has plenty of comic shops to choose from. I caught a "Top 10 Chicago Comic Shops" list a little while back and was thrilled that I live in an area that can have that kind of list, and it not just be a list of all the area shops! So I checked out each shop and found that, not surprisingly, they each had a slightly different focus and often a very different demeanor from one another. Also not surprisingly, I found that some shops suited my tastes better than others. And those shops, I felt, were quite good.
But here I am, some years later, without a comic shop that I frequent. I think I visit the ones I've liked the most maybe once or twice a year? And then, it's more often than not for a specific event, like an author talk or a signing or something. I'm sitting here, a week out from Free Comic Book Day, and I don't even have a preference on which shop I should stop by.
As I said, I had largely gotten away from the weekly comics habit, so it makes sense that I would no longer need to make weekly visits, but I still buy a decent number of trades. And while some of those do get ordered through Amazon, many do not.
When I started looking at my buying habits, I noticed that many of the books I get anymore are purchased directly from the creators themselves. At conventions or via Kickstarter projects or just through their personal online shop.
And I bring all this up because of what it might mean to the industry in general. A lot of people continue to look at the sales numbers from Diamond, and assume that's representative of the entire industry. And a number of folks will pipe up at such claims and say, "Hey, you're forgetting about the bookstore market!" Brian Hibbs has done an excellent job for a single person piercing some light onto that aspect of comics sales.
But what we don't have numbers for are everything outside those two systems. Convention sales, crowd-funded projects, etc. Now, granted, we're generally not talking about sales numbers on par with Scholastic, but consider these things... Girl Genius sales are enough to sustain Phil and Kaja Foglio, plus allow them to hire a colorist. Least I Could Do and Looking for Group were strong enough to allow creator Ryan Sohmer to also launch his own comic shop, Comic Bento, and a small ad agency. Jeph Jacques is earning over $90,000 a year through his Patreon campaign alone! And, while individually, that's all comfortably impressive for individuals just doing webcomics, think about how many people are making their own comics. Print or online. And while they're certainly not all as financially successful as the three I just mentioned, the number of creators making a couple hundred bucks a month adds up.
Think about this... If only 10,000 people show up to a convention and spend $10 each, that's $100,000. That's gross, not net, of course, but it's still a decent chunk of change for, say, a weekend. And 10,000 is relatively small show. TCAF is a small, independent show, and they pull in over 20,000.
So what I'm saying is that even if you take a look at the Dianond sales figures (which are dreadfully inaccurate in the first place) and the Bookscan numbers (which are a bit fuzzy as well) you're still missing a sizeable chunk of what the total comics market actually looks like. There's a whole missing third of sales that are essentially going unreported. Something to consider, especially when you're talking about the health of the overall market.
Chicago, as you may know, has plenty of comic shops to choose from. I caught a "Top 10 Chicago Comic Shops" list a little while back and was thrilled that I live in an area that can have that kind of list, and it not just be a list of all the area shops! So I checked out each shop and found that, not surprisingly, they each had a slightly different focus and often a very different demeanor from one another. Also not surprisingly, I found that some shops suited my tastes better than others. And those shops, I felt, were quite good.
But here I am, some years later, without a comic shop that I frequent. I think I visit the ones I've liked the most maybe once or twice a year? And then, it's more often than not for a specific event, like an author talk or a signing or something. I'm sitting here, a week out from Free Comic Book Day, and I don't even have a preference on which shop I should stop by.
As I said, I had largely gotten away from the weekly comics habit, so it makes sense that I would no longer need to make weekly visits, but I still buy a decent number of trades. And while some of those do get ordered through Amazon, many do not.
When I started looking at my buying habits, I noticed that many of the books I get anymore are purchased directly from the creators themselves. At conventions or via Kickstarter projects or just through their personal online shop.
And I bring all this up because of what it might mean to the industry in general. A lot of people continue to look at the sales numbers from Diamond, and assume that's representative of the entire industry. And a number of folks will pipe up at such claims and say, "Hey, you're forgetting about the bookstore market!" Brian Hibbs has done an excellent job for a single person piercing some light onto that aspect of comics sales.
But what we don't have numbers for are everything outside those two systems. Convention sales, crowd-funded projects, etc. Now, granted, we're generally not talking about sales numbers on par with Scholastic, but consider these things... Girl Genius sales are enough to sustain Phil and Kaja Foglio, plus allow them to hire a colorist. Least I Could Do and Looking for Group were strong enough to allow creator Ryan Sohmer to also launch his own comic shop, Comic Bento, and a small ad agency. Jeph Jacques is earning over $90,000 a year through his Patreon campaign alone! And, while individually, that's all comfortably impressive for individuals just doing webcomics, think about how many people are making their own comics. Print or online. And while they're certainly not all as financially successful as the three I just mentioned, the number of creators making a couple hundred bucks a month adds up.
Think about this... If only 10,000 people show up to a convention and spend $10 each, that's $100,000. That's gross, not net, of course, but it's still a decent chunk of change for, say, a weekend. And 10,000 is relatively small show. TCAF is a small, independent show, and they pull in over 20,000.
So what I'm saying is that even if you take a look at the Dianond sales figures (which are dreadfully inaccurate in the first place) and the Bookscan numbers (which are a bit fuzzy as well) you're still missing a sizeable chunk of what the total comics market actually looks like. There's a whole missing third of sales that are essentially going unreported. Something to consider, especially when you're talking about the health of the overall market.








