Next Gen Comic Teaching

Getting ready to start another 2 weeks of summer workshops for comic/graphic novel art/writing as part of the Kalamazoo Valley Community College Center for New Media programs. First week is “Comic Concept”, week 2 is “Comic Production”.
Depending on the age spread of the class, I’m going to follow the same thought process as I did last year; if you’re interested in doing comics, here’s all the work that it will require, no sugar coating. I got good results last year, but it did shake a few of the students up, seeing what’s really required. I was happy to see that most rose to the occasion, but it also exposed the posers, the people who just wanted to wiggle their toes in the water. Fair play, they still got stuff out of the class and walked away with some good basic skills. I just want to make sure that everyone who is serious about this knows what they are getting into.
Coming fresh off of last weekend’s comic convention, I was talking with others about what I felt regarding the generation of young artists that are just now getting into the field. This is the generation who has (in large part) been told that everything they do is awesome; they were on T-ball teams where everyone wins, they graduated from each grade, they were never told that any idea they had was less than spectacular. And therein lies a big problem.
I’ve seen first hand a generation of young artists who have also never really had to take serious critique of their work, never had to learn the skill of listening to constructive criticism and reacting positively to it. I’ve seen college seniors react to an honest criticism on their work with everything short of kicking a trash can and going to sulk in the corner. It was jaw-dropping to see, and a little sad. In talking with creators, I feel more strongly than ever that every up and coming creative needs to know where they are on the artistic food chain; where they excel and where they suck, quite frankly. I do this EVERY convention I go to. I assess where I am hitting on all cylinders, and equally I take a long hard look at where I need to get my ass in gear and do better, be it marketing, art, promotional technique, writing, concept. I am still a student. No question. I still have plenty to learn, and hopefully, I’m getting smarter, not just older.
That’s why I’m concerned for a coddled creative generation; they are just being set up for a harder slap in the head when they discover that yes, there ARE better writer/artists/storytellers than you and the better ones are going to succeed, or at least have a better shot at it than you. And realizing that is going to REALLY suck!
My favorite phrase towards this end is “Learning to deal with failure is like chicken pox; it’s much better to get it out of the way when you’re younger.” This isn’t a defeatist attitude; it’s saying that learning to deal with the aspects of failing at an attempt can provide. A failure let’s you know what doesn’t work, and provides you with the data to not repeat that failing strategy and to pursue a smarter direction on the next pass. This is what builds persistence, not constant winning. I’d much rather meet a young artist who’s a scrapper than a over-assured winner. That scrapper has probably had to work a hell of a lot harder for the successes they have, and will be a much more motivated promoter of their work. This doesn’t mean you have to be an ass about your work, but having an fairly-earned justification sure makes you more dedicated to representing your work with intelligence and conviction.
For my classes, I always get to deal with a student who has a massive, sprawling graphic novel in them, just waiting to get out. My first question to them; “Have you done a 4 page story? An 8 page story? Have you done more than just plan for it? Has the pencil hit the paper, or the cursor clicked?” I don’t ask this to derail them, but rather to give them a better first stepping stone to launch from. Because I did a huge, sprawling , epic science fiction story for my first published comic book, and it was a huge, sprawling epic mess. It sucked, if I may be blunt. It was spirited, it had moxy, but it was way way WAY more than I could handle, and it looked like it. And it didn’t sell for crap. So what was my next step? Close up shop, take down the shingle and call it quits. I should have, because I had just failed.
No. I got my shit together, took one panel that had an interesting part that did work, and came back with LITTLE WHITE MOUSE. Which had tons of problems, shaky art and shakier concepts, but was better, and something I could handle and learn from and get better from. Mine was not a remarkable case, or anything special, but it was necessary as a young artist to go through the crap storm and try to come out better and smarter on the other end. Thus was born my working model for being a comic artist and writer.
It doesn’t make me special, but it did make me tougher, and more inclined to get better, get smarter and ready to learn, grow and defend my work when it was good, and shut up and learn when I needed to make my work better. Ongoing cycle, still in progress. That’s what I hope to show my students in my classes and workshops. If you dig doing this, make yourself strong enough to be able to wither the piddly crap to get to the good stuff. It’s SO worth it when it does come through.