"cartooning-lessons" via sstwalley in Google Reader

How To Write Comics And Graphic Novels by Dennis O’Neil #7 – A Beached Hero

2009-11-11T13:00:31Z

Denny O’Neil has a long history in the comics industry as both a writer and editor. He’s best known for writing Green Lantern/Green Arrow and Batman, through the seventies, Spider-Man in the eighties and for editing Batman-related titles in the nineties. A widely published novelist and screenwriter, he is currently lecturing at the NYU on Writing Comics And Graphic Novels. Bleeding Cool is grateful to receive a taster of the course every week.

If we were breathing the same air–if you were sitting (snoozing?) in front of me during one of my New York University classes and the subject under discussion was the characterization of heroes, I might blather on about Maslow’s hierarchy of human needs and Campbell’s Hero’s Journey Outline and Vogler’s adaptation of Campbell’s work. Instead of burning off column inches by going into all that, I will save myself a lot of keyboarding and simply recommend a book: The Scribbler’s Guide to The Land of Myth, by Sarah Beach, which contains all the information mentioned above and much, much more. (Full and largely irrelevant disclosure: Ms.. Beach was kind enough to dedicate the book to me, and I thank her for that.)

I’ll wait until you’ve read Sarah’s book.

All done? Good, wasn’t it?

Just so I can’t be accused of being lazier than usual, I’ll add a few hundred words of my own, and I’ll begin with a definition of “hero:”

The hero is–must be–the agent of the story’s resolution. Furthermore: the hero must act on the situation, rather than be acted on, and s/he must be directly involved in the main plot. I suppose the hero can be an antihero–behave badly–if s/he fulfills those requirements. But since “hero” has a pretty precise definition–it’s from the Greek and the original means “to preserve and protect”–we might be more comfortable referring to creeps and cads who serve the hero’s narrative function as “protagonists.”

For the rest of our time together, we’ll make it easy by assuming that our actors-on aren’t creeps and cads, okay? I’m aware of the trend, which I first noticed in the 80s and which has reappeared, of giving heroes, even and perhaps especially long-established one, some unsavory characteristics. I’m not going to throw rocks at the bright and creative folk who have done these stories. Rather, I’d like to suggest a simple test for whether you should take Captain Goody Two Shoes and remake him into Private Poopy Loafers.

Do the hero’s actions add to or distract from the story?

In other words: are you doing the revamp merely to make the nominal hero look creepy. If so, I’m afraid you’re a bit like a kid scrawling a naughty word in wet concrete. Get past the momentary shock and what do you have? Maybe something to amuse those who are in rebellion against their inherited values, and hooray for them!–where I come from they’re the people most likely to accomplish something. But you might not be creating a narrative for the ages, nor one of wide appeal.

Television’s Dexter has to be a serial killer for the series to work. Frank Miller’s recast of Batman in the original Dark Knight Returns is necessary for a novel that emphasizes certain aspects of the character that were only implicit in earlier iterations. (And later writers who chose to emphasize other aspects were also doing a proper job.)

But ickiness for the sake of ickiness? Maybe best not to try this at home.

Dennis O’Neil teaches a ten week course on Writing Comics And Graphic Novels at the New York University. Classes are every Wednesday evening from 6.45pm to 9pm.. For further information, please call NYU’s School of Professional and Continuing Studies at Studies at 212 9987200.

How To Write Comics And Graphic Novels by Dennis O’Neil #6 – Whoever Knows Fear…

2009-11-04T13:00:25Z

Every so often, I have the privilege of standing in front of some of the students of the excellent Upper Nyack Elementary School and telling tomorrow’s savants, usually first graders, about creating characters. It pleases me to be able to say, without lying, that I am telling them what I tell the people who attend my college-level classes, that one way to create characters is for the writer to ask and answer four questions.

You may or may not be as smart as a first grader, or a university student, but in any case, a little exposure to those questions probably won’t hurt you. So here they are:

*What does my character always want?

For Superman, they answer could be that he wants to honor the values he inherited from his foster parents, those loveable Kents. James Bond? A life of high adventure and sensuality and to serve her majesty. Sylvester the cat wants Tweety for dinner..

*Who or what does he love?

The answer doesn’t have to be complicated, or romantic. Superman’s truth, justice and the American way are just fine (though, these days, he might have a bit of trouble defining that last one.)

*What is he afraid of?

This is my favorite. I heard it asked and answered in a television interview with Robert Towne, who wrote what is, for my money, the best ever private eye movie, Chinatown. If you’re familiar with the movie, you might be amused to ask yourself what scares Towne’s hero, Jake Gittes (superbly portrayed by Jack Nicholson). Got it? On tenterhooks waiting for the answer? Okay, I’ll take pity on you: according to Mr. Towne, Jake is afraid of looking like a fool.

*Why does he involve himself in extreme situations?

In a series, involving continuing characters, the answer usually involves what he does, either for a living or another reason that doesn’t go away. This explains the video popularity of cops, private eyes, doctors, sometimes lawyers: their reason for getting themselves into life-and-death situations is built into who they are. It’s what they do.

In the innocent and unsophisticated days of yore, the answer for superheroes was: Because he’s the hero. I mean, he’s wearing the costume, isn’t he? And the guy in the funny suit is the superhero, unless he’s the supervillain, but let’s not go there. The genre has moved past that, though often not too far, and the costumed folk can be as motivated as Jake Gittes, or Hamlet. The “he’s-the-hero” answer might still be sufficient answer for some kinds of stories, those intended for a young audience. I think it would also work elsewhere, provided the writer is willing to labor mightily to make the narrative interesting and witty.

I wish I could tell you that answering the above questions guarantees you a successful character creation, but I’m pretty sure you don’t want me to lie. However…if you can’t answer any of the questions with regard to your latest creation, you might want to take another look at your work. If you’re still satisfied…well, as I keep insisting, there are no rules.

And, of course, having answered the questions still leaves you with just a tad of work to do before you’ve produced the next Harry Potter, such as deciding your character’s gender, occupation, nationality, name, appearance and whatever makes this person really unusual, admirable–you know…special. This last one is especially important because, as you may have heard, character is action and what traits your protagonist uses to bring about the solution to his problems, and hence complete your plot, are usually what makes him/her interesting and worth paying attention to in the first place. The Fantastic Four’s Thing might solve a crime by bashing someone while Agatha Christie’s Hercule Poirot might solve the same crime by mentation–employing those “little gray cells” he was so fond of.

We’ll return to character-building next time.

The Stiff Period to the Fluid Period. No Balls on Balls

2009-11-03T02:22:00Z

I'll get to the Popeye toy real soon, but first to set it up.here is another sample of a lesson from the mysterious secret cartoon college:I suggest (if you don't already) supplementing your cartoon studies with some life drawing. (I know this is a photo, not a live model)Why should you?Because when studying Preston Blair type construction - made of spheres and pear shapes, there is a tendency

Go, Look: Don Heck Gives Advice

2009-11-03T23:25:00Z

Halloween SpongeBob Magazine Cover Painting

2009-10-31T15:42:00Z

(Click on the image above for a bigger version)

Submitted for your Pumpkin-Day viewing is the painting I did for last year's Halloween issue of SpongeBob SquarePants Magazine...a special Halloween themed portrait of SpongeBob and Patrick as seen from inside a Jack-o-Lantern pumpkin.

Here are a few thumbnails of the work in progress:

(Click on the cover above for a bigger version)

...and here's the published version with all the word-balloons, headlines and logos.This was painted digitally using the fantastic (and cheap) graphics program, ArtRage 2.5

----------

Here's a whole series of ArtRage Tutorial Videos:
ArtRage #1 - Intro to ArtRage 2.5
ArtRage #2 - Mixing Colors on the Canvas
ArtRage #3 Painting Reflective Light
ArtRage #4 - More Reflective Light & Colors
ArtRage #5 – Bump Modes & Finishing Patrick

ArtRage #6 Painting SpongeBob

Famous Artists Cartoon Course > Lesson 17: Kids

2009-11-01T04:00:21Z

Thanks again to Leo Brodie for making this month’s PDF.
Lesson 17: Kids

How to Draw Monsters! with ‘Scary’ Harry Borgman

2009-10-29T15:07:29Z

Only two more sleeps ’til Hallowe’en, kiddies! If you youngsters need a little help drawing monsters, then Monsterman ‘Scary’ Harry Borgman can help.

Way back in 1974 Harry drew a little booklet called “How to Draw Monsters”. By then, Harry had been drawing cars, people, landscapes and just about anything else you can think of for more than three decades. Harry began his commercial art career in Detroit in 1946.

In the early 70’s not only was Harry drawing cartoon Draculas… he also drew some gorgeous realistic Dracula illustrations for a book called “Great Tales of Horror and Suspense”.

Harry’s varied career has given him a wealth of esoteric experiences. For instance, though he was never one of “Mad’s maddest artists” he was one of Sick’s sickest artists. The cartoon creeps below are a great example of his ’sick skills’.

Harry is now 81 and still going strong. In fact, he’s just celebrated the first anniversary of his blog. Drop by Harry Borgman’s Art Blog and you’ll see for yourself that this amazing illustrator can teach you how to draw monsters… and a whole lot more!

* I’ll be featuring a dozen scans from “How to Draw Monsters” on my own blog on Saturday October 31st, but you can preview them all ( and tons of other amazing Harry Borgman art) in my Harry Borgman Flickr set.

Posted by Leif Peng on Drawn! The Illustration and Cartooning Blog | Permalink | 2 comments
Tags: Dracula, Frankenstein, halloween, Harry Borgman, monsters, Sick

There and Back Again

2009-10-28T07:00:25Z

The road between analog and digital is a two-way street for a lot of cartoonists these days.

Bringing it home this week: A shop talk video featuring Doug TenNapel (via a tweet by Kazu) and an email from artist Nate Simpson about his use of the Cintiq.

TenNapel’s video covers many of the same techniques my generation was using 20 years ago—right down to the Windsor-Newton finest sable #3—but with a difference. Mr. T. is perfectly comfortable using digital tools (has in the past, might in the future) he just prefers the traditional ones right now, and his affection for them shows in the video.

Meanwhile, Simpson has fallen head-over-heels in love with his tablet monitor and has been producing some amazing art and discussing process over at his blog for a while. 100% digital and happy as a clam.

Both are talented artists. Both have set foot on both analog and digital soil. Now they’re settling on whichever patch of land is making them happy. And if they ever want to pull up stakes and go back, they know the way.

I remember when that two-way street was a dirt path.

Guarded by Trolls.

How To Write Comics And Graphic Novels by Dennis O’Neil #5 – Network King

2009-10-28T13:00:25Z

This week, we’re lowering our foreheads and eschewing discussions of aesthetics and craft to blather a bit about selling the damn stuff. Sorry to disillusion he more tender-minded among you, but writing for a large audience–doing any creative thing for a large audience–is always going to be somewhat about money, and those who have it, and convincing them that you are The Man or The Woman. (Remember: while he was painting the big ceiling, Michelangelo had to deal with Pope Julius II, not his favorite person, who owned the ceiling and probably paid for the paints.)

A quick digression: Yeah, I hate this too. I’m not good at self-promotion, small talk, networking, building a fan base… any of that. If I were a beginner today, that might be a serious problem for me. But if I were a professional, I’d have to either find a way to get it done or con someone into doing it for me.

End of digression and on to the subject of springboards. I don’t think I can do better than to quote my old friend, colleague, once and perhaps future co-teacher, Danny Fingeroth, who currently conducts a class titled How to Write Comics and Graphic Novels at The Museum of Comic and Cartoon Art in New York City. (And if you hurry, you can still register for the current sessions.) Danny?

A springboard is a short–no more than 1/4 or 1/3 of a page–summary of your story, designed to give the key story points and what the story is thematically about. It’s designed to sell your story to an editor (not a consumer), so therefore you must give away the story’s secrets and twists. You must do this as intriguingly and entertainingly–and as briefly–as possible.

This odd entity, this mini-story, is what you present to an editor when you want to convince him (her) that you are capable of delivering work that will please readers. In days of yore, and perhaps in certain instances now, a springboard wasn’t always necessary. Once the writer had established a relationship with an editor, a conversation would suffice. And in days even further yore (yoreier?) what we’re calling a “springboard” would have been virtually indistinguishable from a plot, provided the writer was working in the method established by Stan Lee at the fledgling Marvel Comics. In this approach, the writer did a plot, which was given to a penciller, who rendered the visual narrative onto art board. The art board (later, photocopies of it) was given to the writer, who then wrote appropriate dialogue and captions and, usually, took the process a step further and drew the balloons and caption boxes onto the artwork with non-photographable le blue pencil. (Once photocopies became the norm–this will not astonish you–our writer drew balloons and boxes onto the copies using…I dunno–pointed stick dipped in mud? Whatever.)

That was then, and then is not now. I’m told that Stan’s method isn’t much used these days, and if it is, I’d bet that what’s given to the artist is a lot more than a springboard. The last time I worked like this–and remember, I’m a lazy sod not given to unnecessary labor–my plot (for a Daredevil story) exceeded a page. When I edited Doug Moench, he’d send me plots that might run 25 pages for a 22-page story. (Doug is emphatically not a lazy sod.) We might remember that when Stan was enmeshed in creating Marvel, collaborated with guys like Jack Kirby and Steve Ditko, who really understood visual narrative. Maybe someone less experienced should move further along the learning curve before adopting the so-called “Marvel style.”

At the end of the day, there ain’t no right and/or wrong in these matters. There’s what works here and now, in these circumstances, and what doesn’t.

Dennis O’Neil teaches a ten week course on Writing Comics And Graphic Novels at the New York University. Classes are every Wednesday evening from 6.45pm to 9pm, starting tonight. For further information, please call NYU’s School of Professional and Continuing Studies at Studies at 212 9987200

How To Write Comics And Graphic Novels by Dennis O’Neil #4 – Why Don’t You Grow A Spine?

2009-10-21T13:00:49Z

Photo by Ed Catto

Has it been a week already? Since I gave you a structure for a one-issue story and promised to address the problems of serialized stories in a future installment of whatever-this-is?

Why, I do believe it has. So–

As I mentioned last time, single-issue stories are relatively uncommon in mainstream comics these days, a situation that may or may not persist. But some of what applies to a self-contained story applies equally to one that stretches from here to yonder. Mainly: keep the plot moving and keep the action interesting. Many stories will fall naturally into three sections; hence, the three-ac structure familiar to movie and theater people, a version of which I presented last week.

Now, let us agree, again, with Robert McKee, and stipulate that in the wordsmith dodge, there are no rules, only principles. Having so stipulated, I hereby present rules for writing long-form stories. Hey, I’ve got an idea–let’s call them nonrules!

Non-rule 1: Have enough stories to fill the allotted number of pages.

Don’t pad or stretch. This requires, of course, that you have at least some notion of the tales you’re planning to tell when you type the opening sentence.

Non-rule 2: There must be a major change, development or reverse in every issue.

Don’t mark time. It is a mistake, as John Truby warns, to merely visit your characters, look in on ‘em, see what they’re having for breakfast…If the scene doesn’t move the plot or establish character, it has no business in your story. Each installment must have one turning point/surprise. In each, hero must accomplish something.

Example? Sure. Here’s a workable structure for a four-issue mini-series:

Issue 1. Hero learns of/defines problem. Encounters first opposition.

Issue 2: Hero begins to seek solution. Opposition intensifies.

Issue 3: Hero finds solution. Opposition intensifies.

Issue 4: Hero solves problem.

Nothing here that’s a Word From On High. You might want to have your protagonist find his solution in the final issue, for example. But–another note: It’s a good idea to end the issue on a reason for reader to continue buying series. Put the hero in some dire predicament, present the hero with a vexatious question…You get the idea.

Beginning with issue two, it’s desirable to provide enough exposition for the reader to understand immediate situation. Learn from television, those shows that open with something like, “Previously on Leo Tolstoy’s War and Peace…” followed by a minute of enough stuff to allow newcomers some orientation. I’m not suggesting you do the TV thing exactly; some of you clever devils will figure out ways to incorporate the exposition into the narrative, maybe.

Which brings us to

Non-rule 3: Know the ending when you begin.

This is always important and most important in this form. Here are a couple of potential dangers.

1. When you figure out best ending, previous installments are too far along to change. This, of course, assumes that you don’t have the luxury of completing the whole series before the first issue is in print. In my (admittedly) crusty experience, one often didn’t.

2. You might bore readers because material they’re reading has nothing to do with narrative spine.

Narrative spine?

I encountered this useful term in William Goldman’s excellent book, Adventures in the Screen Trade, but the definition below is my slight reworking of Goldman’s idea. (This does not mean you shouldn’t read Goldman’s book, which is both informative and highly enjoyable.)

Okay, narrative spine: the sequence of events leading to inevitable conclusion.

A final note and then I’ll get out of your hair: the “inevitable conclusion” mentioned above does not mean that there is only one ending for any given story and hence you can’t have a better idea after you’ve worked out your initial plot. You can. But a new ending must be as logical, and at least seem to be as inevitable, as the original.

Next week, springboards.

Dennis O’Neil teaches a ten week course on Writing Comics And Graphic Novels at the New York University. Classes are every Wednesday evening from 6.45pm to 9pm. For further information, please call NYU’s School of Professional and Continuing Studies at 212 998 7200.

Nothing Is More Dangerous Than a Guru

2009-10-16T18:04:46Z

One final bit of advice to webcartoonists, to close out this week: you should beware anybody who tries to build a career and a name brand for him/herself writing blog posts (or books, or whatever) giving you business advice. Including me! Professional self-help gurus are the worst, and webcomics is much better off without them. I like to think I’m not really that guy. I’m just a guy who has been around this particular set of blocks a few times, who occasionally comes up with some thoughts (I had a lot of thoughts this week, but I don’t always blog so much about business). When I have thoughts that might be worthwhile, I’ll share them. Nobody, but nobody, is required to agree with me!

Nothing could be more boring and dangerous than a guru. Don’t hand over the dreaming of your dreams or the planning of your plans to anybody. Test everything you read against your own instincts. And most of all: have fun!

Webcomic Promotion: Why You Might as Well Give Up

2009-10-15T10:05:14Z

It’s difficult to make a living in any art form. There are twenty thousand wannabe actors who are still waiting tables at the age of forty for every one Brad Pitt. For every true genius, for every Marlon Brando, there are one million six hundred thousand and seventy two sad waiters, standing over by the credenza, hands clasped behind their backs, dreaming of what might have been, and wondering if they should recommend the chicken tonight, or the fish. You might even say that no actor ever succeeds, because the ones who do are such a small subset as to be statistically insignificant. And that’s a multi-billion dollar industry with an established business model and a proven pathway to success. Same with music. Same with television. Same with, oh, I don’t know, mime. Same with every other art form you can name. Webcomics? Pah. You might as well give up.

And another thing. Webcomics is a level playing field, but that makes it a fractious one, too, shaking and screaming with competitive rage. Anybody and everybody around you will take advantage of every weakness they can find. Especially if you look like you might succeed. The moment you have the slightest bit of success — and I mean the slightest bit of success — you’ll be the subject of somebody else’s mad-on. Manifestos (manifesti?) will be written denouncing your very existence. People will send you pictures of their gun collections and mention that they look forward to seeing you at your booth at [insert name of comic book convention]. They’ll be sure to let you know that they’ve memorized your booth number, and maybe even that they know which hotel you’re staying at. You think I’m exaggerating, don’t you? You’ll see. You’ll see. And bloggers will ridicule every single thing you say. They’ll make fun of your weight, your looks, your friends, your family, your sexual practices, and even your little dog, too. They’ll question your business success, and spit on your dreams. Why will they do this? Because they’re bloggers, of course. Because that’s what they do: mess with your head, if you let them, just because they can. Just because you’re there. Just because you’re doing what they thought they wanted to do (but they didn’t want to work hard enough, or weren’t talented enough, or whatever, to get there). And even the other people who have had a little success, or even a lot of success, the ones who aren’t jealous, who can’t possibly be, will often — not all of them, not always, but often enough — view you with mistrust and fear. It’s worse than high school. It’s worse than the pressure and pettiness of any regular office job. And you’ll probably still have one of those too, by the way, for at least the first few years, and probably for the first decade or two or three. Who needs that kind of hassle? You might as well give up.

And another thing. What if you happen to find a few readers? That’s the worst thing in the world that could happen. They never stop wanting more, the readers. The damned readers! Nothing annoys like a reader! Gods! Let’s say you manage, just once, by reaching as far into your soul as you possibly can, to cough up the funny (or the tragic, or the dramatic, or the whatever you’ve promised your readers you’d cough up), and lay it out on a page, a beautiful, bloody, bony piece of yourself you can never have back once you’ve released it into the world — one time. Something that never existed before, that couldn’t have existed without you. Just once. That’s something. That’s amazing. That’s more than most artists (or “artists”) are able to accomplish in their entire lives. One time. One day. One strip. Guess what? Tomorrow, or next Wednesday, or whatever (depending on the schedule you’ve set for yourself), you’ve got to do it again. And then again. And then again. And again, and again, and again. And if you haven’t set a fairly frenzied schedule, if you don’t update often enough, nobody will bother reading your comic. On the other hand, if you set an ambitious schedule, but you don’t bring your heart to the table every time, if you don’t tear yourself up and break yourself down and make it really matter, every single time, if you just offer filler when you’re uninspired, just to hit that update schedule, nobody will bother reading your comic. You’re screwed either way. You might as well give up.

Oh yeah. One more thing. Let’s say you do manage to make enough money with your webcomic, somehow, to “make a living.” What does that get you? For the most part, even if you’re lucky enough to “make a living,” you’re still firmly in the middle class at best, and you’re very probably in the lower middle class. There’s a reason most of the webcartoonists who make a living with their work don’t live in expensive cities; they can’t afford them. I spoke with a reasonably popular webcartoonist not so terribly long ago, a couple of years ago, someone you have heard of, someone you probably think of as a superstar, and she told me that her dream was to make at least $30K that year from her webcomic. $30K. In a major metropolitan area where the median income, the median is higher than that. Which means that secretaries probably make more than that. Janitors probably make more than that. The manager at McDonald’s definitely makes more than that. And you aren’t nearly as talented, or as attractive, or as intelligent, or as much of a publicity hound and businessperson, as this particular cartoonist. Your prospects are even slimmer. You’re likely to make much more money working a regular nine-to-five office job, than you would making a webcomic. You’re likely to make more money hanging out in front of Home Depot picking up day labor! You might as well give up.

Yup. It’s hopeless. You might as well give up. You might as well give up. You know what you might as well do? Give up.

Have you given up yet? Good. Because if I was able to talk you out of it so easily, with one stupid blog post, then you didn’t have what it takes. Not everybody gets to make a living at webcomics, because not everybody is talented enough and determined enough to do so. And guess what? That’s just fine. You’re better off where you are. Making a living at webcomics is hard, it’s unlikely, it’s the most impossible thing you could ever decide to do for a living, and in order to stand a chance you have to want it so badly that you’re willing to push through anything, anybody, any time, push beyond human reason and common sense, and then push a little harder, even, than that, if you’re going to really commit yourself to the grueling effort that is required to succeed at webcomics (or at any art, but maybe especially webcomics). So yeah. One blog post and you’re out? Cool. You can still read them, you know, and enjoy them. That’s what they’re there for! Also: please stop reading this post now. Thanks.

And if you haven’t given up yet?

Congratulations, you damn fool. You sad case. You crazy-rare and beautiful creature. You really are a webcartoonist. You are the one we’ve been waiting for. You will show us new ways to look at the world. You will stand shoulder to shoulder with giants. You will give us, your readers and fans, what we didn’t remember forgetting to need from our comics, from our art, from our entertainment, from our lives. That is the job description, and you’re the one to do the job. I just know it! And those other paragraphs up there, forget those, okay? They were placed there very strategically, to scare off everybody else. The secret is this, the thing I didn’t want them to read: there is no job more awesome than a job, any job, in webcomics. I’m not a cartoonist, but I’ve managed, against all odds, to make a full-time living in the field, as a publisher, as a coder, as a hosting provider, and as that most annoying and useless and stupid of all things in the world, a blogger, for almost eight years now, and I’m still going strong. It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And it will be for you, too. Welcome to the club. Happy to make your acquaintance.

Adobe Illustrator Cartoon Inking Tutorials - Now in ONE Convenient Playlist!

2009-10-12T18:44:00Z

The Adobe Illustrator Cartoon Inking tutorials I created a few months ago have been a big hit on YouTube...thanks to everybody that left comments and ratings!

From some of the questions I get, I realized that it isn't very easy to find all the tutorials in one place, so I created a "Playlist" on YouTube that includes all the videos:

Even though you can watch them
on YouTube, I recommend you
use the list below to watch them
(with written and visual commentary)
in a LARGER, high-resolution format...
right here on the CartoonSnap blog:

here is the COMPLETE list of all eleven

Adobe Illustrator

High-Resolution

"Freehand Brush
Cartoon Inking Tutorial Videos":

#1 - How to Set Up and Import Images

#2 - Palette Options and Settings

#3 - Freehand Calligraphic BRUSH Tool

#4 - We Start INKING in Illustrator!

#5 - How to Use Shapes & Ellipse Tool

#6 - How to Use Illustrator Graphic Styles

#7 - Working With Reshape Tool and Layers

#8 - Arrange, Transform, Reflect in Action
#9 - Picking Up The Pace

#10 - Finishing SpongeBob Inking

#11 - Inking Patrick and onward to Photoshop

Because of the way that Illustrator is usually taught, a lot of people have no idea that you can do beautiful freehand cartoon inking with the freehand brush tool in Adobe Illustrator. If you want to quickly learn to do digital cartoon inking in Illustrator, you're gonnna love these videos.

Milton Glaser on drawing, while drawing

2009-10-12T18:14:17Z

Watch and listen as the legendary Milton Glaser draws and talks about the act of drawing.

Posted by John Martz on Drawn! The Illustration and Cartooning Blog | Permalink | One comment
Tags: Drawing, Milton Glaser, video

Maurice Sendak on what being an illustrator means

2009-10-14T15:32:07Z

I’m not the only one ’round these parts with Where the Wild Things Are fever am I? I didn’t think so.

Here’s a priceless video of Maurice Sendak describing what being an illustrator of stories means to him, and what his role is as part of the story-telling process. The video was produced by the Rosenbach Museum & Library in Philadelphia – the sole repository of Sendak’s original artwork, manuscripts and ephemera.

In fact, the Rosenbach Museum’s YouTube page has several more clips and interviews with Sendak, all worth a look while you whet your appetite for the film.

Posted by John Martz on Drawn! The Illustration and Cartooning Blog | Permalink | 7 comments
Tags: Illustration, Maurice Sendak, storytelling, video, Where the Wild Things Are

Why we should be teaching comics: wherein I preach to the choir

2009-10-14T17:43:18Z

First, thanks to John Hogan at Graphic Novel Reporter for getting the word out about Reading With Pictures, a new not-for-profit organization working to get comics into classrooms and to make resources on comics literacy available for educators and researchers. This is a huge and very necessary undertaking, and I can't think of anyone better suited to head it up than Josh Elder, Peter Gutiérrez, David Rapp, and John Shableski. (Katie Doland, Director of Operations, I don't know you, but I hope I will soon!)

You can help support this project in a number of ways, but for starters, how about you head on over to IdeaBlob.com, and vote for this project to win a $10,000 grant! Go, register, vote! I understand voting ends tonight at midnight, so don't delay.

This excellent project got me thinking, a little, about what it means to teach (with) comics. I don't claim to know much about the pedagogical or developmental advantages of getting kids comfortable with the language of comics. I'd be shocked to learn that there aren't a number of them, but I'm no expert.

But what I am an expert in, like many of you, is reading and loving comic books. And that's in large part possible because I've been reading comics since before I could read. I probably learned the language of comics - the visual idioms and rules of order and symbolism and meaning - before I learned to read my spoken language of English. I can't remember a time when I have not felt utterly comfortable diving into a well-written, well-ordered page of comics; I love that feeling of being in harmonious communication with the creator of a comic.

It's easy for me to take this for granted, because so many of the people I spend my time with - friends, co-workers, and family - are in the same boat: comics-literate and comics-loving. We speak a common language, and view the world through rosy, speech-balloon-shaped glasses in which comics naturally take their place in the pantheon of the arts along with poetry, music, painting, dance, etc. Obviously in the context of American society at large we aren't there yet, but in my little personal microcosm, we sure as heck are.

Which is why it's always a bit of a shock - and a pang - to find myself in conversation with someone who doesn't know how to read comics. Not just "doesn't read comics" but doesn't know how. "Oh," the conversation usually goes, "they make my head hurt. I can't figure out what the order is, I don't know where to look next. It's just too confusing."

For a while this sort of thing just baffled me. It was like talking about food with someone and having them say, "Oh, I just can't figure this 'eating' thing out. Where does it go? In my ear? My nose? It's just too confusing."

It. Blew. My. Mind.

But I got to thinking about it, and, well, okay. Comics have a language, a symbol-system. It's easier to figure out than hieroglyphics, but that doesn't mean you can just dive in and enjoy yourself if you've never looked at a comic before, never taken the time to work out the rules of order and sequence and visual symbolism. It's like trying to do the New York Times crossword puzzle if you don't know that an answer is always the same part of speech as its clue. Either someone explains it to you, or you figure it out after a while. But you can't instantly intuit these rules any more than you can instantly intuit the rules of comics.

Kids figure these things out faster, and internalize them better, than adults, with those crazy-flexible brains of theirs. But an adult who's never read any comics - never learned the language, never became literate in this idiom - she isn't going to be able to pick up Fun Home and effortlessly sink into it. It's going to be a labor, maybe enough of one that she's going to give up after a few pages and go back to reading novels, or poetry, or science journals, or sheet music.

Or maybe she won't, maybe she'll persevere, and make it through Fun Home, and go on to Persepolis, and Scott Pilgrim, and The Photographer, and French Milk, and maybe a comics reader will be born.

But that's sort of like taking someone who's never read a line of poetry or looked at a painting and handing them Musée des Beaux Arts and waiting for a poetry or art lover to be born. Maybe it will happen! It could! But it probably won't, not with someone who hasn't had at least some kind of early exposure to these art forms. Our brains get all crusty and stiff, when we grow up. (Yes, that's a scientific fact!) It's harder open yourself up to new languages of expression, as the years go on.

All right, but so what? Who cares? I mean, comics professionals care, because it translates to fewer readers (and fewer creators). But why should novel/poetry/data/music-reading Jane Doe care that she never learned to read a comic? She's a teacher/poet/astronaut/farmer/conductor. She doesn't need comics to enrich her already rich life.

BUT SHE DOES!

There are things you can say, things you can do, with comics, that you can't say or do any other way, just as there are things you can say or do with music or literature or an elegant proof that you can't say or do any other way. There are comics that can change your life. And you'll never know about them if you can't even read them.

There's nothing fundamentally different about teaching comics literacy to kids than teaching them the basics of poetry, art, music, math, science, reading - even running. When we educate children, we are giving them the tools to educate themselves. To find the things they love. To experience the world more fully.

And as long as there are people making amazing comics in the world, anyone who lacks the basic tools to read them is missing out. Big time.

Photos taken without permission from:
http://www.nicholastrofimuk.com/photogenesis/photos_all.php?photographerid=
http://www.bigshinyrobot.com/reviews/archives/269
http://cartoonsnap.blogspot.com/2009/09/storyboard-art-by-irv-spector.html

http://joshinthecity.wordpress.com/category/words/page/45/
http://pwbeat.publishersweekly.com/blog/2008/03/24/the-truth-about-comics/

How to Pen and Ink (Comikers) and Inky Inky Ink (Our Blogger Asks For Feedback)

2009-10-14T18:57:00Z

by Yasuhiro Nightow (Author), Oh! great (author), Satoshi Shiki (Author), Comikers (Author)
Currently available here for only seven dollars! It is otherwise sadly out of print in paper.

This is, hands down, my favorite art book. I have two copies, because I've worn out one.

If you're curious about how a mangaka draws, inks, or tones, then this is the book for you. This is a compilation of various Comiker articles, tutorials, interviews, how-to-articles, and surveys. They include, among other things, a long list of responses of what various artists use to ink their manga (type of ink, type of nib, favorite pen, erasers, and so on). I love that kind of detail! It's extremely useful to know, for instance, that some artists prefer quick drying ink because they draw more freehand and that others like slower drying but waterproof ink.

I solved some of my own difficulties by switching to a ink that worked better for the technique I was trying to use.

But besides being obsessively wonderful in detail, this book includes some pictures that are just damn cool. Want to see an artist go from basic layout pencil to perfected pencil to inked panels? They do this! And not just Joe Random Mangaka, they get great artists--Oh great, who does the back cover, is shown drawing and inking and toning the image. But it's Satoshi Shiki's work which makes my heart sing:

Check out the work on that eye! It's fucking gorgeous. It just is. The line work! The thin-fat-thin! The eye lashes! The way the focus creates a widening eye effect! *happy sigh*

The previous page, which I didn't scan but should have, shows him drawing the thing in pencils. *insert second happy sigh* Unfortunately, I cannot find any of his work translated into English and I'm not sure what magazine his current story is being run in. (Should some kind commenter know, I would be grateful for the info....)

Where was I? Oh yes. The purpose of the book and why the heck I'm talking about it.

The book focuses on training the artist to use pen and ink skillfully, and furthermore, to use it the way that mangaka use it. A technical college wrote a wonderful tutorial designed to teach these techniques. This mini-school is worth the cover price of the book. It covers thin-fat-thin, using the pens to draw speed lines, creating effect line, varying character emphasis, inking for emotion, and much more.

One thing I love about the Japanese art books that I own is their emphasis on practice and their slow and careful steps. This book, like many other Japanese books, suggests copying the work of your favorite mangaka in order to learn. This is useful because it allows the hands to learn how to compose a page. It is also wonderful because it does not require the budding artist to work on all the techniques (underdawing, composition, placement, plot, character development, and on and on), but instead allows the artist to focus on mastering a single skill, inking. They mention, in their tutorial or the introduction, that they assign student the task of just making long, smooth lines freehand. Page after page of them until the student can do it easily and freely.

That may sound restraining and lacking creativity, but if what you want is to know that you can trust your hand to create the images in your heart, then it is a wonderful way to learn.

So here is an example of the tutorial so you can judge for yourself:

In any case, I feel strongly that this book is AWESOME. Which leads me into the second portion of my topic.

As you might guess, I'm a bit of an ink whore. I love ink. Adore it. Hug it. Collect it.

'Uh, collect it?' you may ask warily. Yes! Collect it. You see, in my copious spare time (when I'm not working overtime or going to grad school full time), I like to ink comics. I find it relaxing. I don't, you know, post it anywhere. I ink and then when I'm done, I set the inked pages in a big box and when the box gets full, I recycle it. Sometimes I send it to friends. But mostly I don't. Like I said, I just do it to relax. But like any good obsessive little comic addict, I have my preferences and my weird habits. So I have a lot of ink. I have, at last count, something like a dozen kinds of ink. Deleter 1-6 of course, and some Sumi ink, and some Higgins Ink, and my hoarded and beloved Pilot Drawing Ink (only available in Japan), and IC Comic ink, and um, some others that I forget. Windsor Newton and stuff? I don't know. Not to mention the white ink.

So I'm going to review the inks. My thought was to draw a few panels in each ink, scan at least one page worth, and also draw some strictly technical panels (effect lines, for instance). I'm not sure if any artists read this or would find it useful, but I live in hope. I plan to include the following in each example page:

A character close up and one mid-sized
Something emotive
Place, building, interior
Effect lines or background hatching
Fine detail (flowers, fine shading)
Flowing lines (hair or clothing)

After I've reviewed several inks, I thought I'd have some cage matches. You know, put two inks together and draw the same thing with them and let you all vote as to which was better at hatching or speedlines.

What do you all think? Are there any aspects that would be most helpful? I plan to include in each review the strengths and weaknesses of the inks (to me), their waterproofness, their smear level, and how they work (ease of control, etc).

On Criticism

2009-10-14T07:00:25Z

Lately, I’ve been thinking about the role of criticism, specifically negative reviews of comics and how they tend to be received by the creative individuals involved.

For myself, I always consider reviews useful—even the hatchet jobs. It makes my heart sink a little when I hear other artists dismiss all reviews as irrelevant to their process. A common claim is that reviews tell us “only about the reviewer” and tell us “nothing about the work,” but I disagree. Yes, reviewers have biases. Yes, they miss the point sometimes. But there’s always some kind of information embedded in any reaction to any creative effort.

Take an extreme example:

Suppose you’re a cartoonist, and ten years ago you made a casual remark about some political issue in an interview or on a panel. A stranger decides they don’t like you, based entirely on this one remark.

Ten years later, you’ve just published your first graphic novel. You’ve poured your heart into it. It’s a thousand pages long, it’s everything you wanted it to be. And an online review site hires that same stranger to review the book.

Still upset about the political remark you made a decade earlier, the stranger-turned-critic savages your magnum opus, tears it to shreds, all the while clearly referencing a perceived political position which has nothing to do with the book, and is nowhere in the book. All negatives. No positives. All based on that one remark from ten years ago.

If you were that cartoonist, you could easily dismiss such a review. You could easily say that a bitter, biased, petty review like that is a classic example of a completely useless review, that it told you “only about the reviewer” and told you “nothing about the work.”

But you’d be wrong.

Because even in that extreme example there was a vital piece of information about your work that was worth paying attention to: The simple fact that your art and/or story were insufficiently powerful to overcome a grudge.

And that’s information worth having.

How To Make a Living With Webcomics

2009-10-07T15:29:16Z

So this is a quick post, because the answer is far simpler than you may have heard. There are two steps, and only two steps.

1. Make a great comic.
2. Make it very popular.

You may think I’m being silly, that this is the equivalent of those instructions on becoming a millionaire that start with “first, get a million dollars.” But I’m dead serious, and the above information is sorely lacking from much of the online chatter on this topic.

If you do those two things, and in that order, money will attach itself to your work. Your comic will create its own business models.

Honestly, come to think of it, (2) is the only actual requirement, but (1) definitely helps you achieve (2) in most cases.

You want to know what will not help you make a living with webcomics? Obsessing over anything other than making a great comic, and making it popular. That includes fighting with people on messageboards and blog comment threads; or even quietly and nervously checking your success against somebody else’s; reading books and blog posts about how to make a living with webcomics (including this one); arguing with other people about books and blog posts about how to make a living with webcomics; and etc. You know, all the things that are tempting to do because they are easy distractions from the real work at hand.

But here’s the good news. It’s all about you. You have the power to do these two things. You just have to learn how to make a great comic, and you have to learn how to make it popular. Both require nothing but hard work and constant attention, and those are certainly things you are capable of. All of us are.

How to “Break In” to the Comics Industry

2009-10-08T13:31:50Z

There’s this quote that floats around about “breaking in” to the corporate comics industry. “The comics industry is like a high-security government installation. Nobody gets in the same way twice, because after they find out you got in, they seal up that entrance.” Or something like that. I wish I could remember who it is attributed to. Gail Simone, maybe?

There’s another answer. The only infinitely-replicable way to “break into” the comics industry.

Make great comics. Publish them (online, in minicomic form, whatever). Make them popular.

People want the corporate comics industry to lift them up, to take them from where they are to where they want to be. Unfortunately, the industry wants creators who are already, you know, there. The corporate comics industry doesn’t exist to fulfill the dreams of its freelancers, or even of its readers. It exists to risk money in order to make more money. Just like any business. If you approach these people from a position of strength — established readers, a brand name, a strong aesthetic and personal style — if, in other words, you don’t need them, then, yeah, you’ll get anything and everything you want from them.

This is good news. Because thanks to the web, and to the comics community’s long tradition of print self-publishing (comics is one of the few forms of media where self-publishing isn’t considered a nasty sadness), you have the power within yourself to make all of this stuff happen for you. That’s the most powerful position you will find, as a newcomer, in any creative field.

Which isn’t to say that working in corporate comics is a bad thing. It’s just that they don’t want you until you don’t need them. And, again, that, too, is a very powerful position for you to be in. I want to make sure that this doesn’t come across as negative. I want you to understand that everything is up to you.