Comic-Con Sketches @ Home

Examples of past years' efforts: Batman.

Scarecrow of Romney Marsh.

Sneak Preview: This is Comic-Con week, and although I won't be in San Diego, I will help raise some money for the Cartoon Art Museum by doing drawings for people willing to chip in $20 (or more!) for one. THE SIGN-UP SITE GOES LIVE TOMORROW! Your favorite cartoonists will draw pretty much anything you want, within the bounds of decency and legality.

I've committed to doing three, and in past years they've sold out fast. Honestly, I think I always deliver a bit more than promised in terms of the time I put in, color I add, etc. I do my best because that's the only setting I've got. In the past, I've also been talked into doing one or two extra, but don't count on that. Sign up fast! Wednesday, 5 p.m.! 

I'll be missing my friends in San Diego this year. Someone please eat a cold rubbery $8 pretzel for me.

The two garbagemen from "The Burbs."

Hawkeye.

The Plate of Tomorrow of Yesterday

\Today's Antique Store Find: a beautiful commemorative plate from the 1939 World's Fair! The World of Tomorrow! Peak Art Deco! 

Friends with long memories may recall that I posted about a nearly identical plate I found several years ago. That was before the fire. I never really expected to see another again, until Karen and I were shopping today and I emitted a strangled "AAAAHH!" while pointing speechlessly into a cabinet. Karen rushed over to make sure I was fine. I was better than fine.

By the way, I am not oblivious or indifferent to the current political drama. Sometimes that's when light posts about plates are needed the most.

On Genre

Me in the Library of Congress, just because.

I've had a quick correspondence with a college librarian writing a research paper on "genre use and promotion both in libraries and outside of library settings" with an eye toward improving how the Library of Congress categorizes books. She wanted input from authors in unusual genres and I was happy to oblige.

I answered her questions as best I could and liked one of them enough that I asked if I could post it here. I think it's a good summary of how I approach the job. I have no idea if my perspective is common or ideal. It's just mine. 

. . . . . . . 

1. What is your philosophy/reason behind creating works in various genres and subgenres? What purposes are you hoping genres will serve for your audiences?

First, just to clarify (and I suspect we’re on the same page here), I don’t consider comics or graphic novels a genre, which is worth mentioning because many people do. They are a medium that encompasses many genres, including those you mention: science fiction, nonfiction, memoir, etc.

That out of the way, I don’t know how to answer this question and I doubt many authors would. We write the stories we want or need to write. I’ve given almost no thought to which genre I’m working in or onto which shelf a bookstore or library will place my work. As Orson Welles said to a critic who asked him to analyze one of his films, “I’m the bird. You’re the ornithologist.”

That may be professional malpractice on my part.

I’ve written two graphic novels that I’d call nonfiction memoir (Mom’s Cancer and A Fire Story). Mom’s Cancer also crosses into graphic medicine, a subgenre that didn’t exist when I wrote it. I’ve seen A Fire Story described as a work of “climate grief,” which may become a notable subgenre of its own if climate change goes as projected. I’ve called my second book, Whatever Happened to the World of Tomorrow, historical fiction but don’t know if that’s accurate (I wanted to call it a “graphic polemic” but my publisher wouldn’t let me). My latest, The Last Mechanical Monster, is straight-up science fiction/fantasy.

Each was a story I felt compelled to tell, and which genre it fell into barely crossed my mind.

(I did devote quite a bit of time and thought deciding if Last Mechanical Monster was science fiction or fantasy and came up with an answer that satisfied me but made no difference in the marketing, placement, or audience for the book that I could tell.)

I’d say that I don’t choose genres, genres choose me.

Likewise, I give very little thought to serving an audience when writing a book. I want to tell a good story I’d want to read and nobody but me could write. I aim to make a book my editor would want to publish and my family would be proud of. They’re my audience. I’d be thrilled if many, many other people read and love it, but that’s beyond my control so I try not to fret about it.

The only time I recall worrying about a broader audience was when my editor and I discussed whether to include an obscenity in A Fire Story. We knew it would exclude us from the young reader market but decided to include the word for journalistic authenticity and because we couldn’t think of an alternative that wasn’t stupid.

Honestly, I treat all the work I do, even my fiction, as journalism. I just try to write and draw what happened as clearly and economically as I can, even if I made it all up. As a result, my approach to memoir, graphic medicine, historical fiction, and science fiction/fantasy has been pretty much the same: tell it straight, with some tone-shifting to help readers keep their bearings. A nonfiction book about cancer should not have the same tone as a light fantasy about a giant robot.

Nathan Hale--No, Not That One

A quick selfie with Nathan in the Schulz Museum's lobby before his talk.

I went to the Schulz Museum this afternoon to see cartoonist and bestselling author Nathan Hale. I know him a bit--we've done some events and eaten some meals together--and I think he's one of the nicest and hardest working people in comics. 

Appropriately given his name (yes it's real), Nathan writes and draws historical graphic novels for kids under the series title "Hazardous Tales." He's also started a new series unrelated to his historical work that looks fun and charming. He says he does about 1.5 books a year, which is a prodigious output. 

He's one of the two best comics-related public speakers I've seen. The other is Scott McCloud. He filled the museum's little theater to capacity and held his audience rapt throughout.

Nathan does what used to be called a "chalk talk," in which he speaks and draws at the same time, except instead of a chalkboard or easel he uses a tablet connected to a screen. Chalk talks are a lost art; they used to be a common tool in the cartoonists' tool box but kind of faded away half a century ago. 

Nathan is confident and polished without being slick. You can tell he's done this talk a hundred times but it seems fresh, and he's able to roll with the crowd's responses and mood. Today's subject was Lewis & Clark, and he had his young fans squealing with laughter while imparting real knowledge. 

For example, he did a fun riff on Sacagawea rolling her eyes and scoffing at Lewis & Clark's excitement to "discover" flora and fauna her people had known for centuries, then backtracked to explain how she wouldn't have actually made that joke because everything she said had to be translated from Hidatsa to French to English and back again. Toward the end he pivoted from (historically accurate) poop jokes to a moving account of how Lewis & Clark gave both Sacagawea and Clark's slave York equal votes on group decisions, a quietly revolutionary act in the early 1800s. 

Great smart stuff. If you get a chance to see Nathan Hale speak, take it, and if you're in a position to invite him to give a talk, do it. Meanwhile, I'll be working on my chalk talk.

Toward the end of Nathan's chalk talk. This quick sketch shows York and Sacagawea voting on Corps of Discovery business. Lewis and Clark are the little figures on the sides wearing fancy captain's hats.

"Poppies will put them to sleep..."

Here's a little study I did of California poppies for a personal project, nothing meant for publication. 

Golden poppy flowers are easy: four yellow-orange-red petals that fold into a cone at night and open during the day. For this piece I focused on the stem and leaf structure. The leaves are interesting, like tiny green hands with curling fingers. If you don't get them right the whole plant doesn't look right. 

The color outlines are an experiment to see if I like them. They're red and green ink drawn with a nib on watercolor paper, on top of which I watercolored. I'm not sure about them yet.

This is just a sketch I didn't intend to share, but I know some people enjoy process posts. If it turns into something good, I'll share that, too.

The Great Dictator

Photo of Charlie Chaplin in The Great Dictator, which should be required viewing now.

A point I haven't seen someone make yet:* for the entire Biden presidency, the right-wing has accused him of being a dictator. Just a week ago, North Dakota Gov. Doug Burgum was railing against the "Biden Dictatorship" on CNN. 

Yet now that the Supreme Court has handed President Biden actual honest-to-goodness dictatorial powers that he could use to murder his enemies today? Not a peep. That's because they're hypocrites who know deep down that Joe Biden is a fundamentally decent person who'd never use them. 

On the other hand, they're absolutely giddy that their guy might get to. Trump is posting lists of people he'd like to see tried for treason, starting with Rep. Nancy Pelosi, General Mark Milley, and former Rep. Liz Cheney. Think he won't do it? You haven't been paying attention. 

Look at who's celebrating the ruling and who's criticizing it. That tells you who thinks elevating presidents into all-powerful kings is a good idea and who doesn't.

.

.

*I'm sure someone has made this point, I just haven't seen it. 

Snoopy in Space Report

We had a good turnout, nearly filling the Schulz Museum's little theater. This is the beginning of the panel, when we were introduced by the museum's public program coordinator, Sara Merrick.

I had a nice afternoon at the Charles M. Schulz Museum, where my main job was to host a panel on "Snoopy in Space" with guests Bill Miklos and Dr. Jack Bacon, both of whom have decades of experience in the business of launching satellites and people into space. 

"Peanuts" has always been closely associated with NASA. The Apollo 10 command and lunar modules were named Charlie Brown and Snoopy, respectively. Also, one of the greatest honors a NASA employee can receive is a Silver Snoopy pin for their contributions to safety, which Bacon had earned. 

I see my job at these events as keeping the conversation lively and on-track, and helping the panelists make their points as best they can. You also have to keep the audience in mind; some will be very knowledgeable but others will be young and easily bored kids, which doesn't necessarily mesh with detail-oriented engineers. I think we clipped right along and put on a good show.

The panel was part of a whole day of space-related activity at the Schulz Museum, including an informational table staffed by my friends (and one daughter) from the USS Hornet Museum, as well as the museum's own "Snoopy in Space" exhibition that will be closing soon.

A good time at one of my favorite places with some of my favorite people. Got to touch base with Jeannie Schulz, museum director Gina Huntsinger, and a few friends who came out. Can't beat that.

Dr. Jack Bacon, Bill Miklos, and me. Looks like we're taking a question from the audience here. I'm wearing a t-shirt from the USS Hornet that says "Apollo 11 Lunar Team" with a picture of astronaut Snoopy. Please note that I was not actually on the Apollo 11 Lunar Team any more than Snoopy was. I'm just a fan of their work.

Snoopy in Space at the Schulz

This Saturday at 11, I will be moderating a panel at the Charles M. Schulz Museum & Research Center on "Snoopy in Orbit," with NASA expert Jack Bacon and aerospace engineer Bill Miklos, who is also a docent at the USS Hornet Sea, Air and Space Museum. Immodestly, I think I'm exactly the right person for the job because I know Peanuts, I know space, and I know the USS Hornet, whose Apollo exhibit I helped redesign several years ago. 

The panel is part of a full day of space-related activities at the Schulz Museum, including fun activities, another talk by Dr. Bacon, tables staffed by the USS Hornet and the Space Station Museum, and more! It's free with regular admission, and all the regular wonderful Peanuts art and artifacts will be there as well.

Brian says: check it out!

Graphic Medicine in Ireland

There will be a graphic medicine conference in Ireland this summer that I will not be at, but a few friends sent me this article about it from The Irish Times because they knew I'd be interested and also because I'm mentioned in it.

Mom's Cancer was in the right place and time to accidentally become a foundational text in the field of medical humanities called graphic medicine, meaning comics + healthcare. As the article describes, friends like "Comic Nurse" MK Czerwiec and Dr. Ian Williams pioneered graphic medicine after finding my book, and others like conference chair Jane Burns continue to discover it and find it helpful and inspiring. There was a time when "graphic medicine" comprised about a dozen people and we all knew each other. That's not true anymore. It's big and growing!

I remain astonished by the legacy of my family's story, not least because people still read it 20 years later. I give a few talks a year to medical students. It's routinely cited in academic journals. And it still gets mentioned in articles like this one by friends who are gracious enough to remember it. It's all enormously gratifying.

A Treasure Chest

My neighbor, Ted, is a master woodworker. His work wins ribbons at the county fair, and after the fire he made most of the tables, desks, dressers, bookcases, and other furniture for his and his wife Judy's rebuilt home. He does beautiful work.

Parallel track: I love and collect antique stereograph cards. They're like primitive ViewMaster pictures that were big entertainment in the late 19th and early 20th century. Victorians sat around their parlors peering through 3-D viewers for hours of fun. 

For years I've been looking for a little box or cabinet to store my cards in, but nothing's ever been the right size. I finally had an epiphany: maybe I could commission Ted to build me one. He jumped at the chance! With all he's built over the years, he'd never actually done a box and was eager to give it a shot. I gave him a drawing with some dimensions and encouraged him to spread his creative wings.

Here it is. I think it's fantastic. My cards fit perfectly, and I left room for more. 

Neither Ted nor Judy is on Facebook, but I wanted to acknowledge Ted's great skill and kindness publicly. It's a treasure. 

Serendipitous Art

 

I was putting my phone in my pocket after taking a photo when my finger slipped and I accidentally took another. Usually those are blurry shots of my fingers or feet and are instantly deleted, but I liked how this one turned out so much I kept it. It's a painted cinderblock wall seen through the pickets of a metal fence. If I made abstract art, this is the sort of abstract art I would make. Which I guess I did!

My Stalker

Don't look! Act completely calm and normal! Just blink twice if there's a giant Marilyn Monroe behind me. 

She's there, isn't she? I knew it! That dame just will NOT leave me alone.

Words, Images & Worlds

Here's that other podcast I alluded to: "Words, Images and Worlds" with Jason DeHart! I didn't know Jason before he asked me to guest on his show, but we have many mutual friends and he's just about the most prolific podcaster I've ever seen. Seriously, he's done hundreds of them, with some very impressive creative-type people. Also me. 

I enjoyed our conversation very much, and if you have 23 minutes to kill, you might too. Thanks, Jason.

October Sky By The Minute

I also drew their logo.

I seem to have a good side hustle in the prestigious, lucrative world of podcast guesting! I shared one podcast link a few days ago, and today drops the latest episode of "The October Sky Minute," the podcast that reviews the wonderful 1999 movie based on Homer Hickam's bestseller "Rocket Boys" one minute at a time, hosted by my friends Jim O'Kane, Hal Bryan and, for today only, me.

I love the movie and love Hal and Jim. The point of the podcast isn't to just talk about the minute of film on hand, but to invite interesting people for interesting discussions. To that end, they've landed many stars from the movie, Homer Hickam himself, and others including the president of the Estes model rocket company and an expert on picket fences (for an episode in which an errant rocket takes one out). Can't imagine why they asked me, but we ended up talking about parenthood, chemistry lab, model rocketry, and "Whatever Happened to the World of Tomorrow," so not the usual stuff from me. It was a nice genuine conversation and I think that comes through.

I did an entirely different third podcast that should be released soon. They were actually all recorded over a long stretch of time but are dropping pretty close to each other. I'm not doing ALL the podcasts, it just seems like it.

Dare to be Great

Here's a podcast I did a few weeks back with my friend, Shawn Langwell, about creativity and purpose, titled "Dare to be Great, Dare to be You."

Shawn is a local writer, as is his wife Crissi, and he gives talks and writes books in the general areas of success, motivation, confidence, self-improvement, etc. If you're interested in hearing me drone on for 54 minutes and 3 seconds about my thoughts on creativity, self-expression, fear of failure, and why I don't want to read your comic ripping off Lord of the Rings, this is the podcast for you! 

And I can understand why it wouldn't be. I just listened to it and even I'm sick of me. But Shawn is a good host and I think we had an interesting, real conversation.

Thanks, Shawn!

Rocketeer Catalog Launch

The cover of the exhibition catalog. It was a great show! Although all the auction pieces have been sent to their winning bidders' homes, CAM still has a fantastic exhibition of Stevens's original art.

I had a nice afternoon and evening in San Francisco yesterday, participating in the Cartoon Art Museum's launch party for its Rocketeer Exhibition Catalog, which commemorates an exhibition of "Rocketeer" cartoonist Dave Stevens's original art as well as tribute pieces drawn by other artists, including me, which were later auctioned off. Proceeds from the auction benefited both CAM and the Hairy Cell Leukemia Foundation in Stevens's memory. About a dozen contributors came to meet fans and sign catalogs assembly-line-style. 

I arrived more than an hour early just so I could walk around the waterfront and play tourist in San Francisco, because Why Not? The brown lumps in the foreground are hundreds of sea lions that have taken over some docks in San Francisco Bay. The multicolored lumps in the background are hundreds of people on Pier 39 watching them bark and bellow. I'm on Pier 41, which I had pretty much to myself.

I love the Musee Mecanique, tucked into a warehouse in the back corner of Fisherman's Wharf. It's a haphazard collection of old arcade machines ranging from the 1800s to Pac-Man. Admission is free, most of the games cost 25 cents to play. I spent $2 and had a wonderful time. Highly recommended!

Dave Stevens's sister, Jennifer Stevens-Bawcum, who oversees his archives and creative legacy, blessed the project and attended last night as well. She was lovely. I got to touch base with some friends (including the generous Scott Burns) and meet a couple of new ones, which was lovely too. CAM hosts Andrew Farago, Summerlea Kashar, and Ron Evans made us feel welcome. 

An unfortunate shot of Jennifer Stevens-Bawcum, for which I apologize, but I'm posting it because it's one of only two photos I took of the evening and it provides a nice overview of the signing set-up. Next to Jennifer is syndicated cartoonist Jonathan Lemon. Next to him is the space where I sat, and beside me was Denis St. John from Charles Schulz's Creative Associates. Behind Denis are Tom Beland and Jon Bean Hastings, and the ponytail behind Jennifer's shoulder belongs to Brent Anderson.

Cartoonists Jon Bean Hastings and Tom Beland held down the end of the horseshoe of tables. The gent standing in the background to the right of the "Gorey" sign is artist Steve Leialoha.

Here's a photo of me, Jonathan Lemon, and Jennifer Stevens-Bawcum taken by my friend Scott Burns, with cartoonist Chuck Whelon and Tina Whelon standing at right in the background.

My page--37, for anyone who's curious.

We signed a LOT of catalogs, which CAM is selling online and on site. The museum itself is worth a visit if you enjoy the graphic narrative arts. A great event in a great institution!

Alcatraz and a gull who had no fear of, or really any interest in, me. A fine day on the Bay.

EDITED TO ADD: Here's a new group photo from CAM that I'm parking here so I'll know where to find it later. Thanks!

Amazing Adventures

Lifetime Goal Unlocked!

In 2023, the Amulet imprint of my publisher, Abrams Books, put out a book titled Marvel Super Stories, an anthology of short stories about Marvel superheroes done for middle-grade readers by cartoonists who don't usually do superhero comics, such as Jerry Craft, Nathan Hale, Lincoln Peirce, Maria Scrivan. You may not know all those names, but 8- to 12-year-old kids devour their graphic novels. 

Shortly after that book was announced, it came up in conversation with my editor at Abrams, Charlie Kochman. I said I thought it was a great idea, and it would be a real thrill for me to do something like that someday. I was a Marvel comics reader from the age of 10, and at one time I'd collected every Avengers comic in print, going back to issue #1 from 1963. In my late teens and early twenties I wanted to draw superheroes professionally, and submitted work to both DC and Marvel. I got some encouraging replies and even a tryout, but nothing came of it. It would be a lifetime bucket-list achievement for me, I told Charlie, if I ever got to write and draw an Avengers comic.

"Well, we're doing a Volume 2," Charlie said. 

"Oh?" I replied, slow on the uptake.

"Send me a proposal," said Charlie, "and we'll see what John (Jennings, Amulet's editor) and Marvel say."

"But I'm not a middle-grade author," I said, arguing myself out of a gig.

"You actually are," Charlie said, pointing out that Whatever Happened to the World of Tomorrow? won an award for best astronautical literature for young adults and was picked up by Scholastic. The Last Mechanical Monster made the American Library Association's best graphic novel list. Even Mom's Cancer won a youth literature prize. 

"Oh!" I replied, still slow.

Each of the 15 Marvel Super Stories is six pages long, plus a couple of pages introducing the character. I drafted a script, drew finished black-and-white art for the first three pages, and hit "Send." A while later, I got word: I was in!

My short Avengers story features the Beast, a furry blue mutant who began as an X-Man but later joined Earth's Mightiest Heroes. I set the story in the era of MY Avengers, which the Marvel folks told me I needed to address because the Avengers' roster and headquarters have changed a lot since I was young. A caption box on Page 1, explaining that this was a tale from the team's past, did the trick.

Two Avengers covers featuring the Beast from back in my day.

I won't say more, except that a couple of other Avengers also show up and I didn't get to use my first choice of villain because someone else had already claimed it. Luckily, the Marvel editors suggested a substitute villain, a deep cut from the Avengers' earliest days, who worked out even better! 

It was an interesting challenge capturing the proper tone. Light, lean, clear. The Marvel editors had a few notes that helped me find it. I also realized I'd have to draw smaller than I intended to achieve the right balance of detail in the art and legibility in the lettering. These were easy but necessary adjustments. An invigorating creative stretch! I also drew a couple of panels that I think may be the best artwork I've ever published.

Although the story is meant for young readers and I aimed for that, I didn't condescend. I wrote and drew an Avengers tale I would have done if Marvel had hired me when I was 24 and said, "Brian, we need to fill six pages in the back of the next issue, what've you got?" As far as I'm concerned, my story really happened. It fits with the chronology and mythology. To me, it's canon.

I did these renderings of the Beast for the cover above, which unites all the superheroes appearing in the book drawn by the artists who did their stories. The cover designer gave me a rough idea of the pose they needed and I returned two slightly different options that I thought would fill the space well. Part of the Beast's arm is missing because I knew it would be hidden by the "E" in "Adventures." 

Marvel Super Stories: Amazing Adventures comes out October 22. I can't express how delighted I was to contribute to it. Comics can be serious nonfiction adult literature. They're a medium like film, TV, theater, print, radio, etc. that can tell any type of story those other media can. You can't do books like mine if you don't believe that.

But sometimes comics can and should just be fun for kids! There's nothing wrong with that, either. Especially if it checks a big item off your bucket list!

Karma

In today's installment of "People Who Have No Clue How the World Works," meet billionaire Gina Rinehart (right), the richest person in Australia, who is leaning on the National Gallery of Australia to remove a portrait of her (left) by indigenous artist Vincent Namatjira.

If she'd kept her mouth shut, the painting might have been seen by a few thousand people in Canberra instead of millions around the world, and she wouldn't have revealed herself to be a thin-skinned humorless bully.

I've never heard of Ms. Rinehart but can't help but think Namatjira captured the essence of her soul. 

I love it when people who deserve it get hoist with their own petard.

See also: The Streisand Effect.

Star Wars

May the Fourth.... 

Quiet rainy Saturday, so Karen and I sat down and watched "Star Wars" this afternoon (at her suggestion!). The original REAL Star Wars, that is. It's the first time I've actually seen the whole thing in many years. I have thoughts:

It's delightful! The first film had a lightness of spirit that later films--and certainly Episodes 1, 2, 3, 7, 8 and 9--lacked. I kept coming back to the word "whimsy" and what a careful touch it takes to pull off. Whimsy isn't about jokes and funny characters; other Star Wars movies and series had jokes and funny characters, but remained as self-serious as a dirge. The tone of the first one was unique. I miss it. 

Everyone was so young. In three years, Star Wars will be 50 years old. Fifty years before 1977 was 1927, the black-and-white silent era of "Metropolis" and Charlie Chaplin. I'll just let you sit with that a bit.

Carrie Fisher was amazing. 

The first 30 seconds of Star Wars remains one of my greatest cinematic moments and memories. It's impossible to convey to someone younger what a thunderclap the Star Destroyer soaring overhead and going and going and going and going was. We'd never seen anything like it. Movies would never be the same. Narratively, those first shots also tell you a lot: we see a small spaceship desperately running from an enormous, angular, brutalist gray spear tip. Before we meet a single character, we know who the underdog good guys and tyrannical bad guys are, and which ship to root for.

In retrospect, the sequels and prequels (such as "Rogue One") just don't fit together with this story. To the extent they do, they depend on the subtle, nuanced performance of Alec Guinness. He was working on another plane than the other actors, and entire movies were wedged into a single sideways glance of his. When Kenobi says "I don't seem to remember ever owning a droid" or tells Luke about his brave betrayed Jedi father, he gives a look that suggests there's more to the story. At the time, there was NOT more to the story. That's all Guinness.

Half the look and feel of the Star Wars universe comes from its thoughtful sound design. This viewing I was especially struck by the sound of the Death Star, a kind of echoing thrumming mechanical heartbeat that makes it sound like you're in a moon-sized space station even though you only actually see little bits of it. The new Star Wars rides at Disneyland smartly use those same sounds to great effect, building whole environments around them, knowing that they're embedded in our collective subconscious. No other universe sounds like the Star Wars universe.

I really enjoyed my revisit to that universe. Although we watched the "Special Edition" with some modern effects, there was enough of the original look and charm left to take me back nearly 50 years. It's been a fun ride.

The Pubs Biz

Print wonks and friends curious about how publishing works: this article, "No One Buys Books," summarizes good and interesting information that emerged from Penguin Random House's recent attempt to buy Simon & Schuster. Among the bullet points:

--In one year, out of 58,000 titles published, 90% sold fewer than 2000 copies.

--In the same year, 50% sold fewer than 12 copies. Read that again: Half of all books sold less than a dozen. 

[EDITED: In comments on Facebook, author Rebecca Solnit questioned this number. Surely just the author's relatives alone would account for a dozen sales! The figure came from the Department of Justice as part of its antitrust action but nobody knows how they arrived at it. One industry expert says the percentage of books that sold fewer than a dozen copies is more like 15%. Either way, it's a big, sad number.]

--Out of every 100 books published, 35 are profitable. 

--Most books don't earn back their advance against royalties, meaning that the money an author receives at the beginning of a project is probably all they'll ever get. 

--Publishers are very hit-driven, looking for the million-selling unicorn. The problem is, it's very hard to tell in advance which those will be, so they place a lot of bets on books and authors that turn out to be duds. Penguin Random House said that the top 4% of titles drive 60% of their profitability.

--The closest thing to a sure bet are big names like John Grisham and James Patterson, as well as celebrities, musicians, and sports stars, but even they can surprisingly tank. Singer Billie Eilish's book sold 64,000 copies in its first eight months, which would be a fantastic number for me or most authors but a big disappointment if you're a publisher expecting Eilish's 97 million Instagram followers to pick up a copy.

--A publisher's backlist of old books can be a gold mine. Eric Carle's Very Hungry Caterpillar has been on the bestseller list for 19 years. 

MY TWO CENTS: All of this matches my observations and experience, and none of it surprises me. If anything, I'd say the situation is more dire in my graphic novel niche.

I won't discuss my sales numbers, I figure that's between me and my publisher, but I am happy to report that each of my books has sold more than 2000 copies, so I'm in the top tenth percentile already. Yay me?

Most of my books have earned out their advances, such that I get a modest royalty check a couple times a year. One of my books never will, so I'll never see another dime from it. Yay me again?

It's certainly possible to be an enormously successful graphic novelist. Dav Pilkey and Raina Telgemeier do very well for themselves. My publisher, Abrams, puts out my friend Jeff Kinney's Diary of a Wimpy Kid series, and I have no doubt that his 300 million copies sold make it possible for Abrams to take risks on books they might not otherwise, including maybe mine.

Don't write books thinking you're going to get rich; don't write books thinking you'll support even a lower-middle-class lifestyle. I began Mom's Cancer as a webcomic 20 years ago, and Abrams published it in 2006. If you divide the money I made from four books, plus random short comics for anthologies and such, over the past 18 to 20 years of what I'd call professional authorship, I earned WAY less than minimum wage. During much of that time, I had a day job; during that ENTIRE time I had a supportive spouse who had a good job with benefits. That's the dirty little secret of how most writers survive.

The numbers are discouraging. As they say about most people in most arts, the best reason to do it is because it's simply something you must do to have a happy, fulfilling life whether the money follows or not.

Fred Weisel

Here's a good article from our local newspaper, the Santa Rosa Press Democrat, about a friend of mine. I worked with Fred Weisel (or as I know him better, "Jonas," because he's a fancy writer with different pen names he uses for different purposes) in a small science-writing firm, where he was my boss and editor. 

He was one of the best editors I've ever had, one who could not only instantly spot the problem in something you'd written but knew exactly how to fix it. Since that company went out of business--gosh, more than 20 years ago!--our careers have followed similar arcs as freelance science writers and then as book authors. We still get together for lunch every couple of months to compare notes and gripe about our publishers (kidding, Charlie!). There aren't many people I can talk shop with and he's my favorite.

The hook of the article is that Jonas, who writes mysteries set in our local Wine Country, recently won the prestigious Nero Award for Best American Mystery Novel of the Year! He beat bestselling authors with big publishers who actually have marketing budgets. For an obscure author with a small independent publisher, it's an astonishing accomplishment. If there's any justice, he won't be obscure for long.

Jonas told me one of my very favorite stories about being a writer. I'll give the short version but his is better. In his first book, Jonas had one character kill another with a grape knife, a short curved blade used in vineyards to harvest wine grapes. But he wasn't sure if that would actually work, so he went to the hardware store to buy one. 

"Odd time of year to buy a grape knife," said the clerk, making conversation. "Oh, I'm not harvesting grapes," said Jonas. "I just want to see if you could use it to kill someone." The clerk's face went ashen as he slowly backed away, and Jonas was in the parking lot before he realized why. 

Writers.

Enterprise Ahoy!

The 3-foot studio model of the starship Enterprise today, as discovered in an abandoned storage unit, a little worse for wear.

This is the feel-good story of the decade for me and what I imagine is a very small subset of my friends.

When the pilot episode for the original Star Trek series was shot in 1965, the starship Enterprise was a 3-foot-long model. The better-known 11-foot model, which is now on display at the Smithsonian, was built later, when the series was picked up for production.

The 3-foot Enterprise was used some in the early days, including the title "Swoosh" shots shown throughout the series, but was eventually retired and ended up on Star Trek creator Gene Roddenberry's desk, where it remained until 1979, when Roddenberry loaned it to the studio making "Star Trek The Motion Picture" and it vanished.

After its days as a working prop, the model graced the desk of Star Trek creator Gene Roddenberry until it disappeared in 1979. One way the modern experts authenticated the rediscovered model was matching the wood grain of the display base seen in this photo.

Nobody knew where it was for 45 years. Had it been stolen, lost, destroyed? One rumor was that Roddenberry's son, Gene Jr., nicknamed "Rod," had thrown it into a swimming pool. It was a cosmic mystery: Where was the original Enterprise?

I don't want to brag, but I always had a pretty good idea what had happened to it, and I knew how it would eventually turn up. I figured it would surface as soon as the guy who in 1979 said, "Hey, this is cool, I'll take it home!" died, and his survivors had no idea what to do with it. 

I think I was pretty close. Several weeks ago, under circumstances that remain murky, the model turned up in an abandoned storage unit. Someone bought the contents, innocently listed the model on eBay, and Trekkies went nuts. A crack team of Star Trek model experts, people who'd worked on the TV shows and movies, authenticated it. It was the real deal. 

The model with William Shatner and Leonard Nimoy in early publicity photos for Star Trek.

It had also taken some wear and damage; one of the experts speculated that it had been dropped at some point. The two long cylindrical engines have a noticeable sag, which brought a smile to the face of everyone who'd built the Enterprise plastic model kit as a child, because it was nearly impossible to keep those things straight. Turns out it was pretty tricky on the real one, too!

The 3-foot model also had a cameo in the Star Trek episode "Requiem for Methuselah," in which Leonardo daVinci (yes, that one) shrank the ship and everyone in it down to a handy desktop size. Not one of the better episodes.

In recent days, all the parties have worked out a deal to return the model to Rod, who remembered seeing it around the house as a child. Rod has vowed to have it repaired, restored, and displayed for the public to appreciate it. Maybe at the Smithsonian next to its larger sibling?

For fans of the original Star Trek and its creators, particularly the brilliant Matt Jefferies who designed the Enterprise and established the look and feel of 60 years of Treks that followed, it's a happy day. Kill the fatted tribble! The prodigal starship was lost and is found! The Enterprise has come home.

Surveyor 3

Pete Conrad at Surveyor 3, with Apollo 12's lunar module in the background. That part sticking up next to Conrad is the video camera, which he and Bean unbolted from the lander and took back home with them...

Today is the anniversary of one of my favorite Space Age events. On April 17, 1967, the unmanned Surveyor 3 successfully landed on the Moon, captured some images, and did some science. Although it was a scientific and engineering triumph, that's not what makes it one of my favorites.

Two and a half years later, Apollo 12 landed about 600 feet (200ish meters) from Surveyor 3, and astronauts Pete Conrad and Alan Bean ambled over for a look. That was not a coincidence. 

With Apollo 11, NASA would have been happy to land anywhere flat, smooth, and on the Moon. Neil Armstrong piloted his lunar module some distance from the planned landing spot, but since that spot was littered with boulders nobody had any problem with it. With Apollo 12, they wanted to see how close they could get to a pinpoint target: Surveyor 3. Pretty close, it turned out. 

As part of their mission, Bean and Conrad detached Surveyor 3's video camera and brought it back to Earth so NASA could study the effects of 2.5 years of lunar exposure on metal, electronic components, etc. That camera is now in the National Air and Space Museum, where I paid my respects last month. If you look closely, you'll see small chunks cut out of the metal housing where NASA took samples to analyze.

...Where it resides in the National Air and Space Museum so I could take this photo of it! Notice the rectangular bites taken out of it--by NASA, not metal-eating Moon monsters.

I just find something very human and romantic about casting a note in a bottle into the ocean and then tracking it down years later to see how it's doing. I think it's one of the coolest things people have done in space.

Horses Lie

On a main road a few miles from my house sits a horse stable and riding arena, where I was delighted to see this sign appear several months ago. Finally had the opportunity to take a photo tonight.

There are many stories contained in this sign: The concerned citizens who think they're seeing a veterinary emergency. The 911 operators tired of taking calls about dead horses. The stable hands tired of having sheriff’s deputies roll up to check on the dead horses. The old equestrians rolling their eyes at city slickers who think horses only sleep standing up. A lot had to happen before the stable decided to pay for and put up a sign. 

And the fact that it should read "lie" instead of "lay" is just the chef's-kiss cherry atop the sundae. This sign is perfect exactly as it is. 

Talking Graphic Meds and Mom's Cancer at 20

My class. Faces are blurred because I didn't ask their permission to post a photo.

I did a talk and workshop for a small group of med students taking a course on Medical Humanities and Ethics at Stanford University today. Everybody made a comic about a health-related subject, after which--by the powers vested in me by mostly me--I dubbed them Practitioners of Graphic Medicine quod erat demonstrandum. They made some genuinely good comics.

Mom's Cancer is about 20 years old now. I did the webcomic in 2004-2005 and Abrams published the book in 2006. I am astonished and gratified that not only is my family’s story still in print but that it is taught in medical schools, and once in a while I get to talk about it and the qualities of comics that, I think, make them a unique storytelling medium. The fact that I give those talks to med students who were toddlers when I made the book is its own weird, unsettling reward. 

But seriously: if you'd told me 20 years ago that I'd be lecturing at medical schools in 2024, I would have believed you less than if you'd said I'd be living on the Moon. With a jetpack.

By the way, if you ever take a header off an electric scooter and land on the sidewalk like a sack of cement, do it at a medical school. One poor unfortunate soul did that right in front of me today. I was first on the scene, but by the time I asked, "Hey, are you all right?" we were surrounded by eight people in surgical scrubs doing a full exam. I left him in better hands, and later saw him limping along with his busted scooter. Glad I could help.

Trina Robbins

With Trina at the Cartoon Art Museum in 2023.

I'm very sorry to hear of the death of cartoonist Trina Robbins and add my condolences to the many that her partner, artist Steve Leialoha, is surely receiving now. I didn't know her well but we met and spoke a few times--including at the Cartoon Art Museum in San Francisco, where I think she and Steve made a point to show up for every special event, and once when I interrupted their breakfast at San Diego Comic Con for a lovely brief chat. 

Trina and Steve when they came to see me talk about A Fire Story at the Cartoon Art Museum in 2019.

Trina had an interesting and unusual career, successfully transitioning from Underground comix in the 1960s and 1970s to mainstream comics, notably Wonder Woman, in the 1980s until now, while keeping a foot in both worlds and remaining well-respected in both. Not many creators could pull that off. 

She was just one of those people whose personality was a beacon of light: happy to be there, happy to meet you, happy to see you again, happy to discover a comic she'd never seen before. I don't know if Trina was naturally humble or just mastered the conversational trick of asking the other person about themselves, but she always reflected the spotlight onto others. 

I've met a number of old pros who welcomed me to the comics community with open arms, treating me like a peer even when they'd never heard of me or seen my work. It's a classy quality that the most accomplished and secure creators pull off with grace. Trina will always be at the top of my list.

A gallery of just some of Trina's work. She had a huge bibliography in both fiction and historical nonfiction.

Asked and Answered

Snappy, accurate answers to actual headlines I found in newspapers and online this morning, to save you the trouble of reading the accompanying articles:

Q: "Did That Earthquake Have Anything to Do With the Solar Eclipse?"--Slate

A: No.

Q: "Were the Quakes in Santa Rosa (Calif.) and Taiwan Related?"--Santa Rosa Press Democrat

A: No. 

Q: "Why Was the New Jersey Earthquake Felt Several Hundred Miles Away?"--Washington Post

A: Because it was an earthquake. That's what they do.

Q: "Is A.I. Already Taking Jobs?"--New York Times

A: Yes.

Q: "Buy Groceries at WalMart Lately?"--Associated Press

A: No.

Q: "Want an Elephant?"--Washington Post

A: No. 

Q: "Why Is Technology Mean to Me?"--New York Times

A: It's mean to everyone, columnist David Brooks. You're not special. 

Q: "Will Animals Act Weird During the Total Solar Eclipse?"--Associated Press

A: Some. Your cat will sleep through it.

Q: "Michael Douglas as Ben Franklin?"--Washington Post

A: Sure. Why not?

Q: "How Much Would You Pay to Make Sure you Never Sawed Off a Finger?"--New York Times

A: $10.

Q: "How Well Do You Remember the Week?"--CNN

A: Frankly, much of it is a blur.

Covid Shmovid!

Covid Update, Day 5 and Final: Though still testing positive--the line was so bold this morning it almost felt sarcastic--I feel about 91% back to normal so I'm calling myself over it. Will continue to follow CDC guidelines and take extra care around vulnerable folks. Unless I take a dramatic dive, this'll be the last I have to say about my bout with the 'Vid. Thanks, everyone, for your encouragement and caring emojis!

Covid! Getcher Covid Heah!

Covid Update, Day Three. Because I know my friends and "friends" care. 

My sister texted a bit ago asking if I was kicking its ass. I replied that it's a mutual ass-kicking. I'm doing all right, but this is the weirdest virus I've ever had. Every few hours I rotate through a suite of different symptoms: first sore throat, then that goes away and I get aches and pains, then sneezing and coughing, then high fever and chills, then a deep fatigue, which is where I am today. Can't wait to find out whether I get green spots or my ears fall off tomorrow.

A couple of wags have asked if I'll be making a comic about it. This drawing is my reply. It would be 200 pages of me sleeping in my beanbag chair, interspersed with episodes of eating, showering, and tippy-tapping on the computer, like I'm doing now. Riveting literature.

I'm very confident I'll be fine (although the fever worried me, but it fell to a reasonable number pretty fast). If you don't hear from me for a while, assume I'm napping.