23. GETTING MY FIRST PIN-UP, AND FROM ONE OF MY FAVORITE ARTISTS, TOO!
I had just put myself in serious debt, and most anyone I told how thought that I was some moron. But by doing so, I had managed to convince one of my favorite artists to draw a pin-up that I could publish in my comic.
At this point, after meeting him a couple times, sharing my work, and exchanging some emails, maybe I felt that we were closer friends than we were (since we weren't friends at all). Isn't it interesting when you feel you know people like this so well, because you're so intimate with their work, and in some ways, you really do get to know them that way. But you're just a stranger to them. They don't know you at all.
But I was feeling cocky and sure. I had learned, in the process of buying his pages, that he was drawing his pages on 9"x12" paper. This is considerably smaller than the industry standard 11"x17". That's interesting, don't you think? I also deduced that the reason he had switched to this size was as a means of getting work out more regularly, so that he'd have more books under his belt for his fans to enjoy. I deduced this because he had told me at San Diego that he had been looking for ways to streamline his production. I also knew he'd seen Bruce Timm's original work, which was smaller, and which he found very impressive and awe-inspiring, to be able to encapsulate so much energy into such small pages.
So I posted a new public note on his message board, saying I knew that he worked small, and would he care to talk about why he worked this size. I knew he would see the post, and assumed he would be absolutely tickled by what I considered my wry little in-joke with him, and then write something interesting, to enlighten his fan base. The fans would enjoy the intimate, unique info, and I really was interested in learning about his creative process, and I thought everyone would get a kick out of it, all around.
My other posts to his message board, he had answered almost immediately. But this one never got a response. Finally I got a personal email from him saying the pin-up was done and he'd mail it. But as a side note, he asked that I please DO NOT talk about or publicly post his process of art-making.
I was really shocked. First of all, I didn't think it was a big deal if people knew he was working smaller. But mostly, I had just gotten scolded by one of my favorite artists in the industry. What a shameful feeling. It gave me a stomach-ache, and I couldn't stop worrying about it.
I wrote back and apologized profusely, and assured him I wouldn't do it anymore. I pointed out I didn't think asking about it was a big deal.
He responded, and made me feel much better. He said that he considers his comics a sort of magic-making, and he doesn't like to give away his "tricks." He likes to keep it magical for his readers. He admitted that if people ask the questions, he's happy to offer the information, he just doesn't like to ruin it for anyone who wouldn't want to know, or think to know. Fair enough.
His pin-up, along with all the original art, was the first pin-up I received. Getting the package in the mail felt like Christmas back in elementary school, when I still felt excited about things, When things were exciting and important. I opened it, and he had filled the box with Atomics notepads and stickers, and a Madman action figure, as well as a hardcover Madman gallery and some comics! What a package! I pulled out the art, and the pin-up was right on top, and it was gorgeous! I was surprised by the smaller size, but really pleased with the image. I couldn't believe he drew Madman in the pin-up. I thought to myself, my book is going to have Madman in it! Wow!
Soon after, Mike posted on his website that he was officially announcing his intention to try and sell artwork, but only full issues. He said as soon as he made the decision, one of his fans already bought a full issue, and I proudly realized that was me! What a celebrity I had become! So I was using him by buying his art to get a pin-up, and he was using me to show there was a demand for his artwork. Happy to oblige!
Last thing I want to mention is that, reading these posts, you may have noticed the irony, my writing about the size of his artwork and my promises not to do just that. Well a few months after what I call my "shaming," someone else publically asked about Mike's art process in an interview, and he went into great detail about how he works in a smaller size with a smaller brush, and he defies anyone to try and figure out which of his pages he did smaller, and which pages were larger. And this he unapologetically linked from his website. So he did it first!
24. GETTING ANOTHER PIN-UP
My experience with Gene Colan was a perfect lesson in what NOT to do, when trying to get a pin-up from one of your idols, or what TO do, if you want to annoy the hell out of them and make them hate you, and feel ashamed of yourself.
I found his website online. He was one of the first artists I looked for. I sent him a letter about how much I loved his art, and how great I thought it was he was accessible online. He sent a very brief thank-you-very-much type of note.
At this stage I was new at the whole email thing. In fact, I was new at the whole computer thing. I had had an eighties model, which I used just as a word processor. But when I met (my wife) Elizabeth, she introduced me to the internet, and to emails.
But as I say, I was new to email etiquette. I would write pages and pages. I suspect most people would read a sentence or so, and then get bored or irritated and delete the letter without finishing it. At least, that's what I would have done. But I didn't know this at the time, because I hadn't gotten any emails yet, so I just kept writing. I also didn't have any experience trying to get pin-ups from artists. So my strategy was this. I'd write a long, annoying introductory letter, and I wouldn't ask about the pin-up. I would just say hello and I love you so much. Then I would wait and see if I got a response before bothering to put myself on the line and ask for a pin-up. I guess I thought this technique would strengthen their bond to me somehow, and make them like me so much, that when I wrote a second time, they'd not only remember me, but also see what a nice and polite guy I was, and then they'd want to do the pin-up. As if they wouldn't have done it if I just asked the first time. So after receiving the very brief and appreciative thank-you from Gene, I wrote again, telling him about the book I was doing, sending some samples of the monster pages Dick Ayers inked, and asked if he would do a pin-up I could publish.
I told him if he wasn't really interested in drawing a monster, he could just include a hint of one. I thought maybe he could do a deserted spooky street, with a monster peeking into an alley, or a giant shadow falling over someone, or a graveyard, with a giant foot stomping down. But something moody, since he's so good with that gothic horror atmosphere.
This email got another brief reply. This time it was from his wife. She named a price which I found extremely high, but which in retrospect was a fair price for his work, considering what he had planned to do for that money.
I wrote another way-too-long letter, saying I assumed the price was for an 11"x17", the standard size for a comics page. I asked if he might be able to do something smaller, or less detailed, for cheaper. I went on and on about possibilities.
Another brie reply from his wife. She said that he works very hard, and if he skimped on quality, neither of us would be happy with the result. But she also said that he had planned to do a "22x28" piece (Holy Christ! That would have been HUGE!) He would do an 11"x17" for half the original price. At the time, I thought it was still expensive (although I've since learned that a number of artists charge this much), but closer to a ballpark that I could afford.
So I wrote again, to make sure he was okay with my usual requests, for that price. Me keeping the work, me advertising to publish the piece, me publishing the piece, and him not expecting royalties or additional payments.
His wife wrote back again, and I interpreted the letter that she seemed pretty upset. It was a brief, terse letter. She said, absolutely not, forget the whole deal, basically. I wrote back yet another long letter, explaining that it wasn't my intention to upset or short them. I asked what she had issue with specifically.
She wrote back her complaints, sounding moderately less upset than the previous letter, but still with a bit of an edge. I had the feeling she thought that "permission to publish the pin-up" meant I had full rights to take advantage and make t-shirts and posters and make a fortune off this image he would send me, and he works hard and the industry is always taking advantage and I was another back-stabbing no-good... That kind of thing. And honestly I can't blame her. He's had a long career, and it's a tough industry, and I'm sure people have tried to take advantage. I think a lot of the classic artists, especially, weren't taken very good care of by the big companies. But on the other hand, it was getting a little grating one me. I just wanted a pin-up from one of my idols, and it wasn't my intention to take advantage. I'm also wondering why I stopped getting emails from Gene.
I wrote back again."Look, phrase it however you want so that I'm not taking advantage. I just want to publish it in my book." I gave samples of how we could re-phrase it to her liking. A way-too-long, blow-by-blow explanation of my stance, full of descriptions, apologies, and suggestions for resolving our differences. But if she didn't want to agree to something, I would selfishly ask for something else instead. That didn't help.
I really wanted a pin-up from him, and the more she protested about this or that, the more I wanted it. It was getting exhausting making all these negotiations. We finally got to a near complete agreement, except that she asked, if I sell over 25,000 copies, that I send Gene an additional payment.
I hadn't yet published a comic, so I thought, "Well maybe I will sell 25,000 books" (what a naive moron I was...). And at first glance, I thought, well if I could sell that many, I guess I could pay him some extra. That seems reasonable. But it made me sit down and think, and try and really calculate costs of publishing for the first time. And the farther I got into the calculations, the more I realized I couldn't hope to even break even, even if I did sell that many books. That's pretty unbelievable, when you think about it.
So then I thought, Sure, I'd like to keep the art, but I'm paying him a lot of money. More than the industry's page rate. I'm a new and unknown comics guy, and I'm taking a chance here, and putting up all the money to pay him the price he's asking, and then I have to pay all the money to get the book in print too. So all the risk and cost isl on me, and there's no risk to him, because he knows he's getting paid what he asks for a pre-specified job. But if for some crazy reason the book were successful, I should see the benefit of that, because I'm the one completely at risk (I felt). The only risk he has to take is that he won't get paid more than he asked to get paid, whether the book is successful or not.
I started writing out all the things that were going to cost me. Printing. Advertising. All the Dick Ayers inks. The other pin-ups I'd gotten. I realized, if I DID sell 25,000 books, I might break even, but WITHOUT GETTING A CENT FOR MYSELF. So next thing I knew, and to my horror, I had sent him a many-page description, in explicit detail, of all these figures, and why I didn't think I should have to pay him royalties. I asked if he could please waive this request.
Looking back, it was so idiotic, because I only sold 600 copies of that first book. I missed his request by 24,500! I would have had to have sold OVER FORTY TIMES what I sold. There was absolutely no danger, ABSOLUTELY, of having to worry about this request. But I did it for principle.
I got a letter back from them that was so funny and so simple, it made me ashamed. It said, Fine, he'll do the pin-up. Don't send any more emails. And then it said, "Seriously." How embarrassing. How humiliating.
Once the money was sent, I found a message on my answering machine from Gene in New York! He just wanted to check on the composition he had in mind for my pin-up. I was so excited, I saved the message special to play for my wife. I was trying to figure out a way I could record a copy and save it for my personal records. At this time, I was saving the envelopes artists sent me their pin-ups in, because it had their names in their handwriting, and it was really cool to me to have these little pieces of their everyday lives.
I called him back, and it was a rush to speak with him on the phone. He was so polite and friendly. He made no mention of what a pain in his ass I was. He said he planned to graveyard with a kid in it, who's jumping back in shock, right as a giant foot stomps down at him. Sounds great, I said. Do whatever you like.
That day, when I got home from work to share the phone message with my wife, I went to the answering machine to play it for her, and the machine said there were no messages. I literally howled with anguish, and she came running out. I said, "There was a message on the machine I wanted to share with you!" I was crushed. She had seen a bunch of old messages on the machine and assumed they were all ones she had heard, so she deleted them without listening to them first. I couldn't believe it. I was in shock. I was devastated.
The pin-up came, and it was gorgeous. And it was still huge. Even though I'd asked for an 11"x17", it ended up being 14"x22!"
At this point, after meeting him a couple times, sharing my work, and exchanging some emails, maybe I felt that we were closer friends than we were (since we weren't friends at all). Isn't it interesting when you feel you know people like this so well, because you're so intimate with their work, and in some ways, you really do get to know them that way. But you're just a stranger to them. They don't know you at all.
But I was feeling cocky and sure. I had learned, in the process of buying his pages, that he was drawing his pages on 9"x12" paper. This is considerably smaller than the industry standard 11"x17". That's interesting, don't you think? I also deduced that the reason he had switched to this size was as a means of getting work out more regularly, so that he'd have more books under his belt for his fans to enjoy. I deduced this because he had told me at San Diego that he had been looking for ways to streamline his production. I also knew he'd seen Bruce Timm's original work, which was smaller, and which he found very impressive and awe-inspiring, to be able to encapsulate so much energy into such small pages.
So I posted a new public note on his message board, saying I knew that he worked small, and would he care to talk about why he worked this size. I knew he would see the post, and assumed he would be absolutely tickled by what I considered my wry little in-joke with him, and then write something interesting, to enlighten his fan base. The fans would enjoy the intimate, unique info, and I really was interested in learning about his creative process, and I thought everyone would get a kick out of it, all around.
My other posts to his message board, he had answered almost immediately. But this one never got a response. Finally I got a personal email from him saying the pin-up was done and he'd mail it. But as a side note, he asked that I please DO NOT talk about or publicly post his process of art-making.
I was really shocked. First of all, I didn't think it was a big deal if people knew he was working smaller. But mostly, I had just gotten scolded by one of my favorite artists in the industry. What a shameful feeling. It gave me a stomach-ache, and I couldn't stop worrying about it.
I wrote back and apologized profusely, and assured him I wouldn't do it anymore. I pointed out I didn't think asking about it was a big deal.
He responded, and made me feel much better. He said that he considers his comics a sort of magic-making, and he doesn't like to give away his "tricks." He likes to keep it magical for his readers. He admitted that if people ask the questions, he's happy to offer the information, he just doesn't like to ruin it for anyone who wouldn't want to know, or think to know. Fair enough.
His pin-up, along with all the original art, was the first pin-up I received. Getting the package in the mail felt like Christmas back in elementary school, when I still felt excited about things, When things were exciting and important. I opened it, and he had filled the box with Atomics notepads and stickers, and a Madman action figure, as well as a hardcover Madman gallery and some comics! What a package! I pulled out the art, and the pin-up was right on top, and it was gorgeous! I was surprised by the smaller size, but really pleased with the image. I couldn't believe he drew Madman in the pin-up. I thought to myself, my book is going to have Madman in it! Wow!
Soon after, Mike posted on his website that he was officially announcing his intention to try and sell artwork, but only full issues. He said as soon as he made the decision, one of his fans already bought a full issue, and I proudly realized that was me! What a celebrity I had become! So I was using him by buying his art to get a pin-up, and he was using me to show there was a demand for his artwork. Happy to oblige!
Last thing I want to mention is that, reading these posts, you may have noticed the irony, my writing about the size of his artwork and my promises not to do just that. Well a few months after what I call my "shaming," someone else publically asked about Mike's art process in an interview, and he went into great detail about how he works in a smaller size with a smaller brush, and he defies anyone to try and figure out which of his pages he did smaller, and which pages were larger. And this he unapologetically linked from his website. So he did it first!
24. GETTING ANOTHER PIN-UP
My experience with Gene Colan was a perfect lesson in what NOT to do, when trying to get a pin-up from one of your idols, or what TO do, if you want to annoy the hell out of them and make them hate you, and feel ashamed of yourself.
I found his website online. He was one of the first artists I looked for. I sent him a letter about how much I loved his art, and how great I thought it was he was accessible online. He sent a very brief thank-you-very-much type of note.
At this stage I was new at the whole email thing. In fact, I was new at the whole computer thing. I had had an eighties model, which I used just as a word processor. But when I met (my wife) Elizabeth, she introduced me to the internet, and to emails.
But as I say, I was new to email etiquette. I would write pages and pages. I suspect most people would read a sentence or so, and then get bored or irritated and delete the letter without finishing it. At least, that's what I would have done. But I didn't know this at the time, because I hadn't gotten any emails yet, so I just kept writing. I also didn't have any experience trying to get pin-ups from artists. So my strategy was this. I'd write a long, annoying introductory letter, and I wouldn't ask about the pin-up. I would just say hello and I love you so much. Then I would wait and see if I got a response before bothering to put myself on the line and ask for a pin-up. I guess I thought this technique would strengthen their bond to me somehow, and make them like me so much, that when I wrote a second time, they'd not only remember me, but also see what a nice and polite guy I was, and then they'd want to do the pin-up. As if they wouldn't have done it if I just asked the first time. So after receiving the very brief and appreciative thank-you from Gene, I wrote again, telling him about the book I was doing, sending some samples of the monster pages Dick Ayers inked, and asked if he would do a pin-up I could publish.
I told him if he wasn't really interested in drawing a monster, he could just include a hint of one. I thought maybe he could do a deserted spooky street, with a monster peeking into an alley, or a giant shadow falling over someone, or a graveyard, with a giant foot stomping down. But something moody, since he's so good with that gothic horror atmosphere.
This email got another brief reply. This time it was from his wife. She named a price which I found extremely high, but which in retrospect was a fair price for his work, considering what he had planned to do for that money.
I wrote another way-too-long letter, saying I assumed the price was for an 11"x17", the standard size for a comics page. I asked if he might be able to do something smaller, or less detailed, for cheaper. I went on and on about possibilities.
Another brie reply from his wife. She said that he works very hard, and if he skimped on quality, neither of us would be happy with the result. But she also said that he had planned to do a "22x28" piece (Holy Christ! That would have been HUGE!) He would do an 11"x17" for half the original price. At the time, I thought it was still expensive (although I've since learned that a number of artists charge this much), but closer to a ballpark that I could afford.
So I wrote again, to make sure he was okay with my usual requests, for that price. Me keeping the work, me advertising to publish the piece, me publishing the piece, and him not expecting royalties or additional payments.
His wife wrote back again, and I interpreted the letter that she seemed pretty upset. It was a brief, terse letter. She said, absolutely not, forget the whole deal, basically. I wrote back yet another long letter, explaining that it wasn't my intention to upset or short them. I asked what she had issue with specifically.
She wrote back her complaints, sounding moderately less upset than the previous letter, but still with a bit of an edge. I had the feeling she thought that "permission to publish the pin-up" meant I had full rights to take advantage and make t-shirts and posters and make a fortune off this image he would send me, and he works hard and the industry is always taking advantage and I was another back-stabbing no-good... That kind of thing. And honestly I can't blame her. He's had a long career, and it's a tough industry, and I'm sure people have tried to take advantage. I think a lot of the classic artists, especially, weren't taken very good care of by the big companies. But on the other hand, it was getting a little grating one me. I just wanted a pin-up from one of my idols, and it wasn't my intention to take advantage. I'm also wondering why I stopped getting emails from Gene.
I wrote back again."Look, phrase it however you want so that I'm not taking advantage. I just want to publish it in my book." I gave samples of how we could re-phrase it to her liking. A way-too-long, blow-by-blow explanation of my stance, full of descriptions, apologies, and suggestions for resolving our differences. But if she didn't want to agree to something, I would selfishly ask for something else instead. That didn't help.
I really wanted a pin-up from him, and the more she protested about this or that, the more I wanted it. It was getting exhausting making all these negotiations. We finally got to a near complete agreement, except that she asked, if I sell over 25,000 copies, that I send Gene an additional payment.
I hadn't yet published a comic, so I thought, "Well maybe I will sell 25,000 books" (what a naive moron I was...). And at first glance, I thought, well if I could sell that many, I guess I could pay him some extra. That seems reasonable. But it made me sit down and think, and try and really calculate costs of publishing for the first time. And the farther I got into the calculations, the more I realized I couldn't hope to even break even, even if I did sell that many books. That's pretty unbelievable, when you think about it.
So then I thought, Sure, I'd like to keep the art, but I'm paying him a lot of money. More than the industry's page rate. I'm a new and unknown comics guy, and I'm taking a chance here, and putting up all the money to pay him the price he's asking, and then I have to pay all the money to get the book in print too. So all the risk and cost isl on me, and there's no risk to him, because he knows he's getting paid what he asks for a pre-specified job. But if for some crazy reason the book were successful, I should see the benefit of that, because I'm the one completely at risk (I felt). The only risk he has to take is that he won't get paid more than he asked to get paid, whether the book is successful or not.
I started writing out all the things that were going to cost me. Printing. Advertising. All the Dick Ayers inks. The other pin-ups I'd gotten. I realized, if I DID sell 25,000 books, I might break even, but WITHOUT GETTING A CENT FOR MYSELF. So next thing I knew, and to my horror, I had sent him a many-page description, in explicit detail, of all these figures, and why I didn't think I should have to pay him royalties. I asked if he could please waive this request.
Looking back, it was so idiotic, because I only sold 600 copies of that first book. I missed his request by 24,500! I would have had to have sold OVER FORTY TIMES what I sold. There was absolutely no danger, ABSOLUTELY, of having to worry about this request. But I did it for principle.
I got a letter back from them that was so funny and so simple, it made me ashamed. It said, Fine, he'll do the pin-up. Don't send any more emails. And then it said, "Seriously." How embarrassing. How humiliating.
Once the money was sent, I found a message on my answering machine from Gene in New York! He just wanted to check on the composition he had in mind for my pin-up. I was so excited, I saved the message special to play for my wife. I was trying to figure out a way I could record a copy and save it for my personal records. At this time, I was saving the envelopes artists sent me their pin-ups in, because it had their names in their handwriting, and it was really cool to me to have these little pieces of their everyday lives.
I called him back, and it was a rush to speak with him on the phone. He was so polite and friendly. He made no mention of what a pain in his ass I was. He said he planned to graveyard with a kid in it, who's jumping back in shock, right as a giant foot stomps down at him. Sounds great, I said. Do whatever you like.
That day, when I got home from work to share the phone message with my wife, I went to the answering machine to play it for her, and the machine said there were no messages. I literally howled with anguish, and she came running out. I said, "There was a message on the machine I wanted to share with you!" I was crushed. She had seen a bunch of old messages on the machine and assumed they were all ones she had heard, so she deleted them without listening to them first. I couldn't believe it. I was in shock. I was devastated.
The pin-up came, and it was gorgeous. And it was still huge. Even though I'd asked for an 11"x17", it ended up being 14"x22!"
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home