At a World Fantasy Convention a few years ago, Guest of Honor Jonathan Carroll related a story (which I'm paraphrasing) about driving around with one of his brothers. He comes from a mixed family of people who are like a religious explosion: Agnostics, Presbyterians, Baptists, Jews, Ultra-Orthodox Jews, and a Sufi.

So Jonathan was riding around with his brother the Sufi, and complaining about how he's lived his life. "I've been a lousy human being," Jonathan said. "I've been a terrible husband, and father. I've been a terrible son and brother. I'm not a great friend. I've just been awful in how I relate to everyone around me. I understand this. I acknowledge this. I just don't know what to do about it."

His brother stopped the car, grabbed him firmly by the arm, and glared at him. "Look," he said, "you know there's a light. You know where it is. Try and walk in it. That's it."

And, Jonathan says, he realized his brother was right. And he tries to walk in the light.

And so do I.

This was the cover image to a planned-but-never-more-than-that project called MONOGRAPHS from back in the mid 90's. It was going to be 24-hour comics, and stream-of-consciousness stories, and anything I wanted to do that 1) seemed like fun and 2) wasn't Starchild.

The title of this one was to be "Secret Identity". I might follow this up with the title page (which was finished) and a few of the other interiors...

The photos below are from Free Comic Book Day 2008, hosted by Atomic Comics, and featuring the first ever group signing of all seven of the Image Comics founders. I was hanging at dinner with my old friend Jim Valentino (who invited me to publish with Image in the late 90's), but also really, REALLY hit it off with the fellow below - the one all of the other Image guys acknowledge as the best artist of the group when he's on his game.

Look for a James Owen / Whilce Portacio collaboration in the near future. We're going to do some cool stuff together.

How's THAT for a tease?



Back in 1992, at my very FIRST STARCHILD signing at B&T Comics in Chandler, Arizona, a woman in line had me sign a book for her kid, then proceeded to grill me for half an hour about how to help her son prepare for a career as a comic book artist. She was polite, but firmly insistent, and I did the best I could to pass on what I knew so that her son could do what he needed to do to follow his bliss.

Apparently (among many other factors, I'm sure) my counsel helped - because young Benjamin (Glendenning) is now doing comics, and doing a great job at that. Below is a photo of myself and Ben with his wife Julie.

As I previously detailed here, I am selling some pieces of original art commissioned by Shimmer Magazine.

Rajan has already claimed one of the choice pieces (thank you kindly!) but the rest are priced thusly: I'll accept offers from the peanut gallery in the $100 range (per illustration). Email me at coppervale@frontiernet.net with an offer for the piece you'd like, and we'll complete the deal via paypal (to the same address).

The illos can be viewed here.

(And any of the authors who may have missed this are certainly welcome to email first dibs!)

UPDATE:

The Furies (pictured above at the top link) is now taken, as is The Flying Spaghetti Monster and Bartleby Crow (the mouse).

UPDATE:

Barbary Coast (satellite with the pirate flag) is also taken.

UPDATE:

And the one with the Demon Lobster.

My friend Jeff VanderMeer, who seems to be just about EVERYWHERE in fantastic fiction these days (from his often cool and more often very cool blog, to his editing projects, to his knock-you-over books) just posted a great review/plug for THE SEARCH FOR THE RED DRAGON over at the Amazon Book Blog, Omnivoracious.

Please do drop over and check it out - then drop by Jeff's site and peruse his own stuff. It's all top-notch, and worth your time and money.

(There is another connection between us as well - I did the cover art for the book A SURGEON'S TALE, by Jeff and Cat Rambo.)

The period where PRYDERI was improving in leaps and bounds was also the period I was working up some proposals for DC Comics: most memorably, Superman and Swamp Thing. (I also did a six-page Sandman story I still have).

The Superman art suffered from the transition I was making from a style with a notable Perez influence to an even more notable style influenced by Stephen Bissette and John Totleben.

The piece below was drawn two years after PRYDERI #1, and only about three years before the recycled Silas Marner pages that became the center of STARCHILD #1.

Twenty years ago, going on the date at the bottom.

Yesterday, going by how I feel looking at it.

At the Whale of a Tale Booth, with the mellow and cool D.J. McHale:



And the awesomely sweet Cornelia Funke:

My favorite sketch (for the HERO INITIATIVE charity) from Free Comic Book Day:



Plus, a serendipitous find - the original pencils for the cover of STARCHILD: CROSSROADS #1 (then painted beautifully by my dear Colleen):

What a glorious sentence.

Anyhoo, I'll be attending the day at Atomic Comics' Metro Phoenix store, and will be drawing all day. Come on over and say hello. Watch me draw Aliens vs. Predator (easy-peasy) or the Powerpuff Girls (really, really hard) or, if you're lucky, FCBD perennial favorites Batman at Leisure (blowing bubbles) or my brother's invention, Superman affected by tangerine lip gloss kryptonite (which turns him into super Carmen Miranda).

1986 was a very different time for comics. There were around twenty distributors, and you could fit all of the significant publishers into one exhibit hall at the Holiday Inn at the Embarcadero for the Trade Show that was held prior to the actual convention (which was a few miles away at the old convention center). An example of a publisher going all-out in their display was the two fake palm trees Malibu Publishing brought in to bracket the booth.

The distributor group, IADD (International Association for Direct Distribution) scheduled meetings with attending publishers so we could present our new books. I dutifully signed up, then showed up at the appointed time at the conference room they had set up for the meetings.

In the anteroom, a flunky was guarding the door, and informed me that the room was off-limits because of the private meetings with publishers. I insisted I was a publisher, and it was my turn next. He looked through the list, saw my company name, and apologized, saying he was expecting Mr. Owen.

"I am Mr. Owen," I said with as much gravitas as I could muster. He blinked a few times, then nodded me into the room.

Entering, I saw that Bruce Bristow, the sales director for DC Comics, was still going strong with his presentation. The distributors were all listening attentively, and I stood politely at the back of the room - until Bristow noticed me and waved me up.

I assumed he was going to relinquish the floor to me, but instead, he took the box with twenty PRYDERI TERRA in it out of my hands, then asked if I'd get him a cup of coffee. He never stopped his pitch.

So, while I went to the refreshment table to get his coffee, I watched as he handed out copies of my comic book to the distributors, talking all the while about how this was "...the most exciting new project DC is publishing."

The distributors started thumbing through my comic while Bristow blathered on, and when I brought him the coffee he finally paused long enough to notice the puzzled expressions around the table.

He picked up a copy of the book, then looked at me and said "This isn't the comic I was expecting. What the hell is this?"

I handed him the coffee. "That's my book, and you're now five minutes into my presentation time."

Everyone laughed. Bristow apologized and excused himself. And two of the distributors - Bud Plant and Chuck Rozanski - commented, "Well, if you got DC Comics to shill your book, we may as well put in an order."

They did. And so did everyone else. So, basically, PRYDERI TERRA was self-published - but some of the more effective marketing was done by DC Comics. And all it cost me was a cup of coffee I didn't have to pay for.



We ended up selling enough at retail to make up for the wholesale price mixup losses, and that was at $1.75 per copy. Nowadays, they run about a hundred bucks. Who knew?

Next: How to get audited for selling Corn Nuts and G.I. Joe

There's an excellent group blog called The Great Whatsit that I read on a regular basis. For those of you playing along, yes - that's where I got the name for the old library in THE SEARCH FOR THE RED DRAGON (which birthed the Little Whatsit, to be seen in the forthcoming THE INDIGO KING).

I found it because one of the bloggers is my childhood friend Bryan (who can be seen in some of the Memories of Comicon photos), who is now a History Professor at NYU. I asked the primary Whatsit, Dave Barber, if I could contribute a Thursday Playlist, and he said yes. The results (and a free download of music!) can be found at the links below.

The Great Whatsit

My Specific Entry (for those of you who read this after Thursday)

Next up: More Comicon Memories, including how to get DC to pitch your book to distributors.

In 1984, I talked my aunt into taking me to the World SF Con in Anaheim (LA Con II) so I could meet Wendy and Richard Pini, the creator and publisher of Elfquest. We paid full memberships so I could walk around sweating blood for three hours at the "End of the Quest" party before I finally approached Richard. He told me they weren't looking to hire anyone, or invest in new books - and I replied that I didn't want a job, or an investment. I just wanted them to know who I was.

I showed him my work, and said that they had inspired me, and I was going to do what they had done, and start my own comics company.

And a year later, I did. A year after that, my company, Fantasy West Publications, was an exhibitor at San Diego.

It actually takes around twenty years, give or take. At least.

It's been interesting to watch the ripples caused by how well HERE, THERE BE DRAGONS and THE SEARCH FOR THE RED DRAGONS are doing, but never moreso than when booksellers, librarians, or readers refer to them (and me) as being an 'overnight success'.

But as the ripples widen, others who know a bit more of the background start tossing in pebbles of their own: those in the SF/F community who are aware of my MYTHWORLD novels in Germany, for example; which leads to those in the Comics community who know about my years producing STARCHILD comics; which inevitably comes full circle to where librarians who know DRAGONS write to ask if I'm related to the James Owen who's pictured in Jeff Smith's History of Self-Publishing Comics blogs.

What the Imaginarium Geographica books are consists of two things: 1) Lighting. In a bottle. It was the right idea and the right timing and the right editor and the right alignment of planets. It is also 2) the result of many years of hard work, that began a long while before I'd even thought of STARCHILD in the early 90's.

A lot of people know I was one of the principal players in the Self-Publishing movement of the 90's. What a lot of people don't know is that I actually started my tenure in comics at the tail-end of the PREVIOUS self-publishing boom in the 80's - the one that started with the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. And I did so as the youngest exhibitor they've ever had at the San Diego Comicon, which, on capacity days, looked like this:



Comicon itself was bigger than it had been at the old Cortez Hotel, but was minimal compared to now. But for me, it was Nirvana. Even if I didn't have a driver's license yet. There's a lot of 1986 nostalgia in the air due to the WATCHMEN movie, but for me, it was also the year my career started in earnest; the year I moved from behind the curtains to the stage. And if I wasn't exactly in the center of it, it wasn't for lack of effort. But I was there - and I was determined to get into that spotlight, even if it took a year.

Or twenty.

Next: The Comicon '86 story, with barnyard construction, U-Haul vans, Distributor meetings, and Presidential Suites.

I've been thinking about (and discussing) editors a lot lately. With my writer friends, I've discussed longform editors; and online (especially within the livejournal community) I've been watching discussions about (and by) shortform editors.

My friend Doug Cohen got my wheels turning with the sort-of rhetorical question, "why do writers argue with editors?" His context for asking (from the pov as assistant editor of Realms of Fantasy) was that a lot of writers who have had stories rejected (for whatever reason) seem to think they can get a different result by arguing with the editor - even when expressly told not to. (It's turned into an amateur rite of passage for people to piss off editor Nick Mamatas by questioning his judgment.)

Let me make my position as clear as possible. There is only one time when it is ever appropriate to argue (politely, appropriately, diplomatically, and RESPECTFULLY) with an editor: when they have already BOUGHT the story at issue, and are working WITH the writer to improve, tighten, improve, polish, and otherwise IMPROVE a story they already loved enough to commit time, resources, and money to.

And even then, "argue" is too loaded a term for the process; "discuss" is better. But again, it's the timing that makes the difference. When an editor like Doug asks the question above, "argue" fits - because it usually means a writer is trying to convince the editor, by argument, to reconsider their negative opinion of a story.

In shortform writing, arguing the reasons why an editor rejected a story is going to do nothing except alienate them to one's future work. In rejecting a piece, an editor either a) suggests changes; or b) simply doesn't like the story. So the writer can either make the changes (or not), or send a different story. And unless that writer's work really sucks potatoes, the editors would probably read any new stories submitted by that writer. But if you argue with them, all that happens is that the writer is screwing up the editor's perception of them personally, on top of having sent a story the editor didn't like.  Not a great basis for a writer/editor relationship. And bear this in mind: those editors ALREADY have GOOD relationships with hundreds of other writers who AREN'T arguing with them.

Regarding longform (novel) editors, it's not a good idea to argue with them, either. The stakes are higher, the work bigger, and so they may (in my experience) be more willing to argue (discuss) a book pre-deal. And that's what makes it an even WORSE idea than arguing with the shortform editors. Because it's very possible the writer would have a chance at winning the argument. To clarify, they'd win the battle of the book, and lose the war of the career.

Seasoned writers will sometimes struggle with this, so it's a harder thing to convince a new writer to believe in: you never, ever want to sell a book to an editor who has to be convinced, coerced, bribed, cajoled, pleaded, persuaded, or otherwise argued into buying your book. Because that hesitation on their part will carry through every stage of the very lengthy and expansive publishing process. That first step determines the direction every one that follows. Make it the right step. Don't sell your book until you have an editor who believes in it so strongly that they're willing to fight on your behalf within their own company. You want someone who will stake their own considerable reputation on the power of the work you have created. And if you can't find an editor like that, then perhaps it's the wrong time for that particular book.

Before HERE, THERE BE DRAGONS, I had opportunities to sell other books I'd written (and some, published); but the circumstances were not right. I had several chances to sell DRAGONS - and turned down several offers before being matched up with Simon & Schuster. Another major, major publisher was willing to be convinced - but was more interested in how the movie deal turned out. My editor at S&S, on the other hand, was totally in love with it after one phone call and a fifteen-page treatment.

Before the book was published, he introduced me to speak at the ALA by telling the audience, "What you are about to hear is the reason why, twenty years from now, you will remember being at this dinner."

Now, do you want an editor who says THAT, or the one who says, "Well, I guess I can take a chance on this, but it'll be a tough sell, and I don't really have a handle on it..."

It all comes down to something I say at every school presentation, repeat often, and tell myself every day: never give up what you want the most, for what you want most at that moment.

If you have to argue your way into a single sale, it may be at the expense of your entire career. Something to consider.

...why don't we sneak another piece of art into the middle of these publishing posts?

So. The LATimes Bookfest 2008.

I started the hourlong signing at 12:30 with a good line of readers. As per usual, I was sketching in the books, and even though I'm faster now (a couple of minutes, tops) at the end of the hour, I STILL had a line but my friend Sonya Sones was scheduled for the table. So I simply moved to stand at the side of the booth, in the shade, and stood there drawing and signing - for nearly four more hours. No breaks. No lull in the line. We sold a ton of books, and my publisher reps were thrilled and the booksellers were thrilled and just the act of drawing in the books kept attracting more buyers.

I signed the books they had left for Sunday sales (and my rep even emailed me after, to see if I could come BACK on Sunday - but I was already out of LA), and the last four book sales were to Neal Shusterman and Cornelia Funke. (Making this fanboy of both look very good to THEIR reps.)

I had a meeting in Scottsdale on the way home, and suggested we meet at the Desert Ridge Barnes & Noble. While I was waiting for my colleagues, I started signing stock - and a line formed, and my meeting was delayed because when they showed up I had a small crowd of people buying books. I was there two hours, and we sold two-thirds of their stock. The manager was very happy. If they aren't our top B&N, they have to be in the top group. He ordered a pile more books on the spot. And THEN I came home.

I am still slightly puzzled/delighted how I rated such a nice, um, room at the hotel - but am no longer feeling even slightly guilty about ordering the creme brulee. (Maybe a little guilty about the $9 cashews from the minibar - but, y'know, it's cashews. In the room.) Saturday was a very, very good day.

So. Regarding the realities of publishing: you are always on stage. Especially when you're actually on stage. It is, to borrow a Disney Company philosophy, an attitude of performance, not merely a job. I wasn't there in LA just to sign autographs - I was there representing both my own career and the reputation of my publisher - and I owed both my best possible performance.

The interesting side effect to a popular performance is that there are other authors there who note they don't draw the same level of attention. Some (I heart you, Sonya) are very diplomatic and philosophical about it; others radiated some seriously negative vibes. I can't apologize for the way they felt - we were all there to promote and sell books - but it's something that each author has to learn to adapt to. For me, it was a lesson I learned in comics.

My friend/mentor Dave Sim was the one who instructed me to sketch in the books. If the guy next to you has a hundred people lined up for HIM, and you have FIVE, you can stretch it out by doing drawings for the five. But here's the secret: drawing in the books gives you a chance to connect with the readers. And so it's ALWAYS a good signing, whether I have five or fifty people attend. And that's the key: the buzz that follows is that every event is a successful event.

If the readers are happy, they'll buy more books. And if you focus on the few that show up to the little events, then eventually, the few become many, who will all continue to support your work.

Because I'd been ill, the deadlines that needed to be wrapped up in March spilled over into April. And it took constant, sustained effort to keep those deadlines from spilling into the latter part of April. This is important because April was set aside to work on the next book(s), so that I'd be ahead, and not racing a deadline next time around.

Also, never assume (on writing OR art) that the editing process is done until it's been verified by, well, everyone. The cover (which editorial liked) was changed at the request of sales & marketing (to the benefit of all); the inside illos on this new book took only minor changes (to two pages) (thank God - on RED DRAGON there were a handful, with some hefty redrawing); and the text (as my writer colleagues can attest) goes through at least five rounds of editing. I'm actually doing one MORE pass on the page proofs.

The school visits are fun, thrilling, and exhausting - especially on those days when I get scheduled for FIVE hourlong presentations.

Then have a store appearance.

Then do some drop in stock signings.

While writing the next book; doing minor art fixes on the current book; and doing the aforementioned edit pass.

And on top of all of that, and personal obligations, and family obligations, and community obligations, and planning for the future, you might still have a bit of the pneumonia, and have to grapple with that while driving nine hours to attend a book festival all the while rolling all of the above around in your head and thinking that a few hours of non-work and a near-vegitative state might be the only thing keeping you from the brink of the galactically-bonkers abyss...

...and you show up at your hotel, and discover your publisher has put you up here.

And all you can think about, in between trying to decide if you're going to eat dinner in the master bedroom, the living room, the office, or the screening room (answer: tune all the screens to the same channel and wander room to room eating hot wings) is that you will go to any effort to do everything your publisher needs, because you know that they are doing everything they can to make you feel valued. And that's a scenario that is nothing but WIN.

More after the LA Times Bookfest.

So, hurrying out the door (a bit like the fellow in the illustration below) on my way to the LA Times Book Festival at UCLA. I'm signing at 12:30 Saturday at the Simon & Schuster booth. If you're in the vicinity, come by and say hello!

I posted a slightly different version of this illustration back when it was the cover art (which it no longer is, having been replaced by one that's more dragon-y). The proportions for a cover are different than the interiors, so the upper part had to be redrawn to make it a better fit for a chapter illo.

This is, to me, THE pivotal scene of the entire book.

...I offer another (the last? I'm not sure how many I've posted) from the upcoming THE INDIGO KING: