It seems that everyone who dabbles in critical writing on comic books, is a cartoonist of either the professional or amateur variety. At times cartoonists will review books referred to them by people who have reviewed their own books, the same books reviewed by the first cartoonist, and so on. While this is not necessarily a good aspect of comics due to the fact that it creates a very cliquish community, I cannot deny that it applies to me. In January, I self published the first issue of my mini-comic titled, "The Tenth frame".

When I say self-published, I mean that I printed up an incredibly small print run at Kinko's and proceeded to sell them through the mail. This is standard practice when marketing and creating mini-comics. My previous column "Mini-Comics and Personal Expression" included an extensive definition of what a mini-comic is, but I'll provide a brief summary here. The term mini-comic is misleading. Mini-comics do not have to be of small proportions, but they usually are. Mini-comics are usually the works of cartoonists starting out in comics, or cartoonists who are fed up with trying to get their work carried by major publishers. Because printing comics costs a great amount of money, having small print runs is more economical. Thus, the term mini-comics applies to most amateur, self-published work. Usually mini-comics are created at home and photocopied at the local copy store.

There are countless mini-comics being created in North America, perhaps thousands, probably even hundreds of thousands. Notable creators who got their start in mini-comics include Chester Brown (Yummy Fur), and Adrian Tomine (Optic Nerve). Many of the current up-and-comers were mini-comic artists a short while ago: James Kochalka, Ron Rege Jr., Brain Ralph, and Megan Kelso to name a few. There are also those creators who love the aesthetics of the mini-comic, and seem to have no intentions to move on, such as John Porcellino, who has published 56 issues of his mini-comic King Cat (typically, mini-comics rarely last past 15 issues. The artist either gives up, or is picked up by a publisher). Perhaps to get a better idea of what mini-comics are the readers of this column could compare them to Zines. Zines are well-known, especially punk zines. An analogy: Music Zines: Rolling Stone, then Mini-comics: Mainstream comics.

So, I had wanted to do a mini-comic for quite a while. I have great enthusiasm for comics and have created my own comics for years. Of course, at some point, you want others to be aware of your work, and to me mini-comics seemed like the best way to do this. I'm presenting how I went about doing this to *spark-online's readership so that you can get a better understanding of how mini-comics work and, if you want, make your own.

Perhaps the most important aspect is an obvious one: picking a subject. Most amateur cartoonists pick autobiography as their starting off point since the task of creating a fictional story is not a worry. Many cartoonists do very well with this subject matter. I even used it for the prototype of one of my mini-comics (it was my first stab at this sort of thing and I printed up only 5 copies, which I did not market it at all). However, to be honest, I believe autobiography is better left to seasoned professionals. For the artist themselves, it is a wonderful training ground, but if your goal is to create something interesting for your readership (and this should be your ultimate goal), autobiography can prove tricky. Many cartoonists fall into the trap of taking mundane events and having their sole appeal be that "This really happened!"

When established cartoonists like R. Crumb and Harvey Pekar work in autobiography it is a fascinating genre (if you can call it that), which demonstrates to me that autobiography is more complex than it seems, and perhaps is not the best area for the amateur cartoonist. (As you read this, keep in mind that I am the most amateurish of amateur cartoonists).

For my subject, I chose to do a cartoon biography of Thelonious Monk, the famous bebop pianist.I chose him as a subject because, first of all, I love the music of Thelonious Monk, and it can be said that the man himself is just as interesting, if not more so. Secondly, doing a biography has the same advantages of autobiography: the problem of writing fiction is eliminated. Lastly, writing about Thelonious Monk provides the comic with appeal outside the world of comics. Jazz fans might be interested in this, or music fans in general.

The actual piecing together of a mini-comic is what stops many people in their tracks. It's important to accept early on that not everything will be perfect. In fact (and maybe this only applies to me), more things will go wrong than will go right. My biggest problem is that I have no actual art training. Again, I rely on enthusiasm. In my case, I'm using mini-comics in their traditional vein: as a training ground. There are countless artists who use them for complete artistic expression, John Porcellino being the best example. Perhaps as I get better at this, I'll use it less as a training ground, and more as art. I'd say it's about 50/50 now.

The atmosphere I worked in was very important. Since the comic was about jazz, I played countless jazz records in the background as I worked, specifically recordings by Monk himself. Giant's baseball, especially on the radio, also proved to be good entertainment to listen to while working. When I was most comfortable, hours could go by and I wouldn't notice. When nothing was going right, time crawled and its crawling was all I could think of.

Just because a mini-comic results in a small format, does not mean that the images have to be drawn small. It was impossible for me to draw the detail I wanted to get across in the comic in tiny panels. So, I drew the panels as large as I wanted (3 by 4), and when the pages were completed, I brought them to the copy store and reduced them. More on that later.

I drew the images in pencil first, and then went over them in ink. I used a rapidograph, an amazing tool, particularly good for cross-hatching techniques (although one of the biggest criticisms I got was that I cross hatched far too much). I felt ill at ease with the rapidograph at first, but soon became more comfortable with it than regular writing tools.

The reducing of the images and actual pasting up of the comic took a full Sunday. I became so excited that the project was nearing completion, that I pasted many panels crookedly, and paste flowed out from under them. Twenty-four hours later, the staff of Kinkos would struggle with the printing job, as pages stuck together. Readers of the mini-comic will notice lines of dialogue on the final pages are hard to read for that very reason.

The bus ride to Kinko's after everything was pasted was filled with dreams of glory, along with nightmares of ridicule. Every strength of the comic was made monumental in my mind, while the faults received similar treatment.

Days later, when I picked up the copies I had ordered, it was hard to determine what I thought. Seeing one's work produced in large numbers is both nauseating and exhilarating. For me, it was more nauseating than anything else. The fact that the printing job cost quite a bit was also disheartening. I planned to charge $1.00 per copy, but the actual printing cost $2.00. Obviously, I'm not in this for the money (but what cartoonist is?).

It was at this time that my "promotion" of the book began. I contacted various local stores about carrying the book; one obliged. Otherwise, I marketed the book on the Internet, on both comic themed sites as well as jazz sites. In addition (and for those who plan to make their own mini-comics, this next step is very important), I sent free copies to various "review sites". There are many sites on the Internet that review Zines and mini-comics, the only requirement being that you send the writers a free copy. I myself have this policy over at www.indyworld.com. As of now, "The Tenth Frame" has received three generally positive reviews (heavy on constructive criticism), all resulting in small spurts of interest.

After the mailing of free copies, I began to wait. Fortunately, an order came in the very first day, from Germany of all places. It was a gigantic relief that at least one person wanted to buy the comic. I honestly thought that might be the only order, but I was lucky enough to sell the entire print run in about 5 months.

The letters I received in response to the book were the most satisfying aspect after the actual writing and drawing. Almost every order was by a cartoonist (the cliquey aspect coming into play), and their criticisms are basically shaping the look of the second issue.

When I sat down to start the first issue of "The Tenth Frame", I had no idea whether I would be able to complete it at all, much less have any interest in doing a second issue. The fact that I got through the process of completing the debut is only one hurdle in this process, but I'd like to think it's a big one. Hopefully people who read this, who have thought they couldn't pass that hurdle, might not see it as so intimidating. It's actually kind of fun getting over it.

Copyright © 2000 Austin English All Rights Reserved

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