Comics People are Good People

As you may or may not know, I dig that whole comic book thing. Most people know Marvel and DC--the ‘Big Two’--and all their superhero-centric story lines, but there is a whole world of comics and graphic novels that are really very far removed from Superman & Co. Personally, I’m partial to Image Comics because of their creator-owned business model and the vastly different comics they publish. But even Image is a large player in the game--there are plenty of smaller publishers putting out quality books all the time, you just don’t hear about it unless you’re attuned to the comics grapevine. I came to comics later in life, but once I was in, I was in. It’s kind of like the mafia, except without the horse heads and mail-order fish and cement shoes. It’s not just about books, though--it’s the people behind them.

Comics pros are infinitely more accessible than, say, your favorite film star. They go to conventions and trade shows and give talks and answer questions and have tables in the exhibitor halls where you can meander by and pick up a print or ask them about their most recent arc in a series. They will engage with you on social media. Comics Twitter is freaking hilarious, BTW. Gail Simone (probably best known for her run of Birds of Prey with DC and Deadpool/Agent X with Marvel) is a delight. Yesterday (2/24) her entire feed was different variations of a song about bananas. Today it’s that picture of the squalling porg from Star Wars and captions making it look like the porg is singing well-known songs at the top of its voice. About a month ago she got hundreds of fast-food chains to weigh in on Marvel vs. DC. Anyway, the point I’m trying to make here is that she is a professional comic writer who could look down her nose at everyone and refuse to engage but instead, in this instance in particular, she incites people to random acts of silliness. My first ever interaction with her was when the news broke that she was going to be writing the character Domino for Marvel. I tweeted:

Me: “OMG, Gail Simone is writing Domino!”
Co-Workers: ::cricket noises::
Me. “...You’re all dead to me.”

She liked it, retweeted it, and followed me, and I don’t remember what happened after that because I passed out. (I didn’t really.)

I’ve had interactions with other comics people who have been just as lovely (if not as cuckoo bananapants), but the general niceness isn’t limited to the creators. Comics retailers, fandom artists and craftspersons, and collectors/merch vendors are, for the most part, also delightful. The staff at my local comic shop are lovely people. There are a couple of dealers I contact regularly-ish because they have a knack for finding what I’m looking for and they are consummate gentlemen. (Trust me, I wouldn’t have anything to do with them if they were sleazeballs. Ain’t nobody got time for that.) Thus far, I haven’t met a single person in comics in any capacity who was less than cordial. Yes, okay, there have been a few cold types, but no one has been a raging dickhead.

You see, the thing about being a raging dickhead in comics is that word gets around. FAST. It’s a larger community than you think, but it’s also very, very close-knit. You snub someone, you slag someone off, you purposefully pass on false information, and no one wants to work with you. Obviously these things are applicable to most industries, but in comics it seems to be deep-rooted, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing--it weeds out the real jerkoffs and lets the decent sorts get on with things.

In the spirit of this, when I was at a small local con a few weeks ago I did my level best to bolster the confidence of a younger member of the comics community. I had finished what I was there to do--buy a giant stack of Blackhawk comics from one of my regular comics retailers--and I was having a wander to see if there was anything else that caught my eye, either for me or for some very early Christmas shopping. (Hey, it pays to be prepared!) There was a young lady, probably somewhere around 13 years old, who had a table where she was selling her artwork. She had samples out and her kit with her, and after I passed her a couple of times I realized that most of us were doing just that--passing her by.

So I stopped.

I looked at what she had laid out, but none of it was related to any particular show or book or film to which I had any particular attachment, so I asked if she took requests.

“Um, I guess?”

“Could you draw my pet rats?”

“Um…”

“I have pictures.”

“That would help.”

So I showed her pictures and while she was scrolling through I noticed that one of her display works was the Powerpuff Girls (for whom my ratties are named).

“They’re named after the Powerpuff Girls. Do you think you could draw them as the Powerpuff Girls?”

“I can try?”

That was good enough for me. I left her for a while and browsed, and eventually made my way back. We chatted as she finished up, and I asked her how much I owed her for her delightful creation. She thought for a minute, clearly unsure how much to ask, then settled on $20.

I gave her $25.

Her whole little face lit up.

For all I know, I was the only person who paid her any mind that day. She may not have sold anything beyond my little commission. But I couldn’t let her sit there unnoticed the whole day, so I did what I could to give her a little ego boost and keep her going.

And besides, the picture is SUPER CUTE.