by Chris Ryall
The formula is simple — good writing plus good artwork equals sales, or at least the best chance for a book to find an audience. Some lessons are learned the hard way, and this was a difficult one well-learned. Which is fitting for an industry that gave us the refrain “with great power comes great responsibility.”
PART 11
BREAKING IT DOWN
Wherein the construction of a comic book is analyzed — pages are broken down, creators' roles defined — the ultimate difference between comic books and graphic novels gives way to a list every comic-book fan should absorb.
1 Anatomy of a Comic Book
The power of the printing press
IDW Publishing's 30 Days Of Night was originally released as a three-issue miniseries and then collected into one graphic novel.
30 DAYS OF NIGHT #1 COVER BY ASHLEY WOOD. 30 DAYS OF NIGHT © 2002 STEVE NILES, BEN TEMPLESMITH AND IDEA AND DESIGN WORKS, LLC.
A comic book is defined by Merriam-Webster as “a magazine containing sequences of comic strips — usually hyphenated in attributive use.” Simple enough. But in the sixty-odd years since the definition was put forth, some things have changed a bit, requiring some expansion and clarification.
Comic books have had an uphill climb to critical acceptance largely because of the connotations of the word “comic.” It doesn't help newcomers that the term “comic books” is often shortened to “comics,” a term that may conjure images of both funny newspaper strips and stand-up comedians. In essence, comic books are neither comics nor books, but are composed of elements of both.
PARTS OF A WHOLE
Comic books are made up of bound, stapled pages. The pages come off the printing press in spreads — a front page and back page that are printed together then folded in half. These folded spreads, known to the printer as a signature, are placed over a saddle — in the early days it actually was a saddle — and stapled along the spine by a saddle-stitch stapler. This may seem like not-so-exciting information, but it is important to understand when discussing the different formats of comic books and their thicker counterparts, graphic novels. In the 1950s and '60s, comic books with thicker page counts, usually eighty pages or more, were differentiated as “Specials,” “Annuals,” or the more obvious “80-Page Giants.” These books had a true spine, but were still considered comic books. Only in the past two decades or so have longer-form comic books started to be referred to as graphic novels, a term defined and explained later in this section.
THE COVER
The Chinese proverb that states, “a picture is worth a thousand words,” applies to a visual medium like comic books in general, but even more so to their covers.
The cover of a comic book works hard to grab readers. The image must be striking and intriguing, beckoning the reader to want to read more. But because comic books have far shorter page lengths than novels and are serialized in nature, it's important not to give away any big moment in the comic. Cliffhangers are best left for the end of an issue, not spoiled on the cover.
With a comic-book cover, you will typically find the logo of the comic situated in the top quarter of the page. This is more of a guide than a rule. Comics used to be sold on waterfall- like newsstand racks, so it was important to be able to see the title from underneath other comics and magazines. Artists occasionally will change the placement of the logo, or in some cases depict a character blocking it or shattering it to add more impact. Unlike novels, comics appear every month with the same title so sometimes drastic steps are necessary to call attention to a title.
In the 1950s, publishers — we're looking at you, DC Comics — started a trend of producing covers that had nothing to do with the interior story. They showed images of shocking weddings or unexpected team-ups or even more bizarre imagery, all sleight of hand intended to lure the reader in. It got so prevalent that when a shocking image actually did apply to the story, the caption “Not a hoax! Not an imaginary story!” was added to the cover.
In this impactful cover, the Mighty Thor and his logo have both seen better days.
THE MIGHTY THOR #337: © 1983 MARVEL ENTERTAINMENT, INC. USED WITH PERMISSION. ART BY WALTER SIMONSON.
Exclamatory expressions and word balloons were used on covers more prevalently than they are today. The publishers wanted to leave nothing to chance. Create a good piece of art, add to it some captivating dialogue and likely draw in the potential customer. And if that's not enough, add a blurb to help further hype the issue (“This issue: someone dies!”). When you're a kid, and you see these colorful characters, and read some interesting dialogue, and get teased that the issue features a momentous development, too — well, they've got you.
Covers also carry other relevant information: the price, the publisher's logo and, until the bigger publishers finally did away with it, the “Approved by the Comics Code Authority” stamp. In recent years, they've also contained UPC bar codes — an eyesore when placed on top of comic-book cover art, but necessary for retailers to ring up and track sales.
THE NUMBERS GAME
The final element on the comic book's cover is the issue number, a topic unto itself. You'd think it would be easy — issue #2 follows #1, and so on. However, this simple matter got complicated a couple of decades ago. In the mid-1980s, DC's Crisis on Infinite Earths series led to the relaunch of titles like Superman, Justice League and Wonder Woman. Titles that had been running consistently for nearly a half-century, with numbering into the 400s and beyond, were now starting over with a new issue #1. Marvel did the same thing a few years later, with its Heroes Reborn series, ending long-running series like Fantastic Four, Captain America and The Avengers and restarting them from scratch.
The reason for this is that new first issues, especially those featuring popular characters, always see a spike in sales. So, when a comic's numbering runs into the hundreds, it can be good business sense to relaunch the title with a new #1.
However, comic-book fans take issue numbering very seriously. If they've been collecting a title for years, and have amassed a run of continuous issues into the hundreds, a new #1 just breaks this streak and causes consternation (long-time comics fans can be rather vocal about their likes and dislikes). As a result, Marvel and DC made a concession to fans, keeping the new numbering but also adding a smaller number to the cover stating what number the comic would be had a new series not started. So a new issue #3 might also be shown as being issue #465.
Confusing? Welcome to the world of comic-book collecting.
CHRIS SAYS
When I was young, the cover was also the place where a publisher exercised advance damage control. In the 1970s, a blurb on the cover that stated, “Still only 35¢!” was a sure indication that a nickel or dime price increase was coming in the next few months. To me it translated, “Your allowance is on borrowed time! Next month or the month after, we're coming for even more of it.”
2 The comic-book Page
Breaking it downReading comics can be tricky, especially if you've never experienced them through the malleable eyes of a kid. Just as a foreign film with subtitles requires a different viewing approach, comic books ask more of the reader than a typical prose novel or magazine.
Let's assume the cover of a comic has beckoned and you've given in and bought the sucker. Now what? Opening the comic, you are typically faced with an ad on the inside front cover. The story itself begins on the right-facing page, the splash page, where the comic book's page numbering begins. Same as any magazine. Simple.
THE SPLASH PAGE
The first page of the story, especially in superhero comic books, is the splash page.
The complete page is usually one large, eye-catching image that kicks off the story. It also can lead in to an even more eye-catching art spread that fills the entirety of pages 2 and 3.
The splash page commonly contains two other elements beyond eye-catching artwork: the subtitle for the issue (if there is one) and the issue's creator credits. We say “commonly” because on occasion,
the title of an issue is held until a crucial opening scene is complete, much as you'd see in, say, a James Bond movie. And sometimes, to really make an impression on the reader, or just to prevent a secret from being spoiled at the start, the title will be held until the final page of an issue. One of the best examples of this is The Amazing Spider-Man #121 (June 1973), which thankfully held the issue's title, “The Night Gwen Stacy Died,” until the shocking final-page cliffhanger.
The splash page of The Amazing Spider-Man #121. When Gwen Stacy died in this shocking reveal, so did much of comics' innocence.
AMAZING SPIDER-MAN #121: © 1973 MARVEL ENTERTAINMENT, INC. USED WITH PERMISSION. ART BY GIL KANE, JOHN ROMITA SR. AND TONY MORTELLARO. COLORS BY ANDY YANCHUS.
THE COMIC-BOOK PAGE
comic-book pages are made up of multiple panels, the same as a newspaper strip, and arranged to be read in sequential order, top-left to bottom-right on each page. Training your eye to pay heed to both the words and the visuals in each panel can take some practice. Unlike most newspaper strips, comic-book storytelling consists of more than just a visual that services the dialogue. The visuals might show one thing while the words say another, or the words and visuals may purposely contradict each other to make a larger point. Some nuances of the story can be lost if the reader fails to process the two on their own merits, understanding how they connect to the larger story. A tendency for new comic-book readers is to read the words on the page first, and then go back and look at the images. But only when each panel is taken in all at once does the story truly come alive.
Word balloons can bring a scene to life as explosively as the art itself.
UNCANNY X-MEN #134: © 1980 MARVEL ENTERTAINMENT, INC. USED WITH PERMISSION. ART BY JOHN BYRNE AND TERRY AUSTIN. COLORS BY GLYNIS WEIN.
WORD BALLOONS
A word balloon is the speech bubble in which a character's dialogue appears. Most comics do what has always been done — place the balloon above or near the speaking character's head and lead a pointed balloon tail down near the speaker's mouth. Different comic books have played with this format a bit. Spawn tried something new when it launched in the early 1990s — placing the words atop a straight line and using another line to represent what would be the balloon's tail — but the use of word balloons remains one of comic books' oldest and most familiar conventions.
Within the balloon, the words can be of varying sizes, or given added emphasis through bolding and italics or even outlining. Punctuation, broken letters, colored words and different balloon shapes are other common word styles.
THOUGHT BUBBLES
In addition to speech balloons, a unique element to comic-book storytelling is the thought bubble. It appears as a cloud shape with a trail of bubbles leading to the person thinking the thoughts. Though out of vogue in today's comics, the thought bubble was an effective way for a writer to show a character's thoughts and reveal his personality.
CAPTIONS
When comic books started becoming more adult-oriented in the mid-1980s, word balloons gave way to caption boxes that contained a character's inner monologue, the same way voice-over is used in film. This accomplishes the same basic purpose of the thought balloon, but is considered by writers a more sophisticated way to let the reader peer inside a character's head. As with word balloons, any convention can become a crutch if used too often. This may explain why “archaic” thought balloons are making a comeback and captions are now used more sparingly.
Caption boxes are also used to establish time and place, to spell out for the reader details that might not be conveyed through art or word balloons. These kinds of captions present omniscient facts and details about specific settings.
In EC comics of the 1950s, captions also served as art direction for the artist, which is why many EC comics feature large caption boxes explaining exactly what is happening in a scene, coupled with art doing exactly the same.
What would a hard-boiled horror-noir tale be without the private dick's interior monologue captions?
DEAD SHE SAID #1. © 2008 IDW PUBLISHING AND STEVE NILES. PUBLISHED BY IDW PUBLISHING. ART BY BERNIE WRIGHTSON. COLOR BY GRANT GOLEASH.
LETTERS PAGE
Periodicals have long offered pages dedicated to letters to the editor, and comics are no different. Before the advent of the Internet, letters pages were a great way to accomplish multiple goals, including:
Building loyalty. The printing of letters makes readers feel more invested in the comic book. Readers who write in obviously care enough about the creative team or characters to offer their opinions; they also stick around to see if their letters are printed months later, or if their suggestions are taken to heart and reflected in later issues.
“Circle 7,” written by Chris for Gene Simmons House of Horrors, used captions that paid homage to the EC Comics of the 1950s.
GENE SIMMONS HOUSE OF HORRORS #1 © 2007 GENE SIMMONS AND IDEA AND DESIGN WORKS, LLC. PUBLISHED BY IDW PUBLISHING. ART BY STEPH STAMB.
Speaking directly to the readers. Editors, and in many cases the creators themselves, will reply to the mail they receive, and this personal interaction with creators engenders a close relationship with the readers.
Promotion. In lettercol (short for letter column) replies to letters, editors can hype upcoming storylines and other titles.
In the case of Marvel Comics under Stan Lee, all three things were accomplished on a monthly basis. Stan's conversational manner of speaking to fans brought them closer to the company. The formation of fan clubs was a logical outgrowth of this, and soon every “Marvel zombie” was eager to join the Merry Marvel Marching Society (M.M.M.S.) and band together in support of Marvel's titles.
In recent years, the proliferation of message boards and fan forums has resulted in even more direct interaction with some creators, but at the expense of many letters pages. Fans can post on message boards the same day an issue is released and can often engage the creators themselves. Still, some of today's writers recognize the value of letters columns and have brought them back in successful ways. Brian Michael Bendis (Powers), Robert Kirkman (The Walking Dead and Invincible) and Eric Powell (The Goon) have all built loyal readerships through engaging lettercols.
CHRIS SAYS
Letters pages have always been a big part of my overall comic-book experience. I recall writing a long, rambling missive regarding Fantastic Four #208 when I was eight years old. It never got printed, nor did it deserve to be, but it did land me one of Marvel's famed “No-Prizes,” a blank envelope that contained literally no prize.
Many established comics pros first caught the attention of editors through their letters, too. Roy Thomas, Mark Gruenwald, Mark Waid, Kurt Busiek, Beau Smith and even your esteemed co-writer of this book were printed numerous times before ever going pro. You always remember the whens and wheres, too: I was first printed in an old issue of Swamp Thing and again years later in an issue of Brian Michael Bendis's Fortune and Glory.
Chris's First Letter: SwampThing #118, 1992
Even worse than seeing old photos of my bad haircuts is re-reading my old lettercol ramblings.
SCOTT SAYS
Yours truly was also a letterhack back in the day, with letters printed in The West Coast Avengers, The Incredible Hulk, Secret Origins, Solo Avengers and Captain America, just to name a few. Back in junior high school, I remember it being a great feeling to open that comic book and see my letter in the back; it instilled a feeling of community within the comic book biz that I think is sadly missing these days. My lettercol contributions also led to my friendship with Marvel editor Mark Gruenwald. But we'll get back to that later.
Scott's Letter: Solo Avengers #6, 1988
For the record, I typed “Dr. Druid” in the letter at left when I wrote it, not “Dr. David.” Yes, I typed my letters to the editor. I was that big a geek, and I'm that old.
3 The The Roles of Creators
Giving credit where it's due“What do you mean, it takes more than one person to create a comic boo
k?”
Comic creators have often been asked this question by a friend or family member. The idea that an assembled team is needed to produce comic books seems to surprise anyone new to the industry. Perhaps this is because comic books to the uninitiated are thought to be the same as newspaper strips, and strips are by and large created by one person. Peanuts? No one but Charles Schulz ever put a line on the page or a word in a balloon for that strip. But with only a few very skillful exceptions, nearly all comic books are put together by a committee. Even those gifted cartoonists who both write and draw their own stories usually make use of various support staff, be it inkers, letterers or colorists, not to mention the services provided by a publisher, such as production and editorial work. So, before we go into the hows of getting a comic book produced, let's define a few terms.
WRITER
Generally, the person credited as writer is responsible for the direction of the story (or script), the structure of the narrative, and the creation and cultivation of character through dialogue. Occasionally you'll see the role broken down even further, into plotter and scripter. The plotter generates the narrative thrust and twists and turns of the storyline, while the scripter provides the actual words that appear in the story, dialogue and captions. In this way, comic-book scripts are not so different from screenplays or teleplays. In comics, the camera or stage direction takes the form of panel direction, descriptions that inform the artist what to draw and where.
The writer serves as the director for the production, moving the action along from panel to panel and page to page. comic-book scriptwriting presents some challenges that differ from screenplays. Each panel must convey only one action, and the words and images need to complement each other, rather than just using words to describe the art.