When we were growing up, someone, at some point, told us that we should figure out what we love to do, what we are truly good at and commit to that full time. What we love doing should be our career – or at least that’s the theory. That’s all well and good but what if you don’t have any idea what that "thing" is? Obviously most of America is in the same boat as 90 percent of the people we know hate their jobs and spend more time complaining than actually working. Come to think about it
what if that 90 percent is only good at complaining? What if complaining is what they should be doing according to this theory? Hmmm, maybe we are on to something here.
Regardless, we do know this one guy that all this worked out for. His name is unimportant, but we’ll refer to him as Juicy Bottoms McGee just so things don’t get confusing. Juicy Bottoms McGee is a comic book writer. He sits on his ass, all day, and occasionally gets around to writing comic books. He doesn’t get paid a lot but he makes enough to get by fairly comfortably. What he does do is anything he wants. If Juicy Bottoms McGee wakes up and decides he’d really like to kill someone that day, he does. If he wakes up and wants to see some half naked chick doing high kicks (which oddly enough ends up being most days) he makes it happen.
That’s what life should be like. Dreaming up stories involving halter tops, unoportional body parts, evil schemes, extreme violence and a minimum amount of actual text (comic book readers don’t like to many words – they want boobs not prose). Life shouldn’t involve sitting at a computer all day office listening to the personal dramas of barely functioning women who are pretending to be everyone’s best friend just so they don’t get fired when the layoffs come around.
To a comic book writer, ass kissing is literal. If a comic book writer writes "Gwen kisses Mary Jane’s ass" you can bet your own ass that the comic book being written will feature an image of Gwen’s lips pressed to the ass of Mary Jane. Coincidentally, this year’s Comic-Con had some very similar imagery. We actually heard someone say "Could I get a picture of Spider-Man hugging He-Man?" The answer to that very innocent question (asked by a 40-year-old dude) was a resounding "No" from both Spider-Man and He-man. That day we learned half naked men wearing fur underpants can still be homophobic.
But that’s a digression and neither here nor there.
After 25 (Aaron) and 30 (Jeff) years of doing this life thing, we have finally realized that the life of Juicy Bottoms McGee is the one for us. We want to be comic book writers. Scratch that; we will be comic book writers. We just have to figure out how to get there. We have a sneaky suspicion that Satan and Macbeth play a pretty big role in the process so we’ll see.
We are giving ourselves until April 2008 to get going. If we haven’t made it by then we’ll probably just fall back on our day jobs. But if we are able to make it happen, then look out; boobs and blood will be flying with a fury not seen since the Spanish Inquisition.
First step: Figure out how to write. Well, we like to think that we’ve already got that down. At least we hope we do, otherwise we’ve been wasting a lot of time. Honestly, the actual writing hasn’t been the problem as of late. It’s the finishing thing that we’ve had a little trouble with. See, we come up with all kinds of ideas and every single one of those ideas kicks ass. So, when these kick-ass ideas come up we get all gung ho about it
for about three days. Then we have another kick-ass idea and the vicious cycle repeats itself. But usually, the stuff that we do actually finish is pretty damn special. The Scoop films on YouTube.com are proof of that.
We do need to figure out how to write a comic book though. See, writing comic scripts is way different that sitting here writing a column. You need to do layouts. You need to tell how many panels there are on a page and how big those panels are. You need to tell the artist exactly what is going on in each panel. Then you need to write the dialog. It sounds like a lot, and it is, but lying on the couch reading a comic book makes it look easy. Easy until you actually try to do it. We recently had the pleasure of writing a sample script for a potential comic job. Hard as fuck. Aaron ended up writing only about four pages worth of material, but that four pages took him about seven hours to do. He wasn’t even being lazy about it. It just took that long to do. Add to that the two hours that Jeff spent doing the layout. We tell ya, it was hard work, but at least we were pleased with the end result. Hopefully our boy Bob and his buddy Ben are as keen on it as we are. "Keen." Now that is a word that will hopefully be featured heavily in our future.
Step two: Get some one to buy our shit. Regardless if our mainstream gig pans out, we will be writing a comic book in the coming months. Hopefully someone will give us money for it. But even if that doesn’t happen, a book still needs to be written. We have a few ideas (see above), we have a lot of coffee and we have re-runs of "Pee Wee’s Playhouse" so we should be set. Unfortunately, there are things going against us. Girlfriends and girls we want to be girlfriends being the main distractions. Then there is the weekly delivery of new comics – and the aforementioned "Pee Wee’s Playhouse." Adversity be damned, we will finish a comic book (or three) and ship them out to publishers. With all the crap they put out surely ours will be at least good enough for Image.
Step three: Wait. We will wait until we get that rejection letter (the one we are already pretty damn familiar with) and send it out again to someone else. We’ve been down several roads like this before (see above) so we have a feel for how long stuff like this takes. At any rate, giving us a couple years should be more than enough time to get it going.
That’s the plan, now we just have to get on it. Make it happen – just like Juicy Bottoms McGee. The only thing stopping us is ourselves. And the work thing. And did we mention the girl that Aaron wants to bang? Yeah, those things can stop us too.