Poppy! is Multiversity’s Pick of the Week!

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I’m really excited about this one! I’m a longtime fan of Brian Hurtt, and working with Matt Kindt on MIND MGMT and his other Dark Horse projects was among the most exciting times I’ve had in comics. Plus, I always want to see more comics out there for younger readers, so when Matt’s agent pitched Poppy! and the Lost Lagoon, it hit all my bases.

The book was fascinating to watch come together, with Matt and Brian collaborating on both the story and art, and a few big tweet sessions showed them working side by side, Brian inking and Matt painting, for a result that doesn’t look quite like either of their other work but is also distinctly both of theirs. I left Dark Horse while they were making their final push to complete the book (as Brian also somehow drew the triple-sized The Sixth Gun #50, his Oni editors and I keeping in touch to coordinate), so thanks to my awesome colleague, editor Daniel Chabon, for finishing it up so ably!

Now Multiversity Comics has named Poppy! as its Pick of the Week. Well deserved, and congrats to Matt and Brian on your beautiful work and the reception it’s receiving!

Poppy! hit comics stores yesterday and will be in book stores and digital formats in a couple weeks. It’s a joy to behold.

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Out this week: Dark Horse Presents #22

IMG_0248The latest issue of Dark Horse’s multiple Eisner- and Harvey-winning anthology has a great cover story written and drawn by Black Hammer, DescenderAll-New Hawkeye, and Bloodshot Reborn writer Jeff Lemire, “The Witches of Mars,” and you should pick it up! Jeff did painted color himself, and his frequent collaborator Steve Wands is on lettering.

This grew out of a casual check-in at last year’s San Diego Comic-Con, as we got coffee and caught up on the progress of Jeff and Dean Ormston’s series Black Hammer (debuting in July!). I asked Jeff if he’d like to do something for Dark Horse Presents, and he immediately said yes. He didn’t have anything particular in mind, but because there were already so many approved stories and his schedule was so full, we figured he had plenty of time.

As it turned out, Jeff came up with “The Witches of Mars” pretty quickly, and he was excited enough by the story that a script and then art came long before his deadline. We all loved it enough that we asked if he could fit in a cover, and before we knew it, we had that too. As usual, I offered a little feedback, but what you see is almost exactly what Jeff turned in, because he nailed it from the beginning.

“The Witches of Mars” is my only contribution to this issue of DHP, but I’m looking forward to reading new “Finder,” as always, and am also excited for the latest from Dennis Calero’s “The Suit,” Paul Levitz and Tim Hamilton’s “Brooklyn Blood,” and the rest. I’ll be reading with excitement, and you should too!

(Also out this week, and in the picture above, is Matt Kindt and Sharlene Kindt’s Dept. H #2. While I helped out in the early development of this series before going freelance, the editorial heavy lifting has been done by my successor, editor Daniel Chabon, so I can say with only a little bias that it is absolutely worth your time. And Stan Sakai’s Usagi Yojimbo #154 is something everyone should read, and as I read the series religiously long before I edited it and still do now that I am no longer connected to it, I feel completely unbiased in pushing it on anyone who will listen.)

Podcast appearance: What Do I Know?

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I love podcasts. I listen to podcasts while walking, while exercising, while cooking. A friend and I recently recorded a few test episodes of a podcast to see how that would go, and the results were not as bad as I’d have expected, though not yet ready for primetime. If we end up going ahead with it, we’ll be recording several more tests before putting together a real one.

In the meantime, I sometimes have the privilege of being a guest on other people’s podcasts. Most recently, I was invited onto the What Do I Know? podcast, hosted by Jason Gentry and LARP! artist Marlin Shoop. We talked a bit about me, Archie vs. Predator, comics on newsstands, the similarity between the Masters of the Universe movie and Jack Kirby’s New Gods (though never having seen the movie, I mostly spend that segment confused), and more.

Check it out on Podbean, iTunes, and other places. It’s a good, wide-ranging talk, and I had a lot of fun making bad jokes!

Book announcement: Dare2Draw New Talent Mentoring Anthology!

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Been quietly plugging away at this since January, so I am thrilled it’s out in the world now. I’m very proud that the wonderful nonprofit Dare2Draw reached out to me to edit the inaugural issue of their New Talent Mentoring Anthology, and it has been a joy working with the up-and-coming artists D2D recruited for this showcase. We’ve paired each artist with a pro writer to give them a unique chance to learn, be seen, and put a paid art gig on their resumes, and the results so far have been excellent.

Looking even further into the future these artists will help make, the initial volume’s lineup also boasts a pair of artists currently finishing their studies at the Joe Kubert School, and the school has been instrumental in making the book a reality.

In addition, we are privileged to have the backing of Mike Baron and Steve Rude and the use of their creation, Nexus, which I was lucky enough to work on at Dark Horse as well. There will be a different creator-owned character at the center of each annual anthology, and the lineup so far is amazing, with each selection on the level of Nexus!

That’s about all I can say for now, but keep an eye out for teaser art from our talented newcomers and announcements of the pro writers involved very soon, plus word on where and when the book is debuting and how you can get a copy!

In case you are unfamiliar with Dare2Draw, check out their website. In addition to the anthology, D2D host regular events designed to provide mentoring, networking, and the joy of comics to artists new and established. They’re doing great work!

We Won A Ghastly Award!

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I am delighted to learn that Archie vs. Predator has won the Ghastly Award for Best Limited Series! Alex de Campi, Fernando Ruiz, Rich Koslowski, Jason Millet, and John Workman knocked the series out of the park, and I had so much fun I almost had to quit comics afterward, because how do you follow Archie vs. Predator?!

The Ghastly Awards are a great organization, with nominees and winners selected by professionals working in horror comics. I was previously honored to share the award for Best Anthology with Sierra Hahn when we won for Creepy Comics in 2012.

Thank you so much to the awards administrators and everyone who voted. The series was a privilege to edit, and it is deeply gratifying to see that it’s still receiving acclaim.

Self-Promotion from the Shadows

Four months into freelance editing, my daily life isn’t much like it used to be. Instead of commuting to Dark Horse, I work at a cleared-off desk in my apartment or, weather permitting, at one of the long tables with electrical outlets at the public library. Instead of chasing artists, I chase publishers. Instead of receiving invoices, I send them.

But I’ve done all that before, having freelanced in the legal field prior to breaking into comics. The biggest and most difficult adjustment in my new endeavor is the need to remain visible through active self-promotion, something which does not come naturally to me, to say the least. I’ve always preferred a behind-the-scenes role.

As a staff editor, that’s no problem, since you get paid every week whether or not the field at large knows who you are, and when attracting talent you trade on the reputation of your company at least as much as on your own. For the majority of my time at Dark Horse I made virtually no effort to be recognized by comics websites or fandom, though I worked hard to maintain relationships with talent, which is a separate matter. I pushed all my books on social media, but kept the focus off myself.

Recently the creative team of an upcoming title I’m editing offered to list my name along with everyone else’s on the series’ covers. I was flattered, and from a mercenary, self-promotional angle, I was tempted to take them up on it. Ultimately I declined, as it just didn’t feel right. Not immoral or anything, but simply in keeping with my belief that comics editors should be invisible, appreciated in some general sense but rarely if ever singled out publicly.

It is, as I understand it, an accident of history that comics editors are credited for each title they work on, while book editors are not. Though many book publishers today have their own comics imprints (often not including editorial credits in books), what we think of as the comics industry derives from the magazine business, where editors are known and credited. Even as comic books became graphic novels, the tradition remained.

Because editors are routinely credited, they end up getting a great deal of attention in online press as ambassadors of series and sometimes as members of creative teams or svengalis. This focus warps the audience’s understanding of editors’ roles and invites a level of ego that is at odds with the job of supporting someone else’s vision. I have worked with editors whose actual talents lay in finding new places to add their names rather than in their facility with story or their people skills, to the detriment of the books and the reputation of editors as a group.

But it’s hard to deny that those editors who court the spotlight become the ones people hear about, and the ones people hear about are the ones they think of when hiring. Now that I work for myself, I only work if I convince creators and publishers that they want me specifically to edit a project, which requires being visible on a regular basis, and therein lies the dilemma.

I am used to writing up books I’ve edited, pushing stuff out through social media, and contacting friends and colleagues to share. Knowing I would go freelance in 2015, I stepped up efforts to do the same for myself throughout the year—starting to tweet (@BrendanWasright), doing more interviews, and attending SDCC for the first time—but the actual announcement was the test. I think I swung it, scoring articles on a few sites and having congratulations come in all week through social media and e-mail, but it required going against my natural wiring.

I still briefly forget that it’s not enough to acquire a gig like editing comics for Starburns Industries; you also have to announce and promote it, because success breeds success. You get hired because potential clients see other people hire you. The same goes for periodically reminding Facebook and Twitter, as I did yesterday, that you are open for business when much of what you work on as a consultant goes uncredited (as it should).

It’s immensely gratifying every time someone wants to work with me on my own and not as a representative of a company, but it’s a strange feeling telling the world to look at me after spending the previous years of my career pushing all the attention at others. It still doesn’t quite feel like what an editor is supposed to be doing, but it’s the price of working for one’s self, and the benefits have been tremendous, so I’ll get better at telling people to look at me, and once they do, I’ll tell them to look at the people who hired me, because it’s really their show.


Say it with me: for all your comics editing needs, as well as pitch and crowdfunding consulting, write to editing@brendanhwright.com.

New Gig! Starburns Industries!

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I tried to bring Dan Harmon’s ingenious sitcom Community to comics for years, and came close a couple times. I could see what it would look like, could imagine the fun the writers and characters would have with the comics medium, just as they had with stop-motion animation, anime and countless film genres before. The show’s rabid fanbase resurrected it again and again when so many other shows fell for good, and I believed they would follow Harmon to comics. A lot of them were clearly already comics fans. “Six issues and trade,” I told anyone who’d listen.

But it was a very complicated thing to get done. I originally talked to Harmon during season 3, when the show’s future was uncertain, and picked back up with him toward the end of season 5, when its cancellation by NBC made a comic appear the likeliest chance for continuation before its stay of execution came one last time, in the guise of Yahoo Screen. After a bunch of white-knuckle ups and downs, the project ended up in my list of the ones that got away (every editor has them). Buy me a beer at a con sometime for the super dramatic blow-by-blow of those three years.

Even though Community never happened, the time and effort have paid off. In the summer of 2014, in what turned out to be the final days before Yahoo made the deal that brought Community back, I visited Harmon’s animation studio Starburns Industries for the first time. I had reintroduced myself to Harmon at a podcast taping in Portland after the previous attempt to bring the show to comics had fizzled, and now over tacos and beer we discussed what a comic version could bring to the series. I’ve rarely had a more educational conversation than I did talking story with Harmon that day, and it was clear why the show and his Adult Swim series Rick and Morty are so brilliant.

In retrospect, the other thing we talked about that day turned out to be more consequential. Harmon was interested in Starburns Industries creating original comics, and pitched several possibilities. It made total sense: in addition to the numerous comics references in his various projects, like the Kickpuncher comic that came packaged with the DVD of Community season 1, plus the fact that the Harmontown podcast tapes at Meltdown Comics in LA, Harmon’s history with comics goes back to writing for the original run of his friend Rob Schrab’s wonderful Scud: The Disposable Assassin and its spinoff La Cosa Nostroid.

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I took the second try at Community and another project back with me to Portland and set to work going through the approvals process. Meanwhile, Starburns’ comics line SBI Comics got underway and announced its initial projects at San Diego Comic-Con 2015. At the same time, I had started to plan a move into freelance editing, having spent seven years at my staff editing job at Dark Horse Comics and itching for a new challenge. After I gave my notice in August, I again flew to LA and took another meeting at Starburns, this time with SBI Comics president Simon Oré, who laid out the studio’s ambitious plans for its new comics line.

Several details remained to be hammered out, but the arrangement we put together was a freelance gig as one of Starburns’ two comics editors, along with Oré. Initially this covered a handful of projects generated by Starburns writers and artists, but over the following months more were added, along with the ability to accept pitches for Starburns’ consideration. With Starburns on the rise between the success of Rick and Morty and early buzz for its feature film Anomalisa, written by Charlie Kaufman and codirected by Kaufman and Duke Johnson, these were busy days, and the agreement wasn’t ready to be announced until last week, but we’re now full speed ahead.

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It’s been a crazy few months, leaving the job that I am known for and not being able to announce what’s next right away (there’s more to come), so naturally going public with this is a pleasure, and I couldn’t be more excited about the projects that are currently greenlit, as well as some pitches I’ve got in hand. I’ll be editing one of the currently announced projects, but most are still under wraps, and they will surprise and delight Starburns fans once they go public. I’m so proud of what I’ve done to date, but 2016 is shaping up to be my most exciting year in comics yet. Every project I’m on is something I believe in, and in the case of Starburns I am working with personal heroes on titles unlike I’ve ever done before. In a way this has been years in the making, and this is just the start.


And don’t forget, I am still freelance, so I am available for editing, project management, and consulting at editing@brendanhwright.com.

After you pitch, it’s the editor’s turn

Making comics is a skill that takes a lot of practice, a lot of effort, and a lot of failure to master. Pitching comics is also a skill, a very different one, but with the same learning curve. It’s also every bit as important, because the single best thing a project can have going for it is a publisher’s confidence that it will sell, and selling a pitch is selling the comic. (Michael Moreci’s recent essay on pitching makes a strong case for the primacy of sales potential in pitching.)

I’ve never pitched a comic I’ve written or drawn, but I have nonetheless made countless pitches. That’s because when an editor likes your pitch they must next pitch it themselves. There are instances where you’re pitching directly to the people who can greenlight something, but if you’re in that position you’ve probably made it past the point where you need the following advice. This pertains largely to pitches for original projects from lesser-known or unknown creators. In most cases the editor you pitch to has some degree of influence but still needs the support of higher-ups to make a pitch happen.

Editors want to say yes. They get paid the same if they edit four series a month or ten, but they love comics and want to make as many of them as possible, and regardless of where they work they put in countless extra hours to fit in those additional series. They have diverse tastes and don’t want to get stuck with one type of project. If they like your pitch, they will fight for it against all reason. Publishers and marketing departments want to say no. They are painfully aware of the cost and risk inherent in each project they approve and have to be realistic about how far resources can be stretched. They are harder to convince than an editor is, and they should be.

So your pitch must serve two purposes: it is both the document that sells your idea to an editor—making the case for why it is at minimum a good read worth paying $4 per issue for and at maximum a game changer in the comics medium—and also a blueprint for an editor to translate their excitement for the project into something that meets the internal guidelines and needs of the publisher where they work—why it will stand out on the shelf and therefore why it will sell. Of course, it is your responsibility to research the output of a publisher and make sure you are pitching the right project to the right place (that is, don’t pitch a mainstream superhero comic to Fantagraphics), but in many cases it will not be your exact pitch document that reaches the top people.

Instead, an editor will take the information in your pitch and tailor it to the tastes of their bosses and, often, the publisher’s marketing department. This may involve a verbal pitch or, at some publishers, fitting the information from the pitch into a standard form. As many pitches as individual editors are inundated with, an editor in chief, managing editor, or publisher gets many more and has even less time to look at them. Accordingly, what is presented to them is stripped down to its essence, with creators’ bibliographies, comparison titles, and unusual selling points emphasized at least as much as story. You have to sell your story well to get an editor’s attention, but those other elements need to be there too so the editor can use them to get their bosses’ attention.

(This is not to say higher-ups never read your pitch. In most cases the original pitch will be a part of the package submitted by an editor to their boss, and if the process is going well, your pitch may be what clinches the deal, since the writer and artists’ voices are ultimately what they are buying, not just an idea.)

So provide those comparison titles. Focus more on what existing series you believe your series will sell like than on what it is narratively similar to, or include both and draw a distinction between the two. Research how the series you want to compare your series to sell and be honest with yourself if your project can really match those numbers. A lot of pitches list series like The Walking Dead or Scott Pilgrim as comparison titles, and marketing departments tend to roll their eyes at those references. Find what makes your comic part of a movement on the upswing rather than too similar to things that are already overfamiliar. Think about how your series will be marketed and suggest some high concepts, some taglines, a target audience, a hook that makes your editor’s boss want to know more and ask followup questions in a meeting where they thought they only had two minutes to spare.

This is always hard advice to give a writer, but comics is a visual medium, and your chances are exponentially better with art. Some editors will help you find an artist, but the truth is that they don’t have much time for pitches to begin with, and unless you already have a relationship with a publisher, finding an artist isn’t something they can take time away from other things for. Once your pitch is being shown to the higher-ups, art is something they can evaluate at a glance, and that coupled with a few key bits of information from the editor go the furthest in helping them feel confidence about your project.

Confidence is the key word. As in any other job, the currency of an editor is their track record, and it can be fortified consistently to make a career from a series of solid projects or saved up to make the pitching of a risky project go smoother. Their credibility is put on the line every time they pitch, and how a pitch is received affects the confidence their publisher has in what they bring to the table next. If you want them to go to bat for your pitch it has to give them the ammunition to face a series of people with every financial incentive to say no to your comic. Research who edits comics that yours will fit alongside and how they sell. The editor who works on comics like yours that sell well is sympathetic to your aesthetic and has the credibility to pitch it. Give them an exciting hook, an accurate and compelling comparison title, a valuable demographic, and some eye-catching artwork, and they will have confidence that your comic is not only a good story but also one that they can pitch, and their bosses will have confidence that you can deliver.


Thanks for reading, and don’t forget that I offer consultations on pitches. I can give you feedback from the point of view of an editor who’s received thousands of pitches and help make yours a clear, organized, and compelling showcase for your story. Inquiries go to editing@brendanhwright.com. I look forward to reading your pitch!

Tomorrow

SEVEN YEAR ITCH

Seven years is the longest I ever did anything. Tomorrow will be the seventh anniversary of my first day at Dark Horse Comics. I started at the age of twenty-four, and since then I have changed so much, as have my friends in and out of comics, the company, the comics field, and Portland, where I live. My title has changed three times, from Editorial Assistant to Assistant Editor, then to Associate Editor, and finally to Editor. The only thing that didn’t change was that I worked at Dark Horse.

Yesterday was my last day. Given all that has changed in my life and in comics, I’m excited for thirty-one-year-old me to strike a different path from twenty-four-year-old me and am thrilled to announce the beginning of my career as a freelance editor. My initial client list is made up of projects I am honored to be a part of, and I’m available to take on more, so keep reading.

I noticed several months ago that, by a quirk of the publishing schedule, the two series I have edited the longest and with which I am most associated, MIND MGMT and Grindhouse, would end at the same time, with my most nutso project, Archie vs. Predator, concluding shortly before. As it happened, the final issues of MIND MGMT and Grindhouse were both released last Wednesday. At the same time, some intriguing freelance opportunities presented themselves, and I decided to take the plunge.

I’m leaving Dark Horse on good terms and intend to keep up my relationship with the company. I love many people who still work there, and I look forward to continuing to see them outside of work and to reading the comics they’re working on. I’m sad for all the projects I won’t see to the end, but I’m proud of each of them and confident in and thankful to the editors taking over for me.

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It’s difficult for me to imagine the opportunities Dark Horse provided a kid just starting out in his career happening anywhere else. The very first thing I worked on was an issue of Stan Sakai’s Usagi Yojimbo, a favorite since my first year of high school. Within a month or two I was on the phone with Dave Gibbons, discussing the mammoth Life and Times of Martha Washington. Both happened because I was working for legendary editor Diana Schutz, and assisting her it sometimes felt like I got to work with just about everyone in comics. Assisting Diana is how I first came to work with Matt Kindt, Alex de Campi, and Jeff Lemire, three of the talents who, along with Stan, really defined my last years at Dark Horse (Jeff and Dean Ormston’s Black Hammer has been delayed until next year, and missing its debut is one of my biggest regrets about leaving, but I am immensely proud of the work we did and know it’s in good hands).

Once I undertook my own projects, not everyone at Dark Horse always understood what I was trying to do, but that didn’t stop them from letting me make moves like bringing Jeff Parker and Erica Moen’s webcomic Bucko to Dark Horse, opening the door to Monkeybrain with Paul Tobin and Colleen Coover’s Bandette, abetting Alex de Campi as she transcended every boundary of good taste in Grindhouse, developing a model for digitally serializing original graphic novels in advance of their order periods, creating the template for our Gallery Edition books and adding complicating features like massive foldouts, updating Creepy and Eerie for a modern audience, or giving weird newcomers Damon Gentry and Aaron Conley their first shot with Sabertooth Swordsman, which went on to win the Russ Manning Award for Promising Newcomer. They also put beloved franchises like Archie, Predator (and therefore Archie vs. Predator) and The Terminator in my hands, as well as acclaimed game studios like Naughty Dog, with comics based on The Last of Us and coffee table books of Uncharted and the art of the studio. I even have my name in a few Star Wars comics for some reason.

And, fatefully, I was assigned MIND MGMT #1, back when no one knew whether it would make it as an ongoing or end up a six-issue miniseries. Last week saw Matt Kindt finish the series on his own terms, after thirty-seven issues and a little over three years. I don’t know what my life or career would look like right now if not for receiving that assignment, and for that alone I would have always been grateful for my years at Dark Horse, but I am fortunate to have so many other reasons.

SEVEN YEAR PLAN

The future is a little terrifying, but I’m also the most excited I’ve been in years. I don’t know how long I’ll stick around Portland, but it will remain my home base for the time being, with more frequent visits to Los Angeles mixed in. One thing I don’t plan to change is my being a part of comics. I am as enchanted today as I was when I started by the possibilities of words and pictures and believe to my core in comics’ central role in innovating visual storytelling today. I hope to stay in comics as long as I am working, even if my role in it is evolving.

It’s probably more accurate to say my role is expanding, and I’m very pleased that the immediate future includes a continuation of my old one. Dark Horse will be among my first new clients, as I’ll be finishing a handful of projects on a freelance basis. I’ll also be starting immediately on some new Image series I’m excited about and lending a hand to a few existing ones that I read devotedly, and I’m currently in talks with a couple of nontraditional publishers about their upcoming comics lines. After years of doing things one way, I look forward to doing things five or six ways at once.

And that’s just the stuff I know about. Equally compelling are the projects that I don’t know are out there, the other Image series in search of an editor, the self-published books by authors who want a sounding board, the brilliant pitches in need of a helping hand to shape them, the graphic novel that’s complete except for a final proofread. I’m throwing the net wide, and I look forward to consulting/editing/proofreading on all kinds of projects.

If you’re looking, please send inquiries about experience, services, and rates to editing@brendanhwright.com. I’ll also be roaming Rose City Comic Con and New York Comic Con. And if you’re interested in seeing how this whole being-my-own-boss thing goes, follow me on Twitter at @BrendanWasright. Let’s keep comics the most vital entertainment medium going—together.

Secret Origin part 3: Time Flies

In Part 1, the author first began reading comics and described his growing fandom over the years.

In Part 2, the author described how he went about preparing for and applying for his present job in comics.

And now, part 3:

In the summer of 2008, I was splitting my time between paralegal research, teaching cartooning to high schoolers, blogging, and fighting with my girlfriend. Our February trip to New York, where I attended NYCC and had my resume rewritten by C.B. Cebulski, was the last time I remember us enjoying each other’s company.

I spent my days in my underwear, listening to wiretaps of a couple of people traveling to different pawnshops in Oregon to sell assorted merchandise, which they were now accused of having stolen and carried across state lines. I made corrections to the official FBI transcripts, read interviews, and used software called Casemap to cross reference people, places, and events to help the defense attorney create a complete portrait of the timeline of the case. It was repetitive, frequently boring, but on the whole fascinating. Once a month we met for lunch and synched our hard drives. The rest of the time it was pretty solitary.

Except for my occasional trips across town to plan for the coming school year at the Northwest Academy, my high school where I was now about to enter my second year teaching electives. The previous year I had had a blast teaching a high-school level class on cartooning, and was signed up to repeat that, as well as teach the middle-school level and to revive my old, abandoned pop culture studies class that had failed to materialize a few years earlier.

In the high-school class, I created assignments where we dissected short silent stories, created character model sheets, read and discussed Scott McCloud’s Understanding Comics, and progressed from editorial cartoons to comic strips to three-page stories to eight-page stories. The comics fans in the class were a distinct minority, the rest of the class made up of the curious, which I enjoyed, as I watched them develop an affection for telling stories in the comics medium even as they didn’t necessarily cultivate much in the way of fandom. Unable to avoid bringing in broader cultural theory, we discussed how visual literacy was poised to become as important as verbal literacy in the coming years, and I was thrilled to see even the non-comics readers take to communicating through the medium.

(I was apparently mildly popular as a teacher and received good marks for my handling of the class, though I did have to spend some time conforming my attendance log to the master log after being less than diligent. The closest I recall to getting into any trouble was for my poor choice of listening material during a drawing period one day. We often listened to music while the students drew, but sometimes we’d put on other things, like standup comedy. We had Margaret Cho on (I know) one day when the principal came in to tell us that the school was on lockdown while a bloody fistfight went on out front. Cho was talking about being present at a friend giving birth, and the principle entered the room (which was in an adjunct building across from the main campus and mostly empty while we were there) just as Cho said the words, “Then her pussy exploded.” Had she come in just to check up on us, I’m sure I’d have been in serious trouble, but the lockdown had her preoccupied enough that she either didn’t hear or chose not to.)

In the meantime, I’d been applying for an assistant editor position at Dark Horse, and was somewhat on edge about the question of whether I would be the person hired sooner or the one hired later, since I had been told I’d be one of the two. Thing is, the economy was on the verge of collapse, and I worried the second position wouldn’t really materialize once things got bad. I was therefore very nervous when I got a call in the end of August from Dark Horse’s editorial director. I don’t actually remember the feeling itself, but I do remember him remarking on my tone of voice after he said who it was and I replied, “Yes?”

I celebrated a bit. A lot. I’d never had and have never since had enough whiskey to become sick not that night but the morning after, excusing myself from breakfast twice to throw up. I was in kind of a bad way generally at the time. After the fight a day or two later that led to the end of my relationship with my girlfriend, I spent the long weekend in a cocoon and only emerged to have my first day of work the day after Labor Day.

In the meantime, I resigned from the case, feeling a bit guilty, and helped NWA find a replacement for the comics classes. Fittingly, my replacement ended up being Shannon Wheeler, who had guest lectured an earlier version of the same class when I took it ten years earlier. For whatever reason, the high school version didn’t fill up this year, so he ended up corralling a rowdy bunch of teens, and I ended up at the Dark Horse offices September 2nd, ready to work but without bosses.

For reasons I forget, both Diana Schutz, DH’s executive editor, and Dave Marshall, her previous assistant, now promoted to associate, were out of the office my first week. I was assigned to read up on the comics I would be assisting on, go through the Chicago Manual of Style, and help out with odd jobs where I could. I think the first things I did for anyone were to transcribe a phone conversation between Zack Whedon, Evan Dorkin and Gerard Way for a MySpace Dark Horse Presents collection and retype a letter sent to the Hellboy letters column. I was also introduced to the editorial library, a room with (in theory) two copies of every DH comic and one copy of every book, and given the responsibility of restoring order to it, weeding out duplicates, and ordering replacements for missing books.

Dave got back first, and he started in training me on the basic assistant tasks. The first book I learned was Usagi Yojimbo, essentially the perfect training wheels comic. Cartoonists don’t come better than Stan Sakai, and Usagi is edited the way it always has been, which is to say not much. Stan doesn’t submit story outlines or thumbnails or any of that. He just gives us a two to three-sentence synopsis from which we can write tip copy. The first time we see an issue it is complete, and all that remains is to do minor cleanup, proofread, and get the design pages made. Still, the process from this point on is similar to other books, so it’s a low-stress way to learn the in-house steps.

Dave’s main projects at the time were getting Mass Effect off the ground and finishing a Mister X series. Mass Effect had been assigned to him partly on the basis of his affinity for the material, and it’s since become one of Dark Horse’s important franchises, but at the time it wasn’t entirely certain it would go ahead, for several reasons. Even when the first issue of that first miniseries, Redemption, came out, things seemed questionable. The sales weren’t there, and it began to look like Mass Effect would prove to be a big mistake. Then Mass Effect 2 was released to enormous sales and acclaim, and the comic became hot, selling out and doing well on eBay. I think that the first two issues of Mass Effect: Redemption are still the only comics I’ve worked on that have gone back to press for a second printing.

With Diana I first worked on Usagi, some Grendel collections, Beanworld, a reprint series of The Amazon, and two Frank Miller projects. One, The Spirit Storyboards, was solicited but never released when the failure of the film killed interest. It’s too bad, since the book’s designer did wonderful work, and the Miller art in the book includes some wonderful images, a reminder that the man is always experimenting, always having fun, even in a medium that at the time he likely wasn’t intending to be reprinted publicly. I hold out hope that the best material from that book will somdeay be repurposed elsewhere.

The other was The Life and Times of Martha Washington in the Twenty-first Century, my introduction to the kind of intensive, prestige projects that make up a lot of Diana’s portfolio these days. 600 pages and the size of DC’s Absolute editions, reproduced from a few different generations of materials (film, old format digital files, modern files), and featuring coloring tweaks from the original colorist, it was a huge project, and one that I spent a lot of hours in the digital art department going over. It was also among my first experiences coordinating with big-name comics talent, phoning artist Dave Gibbons in his studio about the new cover art and getting the signing plates to him. It also turned out to be great training on working on large projects with lots of moving parts.

I worked solely for Diana and Dave until late 2009, when I took on a few projects under Scott Allie and Sierra Hahn. I worked on Buffy for a few months, during the Brad Meltzer–written “Twilight” arc, in which the secret identity of the season’s big bad was revealed. On that book and Serenity I proved to be one editor too many, as they each had an editor, associate editor, and two assistant editors, so I didn’t stick around long. Still, it was deemed useful for my training to be exposed to different types of projects and a different editorial style, so I was found projects with each of them to do for a while. With Scott I worked on The Guild, and developed a fondness for the web series and the writing of its creator Felicia Day, and with Sierra I got to help reinvent the Terminator in Zack Whedon’s and Andy MacDonald’s 2029 & 1984 miniseries, which remain my favorite licensed series I’ve been involved with. The other major project I helped Sierra with was Green River Killer, an original graphic novel about the detective who worked on the Green River Killer case longer than anyone, written by his son Jeff Jenson and illustrated by Jonathan Case, and it is another of my favorites.

I also worked during this time with Scott and assistant Freddye Lins on MySpace Dark Horse Presents, where I edited my first short stories, Damon Gentry and Aaron Conley’s “The Horror Robber” and Andi Watson’s “Hen and the Door-to-Door Ogre,” and coedited Art Baltazar’s “Grimiss Island” with fellow assistant (now associate) editor Patrick Thorpe. Damon and Aaron had submitted some work to DH and as I was at the time the submissions editor (a right of passage for most assistants, replacing the editorial library and passed on to me by Patrick, the newest assistant until I was hired), I was the one who read it. During my time as submissions editor I hired people I found there twice, the other being Jake Murray, the cover artist of the Kult miniseries, which I started out as assistant on and became coeditor of. Andi Watson, of course, I had been a fan of for years, and have since had the pleasure of working with on new the new Skeleton Key one-shot. Patrick invited me to coedit the Art Baltazar story because of my Tiny Titans fandom.

Because I was probably one of the only people in the editorial department buying and reading Archie, I was also teamed with editor Shawna Gore on the Archie Archives series. This was the peak of my overextension as an assistant. I’m as busy now as I was then, but split fewer ways, which makes a big difference. Over time, Scott eased me off of his projects until The Guild was the last one left, and I finished that with this year’s Free Comic Book Day issue and the Fawkes one-shot, and as limited projects with Sierra ended, they weren’t replaced.

My first projects as editor came as they often do at Dark Horse, handed down from other editors or reassigned after editor departed. My first reprint series was Little Lulu, which moved naturally from Dave to me as he got more original projects, largely videogame tie-ins after his success with Mass Effect. Tarzan: The Jesse Marsh Years and Archie Archives were passed down to me from departing editors. Finally, MIND MGMT went to me to help ease Diana’s schedule, which at the time was dominated with the huge Manara Library reprint program and a few others.

Around this time I began getting the opportunity to originate projects. The first graphic novel I brought in is actually still in progress, so I can’t go into detail, but it was greenlit last summer and is moving along steadily. As my first project, it took a ridiculously long time to get it ready to present to the decision makers, a year all told from when it was first pitched to me to when it was approved. Part of that was my learning the process, part was getting the pitch into the right shape, and part was the fact that I simply couldn’t devote very much time to it because as an assistant my work on other editors’ books had to come first.

It doesn’t take me as long to navigate stuff anymore, and I felt bad for the creators who were having to wait for me, but in the end we did get approved. Since then a few projects I’ve championed have been rejected, a few others have found a home in Dark Horse Presents, and some others are in their early stages. Nearly all of the lengthy Tarzan planning I wrote about earlier in the month is over, and my time is split currently between helping Diana, training assistant Shantel to take over a lot of my work on Dave’s books, and managing Bucko, MIND MGMT, Archie, Tarzan, and the unannounced stuff. I’m finally starting to feel like a real editor.

All this time I’ve fought to get my life back from the personal low point that coincided with starting at Dark Horse. For about the first year I poured all of my time and emotional energy into the job and ignored the rest of my life. Not particularly healthy, particularly because while one can feel proud of what one does for work, it’s just not a way to get real emotional sustenance. I hopefully have a more normal work-life balance now, thought this monthlong blog project, which takes up way more of my time than it should, suggests otherwise. I definitely stunted myself a bit, and getting back into the dating world and developing new hobbies hasn’t come terribly easy.

I’ve become a better person than I was those years ago, not because I necessarily wanted or tried to, but because I pretty much had to to get through everything. Probably the job has been a part of it, as it’s much more social than my last one and requires a lot more getting along and motivating people. Things do seem to be coming together professionally in a way they hadn’t for a while, so hopefully the future bears that out.