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I was offered the chance to turn my thoughts on this subject into something publishable, something definitive and succinct, but given the nature of the subject and my own lack of time, that wasn’t going to be possible. So instead I’ll say the same thing in an unpublishable and not succinct way:

Orson Scott Card is a dangerous bigot. If he will not even attempt to atone for his dangerous bigotry (including: hate-filled screeds, lies, and incitements to violence), then I don’t care if he never gets another job again. Let alone writing a beloved icon of children and adults.

The faux-Liberal hand-wringing going on around this is gross. Orson Scott Card is not merely an ‘artist,’ but also a public figure who actively seeks to increase his fame through attaching himself to high-profile projects. He then uses that fame, and the income generated from these projects, to promote and directly support his hate-filled screeds, lies, and incitements to violence. There can be no separation of art and artist when the artist uses his art to directly fund oppression.

If you are standing up in defense of someone who will take a portion of the income they make from writing a Superman comic book and send it directly to an organization that works to oppress a minority, and you are in opposition to those that would see him stopped from doing so, take a good long look at yourself in the mirror.

Holding a public figure accountable for their actions isn’t censorship, and it certainly isn’t fascism. It’s called “being an adult” and if Orson Scott Card wants to use his writing, his “art”, and all of the tools at his disposal to push his agenda of dangerous bigotry, then he deserves to be held accountable for that.  Suggesting otherwise is ignorant.

– Christopher
P.S.: I am aware that the value of the Superman character is already highly compromised due to DC’s horrible treatment of the creators of that character and their families, but as an icon outside of DC’s control the character still possesses enormous weight that makes its role here both valid and central to the issue.

Currently circulating around Twitter and the Blogosphere is this article entitled “When To Give Up” by Calista Brill on the First Second blog. First Second is a publisher of fine graphic novels, about 20 to 24 per year, and Calista is an Editor there.

The article details when and why a comics creator (artist / author / graphic novelist / cartoonist) would or possibly should give up on their dream of making comics their vocation. It’s written from the perspective of a New York City publisher who sees hundreds of submissions per year, and it’s part of a series of articles on the publisher’s website tagged “Behind The Scenes,” that gets into the nuts and bolts of graphic novel publishing. I think it’s generally smart and very on the ball, in that it clearly espouses the economic realities behind comics as a vocation (it’s difficult at best) and confronts readers and the aspiring-to-be-published with some basic truths about the business of comics.

Specifically, I like that Calista takes a bunch of time to couch her advice and experience by pointing out the flaws in her own method, despite that it’s the best method she’s got to work with. Early in the piece she links to two different dissenting viewpoints from hers–about not giving up in the face of discouragement and that editors like her are human and make mistakes–but she goes on to make her overall point: “Take a realistic look at your work and its reception amongst your peers and the marketplace, and if it’s not good, maybe reassess your career goals.” (Paraphrasing)

Where the article slips is in not using clearer language to differentiate between an artistic career, and art as a vocation. It’s clear to me that she’s using phrases like “publishable” to mean “publishable with the hopes of finding financial remuneration.” As I mentioned this article is also part of a series of blog posts on that subject, and being made by a publisher for whom making enough money to stay in business and keep publishing is an end goal (though clearly not the only one). If this was the first article you’d read on this site or were otherwise inclined to do so,  you might interpret this as a ‘quit making art, you suck’ and Calista’s partly at fault here for not being clearer in the second half that this is about the economics of making art. A strong concluding statement would have helped a lot too, to incorporate the economics and vocational aspects clearly outlined in the first half into a final statement–as it is the article just sort of stops, rather than concludes.

All in all, I think it’s a ballsy move for a publisher to come out and preemptively ask artists to do some soul-searching about their chosen vocation. If the people who are going to be providing you a paycheck in your chosen vocation can’t give you advice on that subject, then who can? This article speaks directly to their publishing model and publishing philosophy, and has opened up a heated discussion on Twitter about other models, other philosophies, and the nature of artistic passion. I kind of wish it’d started a discussion about the nature of economic survival in the face of artistic passion, but beggars and choosers, right?

Ultimately, my favourite comment about this article came from Michael DeForge, a very talented comic creator and a friend of mine who was dismissive of this article in its entirety:

“that :01 article going around is dumb, but if that sort of thing could actually convince anyone to quit they were a probably a sissy to begin with”

Straight to the point–DeForge is amazingly skilled creator whose comics ability improves rapidly, whose work I love to follow, and who is already interrogating his own work in many of the ways outlined in the article. He isn’t someone who lacks insight into his own work in the slightest, and the article, which recommends it, is therefore pointless. I think that perfectly sums it up for me.

– Christopher
P.S.: I am friends with Calista and the folks at First Second, just as I am friends or at least friendly with every single person I’ve seen criticizing this article. Just in case you were wondering where my bias is, it’s in favour of realistic expectations of the industry–not the medium–of comics.

“One of the overriding themes of comics this year is the pressing need for models and ways of getting work out there that match the innovation and energy of the comics themselves.”

– Tom Spurgeon, prompted by a cartoonist profile of Oily Comics’ Chuck Forsman.

I was very fortunate to meet graphic novelist Miriam Katin on the tour for her first major work, We Are On Our Own, a few years back. I greatly enjoyed talking with her about the book, and the book itself was a very strong, personal recounting of tragic events surrounding The Second World War. I’m delighted that, according to an e-mail that just landed in my inbox, Katin’s follow-up graphic novel Letting It Go is due from Drawn and Quarterly in February. I’ve reposted the cover and solicitation information below, I hope you’ll look for it when it comes out.

Letting It Go
By Miriam Katin 
Hardcover / 7.5″ x 9.75“ / 160 pages, full color
$ 24.95
978-1770461031

Miriam Katin has the light hand of a master storyteller in this flowing, expressive, full-color masterpiece. The world of Holocaust survivor and mother is turned upside down by the news that her adult son is moving to Berlin, a city Katin has villainized for the past forty years. As she struggles to accept her son’s decision, she visits the city twice, first to see her son and then to attend a Museum gala featuring her own artwork. What she witnesses firsthand is a city coming to terms with its traumatic past, much as Katin herself is. Letting It Go is a deft and careful balance: wry, self-deprecating anecdotes counterpoint a serious account of the myriad ways trauma inflects daily existence, both for survivors and for their families. Katin’s first book, We Are On Our Own, was a memoir of her childhood, detailing how she and her mother hid in the Hungarian countryside, disguising themselves as a peasant woman and her illegitimate child in order to escape the Nazis. The stunning story, along with Katin’s gorgeous pencil work, immediately garnered acclaim in the comics world and beyond. With Letting It Go, Katin’s storytelling and artistic skills allow her to explore a voice and perspective like no other found in the medium.

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– Chris