Your Hero Should Save You First

Nerdvana presents Small Press Saturday – aka, Lessons Learned Self-Publishing Comics

Sometimes I wonder how those first comic book readers felt in the late 1930s, holding that newly released copy of Action Comics #1, featuring the debut of Superman. What a phenomenon! Yes, fantastic pulp heroes existed before Superman, but his creators, Jerry Siegel and Joel Shuster, mixed the perfect batch of creative chemicals to create an explosion, with a fallout that continues to this day. Will any other character have as tremendous a cultural impact?

That’s not a rhetorical question. What other character in modern history birthed an entire genre, as Superman did with superhero culture? Did Luke Skywalker inspire SPX-saturated science fiction cinema? Did Harry Potter launch fantasy YA lit? Arguments can be made — and I’d love to hear them — but WHO isn’t really the argument I want to make. It’s WHY.

Why DID Superman stand out from the likes of Doc Savage and John Carter? Several variables contribute — the comic book format, the colorful costume — but the reason Clark Kent is a household name nearly 100 years later is a testament to his CHARACTER, plain and simple. We think of Superman as a straightforward “boy scout”-type character, but his origins were once a complicated enigma for new readers. We take for granted the concept of aliens, orphans, and nerds-turned-big city reporters TODAY, but in the 1930s? Those details were absolutely outlandish, and probably a little sexy. They set the standard for EVERY superhero to follow. Seriously, nearly every superhero since is an alien, an orphan, or a nerd-turned-big city reporter.

Siegel and Shuster didn’t cut these traits from whole cloth. They LIVED them. As young Jewish men struggling to break into the newspaper comic strip business on the cusp of World War II, they felt alienated, criticized by their families, and, most definitely, nerdy. In so many ways, Clark Kent was an amalgam of his two creators. Superman’s varied powers were designed to endure the challenges his creators faced on a regular basis — and THAT’S THE SECRET INGREDIENT. Today’s mantra:

The first person your hero should save is you.

I propose that the most enduring characters in comics — and maybe in all of fiction — were sprung from some challenge in their creators’ lives. Yes, I insist that characters like Batman, Wonder Woman, and Spider-Man were all inspired by some strife or struggle, and their creators sought solutions that the real world couldn’t offer. Is your city wrought with crime? If only a wealthy philanthropist could master science and combat to rise above the law and fight it! Feeling awkward and bullied at school? If only you could costume yourself, head to toe, and swing above it all!

Am I suggesting that all superheroes are a metatextual code for their creators’ psychoses? Not at all. I AM suggesting that the most TIMELESS characters have an X factor (no pun intended) connected to their creators’ circumstances, some part of themselves that’s both a timestamp for that moment of inspiration AND timeless in its potential appeal.

For instance, of COURSE Stan Lee and Jack Kirby’s seminal superheroes were the results of reckless radioactivity — they were created at the zenith of the atomic age, when everyone feared nuclear war in the early ‘60s. Yet, their transcendent appeal is rooted in the subtext of the nuclear FAMILY. Marvel launched with the Fantastic Four, inherently a family unit, and continued with Thor, whose arch-nemesis is his very brother. Spider-man is as beholden to his aunt’s grocery list as he is the Shocker’s latest bank heist. No matter how cosmic the threat, Marvel’s heroes always have problems at home, too — and, lo, so shall we all!

A more modern example is the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. When Kevin Eastman or Peter Laird talk about the origin of their partnership, they often include the instant brotherhood they felt over their fandom for Jack Kirby. They juggled jobs and household chores with drawing comics — so, no wonder their breakout hit featured brothers fighting a villain inspired by a kitchen utensil, that shares a name with an office accessory, to boot! Doing the dishes and needless paperwork — two of the cartoonist’s most notorious rogues.

The next timeless superhero might be lurking in the shadows of your current struggle. A cool costume just isn’t enough. Awesome, unique superpowers aren’t enough. Even a rad roster of super-villains — if your readers don’t know WHY your heroes are fighting, they won’t care WHO your heroes are fighting. Like Siegel and Shuster, imagine your problems are everyone’s problems, and devise a hero with the abilities and determination to solve them. Even if you AREN’T creating the next Deadpool, at least you’re making your situation a little more bearable, and that’s a success in itself. 

My flagship superhero is Speed Cameron — a kid that was struck by lightning at the same time a traffic camera caught him exceeding the speed limit, so, naturally, he’s become one with the speed camera. The idea was inspired by the time I received three such tickets in one night; I had just moved back to Arizona from California, and I didn’t know a certain stretch of highway was just 55 mph. I often explain, the speed camera’s bright flashes in the dark night seemed like special effects in a superhero movie, inspiring the idea for speed camera-headed supersuperhero.l

When I dig a little deeper, I realize my fascination with Phoenix’s speed cameras at that time were an extension of my wanting to find roots in Arizona. The cameras were fixtures in town, and I wanted to be a fixture in town, too. I wanted to feel at home. I promoted my comics so much, I soon received a plethora of media coverage — and finally felt established as a “local cartoonist.” Truly, Speed Cameron saved me. 

We’ll never know what those kids in the 1930s felt like, beholding emerging characters that would eventually change the world, but I assure you — you CAN know what it’s like to behold characters that change YOUR world. All you have to do is MAKE them. If you’re lucky, they’ll take it from there.

Russ Kazmierczak Jr.

Russ Kazmierczak, Jr. is a Phoenix-based cartoonist and the creator of Amazing Arizona Comics, a mini-comic book that satirizes local news, history, and culture with superhero adventure. He was the Phoenix New Times’ 2018 Best Storyteller and one of The Copper Courier’s “9 People Who Are Making A Difference in Arizona” in 2023. Russ has taught comics classes at Bookman’s in Phoenix and Mesa, Phoenix Art Museum, Gilbert HD South, and other venues throughout the Valley. Follow his work and inquire about his classes on Instagram @amazingazcomics.

The Fun Exception

Nerdvana presents Small Press Saturday – aka, Lessons Learned Self-Publishing Comics

Here’s a pro tip: if you’re intimidated by the hustle and bustle of comic con — if you’re overwhelmed by the sheer volume of vendors, cosplayers, and celebrities, there’s one place on the exhibit hall floor you’re sure to find some peace and quiet. If you don’t want to be bothered at a comic con, just sit behind a table in artist’s alley.

I’ve exhibited my comics in some capacity since 2001, and I’ve sat behind MANY tables over the years, sometimes with collaborators, but mostly alone. For many years, I’d ask over and over, in a variety of volumes, “Hey, would you like to check out my comics?” And, in a variety of ways, passers-by would find ways to dodge my question.

Don’t get me wrong — my comics sell, but every show, whether it’s five hours or five DAYS, has a lull. The dreaded ebb part of the “ebb and flow.” When the lulls are long, I start to feel rejection from the crowd and doubt in my abilities. Dark thoughts — until somebody stops, flips through one of my comics, and snaps me out of it.

I can’t quite remember when or where, but, at some point, I began dampening these thoughts by sketching between visitors to my table. Somebody must’ve noticed and asked if I could draw them something, which led to my sketching by request throughout the day, and using those requests as leads to pitch and sell my comic. Soon, it became my whole gimmick — “Free, Fast Superhero Sketches, Tips Appreciated But Not Necessary.” The lulls waned, and I found some light in the darkness.

I’m not going to lie: when somebody asks me to draw Batman for them, it’s a blast. It’s an HONOR. To connect with a stranger over a shared love for the characters we grew up with, and to recreate that character before their eyes, is the closest I’ve ever felt to being a magician, or a real life rock star.

I assume this is where the current trend of prints and sketch covers has come from. It’s easy to think, “If my sketches of Deadpool generate tips, why not have drawings of Deadpool ready to sell?” It’s the cartoonist equivalent to being in a cover band. “Sure, I could write my own music, but I KNOW everybody will sing along to ‘Don’t Stop Believin’!’” It’s instant satisfaction . . .

. . . but is it productive? Is it creativity? Is it REALLY a contribution to culture, to draw Superman over and over again? It’s certainly a celebration, and I do love that notion, but celebration is, by design, a looking back. Contrary to popular opinion, the art of comics isn’t drawing — it’s STORYTELLING. Stories move FORWARD, taking characters on a journey, through which we, the audience, might find some entertainment and relatability. They’re the real reason we love the characters we want to draw so much.

I double down on what I said in my last mantra: The world doesn’t need another drawing of Batman. I’ll take it a step further — the world may not need another Batman STORY, either. Characters like Batman are too burdened by almost a century’s history to offer anything relevant, anymore. Just look at what Batman, Spider-Man, and Spawn are up to, in their respective titles — they’re ALL stuck in a spiral of multidimensional versions of THEMSELVES. It’s literally the same old idea, simply eating itself.

The biggest movements in comics all began with an explosion of ORIGINAL characters and stories. From Superman and all of the pre- to mid-WWII superheroes at the beginning, to the renaissance of the Marvel Age. From the independent black-and-white explosion of the ‘80s, to the Image revolution of the ’90s — each era driven by a wave of new characters, all with their own stories to tell. Original, exciting stories have and always will save the comic book business.

As you may know, I’ve been practicing what I’m preaching here since 2010 with my own self-published superhero minicomics, Amazing Arizona Comics. Inspired in part by Erik Larsen’s Savage Dragon and Paul Grist’s Jack Staff, I’ve created a rich roster of original superheroes. In my next mantra, I’ll share a secret for creating original characters of your own. Perhaps we can initiate the next big movement in comics together.

Yes, I have a lot of fun drawing Batman at comic con. I use it as a live, performative gimmick to attract attention to my work. It’s my Don’t Stop Believin’ moment, promptly followed by, “And don’t forget we recorded an ORIGINAL album . . .!” That’s how I get it all out of my system; it’s The Fun Exception. 

One Saturday at Phoenix Fan Fusion, I looked up from my sketchbook to see one of my own characters looking back, in the flesh. Unbeknownst to me, a brilliant young man was cosplaying as my original superhero Speed Cameron. He’d made the costume with his mom’s help, and it brought me to tears of joy.

That day, I learned the only thing more fun and fulfilling than bringing Deadpool to life for fellow fans is one of those fans doing the same for me, with a character I had created. The thought of  one of my OWN superheroes roaming alongside all of the Wonder Women, Mandalorians, and Doctors Who? It’s the most fun feeling of all.

Russ Kazmierczak Jr.

Russ Kazmierczak, Jr. is a Phoenix-based cartoonist and the creator of Amazing Arizona Comics, a mini-comic book that satirizes local news, history, and culture with superhero adventure. He was the Phoenix New Times’ 2018 Best Storyteller and one of The Copper Courier’s “9 People Who Are Making A Difference in Arizona” in 2023. Russ has taught comics classes at Bookman’s in Phoenix and Mesa, Phoenix Art Museum, Gilbert HD South, and other venues throughout the Valley. Follow his work and inquire about his classes on Instagram @amazingazcomics.

Let Steamboat Willie Go

Nerdvana presents Small Press Saturday – aka, Lessons Learned Self-Publishing Comics

I didn’t realize until last week’s column was posted that I’d referenced late night talk shows two mantras in a row. I’ve always loved late night talk shows, from watching Johnny Carson’s final years on The Tonight Show when I was a kid, to finding an odd sense of solidarity with David Letterman’s and Conan O’Brien’s brands of absurdity, even to Craig Ferguson’s nightly puppet shows. Perhaps what I’ve always admired most about late night talk shows is the demand to produce new content NIGHTLY, and DISTINCT content from the nearly dozen other shows out there. When they’re pressed to come up with something new and different EVERY NIGHT, it’s no wonder we inevitably get things like Pimp Bot or Wavy the Crocodile.

The comics industry really isn’t that different, in its demand for consistent, original material. Comic strip cartoonists like Garfield’s Jim Davis face the same daily pressures, especially the stalwarts that have DECADES of stories behind them. I mean, how many times can you chuckle at Lucy’s pulling away that football from Charlie Brown? The daily strip cartoonists usually find gimmicks through which they can rotate, to keep things seemingly fresh; for a few weeks, Calvin and Hobbes are in an imaginary rocketship in a “Spaceman Spiff” adventure, the next few weeks, they’re throwing snowballs in the backyard. Anything old can be new again, if the timing is right.

The same expectations apply to monthly comics. Remember that South Park episode where they recall if “the Simpsons already did it?” How can the same not apply to Superman and Batman, after 80 years of multiple adventures every month? Heck, both of them have DIED, a FEW times! The pressure to produce new and interesting stories has never been so dire, considering what’s been done before, not to mention the waning attention spans and prompt, public, critical feedback of today’s audience. In a culture that demands everyone tell their story, the need to do so uniquely and urgently has never been greater.

So why isn’t anyone telling stories anymore?

Even as artists lament the inevitability of AI “stealing their work” and “taking their jobs,” they’re chomping at the bit to offer their “hot take” on the freshly public-domained as SOON as that new year’s ball drops. I don’t see the difference between an onslaught of artists drawing Steamboat Willie and the galleries of AI-generated art that flood my feed — both are inspired by something they didn’t create and offer little actual PROGRESS for those characters. Frankly, the world doesn’t need another drawing of Batman. The world COULD use another The Dark Knight Returns — a STORY that defines the character’s place in contemporary culture. Hence, this month’s mantra:

Let Steamboat Willie go.

You don’t need me to tell you about the importance of “story,” how it fuels the human experience, how it builds culture and character so we better understand our roles in the world. Perhaps you DO need me to tell you that story is our greatest weapon against AI — that the human imagination is our last asset against a machine that, sure, can replicate language and structure, but from formula, not from experience. As long as humans are HAVING experiences, and creating stories from them, AI simply won’t be able to keep up. Drawing the same thing over and over again, like Steamboat Willie? That’s just loading the enemy’s gun.

When Conan took over Letterman’s late night spot in the early ‘90s, NBC told him he could continue writing “Top 10 Lists,” since they owned that concept. Conan refused, not because he didn’t respect Letterman’s legacy, but because he wanted to establish one of his own. For the thousands of cartoonists that have ever worked in comics, more are forgotten than celebrated, and we REALLY only remember the ones that (1.) created the characters from whole cloth, and/or (2.) made an indelible impression on those characters, through the power of visually sequential narrative. Miller didn’t just draw Batman as he’d never been drawn before; he put the hero in a new time and place, the literal here and now (well, back THEN), to see if he’d survive. He told a NEW STORY. Had Conan pursued his own top 10s rather than bits like “In The Year 2000,” what would his legacy be today?

Anybody that knows me immediately gets the hypocrisy of my argument. In high school, I wrote and read Letterman-style top 10 lists every Friday on our televised announcements and found some popularity as the affectionately-named “Top 10 Boy.” Indeed, recreating a thing you love is The Fun Exception. Drawing Batman is FUN! I’ll explore The Fun Exception more deeply in my next mantra. In the meantime, please understand: “comics” is the combination of narrative and graphic design. One without the other isn’t comics — and my mantras advocate the necessity for consistently published comics. That’s what I love, and that’s what I make — featuring concepts and characters of my own design, just like the creators I admire most did and do.

Of course, I know why dynamic, memorable stories are fading from the daily drawing habits of regular cartoonists, in favor of prints, sketch covers, and sketch cards. Telling a good story is HARD. It’s HARD to tell a story that entertains, has meaning, and looks good. I certainly don’t hit it out of the park every time, but I rest assured that my consistency guarantees I’ll get it right once in a while. Maybe THAT’S why so many cartoonists just HAD to draw Steamboat Willie this month — we know that’s where Walt’s dreams began, and if they dwell in that space, maybe they’ll know what it feels like, to have an original idea, at all. Walt demonstrated clearly, if you can muster up just ONE, then there may be, just like those old Johnny Carson commercial break art cards used to say, “More To Come.”

Russ Kazmierczak Jr.

Russ Kazmierczak, Jr. is a Phoenix-based cartoonist and the creator of Amazing Arizona Comics, a mini-comic book that satirizes local news, history, and culture with superhero adventure. He was the Phoenix New Times’ 2018 Best Storyteller and one of The Copper Courier’s “9 People Who Are Making A Difference in Arizona” in 2023. Russ has taught comics classes at Bookman’s in Phoenix and Mesa, Phoenix Art Museum, Gilbert HD South, and other venues throughout the Valley. Follow his work and inquire about his classes on Instagram @amazingazcomics.

Go All In

Nerdvana presents Small Press Saturday – aka, Lessons Learned Self-Publishing Comics

Before I started self-publishing my minicomic, Amazing Arizona Comics, which features local, original superheroes, I had ideas for other comics series. “The Fast Food Wars” is a riff on the throwaway line from “Demolition Man” about Taco Bell winning the Franchise Wars — and it would’ve featured parodies of Ronald McDonald, Wendy, the Taco Bell chihuahua, and their fellow fast food mascots in a battle to the literal death. “Little Christmas” is a year-long story, featuring Santa Claus on earth reconnecting with humanity, and each issue would’ve been themed for its respective month’s holiday, with Santa fighting demented versions of Cupid, Uncle Sam, and even a Thanksgiving turkey. I have a few other old concepts in perpetual development, but these were two of my favorites.

Amazing Arizona Comics took precedence over all of my other ideas when I realized how much people like seeing themselves in the stories they read — so what better way to hold a mirror to the reader than putting where they live on full display? I created original characters like Speed Cameron, who was inspired by a night in which I received THREE traffic camera tickets, going 65 mph in a small stretch of 55 mph highway. For the first issue, I wanted a worthy foe for Speed Cameron, and when the news reported a Sheriff Arpaio-ordered immigration raid at a local McDonald’s, I remembered “The Fast Food Wars,” and that version of Ronald became canon in my story. At the time, I wasn’t sure if that first issue would be my ONLY issue, so why not cram in as many ideas as I’ve ever had?

Fortunately, I built momentum, and issue #19 was scheduled for completion sometime around January 2016. With the beginning of the new year, I remembered my “Little Christmas” concept and decided to fold it into Amazing Arizona Comics. Throughout that year, I scrambled to self-publish monthly, with Santa alongside Arizona’s heroes fighting drunken leprechauns on Mill Avenue in March, an evil Easter Bunny in April, and zombies in October. It wasn’t “Little Christmas” as I’d originally intended, but the idea found a home and I was grateful to get it out of my head.

I was recently listening to a segment from the podcast “Conan O’Brien Needs A Friend,” and Conan shared a quote he once heard from Johnny Carson. Carson, who had hosted The Tonight Show for decades, once said that when you do something long enough, everything in you comes out. I totally get it. I’m on issue #51 of Amazing Arizona Comics now, and the longer I self-publish this comic, the more I pull from personal experiences and any other ideas I’ve had to tell fun, engaging stories. It isn’t always planned; sometimes I’ll look back at a script I’ve written or a page I’ve drawn and see an inside joke with myself I didn’t realize I’d included. So goes the nature of creativity, I suppose, and most certainly today’s mantra —

Go all in.

I understand some concepts are incompatible and can’t be rolled into a single project, and I certainly get the banking of ideas so they can flourish over time, but when you make something of value, it should come from a place where all of you is accessible. Maybe some things SHOULDN’T come out, but what matters most is that they CAN. Every creator is a reserve of experience and influence that informs their art, and I believe the more you make, the less you’re able to hold back. It will all bubble to the surface, whether or not you really want it to. As an artist, it’s your job to use those internal resources wisely.

Also — what are you waiting for?! I’ve heard SO many artists start sentences with, “One of these days, I’m going to . . .” For all that artists have to offer, they’re often the most hesitant of any industry, plagued by pretension, procrastination, or self-doubt. When I finally started drawing Amazing Arizona Comics #1, I redrew the same page about five times before I developed the confidence — or the sense of surrender — to move on. Making art is a never-ending process, and AS a process, it requires PROGRESSION. Dwelling in the “one of these days” mentality is the ANTITHESIS of art. Holding anything back is just what everybody ELSE does.

I’ve recently had a health scare. Nothing fatal, but enough to acknowledge that I’m no longer a young man, and life is a very finite thing. I’d hate to leave this earth with an untold story in my head. As a cartoonist, my ideas are really all I have — they prove my merit as a contributor to culture. Getting everything out there makes mental room for new ideas to appear and perculate, too, so I have ongoing value. If I’m constantly exploiting my most valuable resource — my own imagination — I don’t have time to, say, pounce on Steamboat Willie when he’s suddenly made available in the public domain. How decidedly UNoriginal, to exploit somebody else’s old idea, rather than generate original concepts of my own . . . but I’ll shelf that thought for another mantra someday.

Conan evokes that Carson quote in the context of his blurting an old song he’d heard as a kid once on his late night show — a song so absurd, his audience and crew were both taken aback. Below are the clips of his explaining the moment, and the moment itself. Sure, the little ditty fell flat in real time, but years later it produced a moment of retrospective (and introspective) hilarity.

Even more than the song, Conan still had it in him to share how he knew that song, at all, and the lessons it taught him. He’s constantly going all in, which doesn’t mean he’s out of ideas — it’s given him 30+ years of content and influence in the entertainment industry.

How much do you have in YOU? Isn’t there really only one way to find out?

Russ Kazmierczak Jr.

Russ Kazmierczak, Jr. is a Phoenix-based cartoonist and the creator of Amazing Arizona Comics, a mini-comic book that satirizes local news, history, and culture with superhero adventure. He was the Phoenix New Times’ 2018 Best Storyteller and one of The Copper Courier’s “9 People Who Are Making A Difference in Arizona” in 2023. Russ has taught comics classes at Bookman’s in Phoenix and Mesa, Phoenix Art Museum, Gilbert HD South, and other venues throughout the Valley. Follow his work and inquire about his classes on Instagram @amazingazcomics.

Listen to Leno

Nerdvana presents Small Press Saturday – aka, Lessons Learned Self-Publishing Comics

I love stand-up comedy, and I think the comedian and the cartoonist have a LOT in common. First of all, comedians are often called comics, and cartoonists MAKE comics, so their respective product shares that same root word. Both the comedian and the cartoonist develop material that exaggerates reality, creating something through which their audience can relate and ESCAPE. Secondly, the comedian and the auteur cartoonist have little barrier between the audience and themselves. What they make is some representation of who they are. The difference is, the cartoonist can hide behind the page — the comedian is out there, much more vulnerable. Just ask Chris Rock.

Cartoonists have even begun “touring.” If you follow your favorite comedians’ careers, you’ll learn of the smaller, no-to-low paying gigs they did before hitting the clubs, theaters, and arenas. Cartoonists are doing the same thing, now — “gigging” at library shows, art walks, and comic cons. Montreal and Edinburgh for comedians are what San Diego and New York are for cartoonists.

Also, in my experience, comedians and cartoonists alike often struggle with Imposter Syndrome. They constantly question their own abilities, probably because they hold their heroes in such high regard — your Richard Pryors, your Jim Lees — that they figure they’ll never compare. Ask any cartoonist in an artists’ alley if they’re the talent . . . not if they HAVE talent, but if they ARE the talent. The answer should be a resounding yes. If I’m in the business of making something designed to entertain someone, I’m in the ENTERTAINMENT BUSINESS. You don’t need an agent, or to be published by Marvel or DC, to be a professional.

So, I listen to stand-up comedians’ podcasts all of the time, usually while I’m drawing, for inspiration. In an episode of “Fly On The Wall” with Dana Carvey and David Spade, Jay Leno kept repeating a phrase that sounded a LOT like a personal mantra, and since I’ve been chronicling my own mantras this year, I paid close attention. Carvey and Spade might’ve been prodding Leno about his limited social media presence, or his absence from the podcast world, when Jay said his job is, “Write joke. Tell joke. Get paid.” What a simple, easily forgotten mission in today’s age of breakneck speed, so, of course, I’ve adapted it to suit my own needs:

Make comic. Share comic. Get paid.

I didn’t start self-publishing comics to do anything more or less than those three things. Yet, since I’ve started making comics, I’ve put together multiple small cons and expos, organized annual comics-adjacent events like Phoenix Celebrates Jack Kirby, and led classes and workshops on making comics. Those things are fun and fulfilling, but they don’t compare to my never-ending desire to tell stories by making comics, and when they distract from that desire, I go light on the load.

Further, some of those supplemental projects don’t PAY. I’ve learned to prioritize the ones that DO. Talent gets COMPENSATED. Those paying gigs usually come in time, but they DO come for cartoonists as they might come for any other artist. Remember that the next time you’re paying for a comic con table, by the way. The subtext in that transaction is, the real talent at a comic con aren’t the artists, but the person that can get them all in the same room.

My variation of Leno’s mantra is my focus going into the new year. Call it a back to basics approach — not that I won’t organize or host events, but I’ll acknowledge them as supplemental to my thing, not my thing itself. When you adapt Leno’s mantra for yourself, what’s that thing you REALLY want to make and deliver so you get paid?

I’m a cartoonist. I make comics. That’s what brings me joy — which IS the strong implication of that root word for “comic.” That’s the OTHER thing comedians and cartoonists have in common — they make the people on the receiving end of their talent happy. So, make the thing that gives you genuine happiness. It’s usually the thing that puts the thinnest barrier between you and the audience, so they see who you are, as if you were on a stage. When you pursue that, believe me — people will “get it.”

Russ Kazmierczak Jr.

Russ Kazmierczak, Jr. is a Phoenix-based cartoonist and the creator of Amazing Arizona Comics, a mini-comic book that satirizes local news, history, and culture with superhero adventure. He was the Phoenix New Times’ 2018 Best Storyteller and one of The Copper Courier’s “9 People Who Are Making A Difference in Arizona” in 2023. Russ has taught comics classes at Bookman’s in Phoenix and Mesa, Phoenix Art Museum, Gilbert HD South, and other venues throughout the Valley. Follow his work and inquire about his classes on Instagram @amazingazcomics.

Be Grateful

Nerdvana presents Small Press Saturday – aka, Lessons Learned Self-Publishing Comics

I was 17 years old when I left home for college in Southern California. That first year, after class, I would ride my bike around town to become familiar with where everything was. You can imagine my relief when I found a comic book store, in the heart of Fullerton’s quaint downtown. I LIVED at that shop, and I introduced myself to comics I’d never even heard of before. I bought my first Vertigo comics from that shop. My first black and white boom comics. I went there for my very first Free Comic Book Day. For all of those firsts, that comics shop felt like an old shoe, and it helped me feel at home in a new city. I’m still grateful for that.

A few years later, my friend Brent and I were self-publishing our own comics, and we tabled for the first time at the Mile High Comics in Garden Grove. DC Comics artist Min Ku was tabling there, as well, and I received my first ever original drawing from a working professional — upon my request, he drew Anarky leaping at Mr. Freeze, in his DC animated style. The piece hangs next to my drawing table to this day, because I remember Ku’s kindness and excitement for drawing DC characters he hadn’t ever drawn before. That moment may have set the standard for how I sketch for fans at cons today, and I’m grateful for his brief but meaningful impact.

A few years ago, tabling at a convention in Phoenix, a young man was strolling by my table when he looked at me, stopped, and hustled over. He was coming in hot! He asked if I’d remembered him, and I decided NOT to bluff and admitted I didn’t. He said I’d drawn a Silver Surfer for him some years back — and what he hadn’t told me then was that the sketch was a gift for his ailing father, who just loved that sentinel of the spaceways. He expressed appreciation for the sketch as it had made his dad smile during a difficult time — then he moved on, leaving me uncharacteristically speechless. He’d nearly walked past entirely, but I’m grateful he recognized me and told me that story.

Maybe you’re recognizing a theme in my braggadocious anecdotes. My association with comics — as a fan and as a creator — has given me a lot to be thankful for. From comics’ familiarity, to the kindness of creators I admire, to the opportunities I’ve had to entertain making them myself, it’s a gift that keeps on giving. 

If you’re a fan, know that comics are a gateway to community wherever you go. If you’re a creator, know that every story you tell offers someone an escape from reality, if only briefly, but that escape might be the smile they needed that day. I don’t care if it sounds cheesy. It’s TRUE. I take the responsibility of “cartoonist” very seriously, because I know what comics are capable of. I feel very fortunate to live in a time where what I want to read, and what I want to make, can be accessible to anyone. You really don’t HAVE to ride your bike around town to find comics anymore — but, believe me, it’s WORTH it.

So, today’s mantra is a celebration of this week’s Thanksgiving holiday — and, the more I think about it, the more I realize it might be the best solution for writer’s block. It’s what I tell myself every time I’m daunted by a story I want to make, or when my feet are aching from hours of standing at a comic con. It’s a mantra I try to live by all year ’round, not just the third Thursday in November, although that IS when I feel it most of all.

Be grateful.

Russ Kazmierczak Jr.

Russ Kazmierczak, Jr. is a Phoenix-based cartoonist and the creator of Amazing Arizona Comics, a mini-comic book that satirizes local news, history, and culture with superhero adventure. He was the Phoenix New Times’ 2018 Best Storyteller and one of The Copper Courier’s “9 People Who Are Making A Difference in Arizona” in 2023. Russ has taught comics classes at Bookman’s in Phoenix and Mesa, Phoenix Art Museum, Gilbert HD South, and other venues throughout the Valley. Follow his work and inquire about his classes on Instagram @amazingazcomics.

Sell, Sell, Sell

Nerdvana presents Small Press Saturday – aka, Lessons Learned Self-Publishing Comics

I frequent a wonderful local coffee shop several times a week, a small business in the heart of midtown Phoenix. This morning, I ordered one of my fancier drinks — a raspberry mocha — and when they rang me up, I offered an alternative form of payment.

“I can’t pay for my coffee with cash, but I’d love to pay with exposure,” I said.

“Huh?” the barista replied.

“Yeah, throughout the day, I’m going to drink this coffee in front of a lot of people, with your name on the cup, and I might even let some people take a sip! Surely, the amount of people that will come and pay for their OWN coffee because they liked the look and taste of MINE will more than compensate for what I owe you!”

If this story were true, they’d have every right to dump that hot coffee over my head and throw me out . . . because EXPOSURE ISN’T A FORM OF PAYMENT. Every artist that dabbles in freelance has been offered “exposure” in exchange for their work. It betrays how culture perceives art as a commodity; art is perhaps the only good or service that isn’t perceived as the result of substantial production. We know our food is grown and raised by farmers on farms. We know cars are factory-line assembled. Art? Apparently, it just APPEARS, at the whim of the artist.

Of course, we artists know otherwise. Art isn’t produced by mere inspiration, or anyone’s belief that “you can do it!” As the old Pablo-draws-on-a-napkin tale goes, art takes a lifetime of work — and that time has value. Perhaps the mainstream misconception of art’s value (or lack thereof) is the vast spectrum on which art is priced. For me, more than storytelling and drawing, the most difficult part of making comics is determining what I should charge for them.

I’ve developed a few strategies for selling my comics, because that IS this week’s mantra:

Sell, sell, sell.

Pricing Strategy #1: The Market Survey

At my 9 to 5 job in property management, we frequently call neighboring apartment communities and inquire about their current rent rates, and the average amount establishes “the market,” upon which we base our rent rates to compete. I’m sure this is common in many industries. Well, art shouldn’t be much different. Artists should frequent galleries and other places art is for sale, and develop a way to see how works comparable to theirs are priced.

Currently, a new comic book is priced around $4.99, give or take a buck. Considering my comics are an unknown commodity compared to the likes of Batman and Spider-Man, I shouldn’t expect the average reader to pay MORE than that, on the gamble or whim of supporting an independent title — but I also don’t want to charge much LESS than that, creating a subconscious impression that my comic is “less than” any of the titles they already know. After all, the market doesn’t just help determine your work’s value, but its VALIDITY, as well.

Pricing Strategy #2: The Hourly Wage

This approach can get tricky, so allow me to demonstrate with my own process. My comics average 12 to 24 pages, and each page takes me about 4 hours to complete, from thumbnails to pencils, from inks to coloring, lettering, then editing. So, theoretically, a 12 page comic takes me about 48 hours. If I valued my time at $30/hour (and this is a completely subjective figure), that issue costs about $1440 in labor. So, my initial print run of that issue should reflect SOME compensation for that labor, right?

If I priced my comic by the market standard of about $5, I’d have to sell 288 issues to fully compensate for my time. For me, that’s an easily obtainable number, after over a decade’s worth of developing an audience. Of course, I didn’t have that readership for my FIRST issue, so the labor cost was an INVESTMENT. By this measure, per issue, profit is very measurable. When I sell that comic’s 289th copy, I’m making money.*

*Side note: You can easily add material cost to this strategy, as well, and adjust accordingly. If that same 12-page issue consumed about $50 in bristol, pencils, and pens, then the production cost is $1490. Now, at $5 per, I’d have to sell 298 copies. Still doable; still measurable, if this is the way you gauge success.

Pricing Strategy #3: Reading The Room

The average comic book reader knows a new comic book costs about $5. We see these prices at comics shops every week. THEY know what comics are worth, so when I’m tabling at a shop or convention, I really should price according to the market, which, in this context, is a fancy word for “fan expectation.”

Fortunately, MOST people DON’T know what a comic is worth these days. If I’m tabling anywhere else that would consider including a cartoonist — like an art walk, or a book fair — I can price those same comics based on the novelty of my stuff being unique among the other art for sale there. In layman’s terms, I can charge $5 for a comic at comic con, but $10 for the same issue at an authors’ event in Scottsdale. We know there’s more money in those pockets, and comics may be a novelty — a, “Hey, remember these? Let’s support this guy making them!” kind of buy.

So, your pricing may vary simply on where you are, and the demographic in attendance. This is called value-based pricing — but you can also just call it “reading the room.”

I’m sure you can think of a dozen other ways to value your artwork, and many artists simply have a gut instinct for where their work exists on the cost spectrum of the marketplace. These are just some of the strategies I use, depending on the time and place I’m selling my comics. Recently, I’ve decided to exclude a firm price from the covers of my comics, so I can adjust accordingly, and it’s been immensely helpful not to be obligated to that number. Ultimately, I’d like to think my comics boast their value WITHOUT a dollar sign and a number. It’s one thing for fans to see it — you know, that ol’ exposure. It’s another thing entirely — the ONLY thing, really — for them to WANT it.

Russ Kazmierczak Jr.

Russ Kazmierczak, Jr. is a Phoenix-based cartoonist and the creator of Amazing Arizona Comics, a mini-comic book that satirizes local news, history, and culture with superhero adventure. He was the Phoenix New Times’ 2018 Best Storyteller and one of The Copper Courier’s “9 People Who Are Making A Difference in Arizona” in 2023. Russ has taught comics classes at Bookman’s in Phoenix and Mesa, Phoenix Art Museum, Gilbert HD South, and other venues throughout the Valley. Follow his work and inquire about his classes on Instagram @amazingazcomics.

Know Your Value

Nerdvana presents Small Press Saturday – aka, Lessons Learned Self-Publishing Comics

I was recently reading “The Shape of Content,” a lecture series by artist Ben Shahn, and in his piece called “Artists in Colleges,” he offers a few international insights of American culture.

He quotes French writer Francois Mauriac: “(In the United States), man is treated as a means and no longer as an end …”

And British writer V.S. Pritchett: “Why (the United States) should not be originally creative is puzzling. Is it possible that the lack of the organic sense, the conviction that man is a machine — turns them into technicians and cuts them off from the chaos, the accidents and the intuitions of the creative process?”

Both of these quotes are particularly poignant considering the exponentially prevalent presence of AI — but, considering Shahn gave these lectures in 1956-57, these thoughts pre-date even THEN. If Mauriac and Pritchett had LITERAL technology-generated art in mind, it was merely philosophical, yet most definitely prophetic. 

More likely, they were pontificating on the near-algorithmic way in which American culture has ALWAYS been generated — through patterns of commercial success. If something WORKS, MILK it. Adaptation, sequel, reboot, repeat. REGURGITATE.

So, if you’re a creator pursuing ORIGINAL work — as original as anything can be, nowadays — how do you strive for commercial success, in the face of The Sure Thing? How can I sell my original, handmade, rinky-dink minicomics alongside  iconic stalwarts like Batman and The Amazing Spider-man?

Pricing art has been one of the art world’s most complex discussions. I’ve heard A LOT of philosophies over the years about how art could and should be priced. I’ve heard of large canvases priced by the square inch. I’ve heard of art priced by the cost of materials used. I’ve heard MANY figures for the hourly rates artists expect of and from their work. Because art is measured subjectively, it’s priced subjectively, too …

… as long as it IS. In every strata of industry, professionals get PAID for their work. I don’t want a plumbing hobbyist to work on my sink. I want to pay a professional, because payment implies accountability. It’s an exchange of expectation — of VALUE. If you don’t think art should have a cost, you don’t think it has a value — plain and simple. If you’re an artist —

Know your value.

Last week, I said getting something for free means it’s either priceless or worthless, and I mean it. The difference is, people PAY for priceless things. If they SHOULD have it, they’ll pay to GET it. Even those historically, globally priceless works, like, say, the Mona Lisa, are in museums — that charge admission. Last week, I also offered the stipulation that art CAN be given away, but that’s simply called “marketing.” Anything that’s given away for free should lead recipients to the road where they can PAY for MORE. Even Costco gives away free samples — but imagine if they didn’t SELL the product they were letting people try!

I’ve been wondering if the way creators value their art is in direct correlation to how they value themselves. I’m not NECESSARILY suggesting that underpriced art betrays a low self-esteem, but it surely can. I’m talking about what Shahn, Mauriac, and Pritchett were getting at: the priority of automation and production over originality and imagination. We trust ourselves less and we succumb to that algorithmic measure more. In the realm of comics, it’s the mentality that drawing a Deadpool print will CERTAINLY sell, so why bother going all-in on my own original characters and stories? Yes, AI cribs from artists’ original material, but WE designed that strategy a long time ago. Through sheer repetition, that lack of creative GUTS, we’ve devalued The Human Hand, including our own.

Next week, I’m going to explore some simple strategies for shaking off this mentality and pricing our original work accordingly. I’m going to talk about BELIEVING in your work, and maybe even in yourself. Believe me, it’s a lot easier to ask people to pay for your work when you believe that you’ve made something totally WORTH it. 

Russ Kazmierczak Jr.

Russ Kazmierczak, Jr. is a Phoenix-based cartoonist and the creator of Amazing Arizona Comics, a mini-comic book that satirizes local news, history, and culture with superhero adventure. He was the Phoenix New Times’ 2018 Best Storyteller and one of The Copper Courier’s “9 People Who Are Making A Difference in Arizona” in 2023. Russ has taught comics classes at Bookman’s in Phoenix and Mesa, Phoenix Art Museum, Gilbert HD South, and other venues throughout the Valley. Follow his work and inquire about his classes on Instagram @amazingazcomics.

Get It Out There

Nerdvana presents Small Press Saturday – aka, Lessons Learned Self-Publishing Comics

Steve Ditko isn’t a household name, but many of the comic book characters he created, co-created, or influenced ARE – like Spider-Man, Dr. Strange, and Blue Beetle, just to name a few. Like many cartoonists of his generation, he lived and died in obscurity, while the superheroes from his drawing board became global icons. Unlike actors, musicians, or pop sensations like Warhol, Lichtenstein, or Stan Lee, mainstream audiences seem to have little interest in the lives and personalities of cartoonists. Cartoonists are famous to OTHER artists, and that’s about it – and, even then, how many cartoonists could pick Charles Schultz out of a line-up?

At least for Ditko, his anonymity was his own fault. In his old age, he became all but a recluse. Occasionally, a fellow cartoonist might’ve managed to establish some correspondence with Ditko, or even to catch him at his apartment (and introduce Ditko to his mom – you know who you are), but otherwise Ditko was an introvert, at best. Anti-social, more likely. His “The Hollywood Reporter” obituary reads, “He is believed never to have married.” No one really knew!

But can an artist REALLY be an introvert? Some artists may feel uncomfortable in a social setting, but they’re driven by expression, which is, in itself, a form of interaction and communication with other people. In some ways, art acts as an emissary of  thoughts, feelings, and opinions – the art goes before the crowd so the artist doesn’t HAVE to.

Despite his reclusively, Ditko self-published comics until the final years of his life. With collaborator Robin Snyder, he engaged crowdfunding platforms and modeled a lesson I’ve learned countless times over the years, regarding making comics – and art, in general:

Get it out there.

Making art without a plan for distribution is like singing opera in the shower – it may be the most beautiful thing on earth, but if no one else is there to experience it, it’s mere frivolity. It’s the dreaded word, to any professional – just a HOBBY.

For the past few weeks, I’ve been presenting a threefold creative time management strategy – education, production, and distribution. I propose that each of these tiers should be pursued in equal measure; in other words, a third of your creative time should be spent on each of them.

Often, distribution is the most overlooked – probably because it must follow production, and production boasts the misnomer that when the work is done, the work is DONE. Distribution demands otherwise – when I finish a comic book, as in, it’s printed and in-hand, it’s really only half done. I’ve altered my mentality – a comic really isn’t DONE until somebody READS it. Similarly, a song isn’t done until somebody listens to it. A movie, until it’s seen, and so on – otherwise, you’ve just felled a tree in the forest with no one around. Distribution requires an audience’s consumption of your work – at their EXPENSE.

This is an important distinction: marketing is a part of distribution, but marketing ISN’T distribution. Marketing is generally an audience’s exposure to your work, for free. We don’t pay to see commercials – in fact, we pay NOT to see them – so anything an audience can consume without SOME monetary exchange is purely a marketing effort, as far as I’m concerned. In the comics world, that includes digital and webcomics. If your entire 100 page graphic novel is online and available to read for free, without at least the potential for ad revenue, I propose you haven’t really distributed it. You’re just marketing yourSELF, as a storyteller and a cartoonist, and that’s totally cool – but, remember, something for free is either priceless, or WORTHLESS. 

Here’s how distribution benefits time management: When the new project suffers from a writer’s block, let the OLD stuff benefit from a renewed wave of distribution. If you’re stuck at the drawing board, get up and figure out new ways to get the LAST thing out there AGAIN, or MORE. Research cons, expos, or shows where you can table, or organize one yourself (which we’ll talk about soon). Inquire with local businesses and venues about the possibility of selling your work there. Restock the shelves. The adrenaline of distribution fuels the need to create. Comics — and, as I insist, all art – isn’t a one-and-done field. It thrives on consistency and continuity – not just in its content, but in its availability. When you KNOW people are watching, it inspires you to keep creating.

That’s what this entire miniseries on time management has been about. Whether you’re an artist that can commit eight to twelve hours a day to your creativity, or a 9-to-5er that manages a few hours at the drawing board after work a few days a week, using that time most effectively is key to success. If you don’t have the juice to produce, education and distribution are waiting to make those hours equally beneficial. Many artists do each of these things naturally, anyway – but when you add intentionality to the mix, you’re that much closer to being – and feeling – professional.

I don’t think Steve Ditko was an introvert. I think he was just particularly picky about who he talked to. Maybe he was exhausted by an industry that STILL barely acknowledges the talent that created its very culture and language. Whatever Ditko felt, he channeled that energy into making comics, until the very end. I’m inspired and fueled by his legacy. The guy just told a lot of stories. Was he trying to reach a certain number of issues? Who knows . . . but he made the MINUTES count.

Russ Kazmierczak Jr.

Russ Kazmierczak, Jr. is a Phoenix-based cartoonist and the creator of Amazing Arizona Comics, a mini-comic book that satirizes local news, history, and culture with superhero adventure. He was the Phoenix New Times’ 2018 Best Storyteller and one of The Copper Courier’s “9 People Who Are Making A Difference in Arizona” in 2023. Russ has taught comics classes at Bookman’s in Phoenix and Mesa, Phoenix Art Museum, Gilbert HD South, and other venues throughout the Valley. Follow his work and inquire about his classes on Instagram @amazingazcomics.

If It Doesn’t Make Dollars, It Doesn’t Make Sense

Nerdvana presents Small Press Saturday – aka, Lessons Learned Self-Publishing Comics

As I write this week’s mantra, thousands of artists around the world are participating in “Inktober” — a daily drawing challenge throughout the month of October. Dozens, maybe hundreds, of daily drawing prompt lists pop up on social media in September, preparing artists for what to draw every day. Like many things of import, Inktober began in Arizona, as a local renowned cartoonist sought to improve his inking skills. It’s now become a global phenomenon . . .

. . . and it’s the antithesis of how I define comics.

Inktober is creating graphic art. Making comics is creating graphic art in the service of narrative. One is drawing pictures; one is telling a story. I’m not placing a value judgment on one over the other, but the distinction is important in the context of how I spend my time as a cartoonist. 

These past few weeks, I’ve been talking about creative time management — specifically, my threefold strategy on how to effectively manage your creative time. Last week, I talked about education, and next week I’ll explore the concept of distribution. Today, I’m talking about production.

Production might be the “well, duh” aspect of my time management strategy. If we’re talking about how to use your time to make things, and production IS the act of making things, then of course you spend most of your time IN production . . . right? 

I can spend all day drawing pictures, maybe the best pictures I’ve ever drawn, then I can post those pictures on social media. Those pictures would get likes, and that would feel like the fruit of worthwhile labor . . . but, after those likes, I have nothing more to show for the work. That’s the shallow feeling of being producTIVE. It has little to do with my pursuit for producTION.

Today’s mantra comes from something I heard years ago, working in nonprofit after school programs. Artists are a lot like nonprofit organizations, really — we operate in the interest of social benefit. In after school programming, we couldn’t afford to waste our time in pursuit of monies or resources that didn’t directly benefit the kids in our care. One day, while brainstorming community outreach opportunities, one of my coworkers said:

If it doesn’t make dollars, it doesn’t make sense.

I’m not suggesting that money should motivate an artist’s use of their time, nor am I suggesting that an artist shouldn’t create for fun. I draw for fun all of the time! I just don’t mistake that drawing time for when the REAL work begins — when I craft the stories that become my comics (which, incidentally, is when I have the most fun of ALL).

Making comics is a process that includes character design, scripting, dialoguing, page layout, penciling, inking, coloring, lettering, formatting, and editing. Engaging in any of those steps is an effective use of my production time, because it contributes to my product — the COMIC BOOK — that I’ll eventually exhibit at a comic con or art show to sell. For money. So each of those steps makes sense.

To be clear, Inktober is the cartoonist’s equivalent of the mechanic that spends the day working at their shop, then works on their own car at home. It’s a personal exploit of professional talent. Of course, I know many artists collect their Inktober drawings into anthologies that they can sell, and that’s awesome. Those collections just aren’t comics. 

Like any discussion about time management, production is a matter of understanding where your priorities are. If I were an illustrator, Inktober would be my bread and butter. As a cartoonist, it’s just the loaf, sans spread. I value storytelling most of all. I LOVE drawing, but if it isn’t in service of the story I’m telling — the car on my lift, to further my earlier analogy — it can be as much an exercise in procrastination as re-organizing my studio for the umpteenth time, or scrolling through social media “for inspiration.”  

This week’s mantra, in its mentioning of money, may seem crude, but consider what the money represents — an exchange of value between creator and consumer. What makes your art VALUABLE? What do you want your audience to GET from your work? Obviously, that’s how you should prioritize your production. If you’re the car’s mechanic, your audience is its owner — and they’re ready to go for a ride.

Russ Kazmierczak Jr.

Russ Kazmierczak, Jr. is a Phoenix-based cartoonist and the creator of Amazing Arizona Comics, a mini-comic book that satirizes local news, history, and culture with superhero adventure. He was the Phoenix New Times’ 2018 Best Storyteller and one of The Copper Courier’s “9 People Who Are Making A Difference in Arizona” in 2023. Russ has taught comics classes at Bookman’s in Phoenix and Mesa, Phoenix Art Museum, Gilbert HD South, and other venues throughout the Valley. Follow his work and inquire about his classes on Instagram @amazingazcomics.