‘What Are You Hungry For?’

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

As the Super Bowl looms over Phoenix, I remember the last time Arizona hosted the Big Game. At the end of 2014, right before the big game hype began, I was fired from my day job, and in a scramble to recover the consistent income, I started driving a taxi. Those were the last days of the pre-ride share world, so the gig had potential, but late nights driving drunks home started to grate on my soul. I was drawing and selling my comics as much as I could, and in an attempt to make a few more bucks from the drawing board, I posted an ad on Craigslist, basically billing myself as a cartoonist for hire. Promptly, someone inquired if I’d draw a comic strip for their friend’s birthday. We discussed the details, I finished the strip the next day, and the client paid me immediately. Of course, I’d completed paid commissions before, but I hadn’t felt like my very LIFE depended on it! I was so inspired and encouraged, the next morning, I woke up earlier than ever to drive that cab.

Wait, what?! I know what you’re thinking – Russ, you made money DRAWING! You had a taste of living that dream! Why go back to the doldrums of driving? Isn’t being a starving artist better than not being an artist, at all?! Ah, therein lies the rub. I don’t BELIEVE in being a STARVING artist, not in the literal sense. The romantic notion of art’s pursuit at all cost is a stereotype that perpetuates irresponsibility and recklessness. Consider the phrase alone – “starving artist” doesn’t project an image of a successful maker achieving the full potential of their creativity. It prioritizes “starving” – struggle — stagnation in mediocracy. If art is the thing that distinguishes humanity’s evolution, if it’s truly the cornerstone of culture, if it’s the thing that ENRICHES existence for both its creators and its consumers, it shouldn’t be synonymous with poverty.

What if I told you I had a passion for plumbing, like, I’m REALLY into the efficient flow and flush of your indoor water supply? What if I couldn’t land a job at a plumbing company in town, so I freelanced my plumbing skills at any opportunity? What if I charged less than my skills were worth, just for the exposure and experience as a plumber, and I struggled to pay rent and eat because I was just so INTO plumbing, I refused to do anything else until my dream of “making it” into plumbing came true? What if I was, in all practicality, a “starving plumber?” You’d probably say, “Yeah, this whole plumbing thing isn’t for you . . .” You wouldn’t want this “starving plumber” working on your pipes – and, let’s be honest, we don’t want starving artists driving our culture.

Last week, I asserted that my art isn’t some side hustle, but my MAIN gig – and it’s easy to think that I’m contradicting myself this week, with this argument for the day job. On the contrary, I’m not REALLY arguing for the day job. I’m arguing that successful artists should prioritize their well-being, physically and mentally, with structure and discipline. More so than using the proper tools, more so than talent, THIS is the difference between the amateur and the pro. This is the mantra –

Don’t starve FROM your art. Starve FOR it.

I can only speak for myself, but the necessity of my day job creates a momentum of routine that only benefits my drive to sit at the drawing board. Waking up for work, staying on task for eight hours, and being a part of a team set a standard for the OTHER eight hours I’m home, awake, working on comics. Without a work schedule, I could justifiably snooze until mid-morning, I might eat erratically throughout the day, I would probably start drawing later in the day and stay up until well past midnight. Frankly, giving eight hours to the day job instills the remaining 16 hours of my day with an inherent value I DO NOT take for granted. I make comics because I’m STARVING to make them – not because I’m just STARVING.

Of course, if I loved making comics so much, why WOULDN’T I set the alarm and wake up to hit the drawing board, right? Especially if my life depended on it? Again, I can only speak for myself – but the psychology of an artist has been well explored and documented, as well. Creativity is a gambit for immediate satisfaction and validation – and its pursuit rewires the brain to seek those results in ALL things. That’s why so many of us misperceive posting process pictures on Instagram as productive – in the 21^st century, you can show an audience your art, and they can LIKE it, before it’s even DONE. That’s really only a few steps beyond ever starting it at all. Social media, smoking a joint or grabbing a few drinks with friends, working at a coffee shop for the ambiance versus hunkering down to work at home – creativity placebos, ALL, not to mention the VERY stereotype of the starving artist, not the successful one.

The fate of the starving artist is one of two possibilities – (1.) the ideal: the art takes off and establishes a viable living and lifestyle for the artist, or (2.) the nightmare: the art fails, and the artist is forced to find one those day jobs he rejected all this time. The fate of the path I’ve chosen is ALSO divergent – one road leads to quitting the day job because my art establishes a viable living and lifestyle for me. The other road simply maintains this status quo, of juggling the balance between day job and main gig. The fates of the starving artist and the working artist are remarkably similar! The former is wrought with struggle, the latter is a balancing act of time management. For me, the choice is clear. I don’t want to trust-fall with the muse. We all know how fickle she can be.

If you’re a “starving artist,” as the world knows it, I’m not saying you should run out and be a waiter or a barista tomorrow. I’m just encouraging order over chaos, structure over struggle, to benefit your full maker potential.  When I was driving the cab back in early 2015, my most lucrative weekend was that Super Bowl Sunday in the Valley. I made more money in three days than I had in an entire week, and following that windfall, I worked on comics for three weeks straight. Hard work ENABLES hard work; it doesn’t prevent it. My current boss knows and respects what my priorities are. She knows I identify as a cartoonist, and that passion doesn’t make me a liability. It makes me more driven than ever. She knows I don’t want to starve — and she knows what I’m hungry for. 

My Maker Mantras aka Small Press Saturday: Lessons Learned Self-Publishing Comics

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.