This week in high school comics class: working on outlining and structuring our minicomic stories. The structure is there to support them when they’re stuck and for them to rebel against when they’re not.
P1: Introductions – We learn about the characters and setting
P2: Characters interact – We learn more about how the characters see themselves and each other, particularly through dialogue
P3: Conflict – Some kind of problem shows up
P4: Characters react to conflict – We learn more about the characters through their reaction to the conflict
P5: Twist – Some kind of surprise shows up–could be big, could be small
P6: Characters react to twist – We learn more about the characters through their reaction to the conflict
P7-P8: Resolution – I always think about this part as answering one of two questions: *How* is the world different, or *Why* is the world the same?
I’m not sure when I got The Amazing Spider-Man Annual #20. I think it might have been Christmas of 1990. My parents, resigned to the fact that I was hopelessly in love with comic books (especially Spider-Man), got me a Marvel Comics collecting starter kit. I’m pretty sure it was this one—a short box that came with a sampling of the various Marvel Comics that had come out in the past few years.
Or it might have been in the back issue bins of Levi’s Bookstore, my first regular comics shop. Either way, this comic became a clear explanation for why I loved Spider-Man so much.
The story, based on an original story by Fred Schiller, written by Ken McDonald, Penciled by Mark Beachum, inked by Bob Wiacek, lettered by Jim Novak, and colored by Bob Sharen, starts with Arno Stark, the Iron Man of the far future time of 2020. He’s pretty much the character portrayed by the Marvel movies. Irreverent, brilliant, funny, and infuriating.
His mega-headquarters is suddenly invaded by a terrorist by the name of Robert Saunders. Iron Man quickly does the hero thing to stop him, but Saunders is killed during the conflict. Problem is that Saunders’ retinal patterns are the only thing that can shut down the mega bomb he activated within Iron Man’s compound.
But no worries—future Iron Man has a time machine. He’ll just go back in time and scan the retinal patterns of the young Saunders before he became a terrorist. You need a ticking clock, though, so in the case of this time machine, time moves forward for everyone, both past and future. Iron Man has to get those retinal patterns quickly and get back to 2020 before the bomb goes off and kills everyone he loves.
Once in 1986, Iron Man tracks the boy Saunders down to New York City, and his path accidentally crosses a battle between Spider-Man and The Blizzard. Iron Man shows more macho brashness from Iron Man as he swiftly dispatches The Blizzard. And without verbal explanation he grabs Saunders to grab the retinal pattern.
Enter Spider-Man, who isn’t okay with powerful people barging their way into scenes and pushing around the powerless without a word. Still, Iron Man’s one of the good ones, so there must be a reason. He gives Iron Man a chance to explain. Iron Man tries to shoo Spidey away, and the resulting action destroys the retinal scanner.
We get a speedy chase where Iron Man, again without explanation, announces he needs to take the young Saunders. Spidey bobs and weaves, but Saunders is gravely injured.
And then we get to this terrific scene. Spider-Man unloads on Iron Man and nearly beats the armor off of him. Peter Parker has a button, and it’s when you push around those smaller than you. Especially kids.
And the part that gives me goose bumps is that he can’t even summon a proper insult.
The part that makes me laugh and cry at the same time is when Saunders’ father, who is quite wealthy, offers Spider-Man a reward. And Spidey not only asks for a loan instead of an outright reward, but he asks for the exact amount of his rent, which is due tomorrow.
I won’t spoil the ending for those who care about that (though it’s a nearly 40-year-old story). But for me this is peak Spider-Man. He’s the humble guy down on the ground with us, but he’s not afraid to question when the bigger fish are doing something he finds questionable.
…it doesn’t have to be by a well-known artist. A child can do an archetype, maybe probably does more type of [archetypal] images than artists do. They spontaneously arise.
Thomas Singer, Jungian Analyst
I was arrested by this bit on a recent This Jungian Life Podcast. It seems to harmonize with something I’ve been trying to capture in my classroom; that a comic’s resonance is not dependent on the quality of its images. In other words, you don’t have to be a great illustrator to be a great storyteller. Anyone can make a comic that moves an audience, even if the author doesn’t identify as an artist. But this discussion on archetypal images adds another dimension to that idea. Maybe there’s something about art that emerges from a place of spontaneity that carries more charge with it. A practiced artist can do this, of course, but it’s a combination of the spontaneity and skill at work. It’s not just the skill.
I’m going to think about this and how I can more thoughtfully impress this on my students.
Today I share some thoughts on how a simple nudge from Kim Holm faced me with an inner demon that I suspect comes out of my history with mainstream comics. I don’t land on an answer to the issue, but I ruminate a bit about what my options are.
I was asked an interesting question in my Comic Book Academy class about how to figure out an order or sequence of scenes for a comics story. Today I share the answer I gave in class.
Today I give a sort of book review of a comic I finished recently–Peter Bagge’s excellent Other Lives, published by DC’s Vertigo imprint. I break it down by plot and theme, but as you might have guessed, I also talk about how this book demonstrates the things that only comics can do.
Today I share an exercise I’ve used in my classrooms to teach some vital comics storytelling skills. By drawing a conversation sequence, we explore moment choices, scenery, emotional context, acting moments, and best of all, word balloon placement!
Also mentioned some great lettering tutorials over at Balloon Tales.
Continuing my series of TPDs recorded on my drive to Grant, Michigan for the Kids Read Comics Super Fun Tour, I ruminate on some classroom interactions I’ve been having lately that remind me of some of the basic concepts of comics storytelling. Three key ingredients seem to be Shape, Size, and Line.
Today I revisit some thoughts on writing, and a go-to technique I use to write stories for clients and for myself: starting with a takeaway, or finding the story’s “aboutness”. It’s a slippery topic, and I’d love to hear from other writers as to what tricks they use to drum up story ideas. I refer to my episode on the Boulder & Fleet mini-comic during today’s essay.
Sharing a few thoughts on what I learned and what I fought against in making a mini-comic in a week! Surprises, sadness, and finding my courage to press on.
By the way, the mini-comic is complete! You can read it here.
Today I share some thoughts on how a simple nudge from 
Today I give a sort of book review of a comic I finished recently–
, published by DC’s Vertigo imprint. I break it down by plot and theme, but as you might have guessed, I also talk about how this book demonstrates the things that only comics can do.
Continuing my series of TPDs recorded on my drive to Grant, Michigan for the 