I’ve been giving some thought to the transformation and commercialization of comic books as of late. I’ve been thinking about what they were when I was a kid and what they are now. I think the way that I am approaching this thought process is somewhat flawed. I am thinking about it in terms of profit and in terms of opening doors to new media/new opportunities. In fact, I’ve been down that thought road quite a lot lately. I think I’ve been looking at things through the lenses of money and opportunity more than through that of story. It is an odd realization, because story is why I came to the page in the first place. I’m not going to pretend like I didn’t care about people reading my stuff. I always wanted people to read my stories and like them, but I wanted to write them more than I wanted them to be liked, and I never factored wealth into the equation. Hell, back then I thought I’d get mine playing football.
These days I get mine teaching writing and critical thinking. I’ve gotten worse at that over the years–lost the focus and interest that I had when I came into it. I got jaded. I still love teaching and especially love teaching creative writing (i’ve gotten much better at that). I think that somewhere along the line I got wrapped up in the idea of being published and selling stories more than writing stories. In essence I became a word mercenary. If you know anything about mercenaries you know that they aren’t tethered to promoting an idea or a philosophical mission. They are for hire workers. I’ve been that guy for a very long time; so long that I’ve largely forgotten how to be any other kind of writer. That saddens me.
I believe this year ought to be more about writing my stuff (and figuring out what that is) instead of writing so much for other people’s worlds. It is time to break through the atmosphere of my own.