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Thursday, September 9, 2010
Minx and Indie Artists
A view from the inside
If you pay attention to the comic book industry, you of course have seen the news about DC's new imprint Minx, which seeks to market to teenaged girls. Everything that can be said about the shortage of female creators and the supposedly inappropriate name of the line has been said and then written and said and written all over again (and again!). Now that things have quieted some, I'd like to write about an issue that I feel has not been commented on: what DC's Minx line says about the role of independent comics in the industry. (Full disclosure: This is a subject that affects me personally, since I'm editor-in-chief of an independent publisher, Slave Labor Graphics.)
If you're a follower of independent comics, you might have noticed some familiar names on the list of artists who are doing books for Minx: Andi Watson (lotsa stuff for SLG and Oni), Jim Rugg (Street Angel), Aaron Alexovich (Serenity Rose). There are other indie comics folks, too--Ross Campbell (Wet Moon), Derek Kirk Kim (Same Difference and Other Stories) and Josh Howard (Dead@17). This is because, as Aaron put it at the bulletin board The Engine, "when [Minx editor] Shelly [Bond] was building the line, she specifically sought out people who were doing work that ALREADY appealed to girls." The result of this savvy head-hunting is sort of a mini-migration of promising young artists out of independent comics.
And no wonder, really. DC can pay artists for their work at a rate that these artists deserve (though, Andi Watson has noted that the rate for Minx books lower than that for their superhero titles). In addition, DC has $250,000 to spend on creating and marketing this new line. (They are using the "book packager" Alloy Media + Marketing, slightly infamous for being the book packagers of that Opal Mehta book that turned out to have quite a few plagiarized passages. Not that this will be the case for Minx books, of course, but people have been mentioning it). Independent publishers do not have these kind of resources; we simply cannot compete for the artists whose work we believe in.
This produces an unsettling feeling--in me, in any case. Independent publishers have taken the risks and done the work associated with introducing new talent, and in the end that work has amounted, in some cases, to us being a feeder for the "Big Two." The consolation prize in all of this is something I've heard a few times already: If the Minx line does well, it can only mean better sales for these artists' other work, right? Well, we certainly hope so, but we're not counting on it. Independent artists working on DC or Marvel's superhero comics, in my experience, almost never translates into sales for their indie work. There's just no crossover audience there. However, the Minx line is targeted at teenage girls and in that market there is crossover appeal, just not with an audience particularly known for seeking out graphic novels that aren't already stocked in the manga sections of big bookstores. So even if there are thousands of teenage girls who would love Serenity Rose or Wet Moon or Street Angel (and I'm sure there are), there is still the matter of reaching them.
Some Minx creators have told me they mention their independent work in their bios, but as one of the artists involved remarked to me, the $250,000 that DC is spending is not to promote Andi Watson books or Aaron Alexovich books or Jim Rugg books; it's to promote Minx books. On the other hand, I think it's been the strategy of some independent publishers to devote quite a bit of energy into promoting artists rather than brand. Certainly there are types of books that comics readers associate with SLG or Oni or Top Shelf--and "art comix" publishers like Fantagraphics and Drawn & Quarterly are the indie publishers most successful at marketing according to their brand--but often independent publishers work on creating a name and reputation for new artists as individuals, essentially a "brand" for those artists. Artists can take their individual brand anywhere they want since, despite SLG's full name, we do not own artists. (One could say that Marvel and DC do, at least when they sign artists to exclusive contracts.)
This is not to say that independent publishers are responsible for an artist's success; most of that is dependent upon the artist's talent, determination and that indeterminable "It" factor. I could say, plaintively, "But we discovered them first!" but that just amounts to whining, and to what purpose? I could be noble and slightly too-good-to-be-real and say, "We never expected to keep so-and-so; we knew his talent was much too big to stay confined in our little box!" but that rings false. I ask myself, We believed in these artists' work; why shouldn't they succeed? Why shouldn't they move on? It's just the way the industry is structured. At the same time it's still awfully hard to stand on the threshold, wiping away tears of pride, while they go off to bigger and better things. We're publishers, not parents, and comics are a business that we depend on as much as the artists themselves do.
If there are any tears (and there probably aren't--indie comic publishing people are a cynical bunch; we're more likely to throw back a shot or two than cry), they're out of frustration that we couldn't do better for these artists--and for ourselves. And of course as much as we gripe about the way the direct market is set up, there are the doubts. Is it us? Have we been naïve and idealistic in thinking that quality trumps hype? In thinking that complete creator-ownership is a viable business model? Perhaps what is most unsettling is a the thought that has repeatedly crossed my mind--that in order to succeed, independent comics publishers might have to give up the very qualities that made us different and, I thought, better.
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This mopey first "Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now" column was brought to you by the sadness that can eat away at your soul when you're in the independent comics business if you don't put up a barrier of well-marinated cynicism. The column was named for a line in the song by The Smiths by the same name, something of an inside joke at the SLG office: "I was looking for a job, and then I found a job, and heaven knows I'm miserable now."
I came to comics as a reader when I was a teenager, and started working at SLG as a production assistant nearly six years ago. At that time, I expected to become an English teacher. I finished getting my English degree, and even went on to get a master's degree. And yet here I am, quite irrationally devoted to an industry that kicks my ass again and again. Well, perhaps it's wrong to say I'm devoted to the industry; I'm devoted to the art and to the artists, and to storytelling of all types.
Thank you for reading.
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April 22, 2008:
February 4, 2008:
November 20, 2006:
A Comic-Con without the Captain
