Tools of the Trade

I ain't a special case.  If anything I'm probably a bit too "basic".

Like many young comic book fans, I dreamt of one day writing and drawing amazing stories... publishing my genius works of sequential art, and adding to the overflowingly rich industry I held so dear.  Thing of it was (and is), I can neither write nor draw.  You sit me down in front of a blank sheet of paper, and the only thing I'm going to add to it are speckles of nervous sweat.

I used to (and still do) lie to myself about my ability... pretending like I actually had some... all the while, concocting countless excuses to postpone actually doing anything.  Rationalizing and justifying my incessant inactivity as some form of "preparing".  Biding my time until everything was in place.  It's a mental trap... and one I still, thirty-odd years later, can't seem to escape from.

When I first found myself captivated by comics and the glory that is storytelling via sequential art, it was as though I was struck by a bolt of lightning.  The clouds parted and, sad as it may sound, my reason for living was suddenly made clear.  I was put here... to tell stories, to draw... to make comics.

Only, again... I'm not very good at stuff.  I could draw passably well enough... good enough for a junior high school student.  I could write stories that were good... again, for a junior high school student.  Only, I never put in the effort to improve.  Even back then, as a know-nothing 12 year old, I was too scared to find out that I couldn't.  As a know-nothing 43 year old, I still am.

And so, I made excuses for why I couldn't (and wouldn't) draw... or plot... or sketch... or, well, anything.

I borrowed half-a-copy of How to Draw Comics the Marvel Way from the public library.  I say "half-a-copy", because the thing was absolutely destroyed when I found it.  Pages missing, cover held together with masking tape.  It was one of the very few comic-related books on the shelf... as such, I'm sure it got a lotta love over the years.  I borrowed the book in hopes that I'd learn something... all it did was give me even more ammunition (as if I needed any) for putting off actually trying.

Unsatisfied with the few pages that were included in this dilapidated tome, I told myself that... if I was to be serious about this dream, I'd need to buy my own copy... a complete copy.  As if the "real secrets" to becoming a true comic book creator were only on those missing pages. Problem was, How to Draw Comics the Marvel Way carried a price tag of... thirteen dollars.  As a poor kid, who might get lunch money once or twice a week... who already earmarked those funds for actual comics... thirteen bucks may as well be a hundred.

It took some time, but I would finally save up the cash.  I remember trudging down Sunrise Highway to the Bassett Books (before Borders took them over) to make my big, would-be life-changing purchase.

[caption id="attachment_37649" align="aligncenter" width="494"] 

My water-damaged copy of How to Draw Comics the Marvel Way[/caption]

I tell ya what... I absolutely tore through this book.  Reading it over and over again until I could pretty much cite it chapter and verse.  I learned how many "heads" tall Reed Richards is... what Hank Pym's "ant's-eye view" might look like... ya know, all that stuff.  The sort of stuff that was meant to help the reader improve in their craft.  My problem was (and still is), these weren't the pages I focused on.

The pages my stupid ass became enamored with were... these:

The "tools".  The things I'd convinced myself I absolutely needed to own before I even put pencil-to-paper.  I didn't realize it then (or maybe I did), but the trap was set.  A trap that, thirty-plus years later, I still can't escape from.  I made my "shopping list", and as this was before the days of wider-internet... I had to resort to making phone calls to local art supply stores I found in the yellow pages to price out these "gotta have" items.  Almost feels like I keep adding unnecessary steps to this process, doesn't it?  What's so hard about dragging a friggin' #2 pencil across a piece of notebook paper?  Why should my lack of tools stop me from writing a script?  Why couldn't I bring myself to DO IT?  To do ANYTHING?  Why can't I do anything... even today?!

The thing with art supplies, and I'm not blowing any minds here, they were (and are) pricy.  Especially when you've convinced yourself that only the best supplies would suffice for your artistic vision and goals.  You might think that, in finally purchasing these supplies, that I'd be able to bring myself to, ya know... drag a mother-effing pencil across a piece of paper... but, you'd be wrong.  Ya see, when one buys a (relatively) expensive "tool of the trade", it's sort of intimidating.  Especially when you're as creatively limited and untalented as your humble host.  You (or I) become afraid that I'm going to, I dunno "misuse" the $5 pencil.  At least that's what you might tell yourself.

The truth is... and, this is where the "trap" widens a bit... when I'd doodle in class, using a garbage pencil and lined spiral notebook paper... I could kind of, I dunno, "excuse away" any lack of quality.  After all, I was using sub-par tools, and doodling only when the teacher wasn't looking in my direction... so, if whatever I was drawing looked crappy, it wasn't an actual indictment on my "talent".

But... now that I have the proper gear... if my work still sucked, I could no longer blame my tools.  Does that make sense?  I spent the entirety of my high school years with an empty sketchbook (several empty sketchbooks)... and (relatively) pricy pens that all but dried out before I even bothered to run 'em across a piece of paper.

But, ya know what?  Kids are fickle with their interests... and, might have a penchant for losing focus... especially when it comes to "putting in the work".  Not trying to make a blanket statement, per say... perhaps I'm just trying to make my own lazy ass feel better about squandering so much time.

What happens when the wannabe artist/writer/creator becomes a young adult?

Well, in most cases... they truly begin to explore their creative passion, and start making things happen.  In my case... well, I bought a gigantic drafting table (like almost cartoonishly big), a bunch of art how-to books, and had the same blank piece of Bristol masking-taped up ready to be drawn on... forrrrr, probably two years.  For me, it was almost as though appearing to be an artist (by having all the cool/expensive art shit) would somehow make me one.

When I finally caved in and tried drawing something... it became painfully clear to me that, I hadn't improved since junior high school... which, totally stood to reason, since I hadn't practiced at all since then.  Thing was, I was now in my early-20s... having wasted near a decade of my formative years on pipe dreams, fear, "playing the part", and inaction.

I made the difficult... well, maybe not-so difficult, decision to move away from art... to focus my "talents" on the other side of the table... writing.  Only, I ain't good at that either!  Okay, I'll give myself a bit of uncharacteristic credit.  I think I can be a decent "idea guy"... I've got some ideas that I feel have potential... it's just that, turning those ideas into stories... with a world, characters, and dialogue... is something that reaches far beyond my limited talent.

What's more... some unknown writer trying to break into the comics industry has a far tougher time than an unknown artist.  Art kind of speaks for itself.  At a glance, you can tell whether or not an artist has talent, skill, or just plain "it".  A writer though?  Well, if you're a writer trying to get noticed... you need to actually get people to read the words you're spitting out.  As someone who has spit out a couple of million on this very website, trust me when I say, that's far easier said than done.  And so, this "writer only" deal proved to be a short-lived diversion/distraction.

If I wanted to actually do this... I'd need to stop being a punk, and draw something.

But what?

I didn't know then... and, I still don't today.

And so, I went back to faking it (to myself) til I made it (which I never did).  I bought even more art how-tos... I started buying things like SKETCH, Comic Book Artist, DRAW! and Write Now! Magazines thinking they'd cause something to finally "click" in my head... or, maybe that I'd one day hit that tipping-point, where I realized how much money I was spending on these "tools" without even a single panel of art to show for it.

The only things these magazines did was... add to my shopping list.  I think it was in an issue of SKETCH where I learned that George Perez used a 0.03 pencil and would usually sketch out pages using a lap-board.  I also learned how a lot of pros used blue lead for initial layouts.  Ya know, I'd never compare myself to any actual comics pro, let alone comic book royalty like George Perez... but, damned if my stupid ass didn't spend weeks scouring the city looking for a 0.03 mechanical pencil.  I got to keep up the illuuuuusion of being a "creative" while not actually creating anything.  After all, it wasn't my fault that a damned 0.03 pencil was so hard to track down!

But, it wasn't just the art tools that kept me inactive.  It was also, of all things, finding the "right" notebook.  Now, if you'll pardon my preciosity and pretension... it was in an issue of Write Now! where I learned that... well, I can't remember which writer it was (might've been Bendis... but, don't quote me), used a Moleskine notebook for their scripts and notes.  Not just any Moleskine (which was already a not-so-easy to track down - and also quite expensive notebook), but a specific, I dunno, "model" of Moleskine (which I can't remember the specifics of).  And so, it went on the never-ending shopping list... and I wasted more time and money procuring one than I'd like to admit... though, I suppose I kinda just did.

Around this time, I was approaching my mid-20s... and I made a "deal" with myself... wherein, if I didn't have anything done by the time I turned 25, I would give up.  And, lemme tell ya... in those final months leading up to my twenty-fifth birthday I... well, I didn't actually do anything... but, I thought about it an awful lot.  Well, that's not entirely true... I did draw a LITTLE bit... enough to where, I was able to print up my own two-sheet "ashcan" of some very lazy work.  I also spent $500 on a "tabloid-sized" scanner so I could digitize my work!

I deemed this sad, last-ditch attempt a failure.  And so, at the ripe old age of 25, I pulled the plug.  It was honestly more of a relief than anything.  I focused on my day job... and kind of resigned myself to living a life where I didn't actually create anything.  Where I didn't try and leave a mark.

I'd dabble a bit here and there... did a NaNoWriMo before I turned 30.  But, that was the extent of my creative output... if I can even call it that.  Then I spent the better part of a decade writing and talking about the works of actual creative people.  I've said it before, and I'm sure I'll say it again: "Those who can... do.  Those who can't... review."

So, why in all hells am I sharing this?

Well, as I sit here today... it's as though I've been shifted back to my early 20s.  I'm not an old man by any stretch, but I can't help but to feel as though life is rapidly passing me by.  I'm in a position now where I can dedicate more and more time to creative pursuits... and, with my wonderful wife's support and blessing, decided to give it one more "go".

But... I still find myself in the same trap.

It's been every bit of 20 years since I last sat down to draw... and, while "art" in and of itself hasn't changed... the way in which art is made has.  Everything's easier now... but, also so much harder.  If I were afforded the current-year perks back when I was starting out... well, I probably still wouldn't have done anything, but -- had I actually decided to?  It would have been SO much easier.  Every art supply one might need is part of drawing software.  Self-publishing is just an upload... not scanning a page (usually in pieces), saving to a disc, and running down to Kinko's where you'd pay for every single sheet to be printed.

With all these "current year" perks... I once again found myself focusing more on the "shopping list" than actual creation.  Ordered myself a pretty bad-ass (and wildly overpriced) "artist" laptop... which, nearly a year later, I'm still far too intimidated to actually use.  Bought some bad-ass (and overpriced) artist software... which, goes on sale like twice a year... so, I "had to" wait about six months before pulling the trigger on.  Similarly, found some highly-regarded writing software (which was reasonably priced... but, does go on deep discount a couple times a year) that I had to wait for.  Months just keep piling up... while my productivity remains at zero.

It's pathetic.  Seeing all of this written out here for the first time... what's my problem?

I used to think I had a "fear of failure"... I'm starting to realize that's not true at all.  I now understand that... I'm scared that I can't even manage to fail.  Failure would be a wonderful option at this point... it would certainly beat the hell out of inactivity and procrastination.  And, I say this as someone who's spent the past two and a half hours writing this sad-sack journal entry in lieu of actually "creating" anything.

Anyway... brain-dump over (for now).  Thank you for reading.

Evergreen to Ephemeral

 

Hey, howsitgoin?  It's been a minute, eh?

Sorry 'bout that.

Been a bit busy with "da real life" and, to be completely honest, quite directionless creatively... even more so than usual.  While I'll admit it's been rather refreshing to step away from the mic and keyboard for a beat, I can't seem to shake the nagging feeling that I should be, ya know, doing something (at least somewhat/tangentially) creative.  On some level, every day I'm away feels like a failure.

While Chris is on Infinite Earths and X-Lapsed eventually evolved into things I actively dreaded having to do, they were still a teeny-tiny little mark I could leave on each and every day.  Something I could point to and assure myself I "existed".  Good or bad... popular or ignored, it was still something.

In an attempt to not completely abandon this creative outlet, I have been half-assed "remastering" old posts over the past few weeks.  The transition from Blogger to Wordpress was not a "clean" one.  Many of my migrated posts are janky jigsaw-versions of the originals... fonts and sizes are all over the place, images are repeated or just plain missing... many posts didn't migrate over at all, while others migrated multiple times!  The deeper I dug into the archives, the more cluster-frigged it all looked.  It honestly left me wondering if there was any saving it... or, if saving it was even worth the time investment.

One of the things about going through one's own archives, is that you get to see yourself... your words, your takes, your format evolve (or, perhaps even devolve) over time.

One of my goals in starting my own little blogging/podding corner of the internet was to create "evergreen" content... evergreen, or as close to evergreen as possible.  For awhile, a pretty long while, I think I was successful (at least in concept) in doing just that.  I was discussing comics in a way that my little articles could be read at any time and still be... I dunno, enjoyed?  On the pod-front, Reggie and I were putting out, for lack of a better term, weekly audio documentaries.  Heavily-researched, largely "evergreen" content... discussing seminal (and lesser known) moments in comics history on a very deep level.

Then along came X-Lapsed.

After Reggie's passing, I felt like I needed to do something "different".  I didn't feel right about continuing anything that might in any way resemble the Cosmic Treadmill or Weird Comics History.  I still wanted to discuss comics, I still needed to... but, it couldn't be in our old format.  The 'Mill  and WCH were (and are) sacred to me.

And so, X-Lapsed became my "brand".  And my "work" went from evergreen content that could be listened to/read at any time to ephemeral fluff that could (and would) be forgotten about as soon as it's been consumed.

I went from putting out documentaries, to hosting The Tonight Show... opening monologue and all!

But not just The Tonight Show.  It was The Tonight Show... with insane continuity and zero good "jumping on" points!  It became a show where, if you missed an episode... it didn't matter.  If you missed a week of episodes... you probably didn't need to bother coming back at all.  It was ephemeral... only "important" in the moment, and even then... largely forgettable.  Add to that my inimitable vocal talent and natural charisma... and, that's one helluva recipe for disinterest.

Over the years of X-Lapsed-ing, I feel like I kind of "lost my way".  My creative outlet became a rut... and, a "job".  I found myself caught in a trap of my own design... unable to indulge in (or enjoy) anything not having to do with an "X".  I'd forgotten how to read comics for fun.  I'd just plain lost the ability to.  Every comic I read had to be a "multitasker".  I robbed myself of one of the very few things in the world I actually enjoy... which isn't a good place to be.

Now, I want to make it clear.  I don't regret X-Lapsed.  I'll admit that for a little while I did resent it... but, I don't regret the thousands of hours (and dollars) I've dedicated to the project.  It's still a massive "body of work" to be at least somewhat proud of... impenetrable as it may be.

Not sure what's next.  I still have that voice in my head nagging at me daily that I really ought to be doing something "creative"... just, at this point, I'm not really sure what that might wind up looking like.  Hopefully it's nothing as cringy or self-indulgent as this post!

Anyway.  Just a bit of a mind-dump here to clear out some cobwebs.  Thanks for reading.

On "Community"

Wasn't planning on doing any writing today... however, this morning I found I had a Direct Message on Instagram, of all places. I very seldom do any "gramming", as -- well, it's just not really for me. It's one of those places where comic book fans seem to fall over one another in order to be the "first" to spoil anything and everything that happens in comics. If you're a comic book fan who doesn't wanna have the thing you just spent $5 on ruined for you... well, you've been warned.

Anyway, this message was in regards to one of my recent navel-gazing "think-pieces" -- and, funnily enough -- although I usually second and third guess most everything I type... this message took issue with a paragraph I didn't even give a second thought! It went a li'l somethin' like this (underlined part for emphasis):

I think my main deduction here… if I can even call it that — is that, creativity needs to be intrinsic. Not that there isn’t a place for everybody — but, speaking for me personally — I need to get back to what’s “real”. I’m not a comics news guy… I don’t kiss near enough ass for that, nor am I interested. I can’t depend on any of the “communities” to help me out — for the better part of a decade, most pretend this site doesn’t exist anyway. For me, I’ve guess I’ve gotta stop making “content” and start actually writing again.

Like I said, I didn't even give it a second thought. Because, to me -- at the time -- it wasn't even something I'd think to question. This speaks to the "bubble". The bubble, isn't a good place to be -- as the name suggests, it's a literal echo chamber... with very little air to breathe. Worst of all, when you're in it... you're usually all by yourself.

Back when I worked a "real job" (as in, had to physically leave my home and engage with other people every day), part of my gig was routing and dispatching long-haul truck drivers. There was a phenomenon we referred to as "trucker brain"... which, isn't an indictment on truckers, more a commentary on the human condition. Truckers spend countless hours by themselves... with very little to distract them. Trucking, like any skill, becomes rote... leaving one's mind to wander. Oftentimes, this can lead to feelings of persecution... or, paranoia. The feeling that everybody's out to get you... and/or, anything someone says to you is somehow a "slight"... or is something that should be taken personally.

Does that make sense? Hopefully.

Similarly, when you prioritize something like... ya know, blogging... which in and of itself can be a very lonely and solitary endeavor. Think of it as just jotting notes in a diary... nobody's going to read it -- and hell, nobody's going to even want to, unless they already know you. It's easy to succumb to a sensation/phenomenon like "trucker brain" when you spend every free moment of your day -- writing.

It's easy to feel left out of things -- it's also quite easy to convince yourself that your being left out is somehow meant to be personal... or malicious. We fool ourselves into feeling these feelings. Maybe it's our old friend The Imposter speaking -- maybe it's a defense mechanism... wherein you can blame other people for being jerks... instead of coming to terms with the fact that you're just not good enough? Or -- Or -- Maybe it's a way to soften the realization that... you're just not very personable... and while your work might be solid, you just don't have it in you to "fit in".

It could be many different reasons... or, none at all. Maybe people in your niche just haven't the foggiest idea you exist? That's... one'a dem double-edged swords, innit? I feel like even the nobodiest among internet nobodies still tells themself that they "matter"... but, truth of it is, the internet's a big place. Lotsa voices... lotsa similar-sounding voices, sayin' a lot of the same stuff. It's hard to stand out. So, often times, we don't.

Now, to the Instagram message.

Not going to "name names", but this message was from a very kind member of the X-Men Content Creation Community -- and they took issue with the fact that I said I "couldn't count on" any communities -- and also that "they'd spent yadda-yadda time pretending I don't exist".

First - Hey, thanks for reading! I honestly didn't think anybody from that niche did -- especially since I've stopped sharing these on social media.

Second - Allow me to try and 'splain. Because, no matter how "trucker brainy" I can be (and, lemme tell ya, I can be), this bit is rooted in an actual experience. I briefly spoke of this on the air in a somewhat recent episode of X-Lapsed -- but, haven't yet written about it.

Several months into X-Lapsed, I was -- well, "discovered" probably isn't the right word for it. I'm not sure there even is a term for it. Lemme paintcha a pictcha. Every so often on social media, comic book pros will "slum it" with the fans, and ask a question like: "Hey comic people, what podcasts are you listening to?" This often results in the same 3-4 "networks" being glad-handed... it's often just an exercise in frustration for a nobody such as myself. Well, this time, a pro asked specifically for "X-Men podcasts". Naturally, the same handful of shows were touted over and over again -- nothing new to see here.

Then, a listener -- or, someone who'd just seen my profile -- mentioned X-Lapsed! There was no "hey, you need to check out X-Lapsed!" or anything -- they just included my Twitter tag in a cluster of like two dozen of em. I thanked them for the "signal boost", and went on with the rest of my day -- fully realizing that this would get me zero new listeners.

Then, I got a Direct Message.

I'm not sure who this person was -- I tried digging up the DM to share here (anonymized, of course) -- but, it looks like, whoever it was, deleted their account. I never delete a DM -- I only wish I screenshotted it.

Anyway -- this message was, if ya can believe it, a warning. I was advised that I was "never gonna get in". The X-Men content community wasn't looking for "new voices", and basically that I should just quit.

Again, haven't the foggiest idea who this is/was. Were they X-Men podcasters? Were they a fan of a certain X-Men podcast trying to get a pat on the head from their favorite show? I dunno.

I thanked them for reaching out... and didn't think much more of it. All this told me was that -- if certain folks in the community were unaware that I existed -- well, now they knew. Maybe. My main takeaway here is, I didn't think much of it. I've received some pretty nasty Direct Messages over the years. A couple of especially evil ones after Reggie passed in 2020. When compared to those -- this one was nothin'.

Then -- I started to notice things. Things I may not have even noticed before this DM.

I noticed the X-Men Podcasting community... acting like a community. One that, well -- wouldja lookit that -- I'm not a part of. No invite in Chris' DMs... just that weird passive-aggressive "warning". Normally -- I wouldn't give this a second thought. I mean, at this point, it'd been a half-decade of me failing to to make connections.

If only I hadn't gotten that "warning". It stuck with me... which, was probably the intention. What can I say, I'm a pretty weak and precious fella. It stuck... and, when push came to shove, it completely soured me... because I let it. At this point, I've pretty much given up on ever being part of any "community". Which, lemme tell ya -- is a crummy place to be.

We've been talking a bit about being "rational". But, that often runs counter to our emotions. Add to that "trucker brain", and you've got a recipe for some pretty unpleasant thought-soup. Rationally, I know that -- I'm not all that personable. I envy the hell out of people who are. Rationally, I know that -- not everything I write is great (which everybody can say), but, there are things that I've written that have been solid (which, again, everybody can say). It's not an indictment on my "talent" or ability that the networks and/or "communities aren't tripping over each other to come for me -- truth of the matter is, nobody's "coming for you". You have to be willing and able to put in as much as you hope to get back -- and, honestly -- I'm just not outgoing enough for that. It's a harsh lesson -- but, one that I think I need to make peace with. Hopefully one day I can.

Apologies for the continued naval-gazing here at the site. I probably should've just sent this as a reply rather than dedicating a whole post to it -- buuuut, we're like 1500 words in already, so -- ehh, what the hell, right? Hopefully, if you're dealing with some of these same questions/worries -- you can get something out of this. As a cautionary tale... or a simple reminder that you're not alone in feeling this way. Thanks for reading.

There's a Fungus Among Us

 For today's self-indulgent piece, I want to focus on some PSY-101 sorta stuff as it pertains to... well, I don't wanna necessarily say "creative professionals"; as I'll be mostly referencing my own experience, and I ain't no pro -- maybe, I'll just say "creatives". Fake-Ass Creatives? Wannabe Creatives? Delusional Creatives? Whichever of those I'm currently referring to myself as.

It's something many people reading this are likely already quite familiar with... even if you aren't aware of the exact terminology. Today, we're going to talk Imposter Syndrome.

Now, there are plenty of other places on the internet where you can read/listen to the words of actual professionals regarding this phenomenon... there are also tons of wildly successful people out there who lived this, and have eloquently shared their experiences. I don't know about all'a y'all, but... I have a hard time relating to "wildly successful people". Hopefully, I can discuss this from the perspective of someone whose level of "success" is a bit more realistically attainable than some movie star, scientist, or author.

I suppose I ought to try and qualify that, eh?

What constitutes "success" for a creative nobody? Speaking personally, which is about the only thing I'm almost qualified to do -- this originally came down to, what I called "The Two Effs". I've spoke and written about how my priorities shifted and became far less healthy... and how "toxic" my relationship with my work became... but, right off the bat -- day one goals: The Two Effs.

The Two Effs were "Fun" and "Friendship". Isn't that about the sweetest thing you've ever read? What can I say, I'm a pretty basic dude. Or, at least I was. I didn't have any pollyannaish beliefs that my creative output would lead to anything "tangible"... not because I didn't see the potential of bloggers/podcasters/internet whateverers parlaying their work into anything greater -- I simply didn't think I had the ability or talent to do it myself. I didn't deserve it.

I started this project (as I tend to do with all projects) with the box marked "failure" already checked off in my mind. With that said, I lowered my expectations accordingly. Prescribed myself more attainable goals... purposefully nebulous goals. A metric as solid as Jell-O... goals that were far more difficult to accurately measure. What is "fun"? What is "friendship"? How does one even begin to measure that?

Well, that's kind of the point. If, when I set out to do something, I set unmeasurable goals -- I can't actually deduce success. It's a defense mechanism... as, if I can't measure success -- I also can't measure failure.

Pretty sneaky, eh?

Well... kinda. Lemme 'splain...

For someone like me, who has a weird predestined sorta take on failure... it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. Can't measure success... so, ultimately, failure is the only option. What's more, no evidence to the contrary will change my mind.

Now, why is that?

Because I "know" deep down that what I do here doesn't "measure up".

Howzat for a statement? My rational brain realizes that it's a ridiculous thing to say... however, rationality often takes a backseat. Let's break down that sentence... "Because I 'know' deep down" -- from time to time, we all doubt in our abilities, yes? Please agree, because if it's "just me", than I've got deeper problems than I realize! It's normal to doubt... it's human to doubt. In reality, all I know is... that I don't know anything. None of us do, really. Gut-feelings are, just that... gut feelings. There's no predestiny to "success" (however you define it)... and, your main obstacle is oftentimes yourself. We'll circle back to that in bit.

First, however - let's tackle the second half of that sentence: "...what I do here doesn't 'measure up'." Well, first off -- measure up to what? Maybe "to whom" is a better question? In either case, though -- we've got yet another nigh-on impossible-to-define metric! It's enough to stifle ones creativity... and make ya second guess everything you set to doin'... but, it ain't gonna help make you "successful" (again, however you define it).

Folks who have been following Chris is on Infinite Earths since the get-go will probably remember how... well, extraordinarily ugly the site was... for like six years. It was this horrid orange boilerplate Blogger template... looked like I was writing in from 2004 or something. Early 2004. Why didn't I put any effort into designing the site?

Well... it's the same reason why I never invested in top-quality art supplies back when I dabbled in drawing. I wanted to have an excuse as to why my stuff might not be all that great. Sketching out superheroes on printer paper with a 50¢ mechanical pencil... gave me an "out". Why's my art so "ehh"? Why am I not improving? Well, it's because I don't have the right materials. A-ha! I'm NOT a failure... I'm just not giving it by best shot! Even then, if I drew something that was halfway decent, I could give myself a pat on the back for creating something... with inferior tools. With Chris is on Infinite Earths... if I sucked, or nobody cared -- I could tell myself that it's because "I'm not trying by hardest"... after all, it's "just a crappy blog". And so, I WIN... right?

Well, no -- of course not. I wouldn't be writing this piece if that were the case.

My predestiny of "failure" -- and, again, I don't have a definition of failure outside of "not success"... which, I mean, success is another thing I haven't yet accurately defined -- was born out of feelings of fraudulence. Enter: The Imposter.

If you'll indulge me -- a(nother) tangent. I've spoken and written a fair bit about my academic career. Believe it or not, the words you're reading, are written by a fella who holds a couple Psychology degrees. I know, I know... you'd expect an educated dude to be able to discuss these things in a more learned sort of way. Anyway, higher education came late for me. Due to a confluence of events, I ultimately started college when I was 31. There were a number of reasons why I put it off for so long... but, in looking back, the main one was -- I was afraid. I was scared that I'd be outed as a fraud.

I'm able to carry myself decently well in conversation... and, every now and again, with the written word. I labor over nearly everything I say or write, in the interest of projecting the appearance of... maybe not so much an "intellectual", but instead not the dullard that I "know" I actually "am". When you focus so hard on keeping up... you can train your brain into believing that you've been "faking it" all along. Rationally... that makes no sense. It's also a very self-obsessed way of looking at the give-and-take that goes into discourse and conversation. To The Imposter, however, it's just another mask you're wearing to disguise the fraud within.

I avoided college... until I couldn't anymore. College isn't for everybody... and there are folks out there who have found spectacular and unreal levels of success without it. During my young adulthood, I convinced myself I was one of those people. I... was not. In reality, I was defending myself from failing... because, I was certain I would. As mentioned, in "creative" work, success and failure are self-defined and often self-dependent -- something like PSY101 has an objective metric... and a clear pass/fail. In school, I could fail... legitimately.

Would it be the end of the world if I did? Of course not. Would it suck? Well, yeah. Is that enough of a deterrent not to try in the first place? Well... it was... until it wasn't.

Of course, this isn't a 1:1 comparison. I went back to school because I had to. It was post 2008, which was the year in the United States where... ya know, everything went splat. The housing bubble burst, banks were getting bailed out... smaller businesses (like the one I worked for) couldn't compete with the ones that were proclaimed "too big to fail". It was a wildly unpleasant time. It was also a time wherein my wife and I were literally minutes away from being homeless. To say I had incentive to "better myself" would be an understatement. This is worlds different than being some knucklehead on the internet worried about being a failure on his blog.

Which is to say... the "need" to be "successful" (again, insert your definition here) isn't quite as pressing (as in, at all) -- it also remains something I can't quantify/qualify/whateverfy. I could allow my fear of being "outed" as a fraud to "take the wheel" here.

Back to the point... if, I even have one.

Earlier in this piece, I said something wildly basic that I said we'd circle back to. Your main obstacle vis-à-vis success is oftentimes yourself. I know, I know - hot take! But, it's important to understand when talking about some of the internalized struggle of The Imposter.

As I said, purposely not setting any straightforward or definable goals -- makes it wildly difficult to track your progress (or lack thereof). And again, that's by design. It would be easy for me to start this project with a goal of "getting X amount of comments a day", or "getting X amount of views"... but I didn't. Because, those are (relatively speaking, and "bots" excepted) hard numbers that I could fall short of. In those situations, I just assumed I'd fail. Can't be disappointed when you get exactly what you expect, right?

I could've set a goal to work alongside other creators whose work I'd admired... I mean, that could easily fall into "The Two Effs", right? It'd be fun... and, hopefully, I'd wind up making a few friends! Success!

Only, notsomuch.

The Imposter "knows" deep down that their work doesn't "measure up", remember?

The Imposter will never be as good as [insert other blog/podcast/whatever yer pleasure]... so, why bother even trying? If The Imposter does somehow luck their way into the "circle", the only possible outcome is that they'll be "outed". And, hell -- the only reason The Imposter would be allowed into the "circle" in the first place, is because a) they faked it well enough, or b) the "circle" took pity on them. It certainly isn't because they're good at what they do... or have anything of value to add.

Does this sound familiar to anybody? Hopefully it isn't just me. I'm sure it's not... right?!

The Imposter... despite being so worried about how they stack up... doesn't put much critical thought into exactly what they're trying to stack up to.

Think about someone you admire. If you are "a creative", maybe think of someone whose work you'd like to emulate. Now, let's try and reconcile some stuff. First, let's think about how hard it would be for YOU to do what THEY do. Next, let's think about how easy THEY make it look.

I have had people write in and reach out to tell me how effortless I make blogging and podcasting seem. To them, it's as though I've cracked some sort of code, and transcended into this self-actualized creator of stuff. It's said as a compliment, of course, and I always take it as one... while, also a) realizing that I've "conned" them, and b) attempting to reconcile their take with my own. Ya see, here's the big secret: this isn't easy for me. In fact, I make it far more labor-intensive and complicated than it has any right (or need) to be!

That said, the people whose work I admire... make me feel like what they do is effortless. Starting to see the disconnect?

Why do I assume what other people do comes easy to them... when I have firsthand knowledge that it's not? Why do I assume that they're naturally better at this than I am? Sure, some (many?) are... that's just life. But why can't I wrap my head around the likelihood that they might be struggling with this just as much (if not more) than I am? Well, that'd ruin The Imposter's narrative, wouldn't it?

Imposter Syndrome, at least for me, is most certainly a defense mechanism. It's a cursed suit of armor... that drains 1HP with each step taken. It stops me from doing things... because it tells me there's nothing worth doing. It won't allow me to celebrate any successes... because, it tells me that my successes don't actually belong to me. Anything that goes "right" is because... I got lucky, someone "higher on the food chain" shared something of mine, or "the algorithm" tossed me a bone. It's a very counterproductive mindset, as you can see.

Speaking of successes... the first time I felt "success" here at the site was the first time somebody left a comment on a piece I wrote. It was my now-great friend Walt, who left a few words on... I wanna say a "Bin Beat" article where I was kvetching about people breathing over your shoulder at the back-issue bins. It was the first sure sign I had that someone was reading the words I'd written. After reading it... I couldn't even "celebrate". It was everything I wanted, but I couldn't appreciate it... because I didn't think I deserved it. I'd conned him into writing. And... if I reply, the mask might fall off, and he'll realize that I'm an idiot.

I still struggle with that. I read and appreciate every comment I get... but, a big part of me still feels like I'm conning you all. Rationally, I know that's ridiculous -- but, unfortunately, these sort of internalized feelings aren't so easily changed.

I'm pretty sure I'm all outta words at this point... though, I wish I could end this with a bit of advice. If nothing else, I hope that -- should this piece resonate with you in any way, it shows that you're not alone in feeling like you're pullin' a fast one. You're not alone in setting nebulous goals. You're not the only one wearing that poisoned armor. Most importantly: I know deep down that you do measure up -- so, don't quit.

On "Content"

 When I started doin' this thing I do... I don't know that I ever actually put into words what it was.

Lemme break it down... to the best of my abilities. I was... well, writing. Did that make me a "writer"? Well, technically... yeah. Maybe it wasn't the same as writing the Great American Novel, or penning the lyrics to the anthem of a generation -- but, sure, I was putting digital words on digital paper. At some point between then an now, however, I mentally reframed it -- I was no longer writing... instead I was "creating content".

What does that mean?

Well, it's kinda nebulous, innit? To me, it's the difference between creating something "evergreen"... something that could (external factors notwithstanding*) stand the test of time, and be revisited or discovered at any point in time... and still be enjoyed -- and something that is purposely written/crafted to be enjoyed now. Something "on trend"... algorithm-friendly, and comparably ephemeral. Something that, when shared on social media will garner interest - if ya struck when the iron was hot. Does that make sense?

*Early on in the CioIE journey, I wrote some glowing pieces about a certain comic creator we no longer talk about.

In taking this time away from the grindstone of producing daily "content"... while still putting out these rather self-indulgent and navel-gazing pieces -- I feel like I've gained a measure of clarity. I've begun looking back at what I do/what I've done... in attempt to deduce when this mental shift occurred for me. When did my work stop being "true"? When did I turn into nothing more than a "content creator"? Now, when I suggest my work stopped "being true", I don't say that to mean I started lying. I've always been honest here -- it's more, as corny as it probably sounds, about being "true to myself". True to the original "mission-statement" of Chris is on Infinite Earths.

First, let's ask (and stumble thru answering) some questions, eh?

What is Content?

It might be easier to ask what isn't content... because, honestly -- technically speaking, pretty much everything online is content. For our purposes, however, the word "content" is going to be reserved for algorithm-chasing, ephemeral attempts at getting attention, finding an audience, and/or "going viral". Art used to be "art", right? Pre-internet, that is. Now, I'd never suggest anything I've put out is "art" in the classical sense -- instead, stuff that was creative and for its own sake. My writing and podcasting isn't/wasn't much -- but, it was that. Something I made... that existed only to exist. Does that make sense? Do I ask "does that make sense?" too much? I dunno.

What was my original "Mission Statement"?

At it's most basic -- it was to write. About something I was passionate and half-way knowledgeable about. Maybe paying a little lip service to some of the more obscure bits of the medium. It wasn't to be "the [insert comics franchise/character] guy". I didn't need to be the guy who would be tagged on every social media anytime, say, a certain Marvel or DC Comics "B-List" character got a mention on Newzarama or wherever. It was about nothing more than putting words on paper for their own sake. If people enjoyed it, they enjoyed it -- and if not -- well, the fact that it exists was the whole point anyway.

It was always my goal to create the sort of "content" that I, personally, would like to consume. Honest, passionate sort of chatter... about the sort of stuff ya don't see (literally) everywhere else. I could be the thousand-and-first person to "lol, discover" that Batman once punched out Guy Gardner, right? And yeah, it'd get a bunch of views. But -- is that something I wanted to do?

No. No it wasn't.

So, when did that change?

It's hard to say, exactly. But, before we pull out the fine-toothed comb, lemme blather on a bit more about what current-day "content" is. I mentioned that it's ephemeral. What does that mean? Quick 'n dirty: It means short-lived. For those of us of a certain vintage, we might remember Baby Jessica in the well. If you're too young, Google it. It was, back in -- what, 1986 or so -- the most important thing in the world... for like 15 minutes. Hmm, maybe Andy Warhol was right about all'at.

One of the main differences between "art" (speaking broadly) and "content", to me, is longevity. In "current-year", I feel that many (if not most) creators out there are only interested in the next fifteen minutes. Hell, fifteen seconds might be more accurate. It's about the immediate "high" and validation. It's not about making a lasting statement (or any statement, really) -- it's not about actually creating anything. Well, maybe creating a "brand" for themselves -- but, that's a whole 'nother kettle'a fish.

Tightening focus to the "comics-content-creation-community", since, that's kinda what I do here -- I think this is most apparent in the fact that we (collectively) seem to have something of an identity crisis. This might be a universal "observation", however, since I only know of the comics stuff, it's all I can actually speak to. What is the "identity" of a "comics content creator"? Are you... just a fan? A commentator or reviewer? A self-professed "scholar" looking to educate the unwashed masses? Are you an informed industry "insider" because this one time, this one pro thanked you for your 10 outta 10 review? Are you a "news outlet"? Are you all of the above? None of the above? Depending on the day-of-the-week above?

Regardless of your "role"... what is it you create? What is it you add? Do you create articles/videos/podcasts that you believe in -- that truly make you feel fulfilled? Or, are you chasing that algorithm? Are you looking for the dopamine-hit you get every time someone clicks that heart or thumbs up? And don't get me wrong here -- I'm not looking down on anyone or calling anybody out for doing what makes them happy. In fact, the entire point of this exercise is for me to recognize, and make peace with the fact that I'm guilty of all of it!

I went from putting out work I believed in and felt fulfilled by -- to "chasing". It's a trap... but, it's a damn easy one to fall into. I mean, you get a "taste" for it... often by accident. If you write/create for long enough, eventually something is going to break through. You're going to get that validation... and, dammit, you're gonna love it. From that point on, you're gonna need it. It's going to reframe what "success" looks like to you... and, if you let it -- it's going to inform the way you create from that point on. It's a human reaction, totally normal and natural... but, at what cost?

Looking back, it's pretty clear to me when I was creating "for me"... versus when I was "chasing". As artistes, I think we always wanna tell ourselves that what we do is "for us". For the more enlightened among us... that might be true. I.. am not so enlightened.

I am at my most fulfilled creatively when... I'm spilling my guts. This past week's worth of post, f'rinstance. Painful as hell to write about... seeing these words staring back at me... it's a sobering look into the funhouse mirror that my creative-self has become. And yeah, it's self-indulgent... arguably cringy... but, at the end of the day: it's real. I'm not looking for validation... and oddly, they've been some of my most validating! I've gotten such amazing and thoughtful responses from these posts.

I used to call the Chris is on Infinite Earths Podcast an "emotional shiatsu massage". It would usually be a deeply-personal story along with some relevant comics chatter. Sharing the sort of moments that we all experience... or, can at the very least relate to in some form or another. They were deeply satisfying... and, oddly, though they were among the least promoted things I'd put out -- they were some of the best received. To this day (some three years later), people still reach out to thank me for those.

So, why'd I stop?

Well, because it was hard. Those shows were literally painful... it really was like I'd gotten a shiatsu massage on my soul. Emotionally draining... and exhausting. For that much effort, I told myself I needed more of a response. It was stupid, petty, petulant even -- but, it's where my head was. It was the most fulfilled I had ever been as a "creator"... and still, it wasn't enough! One of the things I've said a lot lately was how foolish I've been for not realizing (and appreciating) what it is I have. Practicing gratitude has never been my strong suit. I'm a pessimist, and admittedly, something of a man-child.

It's easy to look around your "creative community" and feel disheartened. To start questioning your value or your place in it. I mean, this is universal "social media is bad for you" sorta stuff here, right? It's hard not to compare yourself to others... especially when everything is so "in your face". You think about the amount of effort you put into your work... compared with the amount of effort you see coming from others... and you begin asking some of the inconvenient and, dare I say, "toxic" questions.

Why am I working so hard, when [insert person here] can just take a picture of a comic they bought and get several hundred likes?

Why am I pouring so much of myself into this, when [insert person here] can just go to Google Images, steal four comic covers and get several hundred likes?

Why do I respect people's feeds so much, when [insert person here] just tags everyone they know every time they belch something out?

It's far too easy to succumb to this trap of unproductive thinking... but, it's kinda what we've been trained to do, isn't it? I don't wanna get all tin-foil-hatty here, but, the tech companies that control the flow of the tap on the visibility of our creative output... they want us to ask these questions. Because, they want all of us to start "gaming the system". They want us to create content. And the pressure is there for us to do it every-single-day... at the risk of fading into (further) obscurity if we don't.

Which circles us back to the start. What is content? Content is anything. Content is everything. And also, content is nothing.

Your "content" can be something you toiled over and researched for days... weeks... months... years. Or, it could be some newz you "broke"... by taking the five seconds it took to copy and paste something from Bleeding Cool.

Do I even have a point here? Well, no -- not one that'll change anything, because (in my opinion) the system is irreparably (and purposely) broken. Fewer people (not a blanket statement, naturally) are interested in creating anything of "substance", anything that takes effort... because, that's just not incentivized... and, in this "hustle culture" it's a waste of time. In our niche, you'll get exponentially more eyes if you spoil what happened in an issue of X-Men that hit the shelves five seconds ago than actually creating something transformative... so, at the end of the day - why bother?

I think my main deduction here... if I can even call it that -- is that, creativity needs to be intrinsic. Not that there isn't a place for everybody -- but, speaking for me personally -- I need to get back to what's "real". I'm not a comics news guy... I don't kiss near enough ass for that, nor am I interested. I can't depend on any of the "communities" to help me out -- for the better part of a decade, most pretend this site doesn't exist anyway. For me, I've guess I've gotta stop making "content" and start actually writing again.

Talk about a ridiculous brain-dump of an article, eh? If you're still here, I humbly thank you for reading. If you're a writer whose fallen into the "content creation trap" and maybe doesn't feel so great about their work anymore... I hope this, if nothing else, reminds you that a) you're not alone, and b) you're completely normal (or, we're equally messed up!).

Soundtrack of Life - Everything to Everyone

 Back to the super-cringe "Soundtrack of My Life" -- and, thankfully a far less sappy and grim song/story.

This is a very new addition to the list... as in, it's one that hit me like a pile of (lego) bricks just this week during this odd creative-malaise/crisis I'm finding myself in. We're talking Everything to Everyone by Everclear - a nice poppy-sounding tune, but when you pay attention to the lyrics, it's somewhat accusatory toward people who portray themselves as the victim. I think many of us fall victim to... playing the victim, consciously or not. I acknowledge that, when I'm in a certain frame of mind, I'm highly susceptible to that.

You put yourself in stupid places
Yes I think you know it's true
Situations where it's easy to look down on you
I think you like to be the victim
I think you like to be in pain
I think you make yourself a victim
Almost every single day

The song is about more than just that though. To me, it's also about losing ones own sense of identity... shifting or amending what you're passionate about, in the belief that you're "filling a need"... or perhaps "filling a niche". You forgo the self in service of the nebulous (and potentially nonexistent) "other".

I hesitate at suggesting that anything I do here (or on the air) is necessarily "creative"... though, admittedly - there's a lot of "creation" involved. When describing what it is that I do, I've often come back to the ol' rhyming Chris chestnut, "Those who can - DO, those who cannot - reVIEW." That said, reviewing/analyzing/discussing media does involve at the very least a slight measure of creativity. Even when done as poorly as I tend to do it.

I mentioned a few pieces ago that I'd done a bit of recent naval-gazing here at the site... started going down my own rabbit hole, and rereading some of my old reviews/discussions -- something I very seldom do... something I very seldom have the time to do. What I discovered was that, back in the not-so-long ago, I was a very different Chris. I was passionate, un-cynical, and was very clearly having a good time. I wasn't spreading myself too thin... the blog-hobby hadn't yet grown into the monster it eventually would. It was just something I did... every day... and, back then -- I humbly believe I was also improving every day. I was becoming better able to express myself through words... I still had some grammatical hang-ups... and still wrote in a somewhat busted New Yawk accent -- but, (in my opinion) it worked. I wasn't trying to be anything more than what I was... one voice among many... just an idiot with a keyboard and a desire to share his opinion/experience.

But eventually, that wasn't enough.

Writing for an audience (whether you actually have one or not) can cause a weak-willed individual, such as myself, to begin to believe they've actually got something to say that's worth listening to. Even as I write this self-indulgent sentence, I'm writing it FOR you... if, in fact, there's even a YOU out there! You can get so wrapped up in it, that you forget that you're "one voice among many"... and suddenly, you want to be "the voice".

Focus is so easily scattered when you're starting a creative endeavor -- or, when you're wanting to start one. F'rinstance, a blog. You want to write... about something... but what? This is where I stalled out many times. I've talked and written about how, for several years during my late 20s and early 30s - my New Years Resolution would be to start writing... start blogging. I'd get so lost in the weeds about what I was going to write about, that I'd never actually write anything. Even than, I would trick myself into thinking that I was being creative... because I was thinking about being creative. That's a trap. I mentally reframed procrastination and inaction as actually being productive.

Eventually (in early 2016) I did act (I've told that story too many times already) - and clearly, my focus was comic books. And, while comics are a niche interest in and of itself -- it (can be) a pretty wide one. I knew I wanted to discuss comics... but, what comics? Was it going to be the X-Men? Teen Titans? ElfQuest? All comics? Mini-comics? What was it going to be?

It was about finding a balance between constraint and freedom. If I became an "ElfQuest guy", well -- that's quite limiting. If I was going to become an "X-Men guy" (which, eventually came to pass) -- that'd be a bit less limiting, but still have a pretty clear set of boundaries. If I chose to discuss ALL comics... well, that's a whole 'nother kettle of fish in as far as limitations are concerned, and I'll explain that in a bit. If you're here though, you know that I chose to discuss DC Comics. A pretty wide berth of content, multiple genres, the ability to discuss pretty much every single creator ever to work in the industry -- while, at the same time, giving my work a feeling of "focus". Self-imposed rules to keep me "on task".

I wasn't trying to be more than what I was. I just wanted to write... I wanted to feel like I was contributing to the fandom... and I wanted to establish myself as a fake-ass expert in a certain subniche, while still maintaining a fair amount of creative freedom. In deciding to discuss the wares of a single company... I felt confident that I could do all that. And, for a half-decade... I did!

But then... my focus started to stutter. I wasn't necessarily growing bored of what I was doing... I began wanting to be seen as "more" than that.

I mentioned a couple'a paragraphs ago that, had I chosen to discuss the entire comics industry -- there would be "limitations" there as well. Lemme 'splain. Even in just talking about DC Comics, I often found myself with an "embarrassment of riches" in what I could write/talk about. I'd stand in front of my wall of longboxes, paralyzed -- there were just too many choices. Had I opened that up to include Marvel and the indies... I'd probably still be standing there. This goes back to the concept of procrastination-as (or in lieu of)-creation. I'd get so tangled in thinking about what I'd write about... that I'd never actually write -- while, at the same time, fooling myself into believing I was still taking part in some sort of "creative process". Fact is, if you're not creating... well, you're not creating. I've had screenplays in my head for decades now... none of it's on paper -- none of it has been written; so I'm not actually creating anything.

Where was I? Ya see, focus is easily scattered.

Oh yes, Soundtrack of My Yadda-Yadda. At some point during my "creative career", I decided I would try and be... Everything to Everyone. I wanted to be seen as a go-to guy for all things comics. It's a foolish desire... especially when coupled with my social anxiety and relative lack of ability in actually talking with other people about this stuff. And yet, I still wanted to be.

You jump through the big hoop

You play all the right games

You try to be

Everything to everyone

There's a saying among (actual) creative types, that goes a little something like this (paraphrasing): You could lay a single brick for dozens of different houses and expect it to eventually become a mansion... or, you can lay brick after brick to build a single house, and eventually it will be. Recently, I've found myself falling into the single-brick trap. In an effort to be Everything to Everyone, I stopped paying attention to what it was that originally made all of this "work". I forgot all about what this hobby used to mean to me.

I think you like to be their simple toy

I think you love to play the clown

I mean, I went from putting out a "DC Comics Discussion and Review" every day to... completely losing focus, and sometimes putting out three random comics-related pieces a day... in various formats and medias. I did so thinking that I was actually adding something... when, all I was doing was scattering the focus of what made this site "work" in the first place. And by "work", I'm not implying it was ever anything resembling a wild success... but, it was consistent -- and had a small-but-steady audience.

Consistency thru constraint is a highly underrated approach... that I stumbled upon a) by accident, and b) without even realizing it until after the fact. This method is almost certainly why I have such an easier time when I engage in a "project". It takes the "choosing" out of the equation... it allows for less procrastination. It forces me to stay on task. I feel like, when I have a project that I can focus on, my work improves... and, might even break into the realm of "decent". Action Comics Daily, Vartox Week, DC Bonus Books, X-Lapsed, X-Men Vignettes... projects like these are where kept me focused.

But, I wanted more.

I wanted to be... ya know, Everything to Everyone.

Spin around and fall down

Do it again

Thing of it is, it can be pretty obvious when someone's heart just isn't in it. At least if you're someone who wears theirs on their sleeve, like I tend to. I went back and found exactly where it was that I began to lose focus here at the site. It was just after I wrapped up Action Comics Daily... and, was pretty "straw graspy" about what was coming next. I thought it would be interesting to keep up the anthology angle... and decided to go with seldom discussed DC's New Talent Showcase. Mainstream-ish, but obscure enough to keep "on brand". But -- before actually setting digital pen to digital paper, I got stuck in my own head. I allowed myself to lose focus on what made this process "work".

I stopped and thought -- which was my first (and greatest) mistake. I grew concerned that these oddball New Talent Showcase stories... would cost me readers. I mean, readership is always a concern when you're writing for an audience (real or imagined), but -- up to this point, I'd never not written something out of fear that people wouldn't wanna read it. And so, I awkwardly contorted the project into... something pretty stupid... and something which, ironically enough, did cost me readers. If you've been with me for awhile, you might remember this... though, it's such a blip that I barely do.

Instead of nosing down into New Talent Showcase... NTS was relegated into being one-third of my "creative" output. It was to alternate with John Ostrander and Del Close's Wasteland, and these Bizarro World one-offs from a hardcover collection. Scattered focus.

As mentioned, this was not successful. And, like any fella drowning in creativity-quicksand -- I frantically reached for anything to keep my head above the surface. I actually pulled the plug on all three of these projects... something I'd never done before here at the site. I tell ya what, once you quit your first project -- it makes it all the easier to quit subsequent projects.

Now, I started writing for other people. Thing of it is... those other people weren't always interested. Sometimes they were... but, not every day. At this point, however, that wasn't good enough for me.

You know all the right people

You play all the right games

You always try to be

Everything to everyone

From there, I feel as though my "creative" output had start to callous over... my hide got tougher, my face hardened... there was less joy in what I did. There was no more "focus"... it simply became an effort of chasing the high of engagement... followed by irrational bitterness. I internalized a lot of this... thinking to myself that I was now writing what other people said they wanted... and still, they wouldn't come.

Come on now

Do that stupid dance for me

In the time between than and now, I found myself regaining focus every so often. X-Men Vignettes is a pretty good written example, while X-Lapsed is one for audio. But, even with those fairly constrained projects, focus can become shaky. I mean, I feel like X-Lapsed has become so diluted by "other stuff", it'd a miracle that anybody would actually choose to listen to it.

So, is there a point to this? Probably not... but, if you are "a creative", or a "wannabe creative" like me, maybe take this as a cautionary tale to stay true to your own focus. Do what you're passionate about... and do it often. You may not realize it immediately (or ever), but you will improve... you will find your voice, your style, your tone... you will find your audience. It may not be a large and loud as you'd like -- but they will enjoy what you do and appreciate your hard work. Don't make the mistakes I have in overlooking these wonderful and supportive people. Maintain your focus. Maintain your passion. Don't waver, don't lose sight of why you do what you do, and don't try and be Everything to Everyone.

I wonder if you will ever learn

Why won't you ever learn

On Comic Book Reviews

Several months back, I got an email at the Weird Comics History/X-Lapsed gmail asking me to discuss my "reviewing process". This came after I got particularly into the weeds during an episode railing against the use and abuse of the "10 outta 10" reviewer culture we're currently suffering through.

Now, I've talked about this from time to time... often with passive-aggressive snark. But, I wanted to go a bit deeper today... and share a bit of my own personal experience with "online reviewer culture" and the "incentivized 10".

I wanna start just by saying -- if you like something... as in, really and truly like something, and don't think it could possibly be any better -- by all means, score it a Perfect 10. Tastes are tastes, opinions are opinions... far be it from me to project any of my baggage and distrust onto ya! In my opinion, comic books have been around nearing on a century... and, in that time, there might be... I dunno, a dozen "Perfect 10's". Let's face it, for the most part -- comics are pretty average. Even the above average and great ones... aren't perfect.

Right now, if you were to go to one of the useless comic book review aggregator sites -- you'd be hard pressed to find a single issue without a 10/10 score. Not only is this... ridiculous and unreal -- it's also incredibly dishonest. Now, comic reviews aren't like video game reviews or tech reviews. Comics are, relatively speaking, far more affordable... so, it's not like a comic reviewer is tricking someone into dropping a whole lotta bank. That said however, comic reviewers are still influencers... you still have the power to cause someone to open their wallet and part with their money -- as such, we/they really ought to be holding ourselves to some sort of standard, yes?

Now, I'm hard-pressed to hold "10 outta 10" reviews against smaller sites/channels/podcasts -- because, they're just over-the-moon jazzed that a comic company reached out to them in the first place -- and offered them free stuff to review. The smaller reviewer suddenly feels empowered and important -- and, doesn't want the gravy train of free stuff to end. I remember the first time I was reached out to... and, I thought I'd finally made it. I couldn't accept, since back then Chris is on Infinite Earths was strictly a DC Comics Review site -- and I was already doing all my "current year" DC reviews at Weird Science... but, I can't say I didn't come away from that interaction without a bit of newfound swagger.

Thing of it is... the internet has a pretty decent B.S. detector. Well, sometimes. If they see some smaller comic blog dealing out 10 outta 10s on every book they cover (while tagging all of the "right" people on social media), it's kind of a "tell". They're looking for attention, validation... and more free stuff. I've been part of collabs and groups who'd been given "comps"... and, when you review those comps honestly -- or, rather -- you're willing to point out flaws (regardless of how slight) -- guess what happens? You no longer get those comps. Or, at the very least, your access to those comps is threatened.

So, whattayado if you wanna keep getting the comps? Whattayado if you wanna stay "in the club"... and have your reviews shared by the pros and the movers and shakers in the industry? Well... in a lotta cases... you lie. Again, since this is the internet, I wanna make sure I clarify that I'm not making a blanket statement here. If Otis's Comics and American Cheese Singles Review Blog thinks every-single-comic that came out this year was a rock-solid, bullet-proof 10 outta 10... I'm not going to suggest he's got an ulterior motive or that he's "bought and paid for"... buuuuuut, ya know, maybe he isn't so much my "go to" for recommendations?

The 10 outta 10 mentality has turned into a "monster maker"... in that, to many (pros and fans) anything less is seen as a slight... an insult, even. By telling the pros and the companies that... most everything they put out is PERFECT, we're also telling them that, they can stop trying. Has "Comic Writer X" put out a 10 outta 10 book? Maybe. Does that mean every "Comic Writer X" book is a 10 outta 10? Absolutely not. Try telling that to them (or their fans) though.

10 outta 10s are so out of control that... if you actually stop and read some of these reviews, you'll notice some patterns. Either they're boilerplate template reviews, only differing in names of creator and character... or, they'll spend several paragraphs pointing out flaws, but still give the issue a "10". A friend sent me a link to a review a few weeks ago, where the reviewer spent the entire article talking about how "frustratingly shallow and empty" the entire issue was... but still scored it a 9.25 out of 10!

Why do that? Well, because sadly many people don't actually read reviews -- they just look at the score, and -- the higher you score an issue, the higher up on the list at the useless comic review aggregator site you'll be. Everybody wins... well, everyone except the reader!

Back to the "Monster Maker" aspect... there are creators in the biz right now who, struggle to deal with "less than 10" reviews. So much so that, they'll actually reach out and confront you about the "less than 10" score you gave them. It's done in a very "concern troll" sort of way. I'm not going to name-names, but I've been reached out to for things I've written. So have many of my friends and peers. They pressure you to amend your score, making some vague threats -- while also trying to pump up your ego. It's... weird. It's also wildly uncomfortable. Not as uncomfortable as being "brigaded", mind you... but, certainly not pleasant.

Comics reviewing... isn't like a huge deal, right? You may be trying to establish a "brand", so to speak... or, maybe you're looking for an "in" into the industry. In those cases, you're likely to do whatever you can to "play ball". After all, if you wanna be part of the medium... you can't be insulting some of the big names. It causes a bit of dissonance in that, while you don't wanna ruin your credibility by changing a score -- you also wanna keep the gravy flowing... and, you wanna be "in the club".

Imagine you follow a reviewer, who gives "Book X" a 7.5/10 on Wednesday... then, Friday, you notice it's been changed to a 9.25. Are you going to trust this reviewer in the future? Well, most people probably won't notice or care... but, personally -- that'd be one site that's getting un-bookmarked.

I was briefly a "staff writer" on a comics site. In our "staff chat" forum, one of the reviewers revealed that a professional had reached out to question them on an 8 outta 10 review. I don't know about you... but, 8 outta 10 sounds like a pretty good score to me. Better than average, right? And, I mean -- average is average. That's where most things wind up. Those (mid-range scores) are also likely to be the most trustworthy reviews. They're going to point out things that worked as well as any flaws. In my opinion, it's the "sweet spot" -- whereas "polar" (0/10 or 10/10) reviews so often have an agenda.

Anyway, this pro "concern trolled" and broke the reviewer down. It was "collectively" decided that, from that point on, this particular writer's work would never be scored under a 9 - and, that the reviews would be sent to them for approval before being published. I quit the site that day. Oh, and by the way -- in these private chats, it's pretty illuminating to see how some reviewers really feel about these books they're publicly dishing out 10's to.

It's easy to look at a writer like that, and accuse them of having thin skin... but, I really can't hold their reaction against them. Like I said -- WE (reviewers) created these monsters. WE told them everything they create is perfect and literally could not be better (there's no such thing as an 11 outta 10, right?)... because WE wanted to be acknowledged, WE wanted to be tagged in the tweets, WE wanted the free stuff. WE told these creators they are perfect... so, it stands to reason that they might start to question situations wherein they're reminded that they are not.

Shortly after X-Lapsed started, I was approached about doing another "Lapsed-style" show. This network enjoyed my format, and thought it would translate nicely over to another comics franchise. I was interested... and, ya know, humbled to have anyone reach out to me in the first place. So, discussions began. I made it clear that I wasn't going to give a "number score" to anything I covered -- and, that... if I didn't care for something, I was going to address it. This wasn't going to be the boilerplate "[Insert Writer] is a genius... and boy, would I love to interview them about this" sort of review show.

At this point, the site got a little squirrely in their responses. As it all shook out, the deal was going to be that -- I needed to record a few different versions of the show. My "normal Chris" style, an "editorial free" one (basically just walking through the issue without any commentary), and a "lite" version... basically, just a capsule review. From there, I'd need to send them in so the heads of the site could decide which version was published. That wasn't going to happen, so to say discussions stalled would be pretty accurate.

And again -- I can't honestly hold any of this against the site! There's a game afoot here... and ya gotta play to get the pay. I did them the favor of bowing out of the deal. Now, I mean - this isn't just a comics review problem... it's an all-encompassing internet review problem. And, at the end of the day -- none of it matters, except to the extremely precious among us (myself included/especially).

It's just unfortunate that we're living in an age where... literally everybody has a voice, and yet -- in situations like this, we're all saying the same damn thing... in service of people who likely wouldn't even spit on us if we were on fire.

What was the point of this piece? Search me... it sure as hell isn't going to change anything. I just hope that the comics internet's B.S. detector is fine-tuned enough to see past (or is it, "passed") the shills... and maybe start making up their minds for themselves. I want the "Perfect 10" to be special again. I want reviewers and influencers to be honest. I want creators to be okay with being "good to great"... and maybe see a 7 or 8 out of 10 as an opportunity to improve... rather than a slap in the face.

I can't think of a poignant way to wrap this up... so, I'll just pretend my pen ran outta in-