If You Want A Career in Comics, Learn to Surf.*

*I don't know how to surf irl, but bear with me, the metaphor works.

Hey party people!

Wasn’t planning on doing a second post this week but a couple of things happened that sparked an idea, and what do you know, we’re off the races!

So, the first thing was, Ross Richie, former owner and CEO of Boom! Studios (and really nice guy, btw) posted this to Facebook:

To which I posted the following response:

Which is a very simplified version of what actually happened, but a good enough distillation for a Facebook post.

The second thing I saw, coincidentally on Facebook as well, was what I can only call a wave of struggling creators complaining about their place in the industry, putting out calls “to the universe” about what publishers they’d like to work for, etc.

I’m not looking to call anyone out, so no pictures.

I’ll say up front this is not me criticizing them (or you, if you happened to make one of those posts). I’m guilty of complaining as much as anyone, and I’ve definitely done posts like that when I’ve been struggling. I’m not perfect.

Close, maybe.

So in the spirit of Ross’s post, I just wanted to share a way I’ve started to think about my career that helps me through tough times, and gives me what I feel like is a much healthier perspective on things, in the hope that it helps anyone else out there dealing with similar struggles.

You have to learn to surf.

I’m speaking metaphorically, if that wasn’t obvious. I have never touched an actual surfboard in my life - the closest I ever came was a skateboard, and I spent more time on my ass than I did on my feet. Body-type wise, I’ve always been more of an Angelo Pappas than a Johnny Utah, so I’ve come to accept it’s just probably not for me.

I’ve never been able to resist a good meatball sandwich. Or two.

Still, like Bodhi before me, I believe that philosophically, the concept and practice of surfing holds the key to living a happy, fulfilled, and creative life.

There are a lot of things you can control, when you’re surfing. You can control what kind of board you’re using, how you’re standing, which way to turn. Hell, you can even control what color wetsuit you want to wear. You can control why you’re surfing - do you want to do cool tricks? Find enlightenment? Catch a gang of bank robbers dressing up like dead presidents?

Judge all you want, it pays the bills.

They’re all valid reasons, and all completely up to you.

But there’s one thing about surfing you absolutely can’t control - the ocean.

The waves are going to do what they are going to do. They don’t care why you’re trying to surf them, whether you’re a novice, and expert, or Kelly Slater himself. The ocean just is.

In our metaphor, as you might have guessed, you are the surfer, and this industry is the ocean. It behaves like the ocean in that you cannot control what it does, and in the macro sense, it does not care about you.

Are there people in it that care about you? Absolutely. From your peers, to the superstars, to the Editors-in-Chief, they do. But they’re surfing the same ocean, and they can’t control it any more than you do.

sorry for the clipart, but I’m told it helps to break up big walls of text.

I think a big misconception I had at the beginning was that there was even this thing called “breaking in” - like it was some barrier to get across, with solid ground on the other side. But the truth I’ve come to realize is that there is no solid ground. There is just the ocean. And there is just you, on that vast ocean, on your little plank.

And the waves will come. And sometimes, especially at first, you’re going to eat it. You’re going to get dashed into the sand, dashed into the rocks, chewed up, spit out, wiped out, and wrecked on the shores of your own ambitions.

And the choice is always going to be, do you get back on the board, back out on the water, and catch the next wave, knowing that even if you succeed beyond your wildest dreams, that wave is still going to take you back to that same shore.

NGL, this looks like way more fun than sitting at a desk on a laptop.

The more I write, the more I’ve come to realize that building a career is just making that choice, over and over again. It matters much more than choosing what idea to pitch, choosing what job to take. Just the choice to let the ocean take you (see what I did there?), and stay up on that board for as long as you can.

The frankly terrifying truth is that the resistance is not personal. The rejections, the inattention, whatever it is that you’re feeling is holding you back, is not a conspiracy or vendetta against you. It’s the brutal reality that stepping into this industry as a creator means stepping into something whose movements are controlled by vast, deep currents that have nothing at all to do with you personally.

And much as it might seem like those who have found success are in control of those currents, they’re not. They’ve just found their way to surf them.

And the good news is, that if they can, that means you can too.

If you want to believe one thing about me, believe this: I have been deep in the same struggle you are in. I have wanted to quit, I have cursed the ocean, cursed the heavens, raged and roiled and ranted. And yet I can look back and see an entire bookshelf of work that I am deeply, deeply proud of.

I see 10 original series on that shelf. Books translated into other languages. Books featuring beloved characters I grew up on. And I still don’t feel like I’m on solid ground.

That used to really freak me out, and to be honest, get me down. But not anymore.

Moondoggie knew the score.

I was trying to explain this all to my friend Rickey during NYCC, and he asked me flat out, what changed?

I don’t think I articulated it as clearly as I am trying to do here but it was a realization that I was not in control. I was not on solid ground. And I used to hate and fear that. But I’ve come to a place where I accept it, and even love it.

Because if I’m not in control, I don’t have to worry about it. I don’t have to try and dictate what the ocean is doing. All I have to do is focus on riding it. All I have to do is stay on my board, and take it as it comes.

So to answer Ross’s original request, what I would say to teach the next generation is this:

Get out on the ocean. Surf a wave. If you stay up, if you wipe out, you’re back on the shore either way. Pick your board up and go back out.

Again. And Again. And Again.

It’s the only choice you have to worry about.

And I hope to see you out there.

Alright, that was a lot! I hope it reaches the people who need to hear it, and proves an interesting read even if you’re not a creator yourself.

Until next time! (and don’t forget to pick up Venom next week!)

- Rich