‘How To Draw Comics the Marvel Way’ is pretty much my bible… with Spider-Man, of course, playing the role of Job, and The Thing as Moses.

A battered, blue copy of ‘The Marvel Way’ has been knocking around my house since the late 70s, and I appropriated it for my own devices in the 1980s - replete with clean, dynamic John Buscema artwork and Stan Lee knowledge. From it, I taught myself an amazing array of basics and visual storytelling techniques. Such a valuable resource it is that it’s still published today in its original form, and I regard it as an essential tool in the arsenal of any comic artist - so intensely that it’s just about ridiculous.

Still, comics are a language more than they are a simple artform, and just like language, they’re ever-changing. ‘The Marvel Way’ has moved to the hallowed position of ‘Old Testament’, while a crop of new ‘how to’ manuals have sprung up to address this changing world of comics - not all of them good. The DIY comic movement, the indie & manga genres, online comics, changing materials, and the digitization of the process have given us a whole new lexicon to communicate with, based on these Marvel fundamentals. I’ve collected ‘The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Creating a Graphic Novel’, Scott McCloud’s ‘Making Comics’, and more graphic novels than I can count as I try to dig deeper and deeper into the culture and language of Comics. I’ve avoided the manuals that were obvious half-assery.

Most recently, I acquired ‘Drawing Words and Writing Pictures’ from First Second Books (who make all kinds of wonderful), and by Jessica Abel and Matt Madden, always seeking a few pearls of wisdom that the other books might have omitted, and the only thing I’m disappointed about is that this was published AFTER I finished teaching a high school level comics course. I’m still questioning whether or not I totally sucked as a teacher, and I’m even exploring this introspection, coincidentally, in an extensive comic. I think that this book would have helped significantly. Also, having students that were a little less preoccupied with The Hills.

‘Drawing Words’ is structured like a 15-week course, each chapter adding onto previous lessons with new layers of knowledge and technique, and even providing sample assignments to hone these new ideas, making it completely ideal for a semester’s worth of drawing classes, while still working for the solo aspiring comic artist. It provides plenty of examples from throughout the history of comics, with a large visual focus on the indie comics scene. I’d like to see superhero comics and ‘indie’ comics play nice together, because there’s almost no acknowledgment between the two about how influential and important they are to one another. I’ll just assume that this was due to copyright issues and not a conscious omission. Regardless, it’s the first manual in the collection of manuals where the authors come from a dominantly ‘indie’ perspective, and it’s well-informed about all manners of comics anyhow. As a side note, Jessica Abel was one of the people gracious enough to sign my Bizarro Comics book sometime last year.

The content in any of these books is pretty standard stuff, but it’s the presentation that brings it to life. Talk of clarity in storytelling and images, penciling, panel layouts and their uses, lettering, inking, basic anatomy, characters - it’s all there, while still basic and intelligent enough to keep the reader following. The book even speaks of a forthcoming second volume to delve into these principles even deeper, and given the depth of this one, I can’t wait to see what’s next. I have a feeling that volume two is where all of the real secrets live, even if I can’t figure out what’s missing yet.

The book itself is a big, floppy paperback - almost unwieldy, but very handsome and conveniently tabbed on the side, to easily find your current lesson. So far, it’s gotten me to move outside of my familiar ballpoint pen world and into exploring different india inks, brushes and pen nibs - which is a good thing. Somewhere inside, in some intangible place, it offered encouragement to try a few new things, which is really a gift - and at $30 (and even less on Amazon), it’s a completely affordable alternative textbook. I’m a little in love with it.

Every artist in the medium - or at least the really good ones - will add completely new phrases and words to the language of comics, will do something to resonate in a new way, or will communicate something important to just one new person. It’s not an easy job, but the more, the merrier. Come on in and learn the language - it’s one thing to understand it, but another thing to speak it.

This past weekend was a significant one for New York comic nerds of all ilks, from those exclusively into spandex and punching to those collectors who prefer their comics brooding and embarrassingly autobiographical. Not only was the seven millionth annual Big Apple Comic Con happening across the street from Madison Square Garden in the decrepit Hotel Pennsylvania, but the Museum of Comic and Cartoon Art was having their amazing annual Festival. It would seem that I had a big weekend ahead of me.

On Saturday, June 23rd, I attended the MOCCA Festival, located at the Puck Building (in the ridiculously trendy NoHo / SoHo area of NYC). The Puck Building, or at least the areas that we were allowed to access, was comprised of a series of large, interconnected ballrooms. In each one, artists and small publishers had set up simple 6-foot folding tables to display their works. There was no ridiculous fanfare, no corvettes decked out with TVs and people blasting out Guitar Hero tunes, no Marvel Comics shilling their latest galaxy-spanning, glossy-covered saga. The deceptively subtle, unadorned ballrooms were the perfect quiet atmosphere for artists to practice their art and explore each others’ works, without the constraints of ‘the industry’ telling them what was and was not appropriate. It would seem that a large portion of the overhead lighting wasn’t completely functional, but no one seemed to mind too much.

‘DIY’ or ‘do-it-yourself’ culture has recently found a significant foothold among the 30-and-younger crowd, as evidenced by such sites as Etsy and the vast collection of artists who choose self-publishing as a viable option for dispersing their artworks to the world. Xeroxed copies of small, hand-stapled books weren’t an uncommon sight, whereas that kind of presentation would have once been viewed as unprofessional. Now, the xerox machine has become an integral part of ‘zine and comic culture, as it’s become abundantly clear that the insights that you find in a professionally published book are the same insights that can be found in a cheaply mass-produced work. DIY, at least in a material sense, sprung out of the need for economy, after all - the trendiness was just a coincidence that came along later.

Because of this, the variety of artists and approaches covered the entire scope of the comic industry. From artists who had a few small piles of photocopies, artists who’d handmade books on a printing press, artists who had books professionally bound and printed in color or black and white, and even artists who took the ‘comic’ format and stretched it to its limits by presenting piles of individual panels in small boxes, packaged with 45s, and even as original paintings. Some were published by indie labels, while others were simply there to share their own amateur (and often impressive) creations.

I had my own mission, though, and that was to once again get my Bizarro Comics book signed by Tom Hart, Nick Bertozzi and Jessica Abel, to add to my collection of artist signatures I’ve been accumulating since 2002. By the end of the convention, I’d found everyone but the elusive Tom Hart, and even had a great conversation with Mr. Bertozzi about Jack Kirby and the recent release of the second volume of the DC Archive Edition of Kamandi. With my recent appreciation of Jack Kirby just being explored in earnest, it was enlightening to see the invisible barrier between ‘hero’ comics and ‘indie’ comics being broken down, as they often exist in two very different worlds, and are not always at ease with each other. He signed my Bizarro book right next to his own drawing of Kamandi.

Jessica Abel didn’t seem quite as receptive to my appreciations, but added the seventh signature to my Bizarro book anyhow.

Other attendees included Gary Panter, who was recently profiled in Juxtapoz Magazine for his influence on current ‘pop surrealist’ art culture, as well as his role as designer on Pee-Wee’s Playhouse (which was integral in my mental development, probably to no surprise). On the other end of his row of tables was the seven year old daughter of Denis Kitchen (founder of the notable Kitchen Sink Press), Alexa, perhaps with the most elaborate display of all, including a banner heralding her arrival and title of ‘the youngest artist in comics!’, with stacks of pink books overwhelming the table around her, while she continued to draw and her mother looked on proudly. All of this convinced me to come home to my own seven year old niece, make her a pot of coffee and let her burn through a ream of printer paper at high speeds… though this is something that she does fairly regularly anyhow without the aid of caffeine or goading. Coffee would probably blur her to a white-hot light speed from which we’d never recover.

Interestingly, there were a few artists who normally attend the Big Apple Comic Con who opted to lend their support to the MOCCA Fest instead this year, since odd planning had both events on the same days. I can see this as an active support towards the ‘art’ side of things over the ‘industry’ side, so Kyle Baker and Evan Dorkin be praised. You guys made the right choice.

Also of note was Dr. Cube from Kaiju Big Battel, a being of unspeakable evil and megalomania. From behind his table, he grasped at my friend’s complimentary Wizard Magazine and tore it open in order to sign it. When he handed it back to my friend, it read ‘Wizard Magazine is for sucker MCs! Dr. Cube!’. Shortly after that, he snatched someone’s water bottle and wrote ‘WATER!’ on it, and it all became clear. Dr. Cube and Los Plantanos were the only costumed folks at MOCCA. This was a good thing.

The MOCCA Fest spread through four or five ballrooms on the first floor, as well as a large room on the seventh floor. Table spacing was fair, and allowed foot traffic easy passage, which was a bonus as I have limited patience for crowded convention floors. As the day wore on a bit, the ballrooms filled up to ‘crowded’ levels, but the mood remained calm and unfrustrated - which is not something that can be said for the purely ‘BUY AND SELL’ atmosphere of the traditional comic convention.

Another added bonus? Art chicks are HOT. Unfailingly. So… there’s that, too.

By the end of the day, I’d spend $200 in limited edition, small run books, original paintings and records. As I purchased them, I had the opportunity to talk to an inspiring collection of genuine artists, half of whom seemed a bit surprised that I wanted them to sign their works for me, unpretentious and unassuming as most of them were. Stay tuned for an exploration of just what $200 in small press books looks like.