By Adam J. Bartholomay
Don’t lie to yourself: You’ve got a story idea floating around in that noggin of yours. Maybe you’d thought about trying to make it into a movie, but then thought, “No, that’s too expensive and complicated, and I don’t really want to go to the trouble of collaborating with the number of people it would require.” Surely, then, your thoughts turned to the written word, only to dismiss it at the realization that you don’t possess the descriptive faculties to properly paint the pictures in your psyche with prominently persuasive prose. Also, maybe your alliterative skills are so lacking that you just stuck a word with a silent “P” into that last sentence.
Well, have I got some news for you: Comic Book Club exists, so you can take all those people, places, and the terrible things that happen to them, out of your head and put them onto a printed page.
You know how to draw. You do it on every school paper you’ve ever gotten. The professor’s giving a lecture you should really be taking notes on? Be honest, that’s always been a GREAT time to doodle some anime faces. This is your opportunity to ensure that those low test scores weren’t in vain.
“But Adam,” I imagine you saying in a hypothetical conversation that will probably never happen, “What if none of what you just said applies to me at all and I have no interest in comics whatsoever?” Then clearly, this article isn’t for you and you don’t need me to tell you that. I don’t know why you’re even bringing this up. What’s wrong with you?
As for the rest of you (if there are no more INTERRUPTIONS), it may be that the biggest roadblock you’ve encountered to manifesting this grand work of fiction you’ve mentally conjured is a lack of confidence in your ability to convey it. I won’t lie: When you start doing this, your work is going to be well below where you’ve likely set your own standards. The desire to keep it all in your head until you feel like your skills match what you envision is always going to be there, but the simple truth is that you won’t reach that point unless you just do the thing.
Get into the practice of doing the thing. Commit yourself to the thing. Give yourself deadlines for the thing. The more you do it, the easier it gets. The more familiar you are with what you’re doing, the happier you’ll be with the results you’re seeing.
That’s really what the benefit of Comic Book Club is: It sets a goal directly in front of you. If you can pass that finish line and get your work published in The Beacon’s last issue of the semester, you can start setting higher goals for yourself. You can upload your comic online and keep it going on a schedule. You can divide by zero. You can wear white after Labor Day (though isn’t every day that isn’t Labor Day or before the first Labor Day there ever was technically after Labor Day?). The possibilities are… admittedly more finite than I’m letting on here, but they’re still pretty great.