And speaking of naked (in my last post), I found out this week that I am one of five finalists for the 2nd Annual Naked Girls Reading Literary Honors!
The lovely naked ladies of the Everleigh Club in Chicago will be reading the five selections on November 18, and then they will announce the winner. (You can read excerpts from each finalist here.)
I’ll be sure to post more information when I read it. I hope to see some of you there!
I began this post when a Kickstarter backer asked if Sticks and Bones was a comic or a graphic novel. It was a good question, and I set off to discuss the differences between the two.
Both comics and graphic novels are sequential art. In Comics and Sequential Art (1985) Will Eisner describes sequential art as “the arrangement of pictures or images and words to narrate a story or dramatize an idea.”
As a lover of the form, but someone just beginning to dip her toes in the process of creating comics, I turned to books and the internet for definitions of “comic books” and “graphic novels.” Who better to consult than those creators and artists who have shaped and redefined the industry?
While doing research, I discovered an interested phenomenon. The distinction between comics and graphic novels seems to be most often made by those outside the industry. Many comic creators and artists seem comfortable to classify all sequential art under the category of comics.
“It’s a marketing term… that I never had any sympathy with. The term ‘comic’ does just as well for me… The problem is that ‘graphic novel’ just came to mean ‘expensive comic book’ and so what you’d get is people like DC Comics or Marvel Comics—because ‘graphic novels’ were getting some attention, they’d stick six issues of whatever worthless piece of crap they happened to be publishing lately under a glossy cover and call it The She-Hulk Graphic Novel….” (Alan Moore, “The Alan Moore Interview: Northampton / Graphic novel”. Blather.net. October 17, 2000).
If I had to try and explain the difference, I would say that a graphic novel is a longer narrative work (like a novel) revealed by sequential art instead of words alone. It has a beginning, middle, and end crafted with a story arc that is the convention in most novels or plays (exposition, rising action, climax, falling action, and resolution). Its length seems to average between 60 and 120 pages.
A comic is usually smaller in scale, 20-24 pages bound with saddle-stitching. Within those pages, most comics also have that same narrative structure. Serial in nature, the story also continues from comic to comic. Collections of comics are sometimes grouped together and published as graphic novels.
Again, the distinction is subjective, it seems to be a matter of perspective and preference. I kept thinking of the Robert Graves poem, “The Naked And The Nude,” where the narrator contrasts the two words (naked and nude), coyly commenting on semantics and playing with the connotations of two synonyms.
Is “comic” a dirty word in literary circles?
Comic books and graphic novels are earning more respect and critical academic consideration than ever before, but for decades they were considered “low art,” in contrast to “higher art” forms like literature or the fine arts. Essays and dissertations have been written on this evolution and distinction by scholars (you can google it, there is so much out there). There is also an International Comic Arts Forum, a Comic Book Legal Defense Fund, and some universities have added Comic Arts or Comic Studies to their curriculum.
Attitudes seems to be changing, and yet when I mentioned that I was writing a comic, the response was tepid to negative from some of my more literary associates: Why would I want to do that? How would it reflect on me as a writer? Wouldn’t it be a waste of my time?
I believe that the story dictates the form. As a writer, one of my tasks is to choose the right one: some stories work best as novels, some as flash fiction, some as plays, others as comics.
With Sticks and Bones, Madeline and I hope to create four comics that can someday be collected and published together. In the meantime, the first issue: Home Is Where the Hearth Is, will stand alone. It’s a short story told using sequential arts. It’s a comic book.
I’m proud of the story, and I’m thrilled by the depth that artist Madeline C. Matz brings to it with her beautiful art. I’m also excited to slip into the back of a continuum of writers whom I respect that tell poignant stories using the comic book form.
I hope that you enjoy Home Is Where the Hearth Is. There are 9 more days to pre-order your copy and spread the word!
“I arise in the morning torn between a desire to improve the world and a desire to enjoy the world. This makes it hard to plan the day.”
E. B. White
Rainy Monday morning with German coffee in my Frankfurt mug and a feeling of wanderlust hanging in the Autumn air. Last week was busy, full of wonderful people and events. I feel grateful for the time, but also slightly overwhelmed at how much I have to catch up.
On Thursday I attended a “New Members” dinner at the Cliff Dwellers Club in downtown Chicago. I was selected to be one of the Artists-in-Residence for the 2011-2012 year, along with Don Evans (Executive Director for the Chicago Literary Hall of Fame) and the members of the Ravenswood Opera.
The Cliff Dweller’s Club was founded in 1907 by Chicago author Hamlin Garland, first called the Attic Club then re-named the Cliff Dwellers two years later. The founders envisioned it as an organization for those who are engaged in and those who support the Arts. (For more history, click here.)
Mark and I enjoyed the view of the lake and the Art Institute, were served a wonderful meal, and had conversations with many of the members. I wish I remembered to take photos, but I was swept up in the conversations.
It was exciting for me to see an Arts organization that has lasted over a hundred years, and it struck a chord because of my own attempts to cultivate creative collaboration and support with our monthly Coop gatherings. Perhaps the two worlds will collide? (Who am I kidding, if I have any say they will certainly collide.)
Then Friday we were off to Delavan, Wisconsin for the weekend wedding of dear friends. My parents watched the kids, and Mark and I stayed at the Allyn Mansion, a magnificent Victorian that was restored with the greatest of care and attention to detail over 18 years by my friend’s father and his partner. The mansion received the National Trust for Historic Preservation’s Great American Home Awards grand prize for its “meticulous and thorough restoration.”
Even in such a massive mansion, we felt instantly at home. The wedding was so much fun, and Mark and I appreciated it after the last few weeks.
Many more photos of the house exist online here.
The mansion was majestic, the tent outside was elegant, the groom charming, the bride beautiful, and the company warm and welcoming. Plus there was wine. Lovely wine!
With some people I met, I felt like I had known them in another lifetime. Meeting them was like recognizing an old friend. I love that feeling. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, it’s a gift. Even if our paths lead away in opposite directions, at least we had the chance to cross once and maybe again.
We returned home yesterday in time for a birthday dinner with family who came in from Colorado, and then home to put the kids to bed.
Many of my conversations over the weekend were about travel and beloved places in Europe. I’m feeling the itch; it’s time to plan something. But before that, there’s business and paperwork and kickstarter and art projects and writing and secret collaborations…so back to work I go!