Getting Away with Murder: A Comic Book Kickstarter

I can’t say I had it tough growing up. At least, not in an outward way that would make sense of the heroin cravings and passionate strangulation of “Getting Away with Murder: A Lowlife Story”.

For me, the mental maelstrom and cynicism I experience daily is what shapes my characters. This inner struggle reacting to an outside force is where my stories start. The chaos and constant fight of addiction and the overwhelming corrosive force of guilt are the internal struggles of the nameless main character in, “Getting Away with Murder: A Lowlife Story”.

Back when I was more of a musician, playing shows all around New York, my band had played a show at this lounge in Brooklyn. The lounge has since closed down and at the time it was not thriving with activity. But when you walked in there was a huge empty floor with a couple pillars disrupting the view across the lounge. There was a stage that was painted the same matte black that coated the whole interior of the building and just past it was a hallway to a couple dressing rooms. There were three acts playing that night and only two dressing rooms. We were first to arrive so we put some of our equipment in one of the dressing rooms thinking ourselves grand that we had as large a room to occupy before going on.

However, as the other acts showed, we were relegated to the hallway, letting the “bigger” acts have the preparatory space. I remember having forgotten a piece of equipment in our former dressing room. I opened the door while knocking, not expecting anyone to be naked but instead seeing the 12-piece band, the headliner that night, all turn to look at me, aghast that someone should walk in. The lead singer was hunched over in front of the makeup mirror, the kind with the clear bauble bulbs so bright you don’t see a crevice in your skin, with a line of coke just below his nose. Their brief look of fear quickly changed to anger. Who the hell was I and all that nonsense.

But really, who the hell were they? We were, all of us, nobodies.

Our story, “Getting Away with Murder: A Lowlife Story” came somehow and somewhere from that idea. The main character, a rocker who had a brush with money and fame, now forced to live a middle class life not only addicted to heroin but addicted to the thrill of playing. He thirsts for the old days of people cheering for him, of having “rock star privileges”, and the parties where he’s the focal point. He’s on the downslide of stardom, plummeting toward being a nobody and it’s the most painful thing. Also, he just killed his ex-groupie.

Two MoCCAs ago, I was walking the floor when I met MJ Steele (MJ's Site). He had an 11” x 14” inked drawing of Kurt Cobain mid-air playing his lefty fender strat in a warehouse to a silhouetted crowd, the Seattle Space Needle seen through one of the warehouse windows. No doubt about it, I had found the artist to help me tell this story. 

MJ’s style could be compared to more known talents like Sean Murphy or Rafael Albuquerque. Could be. If I were forced to make the comparison. The reality is, he draws inspiration from those artists while still maintaining his own unique style. He’s a balance of precision and broad strokes. Sharp black lines meeting swooping water colors. MJ studies illustration and cartooning at the School of Visual Arts.

Once MJ started churning out fully inked and beautiful pages, we need a letterer. We were lucky my brother, Thomas Griffin (Tom's Art), who can do any part of comic work artfully and skillfully, stepped in. He lettered the pages without the black outlines typically seen on word bubbles and captions. This let the bubbles fit MJs artwork without the obvious outside source that can sometimes disconnect the words from the pictures.

Currently, we’ve started a Kickstarter campaign to help us raise the funds and some buzz for this one-shot comic. Check it out at this link:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/583569168/getting-away-with-murder-a-lowlife-story

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Article by Sean Griffin. Sean is a writer and co-founder of Gryphon Knights Comics. He currently writes the comic book "Hero" for GK and is studying Creative Writing for his MFA at Manhattanville College.

SASB: Death of the Superfan: Part 1

You haven't been back home in a while. You moved out to the city for work and have gotten used to the Thai food, the busyness, and a new local comic shop where you make regular visits for the latest "Saga" and "Resident Alien." But now because your little sister graduated, you're in your hometown, and decided to check out the comic store that's near your parents' house. You stand outside and you recall what your first time here was like...

You had the hawkish owner/ manager (you're still not clear) who greeted you at the door. He wore glasses, a tucked-in, checkered, collar shirt and seemed like he wouldn't want to answer you're stupid questions. Scattered throughout the store  are isolated men, with the exception of the two engaged in a conversation over Warren Ellis's Planetary and a young couple, perhaps just really close friends, pawing and laughing over the latest X-men.

 And then there was Paul.

You mustered up the courage, and asked the manager where you can find the Doom Patrol comics. You were right; the manager didn't feel like answering you question, especially since he doesn't know what you are talking about. You started to describe it explaining that they were a team like the X-Men with a guy in wheelchair, similar to Professor X. 

"Actually, the Doom Patrol came before the X-Men, So really Professor X is like Niles Caulder, your "wheelchair guy." says Paul glancing up at you intently. His angry eyes above his hair filled cheeks, daring you to challenge his knowledge,

"Doom Patrol started in My Greatest Adventure #80, in June 1963, and X-Men started in September 1963," he continued unsolicited. "You shouldn't be reading it if you don't know about it..."

...

You enter the old, disheveled shop from that memory and you trip over something. You turn around and to your horror, it's the body of Paul, the former resident expert, with blood and  self-significance pouring out of an open wound.

Who? Who could have done this, you think, your mind quickly races towards the list of suspects.

To be continued... 

POOR PAUL!

Dimitrios Fragiskatos is an irate Greek who enjoys prodding speculators. You can read his work on titles like Greasers in Greece or Greasers in Geese, and his new series he has a bunch of artists locked in a room working on called Frankenstein vs. Dracula.

Keeping Your Soul in Creating, Part 1: Comics

            There has always been one taboo in the art community, a taboo that is universally criticized, and longed for; "Selling out." No one wants to be a sell out, but to continue to support a career of creativity, and live comfortably its often the direction one has to take. Selling out usually involves an artist trading off a creative property or properties for their monetary benefit, and usually losing partial or all control over that property. The stereotypical opinion in taking this action is that the property lore can be watered down its story can be twisted and characters can become diluted or warped by its new owners. While this has happened, and I feel is evident in film or remakes like the Great Gatsby it is not always the case. With the rise of the webcomic and crowdfunding there are more individual contributors and fewer middle-men with overarching creative and financial control over artistic ventures. So is "selling out" going the way of the dinosaur?

            I've been given a chance to do a quick Q&A with Vas Littlecrow on her thoughts about this topic, whether its good, bad, or if there is some middle ground. Vas is an out-of-the-box thinker, and underground supporter of the indie artist and webcomic community, who is heavily inspired by Russian culture and history. She created a multimedia comic-based arts collective, which started in 2006 with the launch of her webcomic called Rasputin Catamite (*WARNING This comic contains. content that is not suitible for all audiences & may be NSFW*) The book is a dark comedy that takes place during the fall of the Soviet Union. One of her comrades and collaborators is Ram Lama, whose webcomic, Dark River, I've reviewed in a previous blog post.

Q: Tell us more about your company?

There is no company, actually. I don't do corporate. The idea of giving life to an artificial entity whose sole purpose is to make profit at the expense of everything else, including human life, offends me. The non-profit corporate structure also strikes me as problematic, so I avoid that as well. This is why I run a sole proprietorship known as VAS Littlecrow. Velvet Rasputin is merely its most visible department.

Q: Tell us more about your Velvet Rasputin; what was your mission statement at the start? Has it evolved at all since then?

Originally it was, "FUCK ART!" I mostly have an adversarial attitude towards mainstream art, its mindless slavery to fashion, its rejection of historical curiosity, and its ridiculous snobbery. I still do. Over time, I modified Velvet Rasputin's mission statement to say, "We battle against evil empires through the power of intellectual and spiritual curiosity." It means the same thing, but in a more passive aggressive sort of way. Apparently, its easier to get art funding, if you pretend to give a shit about other people's opinion while avoiding swear words.

Q: Could you go into detail about your current projects and the artwork you are creating.

Right now, the biggest priority for me is Rasputin Catamite since, the Aston/Nicholls studio kindly took over Rasputin Barxotka for the time being. 

Rasputin Catamite is a multidisciplinary project, cleverly disguised as a webcomic. Rasputin Catamite started out as an inside joke about Napoleon Dynamite between project alumna, Caylie Dean, and I. It was supposed to be a throwaway seven-day spin-off from one of my print comics. To everyone's surprise, it has grown into so much more.

Rasputin Catamite is mostly a metaphorical autobiography mashed up with my concerns about the world. Everything actually represents something else, but still comes across as a straightforward dark comedy about young Russian misfits growing up during the death throes of the Soviet Union. The story is meticulously crafted to make the reader feel the emotions that inspired a lot of the imagery, so it's an uncomfortable story by design. I am the creative director and lead writer for the project. Ram is the lead artist for the comic. Studio A.d.H.D heads special projects. Loki Kaspari works behind the scenes as the editor. There is a musical element known as Upir's Mark featuring fellow songwriter, slaveboy thom s.R. wolfox, fellow musician, Narphy La Mancha, with a little assistance from Thibault Kervarech. Flavin works as the current puppetmaster, and is preparing for the day when we will be able to tour as a stage entity once again. It's not happening anytime soon, but it will happen. The end game will be an animated horror musical, if the best case scenario decides to materialize.  If not, we'll have a beautiful glorified storyboard with a neat soundtrack.

Q: What does selling out mean to you?

The willingness to compromise on one's creative vision when dealing with a personally meaningful project. It is also the idea that one has to be a slave to artistic fashion, or violate one's own principles, in order to be a "real" artist. It has nothing to do with money for me. A sell out creates art that speaks to a focus group. An artist bares the soul, money or not, but the creations are better when starvation is not involved.

As a former punk who is still a musician, I have no shame in admitting that Henry Rollins had a huge influence on me regarding this philosophy of creative integrity.

Q: Have you ever sold an artistic work and regretted it?

No. Art is more useful feeding me and the crew while bringing someone else joy, than sitting in my studio. Physical possessions are less important than the happiness of human beings. The moment you elevate art above humanity, is the moment you start to lose sight of why art matters to the human condition.

Q: In social media discussions you seem to be averse to giving up your intellectual property for a profit. Why is that?

I have absolutely no problem giving up my intellectual property for a profit at all.  If someone paid me $40,000,000 for Rasputin Catamite right now, I will conclude it, make the movie my way, turn the rights over to its new owners and split the profits among all the project participants based upon their involvement. With the remaining proceeds, then I will reinvest a considerable portion of it, and create something even more ambitious and personally meaningful. 

The price I ask for art depends on how attached I am to project, and how much a client is willing to pay me. Hell, if I make a caricature at an art festival, I will sell that intellectual property for $25.00 along with the paper it was drawn on, because it's not worth anything to me. If you don't share your art, it's completely useless as art. As slaveboy thom once told me, "How could someone be an artist if  the art isn't shown to anyone?" If people are willing to pay for you undiluted vision, that's the ultimate compliment

What I have a problem with is people being ripped-off by intellectual property poachers and opportunists who promise the universe and only deliver residuals, if anything at all. Product and money should never matter more than people, and if you are going to demand someone else's creative control, the least you can do is be honest about it. This is why I stopped using student interns. It made me sick to stomach when looked at myself in the mirror to know that I was exploiting people in such a way. It's immoral to me. 

At this time, the team isn't paid as well as I'd like them to be, but what I promise them is exactly what they get. The only time I don't pay, is if someone volunteers to help without me asking for it. I accept such a donation as a gift and an honor.

Q: Is there any point you would sell a creation of yours?

You can go to the Amazon.com Kindle Shop right now and buy eBooks based on my properties, at this very moment. I used to be a graphic designer and a caricature artist, so I did it all the time. Selling my creations is what helped me escape prostitution and starvation when I hit rock bottom.  I still have abstract art prints and fabric designs available for sale all over the place online.  Even an idea can be worth money. Just because I don't sell out, I doesn't mean that I won't sell. I wouldn't be where I am today if I didn't.

Q: Have you ever created something as a product solely to sell, that you weren't very attached to?

Since age eight, and I haven't really stopped since. I don't get attached to finished art. This is why I burn most of my sketches.

Q: Do you think anything is lost when a person gives up partial or complete creative rights to their property to a larger entity or institution?

Control of the vision. Nothing more, and nothing less. If you have a great contract, solid people and, sufficient compensation, the process of selling creative rights feels downright painless to me.  

Having said that, the same is true for individuals and small entities. In fact, some of the egregious and spectacular screw overs that I've ever experienced in my life in regards to the arts, happened because I split project copyrights with collaborators. As a result, I do not share intellectual property rights for my comics anymore, unless it's a crossover project. My collaborators may have my comic characters and stories over my cold dead body, which is why I am contractually obligated to keep them named in my will.

Q: Is there ever a point where giving up an artistic piece is beneficial or necessary for the creator?

Yes. When it feels right, and the other party is honest about their intentions.

Q: Do you value any project over another?

If it wears the Velvet Rasputin label, it's probably my baby and very special.  All Velvet Rasputin projects are interconnected.

Q: How have webcomics changed the comics scene, in your opinion?

It has obliterated practically all entry barriers to publishing comics.  As a content delivery method, the Internet is absolutely great.  It truly made comics a lot more diverse and interesting. It's especially wonderful for underground stuff.  I love it.  Unfortunately, the indie comics community has gotten a lot more competitive and less like a community, and there are a lot more sub-niches than ever before. Comic conventions now are more like pop-culture promotion events. It's very different than it was back in the late 80's and 90's, and I am not sure that I get it all that well. That's why I am semi-retired now.

Q: Mainstream companies have tried to revolutionize comics numerous times, with digital comic; moving comics, which are similar to the Marvel cartoons of the 60's and having mobile smart phones which can interact with the comic to expand the story. Do you think any of these are truly innovative? What do you think the next revolution of comics will be?

The future of comics are gaming, movies and videos. These formats are better suited for mobile devices the represent the future of computing. If Marvel had not had such spectacular success with blockbusters in the last few years, print comics would already be extinct as a form of mass entertainment. Ad-based webcomics have pretty much self-destroyed as an economic engine, for the most part, even if they aren't going anywhere. If it weren't for crowdsourcing and patronage, almost no one would be making money on webcomics at all. Comics are a semi-obsolete technology, but one that is full of historical significance and accessibility for those who don't have the resources to engage in other creative disciplines. As comic artists we should shift our focus away from the newest gimmick to keep comics relevant, and towards the long-term preservation of the art form and its role as a social muse. A world without comics would be a very sad one, and I think that we need to teach young people that this art form is worthy of existing for generations to come.