What the Beastie Boys taught me about making Comic Books

In 1989, I was a regular MTV watcher and remember seeing an interview with the Beastie Boys. They were promoting their upcoming album, Paul's Boutique, and explaining where they had been for the past two years. "We spent a long time emerging from the studio." I was 14 then and thought it sounded like the most pretentious BS I ever heard. I also assumed License to Ill was a one-hit wonder, and the new album would suck (there's a reason I'm not a music critic).

It may have taken me a few decades, but I finally understand what they meant about "emerging from the studio."

Every creative endeavor has two components: the "making the thing" phase and the "introducing the thing to an audience" phase. This may be boastful or delusional, but I feel confident in my abilities to "make the thing."

When it comes to the "introducing the thing to an audience" phase? I'll be the first to admit I've lost a step. I've been an internal homebody since the pandemic hit, and it doesn't help that I equate social media with a visit to Chornobyl; I want to get in and out before the environment makes me sick.

Clearly, I’ve been inside the studio (and my head) for too long.

To combat this, I lined up a series of convention appearances to force me out of my comfort zone and sharpen my sales chops. I’m going to new cities and putting myself in front of what marketers might describe as “cold audiences.”

I was in Denver last month for the Fan Expo, and…what a fantastic experience. I forgot how fast a mini-community can establish itself at these events; your neighbors and peers essentially form a pop-up town for a few days. You want it to last forever.

I had rollicking conversations, made new friends, met some future collaborators, and generally had a great time celebrating the art form I love. And I nearly sold out of all the books I brought, proving I might not be as bad of a salesman as I thought.

Sometimes, just showing up is the hardest part.

If you are in Portland, Baltimore, Tacoma, or San Francisco, I am coming to town to talk to you. Yes, you! You can start by telling me how wrong I was about Paul's Boutique.

“So the lights are flashing, my mind is spinning. I feel like it is always the beginning…”