Last weekend I received feedback from my editor, A, finally completing the second of a two part alpha reading stage- allowing me now the comfort to feel I've reached far along enough that I can start talking about the thing. The writing thing.

I wasn't sure how to document the Writing Stage of Alexander Comic (or my graphic novels in general). It's not as instant, fast or natural as the rest of the graphic novel making process, when it's just me reading or sketching or drawing, and I can just post a screenshot/photo accompanied with a quip. You can't really show much with writing; only the end result. Additionally, I have this superstitious belief that the period of making a story come to life should be treated as sacred, private, personal. Talking too much about the writing while you're supposed to be doing the work is an invitation for a jinx, or at least... it invites said jinx to me.

If there was a hill I'd die on, it'd be called Craft. It's something that occupies my thoughts, more than most things. That's evident by the existence of this blog: I'm always writing and thinking about my experiences in the world (as a person, as an artist) and how they feed into my creative practice.

But I hardly ever talk about creative craft as its own thing. There are reasons why. Partly because the soundbyte diet of social media doesn't fit my style of ruminating (I don't make zingers; I go on and on and on...) and partly because if you do try to soundbyte anything that approaches advice, it'll be poorly-received even if it goes viral, because a 280 character limit makes every word sound like a rule of law. Plus the online art environment has shifted dramatically.

And I don't adhere to the popular idea of what craft should be to an Artist or Writer anyway. Not in a Too Cool way. It just so happens.

Some thoughts on making things exist. The joy and fear of it all. A sequel to this post on Passion and Work and Adulthood.