A THOUSAND FLOWERSComics, Pop Culture, and the World OutsideInstallment 30by Stuart Moore
The Books of Heaven, the Comics of Hell: The Graphic Novel in America
At least four times, the original graphic novel has been poised to become a vital part of the U.S. comics scene: 1968-71, 1976-78, the late ‘80s…and right now. The fourth time might be the charm -- but the old 22-page comic book still has some strong advantages. Let’s take a quick look at the history of the graphic novel to see why…
It’s easy to see why writers champion the graphic novel. It’s very liberating to be able to craft a lengthy narrative and let the tension points fall where they may, instead of having to break the flow every 22 pages. But there are two reasons why the graphic novel format hasn’t taken over, despite some pretty zealous proponents.
The first drawback is visibility. This is more of a problem for the artist than for the writer, because generally speaking, comics take a lot longer to draw than they take to write. That means that, for some artists, doing a stand-alone graphic novel can take them out of the marketplace entirely for six months to a year.
The usual response to this is: It doesn’t hurt novelists, or film directors. And that’s true. But a large chunk of the comics audience is still accustomed to seeing Mark Bagley on
Ultimate Spider-Man once a month (or more). An artist can hurt his career by not maintaining a constant presence on the racks.
Still, that’s changing, and it may not matter much in a few years. The other problem is stickier: economics.
By the late ‘60s, comic books -- Marvel and the undergrounds, in particular -- had seeped into the mass youth movement, becoming a vital part of the counterculture. (The Silver Surfer had a whole second career on black light posters.) For years, mass market paperback publishers had done well with comic strip collections; now they started branching out into other types of comics material as well.
Vaughn Bode did interesting work in this format, some of it originally produced for men’s and science fiction magazines. But the most ambitious proponent of mass graphic novels was Gil Kane. Kane combined a commercial sensibility with a desire to break out of the limited, child-oriented genres of contemporary comics.

In 1968, Kane plotted, drew, and basically self-published
His Name is Savage, a violent crime book with script by Archie Goodwin. (It was reissued by Fantagraphics in the ‘80s, but appears to be out of print.) In a 1996
Comics Journal interview, Kane detailed his disastrous experience with the book’s distribution. Undaunted, he sold a sword-and-sorcery project,
Blackmark, to Bantam Books. But Bantam switched his deal around, offering him far less per book for an eight-book contract:
“They were paying me $3,500 a book. Can you imagine pencilling, inking, and writing a 120-page Bantam Book? …And once I got started on one, I would do 30 pages in one week. Then I’d have to knock off for a week or two to make some additional money.”
From Kane’s account, there’s no doubt that Bantam took advantage of him, and the deal fell apart after one book. But the low money hints at a basic problem with graphic-novel economics -- one we’ll get back to soon. And if the book had sold well, I’m pretty sure Bantam would have found a way to continue the program, either with Kane or without him.
(Digression: Comics people have a tendency to think of book publishing as a stable, dignified field. In truth, it’s a pretty small, desperate world. Most trade and mass market books lose money, and book publishers habitually pounce on any fad that might bring in a bit of cash. Right now, they’re all over manga -- and mark my words: Inside of eighteen months, they’ll have that little bookstore section so glutted that individual title sales will drop like a rock.)
The mass market paperback format (which Kane used for
Blackmark, though not
Savage) was always problematical because it’s just so damn small. Kane and Bode had tried to work within it, experimenting with one- and two-panel pages and odd arrangements of text and pictures. But
Blackmark reads oddly, like an illustrated book where the pictures staged a rebellion and took over. And
Bode’s Cartoon Concert, with its rigid balloon placement and single panel per page, gives the reader a strange sense of turning pages too quickly. The whole thing just never gelled.

As the ‘70s got underway, mass market publishers embraced a format they’d only experimented with earlier: reprints of larger-format comic books. But the publishers adapted the comics several ways, all seriously flawed. The Ballantine MAD comics reprints tipped the pages on their side, splitting each page into three. Most of the DC reprints involved chopping up the pages and printing one to three panels per page, which resulted in odd-shaped pages, lots of white space, variable lettering sizes, and, of course, the destruction of any integrity the original page-layout might have had. The Marvel books took the more drastic approach of shrinking the entire page down to 4” by 6 3/4” or so. This allowed them to fit a lot of material in a volume, but man, that lettering was small. The books looked like prototypes for the microfiche comics that came along soon after.
By the late ‘70s, publishers began experimenting with larger-format, more ambitious graphic novels, many of them packaged by Byron Preiss Visual Concepts. Preiss had pioneered some odd combinations of words and pictures, with more spirit than commercial success, in the mid-‘70s; his
Weird Heroes illustrated prose anthologies were fascinating books, his
Fiction Illustrated digest-format comics less artistically successful. Now he jumped into big graphic novels full-steam -- and so did
Heavy Metal and other players.
Howard Chaykin wrote and/or drew several volumes during this time, including
Empire (with sf writer Samuel R. Delany),
The Swords Of Heaven, The Flowers Of Hell (with Michael Moorcock), and his own assorted
Cody Starbuck projects. Archie Goodwin and Walter Simonson, meanwhile, produced a stylish adaptation of the first
Alein film, while Stephen Bissette, Rick Veitch, and Allan Asherman turned out a real oddity: a splattery adaptation of the Spielberg comedy flop
1941.
Baronet Books jumped in heavily, publishing Will Eisner’s
A Contract With God, sometimes cited as the first true American graphic novel. (It’s actually four novellas, but what the hell.) Chaykin painted a dense, ambitious illustrated version of Alfred Bester’s classic sf novel
The Stars My Destination, packaged by Byron Preiss. But Baronet only issued book one of a projected two volumes, leaving the second half unpublished until 1992. And, once again, graphic novels stalled. The books were beautifully produced and often read well, but the sales just weren’t there in the bookstore market.
But at the same time, the direct market was just finding its feet. In 1978, Eclipse Books published the original graphic novel
Sabre, by Don McGregor and Paul Gulacy, followed in 1980 by
Detectives, Inc. by McGregor and Marshall Rogers, and Steve Gerber & Gene Colan’s
Stewart The Rat. Unlike the genre-specific and movie-tie-in projects described above, these were new, original books by mainstream comics talent who’d outgrown the creative confines of Marvel and DC. Marvel started their own graphic novel line in the early ‘80s, beginning with a few Jim Starlin works. But the burgeoning direct market soon encouraged publishers to concentrate more on cheap, regular-format comic books.
A combination of factors -- most of them with names like Alan Moore and Frank Miller -- brought comics a higher profile in the late ‘80s. The book market once again jumped on board, eager for a new category to exploit. (As a junior editor at St. Martin’s Press, I was one of the exploiters, in my own little way.) But the bookstore chains -- WaldenBooks in particular -- jumped in too quickly, too deep, and wound up returning huge quantities of most books.
A lot of blame has been thrown around for the subsequent decline in graphic novel sales. As usual, a good bit of it was aimed at Marvel, which seemed to make very little distinction between the material they issued on comics form and the stuff that wound up in the larger 48- to 64-page size. (No offense to the creators, but
Super Boxers just didn’t warrant the format or the price.) But whether comics publishers poisoned the well or the market just wasn’t there, the book-buying public continued to ignore most comics material.
Today, graphic novels are once again coming to be seen as a viable mass-distribution commodity -- thanks to a combination of fan support, vocal activism by a group of writers, and a distribution system increasingly hostile to single-issue comics from small publishers. Two other factors are also contributing: a sort of critical-mass acceptance of comics by a new generation of media reviewers, and the current popularity of manga.

I’m happy that gns are now seen as a real publishing option, and I hope that market will continue to grow. But graphic novels are still in no danger of replacing regular comic books -- and the reason, as always, is economic. Here’s how it breaks down:
The biggest expense for a major-company comic book is creative -- writer, artist(s), colorist. It’s not unusual for a major comics company’s creative cost to add up to $600 per page. (Top creators can earn much, much more.) On a 22-page comic book, that’s a total of $13,200 -- a substantial sum. But on a 96-page graphic novel, it’s $57,600. And on a 150-page gn, it’s $90,000.
Before you spend a dime on production costs.
People say they prefer graphic novels -- but they don’t back it up with their dollars. If you, Magnum Comics, a direct market leader, solicit a 22-page comic book at $2.95, let’s say you’re going to get orders of about 30,000 copies on average. But if you solicit a 96-page graphic novel at $12.95, you’re going to get far fewer. Probably closer to 4,000 -- less, if name creators aren’t involved.
That means you -- Magnum Comics -- are getting a hell of a lot less return on your $57,600 than you would on your $13,200. And your $13,200 item has a second chance to earn its keep, as part of a trade paperback collection.
Why are the orders so much lower? Because you, as the publisher, are asking the retailers -- many of whom are cash-strapped -- to lay out a lot more money per copy. And since the direct market works on a nonreturnable basis, if a retailer is stuck with five copies of your GN, that’s $60 retail -- between $24 and $36 wholesale, depending on the retailer’s discount. If he’s stuck with five copies of the $2.95 comic, that’s only $14.75 retail, or six to nine bucks of the retailer’s money. There’s a big incentive there for them to cut gn orders to the bone.
Same thing on the reader’s side. $12.95 is a big chunk to lay out for a book. If a reader has heard good things about a creator or a project but is on the fence, he’s much more likely to spend three dollars for a taste and decide whether to continue from there.
Of course, that’s the direct market. There’s the potential to make a lot more money in bookstores. But as mentioned above, the bookstore market is far riskier to a publisher, because 100% of the product is returnable. If sales are high, everyone wins. But if they’re low, the only person eating all that page-rate money is the publisher.
(Retailers will argue that the publisher
should bear that risk, which is a longer and different discussion. I’m not arguing obligations right now; just pointing out how economic realities influence publishing decisions.)
To add insult to financial injury: You, Magnum Comics, have been paying the writer and (particularly) artists for months, so they can afford to live and finish the book. Without monthly serialization, you won’t see any of that money back until the entire, long volume is finished and published.

Of course, graphic novels -- like trade paperbacks, which we’ll get into next time -- can sell far more copies than their initial orders would indicate. They’re designed to be kept in print, and direct market retailers know it; that’s the other reason they order conservatively up front. If a gn sells out quickly, a savvy retailer will reorder it. But note the word “savvy.” Many retailers just won’t -- and given the huge number of new products screaming at them from the Diamond catalogue each month, it’s hard to blame them.
The economics are completely different for small publishers. Part of the reason is that the market for indy comics is just more trade-oriented. Indy orders tend to be proportionally higher for trades and gns than the larger companies’ -- while their single-issue orders are much lower.
But the main reason for the different business model is that small companies don’t pay big page rates, or advances, to their creative people. When their creators make substantial money -- which can happen -- it’s usually on the back end. For the publisher, this eliminates a big cash drain right up front, and makes the graphic novel a much more appealing format because the publisher takes in much more money per copy sold than on a comic book.
As a writer, I like working under both systems. In fact, if you’ll allow me another digression: One of the worst things you can do as a writer is to start thinking of the work you’re being paid most for as your best work. Sometimes the work that pays the least is your most experimental, personal, or challenging. If you cut yourself off from that, you’re missing out on some real opportunities to grow and change. The work you’re paid most for is the work someone else deems the most commercial -- nothing more, nothing less. That work
may be personal, experimental, or ground-breaking. But it isn’t necessarily so. And, occasionally, the work you’re paid less for today can pay off down the line.
Gil Kane understood that. Otherwise, he never would have taken time out from
Green Lantern to create
Blackmark.
Today, more and more creators have carved out niches as graphic novelists. Neil Gaiman is the biggest success story; he was a star comics writer first, then a bestselling novelist, and the result is the high sales of his new
Endless Nights volume. Will Eisner and Joe Kubert, two older artists, have achieved a certain success with serious-themed long-form works. Warren Ellis’s graphic novels seem to sell at least as well as his individual-comics works -- again, the hard-won product of his talent and his persistent efforts in an evolving marketplace.
No doubt this will be true of more writers and artists, as time goes on. And the rise of the hardcover as a format helps too: For a publisher, it means another way to earn his money back, and at a higher price-point to boot -- if, usually, in smaller quantities.
But for the major publishers, it still makes financial sense to release most first-run material as disposable single-issue comics. Then, down the line, to reprint worthy material in more durable trade paperback collections.
Which we’ll deal with next time. See how neatly one thing segues into the next? Almost like I planned it…
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Brief Bibliography
“Gil Kane: From 6 to 60,” THE COMICS JOURNAL, April 1995
Too many graphic novels to list
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Stuart Moore has been a writer, a comics editor for Vertigo and Marvel Knights, a kitchen worker, a book editor, and various other, less glamorous jobs. He has won the Will Eisner award for Best Editor 1996 and the Don Thompson Award for Favorite Editor 1999.
My current comics work: LONE #2, a new future-western series from Dark Horse/Rocket Comics, is on sale now. It’s drawn by Jerome Opena, this year’s Russ Manning Award-winner for best newcomer, and you can read the entire first issue, free, right now at
http://www.rocketcomics.net/download...diatype=ecomic . (If you get the solicitation page, just click the link labelled “e-comic.”)
Out in November: “Mo Money, Mo Bullets,” a twisted little story by me and John Lucas in the second issue of the new VAMPIRELLA magazine. That magazine also features a preview of my next project: GIANT ROBOT WARRIORS, a graphic novel drawn by Ryan (LUCIFER) Kelly, out in December from AiT/PlanetLar. More info on these and other upcoming projects at:
http://www.newsarama.com/forums/show...&threadid=6208 and
http://www.silverbulletcomicbooks.co...4489322456.htm .