"The White Paint Plastic Saints"

I had a bizarre dream last night, and now you have to sit through me talking about it.

In the dream, I was a famous cartoonist. There was some big thing on the internet, a sort of exposition rather like the World's Fairs of old, and I was one of fifteen people involved in it as a representative of comics. I was, well, famous.

I woke up smiling from that dream...the fact that I was quickly frowning soon after has nothing to do with the dream and everything to do with the realization that I had to get out of bed immediately or risk being late to work.

For as long as I can remember, I've wanted to be famous, or at least moderately well known. Doesn't really matter for what--comics, music, writing, being the first documented example of spontaneous combustion due to sexual frustration and the friction inherent therein--the reason behind the fame (or infamy, as it may be) is of little consequence. I just like the idea that someday, I could open up my email inbox and see an email from a random person. The email will read something like: "Hey, saw your comic/mp3/short story, really liked it. Keep up the good work." It doesn't have to be glowing praise. It doesn't have to exalt my name to the Heavens. I just want recognition from someone I don't know. It's not that my friends or family telling me they like the comic isn't good enough for me, it's just that in a way, they're almost obligated to like my comic (it's like telling your girlfriend you like her cooking, even if she can't cook). This isn't to say they are obligated, just that they're more inclined to sugarcoat things (well, most of my friends are, anyway) and less likely to give you an honest, unbiased opinion. Complete strangers, who don't know me and thus are not at all worried about hurting my feelings, can often give a much more honest and critical (in the objective sense of the word, not the "this sucks" sense of it) examination. I think.

I was actually discussing with Adam the other day ways in which we could get a larger readership over at Dim Bulb. There are several ways--doing guest art for more established comics, paying for advertising (cost prohibitive for both of us, he because he has a fiancee, me because I'm a grad student, which is like being engaged in terms of time spent with it and the amount of money and effort I sink into it), doing link exchanges with other comics (such as we did with The Jaded), getting picked up by Keenspot, Keenspace's big brother, or begging for links from bigger comics. None of them is particularly effective, and we're not likely to increase our demographic by simply cranking out strip after strip and waiting for our audience to find us. So how do we do it? Will we? Or will Dim Bulb remain a small labor of love until one or both of us finally loses interest? Hard to say. I'd like to say that I'll keep drawing the comics whether anyone reads them or not, that I'm not in this to become famous or to even make any money off the comic (something which I've always doubted the serious possibility of anyway). But if push came to shove, and something had to give, would the comic be it? I really hope not. Crooked Halo is an outlet for me, a sort of cathartic release which allows me to blow off steam over the crap that's bothering me (usually dealing with stupid people or with grad school stuff), and I feel I really need that release. The comic is a forum for me to air my grievances with the world in general and with myself specifically, a place where I can examine humanity by examining my own issues and hang ups. I like to think that Crooked Halo and Dim Bulb will be around for a long time, that we'll build up a cult following and a strong core readership and eventually become well-known.

Regardless, I don't plan on quitting any time soon, which probably annoys at least a couple of people. And that's fine by me--one of the other goals of the comic is to annoy, pester, and otherwise antagonize folks.

~chaos cricket

Song of the Moment: David Bowie, "Fame"