So as a good chunk of you probably already know (unless you are a random internet person who cannot see all my locked posts, in which case, hello random internet person!), I've been working on a webcomic with crows
for a little over a year now. And today, with very small fanfare, we actually launched it.
It's over at Mortal Machine dot com
. The stuff that's going up right now is the first book, One For Silence.
I'm really excited about it. We've been working on it for awhile now, and it's good to see something start to come of it, though we've got a loooong way to go, in both promoting the project and drumming up some support as well as all the extras we've got planned (right now the site is really
barebones) and even just in terms of how long the planned story is.
That long way to go is the point of this post, though. Because in addition to being excited that finally, something is slowly coming of my creative projects, there's also this sort of knot of anxiety and terror about putting something out into the world. What if nobody cares? What if people read it all wrong? What if they laugh at us for the effort?
Here's the thing: that fear is hindering.
No, the art isn't as up to par as I wish it could be. The thing is, even in the ten or so pages we do have done, I've seen a noticeable difference in the quality of our art, in how we understand the way these characters look and move and exist. And, just in general, how anatomy works, and to some extent perspective. And like I said before, we've got a long way to go. We'll get there. A creator's brain is always years ahead of their ability anyway, and it is entirely possible that we have years to go on this. Which, when I think about it in terms of time to grow and learn and prove to myself that yes, I can do this, isn't quite as daunting as it might seem.
There are things about these characters that I'm sure people will take issue with. I may end up accidentally beating people over the head with the aspects of Rowan's character that I think are important to showcase. I might end up too subtle with them, so that people miss them entirely. We might accidentally skip over crucial information in the plot, or it might end up being a little too meandery, despite our editing efforts. The script for this hasn't actually been seen by anyone except us, which is also a little scary. Hell, we're still writing the script
right now -- we're about halfway done with the first book -- even as we're drawing the pages and even as the comic's live.
But the thing is, if we let all this stuff stop us, we'd never get anywhere. It might be another year before we got done with the script, and then another five or so before we had everything drawn to exacting standards. Waiting until you're good enough is a damn good way to never do anything at all, as my twenty-some years has taught me. Yes, all this might be some big damn mistake, as my Internal Anxious Sixteen Year Old is screaming at me. But this might also turn out to be awesome and wonderful. And even if it doesn't, it's at least an experience, one that I'm sure we're going to fuck up here and there, and one that I'm absolutely sure we'll learn from.
And given that there's another project after this waiting in the wings (as well as my other collaboration and my umpteen billion personal projects), even if all we get is a learning experience, my life's gonna be richer for it. I just have to remember that in order to get the experience, I have to do the thing in the first place.
All that being said, I'm still hoping for the awesome. And hope that y'all will be on board for the awesome, too. <3