Jan. 17th, 2010

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So, while browsing Twitter with a massive headache yesterday, I came across this interview with Skin Deep creator Kory Bing. (Side note: If you don't already read Skin Deep, I highly recommend it. The art and writing are both good, it's madly creative, and it's probably one of the best long-form comics on the web, along with Digger.)

About halfway through, though, something hit me. I was flooded with a great big wave of regret for not doing any comics writing in years. As bad and short-lived as it was, I missed writing Kitewinds. I missed trying to get into the "weird writing place"* where the story took over my brain. I missed trying to plan out characters, only to have them go in a completely different direction. I missed hiding lame puns in dialogue. I missed trying to create a story, a background, a mythos, and a world to put them in. I missed not being able to decide on the tone of the story. I missed putting ideas to the page and seeing them illustrated. And, oddly, I missed being absolutely terrible at it all. Looking back, I don't even mind the bad parts of the creative process; in fact, I think I enjoy them.

But mostly, I just miss sitting down with a cup of tea and just writing. Just letting my mind flow into words and onto the page. And then seeing those ideas, no matter how strange or poorly worded or stupid they seemed given shape and form by an artist. To see my ideas become, in some small part, physical. Making something from nothing.

True, I could just start writing again. But without it actually ending up as a comic, without some sort of end result past the words... I dunno. It feels empty, somehow.


* To borrow a phrase from Wil Wheaton.

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