Declaration Of Intent

So, some time ago, I declared that I would only follow through on comic projects if they were fully planned out, from concept to post-production. I also said that I would focus on one thing at a time. Here’s where I get to hold myself accountable.

While I’m working on the issue 1 covers for the mainline four, I’m still scripting and will eventually do layouts for Espermarch I: Eyes Of Heaven. EOH is the prelude story that kicks off the four, and those four pick up right where EOH Act 1 ends. It’s the story of why the leads from those series look so distraught and distressed, and the initial bit of drama that sets us up for where are start the main four. I bring this up because I’ve been working on this book for months, and I think it’ll likely be released well after the others.

I’ve seen how I progress through a project. I’ve learned my strengths and my weaknesses. I’m typically the kind of person who jumps right into a story with all my ideas buzzing around my head with no plan, I just throw down some lines and move on. That’s probably great energy for a one-shot but not so much for an ongoing one. If there’s more story I want to tell of a given character, then I have to give them a reason, but I also have to give myself a reason. What keeps me coming back? What else is there to tell? That’s where the outline comes in.

The outline is the overall plan for the full narrative, at the highest level. It’s the “here’s where we start, here’s where we’re going, here’s how we get there” plan. It takes my concept and gives it some guardrails to be explored and played with, but also a destiny. Historically, I’ve never done well with outlines, but I think that’s due to my trying to make my outlines like everyone else’s instead of just what I need. I don’t need the script in the outline, but if there’s a line in my head that needs to be a part of it, that should get down. But again, mile-high view only. Wide angles.

The next layer down in the outline is the arc outline. Every some-odd number of issues (usually five, for me, but I know in most mainstream circles it’s six) is an arc, and each arc tells a portion of the larger tale that takes the story from one point to the next. The characters will experience something during that arc, some conflict that gets them from start to next start. Simple enough. Again, still at a high view, but now I get to think about some fun scenes I may want to throw in that arc, even if they don’t have a place yet. If I’m doing it right, the arcs are fully self-contained and have lots of fun moments.

Next layer down I’m thinking about the individual issues in that arc. How do we get from point A to point B in five (or six) issues? How are we breaking down that arc outline into its specific parts? This is where real issue planning is, where I say, “Take this one or two lines of concept from the arc and drop it here. Tell that story in this issue.”

Finally, we get to the scripting portion. I take those little story parts and divide them up into scenes! Each scene is four pages of script and should also be self-contained, but sometimes it needs to go beyond those four pages. I’m okay with that as long as it makes story-flow sense and doesn’t do anything abrupt. This means I have to stay focused on the story part I’m trying to tell and either stretch out an idea for a page or two or condense a major moment by a page or two. Lots of times I like major moments or scenes to take up a few consecutive pages if there’s more I want to say. Most times, I’m content with the four.

Why four? Because that’s the perfect amount of pages I can get done in a sitting every week without feeling stressed. I can go through pencils, inks, colors, and letters on four pages a week and get it all done. Any more than that, and I’m stressing myself out. So, let’s not stress me out! Four pages per week is perfect.

Now that the scenes are broken down, I can actually describe the scenes the way I want. Or rather, the way I imagine them. I take those scene directions and break them down into pages. This is now the ground level of my planning, and each page direction is broken down into panels. Once a scene is done, I move to the next scene. I’m trying to make sure the dialogue is scripted in a scene before I move to the next scene, but sometimes I have more momentum on those scenes and page directions than I do on the dialogue, which works sometimes! Not every panel or page needs some dialogue. Sometimes, the art should speak for itself, and a moment needs silence to exist. Finding that out after the scene directions are done is part of the fun. I can always add it in if I really need it there.

All these steps happen at different points of the development process. My highest layer, the big outline, starts when I come up with a new story idea. Even then, that takes a bit of time to come about because I need to figure out what it exists for and what story needs to be told here. Everything else just flows from that. Finally, the scripting portion only comes about when that arc plan is done—or it should. Again, lessons were learned in the last few years.

You know, one of my best friends told me, “Not everything has to be planned,” and my immediate response was, “Yes, it does. For me. If I want anything done, it has to be planned out.” And that’s what I’m leaving you with here. Any story that I tell, any comic, has been planned out in full just so that I can tell the story with all the fun things I want in it. Without it, it’ll be a big, messy jumble and make no sense. I don’t want to be a messy storyteller.

That’s all.