We Are Who We Choose to Be
Dear Readers,
A while back, my brother and I did a comic shop crawl in Chicago. We traveled around the different neighborhoods, checking out diverse stores filled with comics (of course), zines, and works by local artists.
A week ago, my wife and I checked out a comic shop in the Logan Square neighborhood that I missed in my previous "crawl."
Across the Chicagoland area, I'm always on the hunt for new comic shops. I love checking out the layouts, the rows and rows of back issues, the unique finds on the walls behind the cashier counter, and especially in Chicago shops, the assortment of local creators who, more often than not, self-published their comics or zines (sometimes assembling them by hand).
When you're in a labyrinthine store, there's sort of a vibe, a power that runs through the rows of shelves. It's a unique form of electricity, crackling as you walk by. When you touch anything, there's a static at first, then a low hum as you pick out a book, one wherein you can just barely make out a voice.
Whether it be a comic shop or bookstore, art gallery or record store, creative people live in stores like these. We consume what we create. We take inspiration from both our contemporaries and those who came before. We share energy with the past and present.
I'm not saying anything new. I know.
But what I'm getting at is… as a person who creates, as a person who longs for an audience to take a chance on them, how often do you reach for the unknown name in your shop of choice? How often do you let the electric pull draw you into an unexplored area of the bookstore?
I get it. You came with $20 in your pocket, and you're limited by both choice and budget. You want something damn good, and there are plenty of sure bets near the front of the store. It's risky to dig deeper, to hunt down a wildcard and open up a mystery that could either delightfully surprise or repulse you.
Out in the suburbs, I can live a guilt-free existence and visit stores where 99% of the inventory is in the “sure bet” category. Thousands of people have already read through and categorized these books on Goodreads. There are aggregate scores a-plenty, and it’s a road easily traveled where I’m pretty sure I know what I’m getting.
I have to venture to the heart of the city, to the smaller, indie, mom-and-pop shops in order to see what the locals are up to. And it makes me feel guilty.
Why? Because there are literally thousands of Spider-Man or Batman books to choose from, and as a fan of those things, I want to read them all. But there's also "Whatever The Hell This Is" on the local author shelf. It's more expensive than the popular pulps by a buck or two, and it's being sold on consignment. The creator will only get a fraction of that money, and more likely than not, those books will take a long time to move.
There are no Goodreads reviews for these. There are seldom “staff pick” mentions or online buzz of any kind, but the electricity is just as strong here. Stronger even. Why? Because you can be the first one to pick this book up. You can be one of the early adopters to review it. By exploring the unknown, you risk forging a wholly unexpected, and therefore deeper, connection.
I see these books, and I’m reminded that I, too, want someone to take a chance on my work. Like any creative person, I, too, seek that validation that someone both read and enjoyed something I created.
I’ve been told many times throughout my life that, “You get what you put out into the universe.” Whether there’s some karmic retribution or not, it’s a good motto to live by. A better slogan might be, “You gotta spend money to make money,” but I’d retool it to say, “You gotta spend currency to make currency” and specify that time is our most valuable currency.
We need to acquiesce to our guilt and choose the wildcard. Whether that means getting off Amazon and purchasing books directly from small presses/publishers or picking up just one item from the local author shelf, we need to take that chance. If we don’t, how can we expect someone to take a chance on us?
Feel free to tell me about some of your favorite presses in the comments below. I’ll post two that I really like.
We’re All in This Together,
Scott
Hey! Before you go… I have a new fiction piece up at Drunk Monkeys. Please read “Night Sky” here.