Long John

I woke up on a day in 2002 and drew a character I saw in a dreamed vignette the night before. It wasn’t a vision or any kind of clear vocational calling. It was just a weird character, a character whose weirdness in the dream I couldn’t even start to capture in my drawing of him that morning. I often described the cowboy I dreamt of as Picassoesque, where any standard rules of anatomy or volumetric sense were not present, just a strange, animated work of strained cubism. It was just a big dude in longjohns and a flat wide-brimmed hat and a gun in each hand crouched behind a large rock. What played in the dream was a loop of this cowboy peeking out from behind the rock and firing the guns one after another. After each shot, he would throw the gun into the air and, as it spun up and down, the hammer had been pulled back by the time he caught it and was ready to fire another round. I never saw what he was shooting at. There was no story. It was just a weird thing that I thought was interesting enough to try and draw.

But the narrative potential for a character like this stuck with me, dug itself in, and intrigued my creativity. Months later I would start sketching out other characters and story motivations. I did this while visiting a friend, my wife and I helping her move. Long John entered my sketchbook less than a year after I flunked out of college (it was easy, I just stopped going). I had just moved to a different city with my brand new girlfriend (who, years later, became my wife) without a job or any kind of plan. I was absolutely lost.

I turned 45 near the end of last year. I have a career I’m not even halfway into and I’ve been making comics semi-professionally for nearly 19 years. My life is comfortable. I’m happy. I’m not sure the 22 year old version of me, sitting at the kitchen table of our apartment drawing this weird cowboy I saw in a dream, could comprehend what kind of person he would be at 45, much less that this cowboy character would still be around. I think he would be pleased that something he did ended up having some value.

I started posting Long John in June 2014; I was 33 years old and just starting as a professional teacher. For the first time in my creative life, I was doing something completely on my own with no creative partner to bounce ideas off of, need for motivation, or who I could tell when I wanted to quit. I didn’t know if I could tell a full story; I didn’t know if I wanted to. I thought maybe Long John would just be a one-chapter thing before going on to something else or going back into a creative partnership with someone. Maybe I would have gotten the whole comic thing out of my system. What I remember was that I was really excited. I’m sure 2014 me would be shocked that it took 11 years to get through it. But if I sat down with him and let him read all 6 books, I know that he would be incredibly impressed and incredibly proud of what Long John ended up being.

When I think about how I could have done things better––better marketing (any marketing, to be honest), better promotion, using crowdfunding, exhibiting at more shows––I don’t regret any of it. I think it came down to why I was making Long John. Obviously, I greatly appreciate and value the readers and friends who have loved the comic, helped promote it, and, of course, have spent money to support it, and I did make it for people who wanted a good story with good characters but is a little different. I thank––truly, from the bottom of my heart, to the core of my being––all of you. But the truth is, I made Long John for 2014 me, to show him that he could make something that never compromised on the story he wanted to tell, that actually got him to grow as an artist, and done exactly the way he wanted to do it, and that it was good.

This final page is my evidence that I can make comics. Damn good comics.

Keep a good thought,

-D.