S. Jeremy Hicks

That time has arrived once again. The first of the year is here and it’s time to make all these goals and stepping stones for ourselves. Whether or not we believe they will be reached, we still make them. I think it’s a good habit to form, but an even better habit is to stick to them. That’s the tough part.

We fail, I fail. But even more, my biggest failure in attaining these goals is to never really put forth the effort. I know what I want to accomplish, but I never really try. It’s easier (and lazier) to assume that I’ve failed before I even try. I’m not alone in this – I see it all the time. But, I cannot control what others do – I can only control myself.

So yes, I have numerous goals for 2017. Some may work out, some may not. But my number one goal, my number one resolution for this year?

TRY

I have to make the effort. I mean really make the effort. If I attempt something, can I look myself in the mirror and honestly say that I tried? Or did I half-ass attempt something, with subpar effort only subconsciously set myself up for failure, to shift the blame to someone else?

Truth time. I have been guilty of this, in many areas I’ve sought to improve myself in the past. I would never take a chance because in my mind I’ve already failed. It’s a terrible habit to fall into -never risk, never chance, and never put yourself out there. I mean, they call it a comfort zone for a reason. It’s comfortable!

So, there are several more specific things that bleed off from “TRY”. Artwork goals, career goals (though the two aren’t mutually exclusive), spirituality goals, health goals, family goals, goals for my podcast, etc. The list goes on.

But when I wonder why things aren’t where I want them to be, in aspect of my life, I have revisit and see if I really gave it the level of attention, dedication, and sacrifice that it deserved. Did I really TRY?

I called in sick to work yesterday (Monday). It wasn’t a lie, I really was sick.  

This morning I am back at work, at my desk, writing this. Do I feel better? Slightly. It probably would have been a good idea to have stayed home another day until I felt better, and to lessen the chance that I get any of my coworkers sick, but here I am. I don’t want to endure the ration of shit that’d likely be hurled at me had I called in again. Bad enough I gotta hear about how bad yesterday was with me not being here.

But, alas, here I am. Obligations. Responsibilities. Chasing that almighty dollar at a grossly unfulfilling occupation. The dirty, unappealing, disgusting side of adulthood that children fail to realize when they dream of being an adult. Well, most kids anyway.

I was never one to romanticize the idea of adulthood when I was kid. I still don’t. Sure, I enjoyed the aspect of the freedom to eat what I wanted, watch what I wanted on TV, or to stay up as late as I wanted. Little did I know at the time that once I reached adulthood, I’d need to be on a diet, the majority of TV sucks, and I’d be so tired I’d want to go to bed early? No, kids don’t realize that until they become adults.

I had an inkling though. I grew up in house with a dad who hated his job and spent year after year stressed to the point it affected his physical health, all the while trying to convince himself he enjoyed it. I watched this and it terrified me of adulthood. Until now, nearly 40 years old, and I realize I’ve done much the same thing in many ways.

But I digress.

As I said, I stayed home from work yesterday, and felt utterly terrible. Cold, sinus infection, whatever it is, it sucks. I felt drained and didn’t do anything but sit on my ass and take meds, cough, and sneeze and blow my nose all day.

Gave me a lot of time to think about what I am doing. Just with my existence in general.

I have goals I’d like to accomplish, and the more I really step back and look at my efforts to achieve those goals, well, they’re minimal at best. Why? Fear. Apprehension. Rejection. Procrastination. Laziness. Hell, any number of excuses. At the end of the day, any day, I cannot realistically be honest with myself and say that I made an appropriate effort to reach them.

This saddens me because it makes me question the validity of those goals, those dreams, and are they really as important to me as I thought they were? Do I really want them like I thought I did? Yes, yes, of course I do! So why aren’t I putting in the work and making the sacrifices that I know I should be?

WHY is irrelevant. Doesn’t matter. Solution? DO IT ANYWAY. Overcome it.

Yep. I don’t need to question what the reason is that I keep procrastinating, I just need to STOP procrastinating. I may not have the answers to my lack of motivation, but the fact that I recognize that lack itself is answer enough.

So, my biggest goal right now? To finish my comic. I am in the process of writing the first issue of an all original story, characters, etc. I am about 11 pages in of a 22 page script.

I am pretty excited about it. I think that it holds merit and has the ability to become something special. Even if not to everyone else, special to me. That is my first goal, the one of my primary focus at this point – to finish the script, then begin drawing it.

Now, I have said it (well, written it) and therefore created accountability. For good measure, here goes again, with time frame:

Today is April 26, 2016. By May 6, 2016 I will have the first draft of issue 1 of my original comic “Severterra” written.

Lofty, but not impossible. That leaves me roughly two weeks to complete it. I think that if I dedicate at least an hour every weekday between now and then, as well as at least two hours Saturday and two hours Sunday this weekend, I can accomplish this:

“Today is April 26, 2016. I will dedicate at least one hour each weekday and two hours Saturday and two hours Sunday, between now By May 6, 2016 I will have the first draft of issue 1 of my original comic “Severterra” written. That is a total of 13 hours beginning this evening. If I reach a complete script before that point is reached, I will still work on this project in the way of rewrites, character sketches, or begin page layouts.”

Whoa. Never done that before. Like, actually stating it – laying it out there in black and white. It’s definitive now. It’s not some far off “when I get to it” type dream. It’s there. It’s RIGHT THERE. Huh. Feels good, actually. It’s small, simple and straightforward, and attainable. And now, I am accountable. No more excuses, no more “reasons” why I’m not making the effort. Who cares? The “whys” don’t matter.

In the words of one of my personal heroes, director Kevin Smith:

“Never ask why. Ask why not.”

Great advice.

Until next time –

I met my best friend for the first time in 2003 - September 24, specifically.

Got  a call from the girl I was seeing at the time, while I was at work. She called me from the animal shelter, telling me that there was a group of Weimaraner pups there. She knew that I liked those dogs, so she thought if I could get away I should come down there and see them .

I did.

I walked in the animal shelter, where they have the kennels with the dogs. I never gave a second look at the Weimaraner pups. I couldn’t. I spotted a lone Yellow Labrador Retriever in a kennel all by himself.

He was smiling up at me with the most sincere eyes I’ve ever seen. Big and brown, and almost human in their honesty. I knew that day he’d go home with me.

And he did.

The date was September 24, and they said at the pound that he was about 9 months old. That meant immediately to me that his birthday would be Christmas eve, and would be acknowledged at such.

His name was Butters. Well, “Butternut” like the squash, but we all called him Butters.

This was 2003.

The girl I was dating at the time has since become a distant memory. The girl I dated after her became my wife. She also became the mother to my two boys. Well, 3 boys if you count Butters. He was our first son.

From the moment that Angela and I started dating, she loved Butters - though he didn’t love her. In fact, he didn’t even like her. Prior to us, it had just been him and me for quite a while. Now, this woman infiltrates our home, and scored so much of his daddy’s attention away from him…well,… this couldn’t stand! So, Butters chewed up and destroyed her favorite pair of shoes. I mean, she asked for it right? Who the hell did she think she was?

Luckily, this didn’t last. No, shortly after, Angela and I ultimately got married and had two boys of our own - brothers to Butters. He loved all of them, nearly as much as he loved me. Nearly. I mean, he was my son before I had a son, a wife, or anyone else besides him. No one could take that from us.

This all came to an abrupt end yesterday.

I got a call at work, from Angela, hysterical. She came home from work and found our boy - lifeless.

Sad, but he’d been battling cancer for a while, and his body had become riddled with tumors. We knew it was only a matter of time, but damn. Time or not, it still hurts.

I spent yesterday’s cloudy afternoon digging a grave in the back yard for my best friend, with my wife. My friend, who’d been there beside me that first day that I met my girlfriend. My friend, who’d been there with me the day I made her my wife. My friend, who’d been there the day I brought home my first born. My friend who’d been there to greet my second. My friend who’d brought us all so much joy and happiness, and never wanted anything more than our love in return. He had a family, our family, and he was as much a part of it as any of us. He was part of the foundation of it, and for that I am eternally grateful.

A dog. Just a dog? Say what you will naysayers, I don’t give two shits. He was my son. My first son. And my best friend.

Rest in peace, Butters. Your mama cried yesterday, shovel in hand right beside me as we laid you to rest. We’ll miss you sleeping in the bed between us at night. Rest in peace Butters, as your brothers cried in your departure from their lives. We’ll never forget you.

I could give two less shits about those who may dispute it, but you were a special boy. Not just special to us, but special - one in a million. Know that you meant the world to me, and eventually the world to us. You weren’t just a dog, my friend. You were a son to my wife and a brother to my boys.

And always, my best friend. Love you buddy.

Well, well, well!

The weekend has ended, and it seems, once again everyone has an opinion. Naturally, the internet is going to explode with a furious onslaught of lovers and haters – however in this instance, it seems at least from what I’ve seen, the vast majority lean toward the latter.

Which is unfortunate for an event with such hype and buildup.

As for myself, I am certainly in the minority here – I really enjoyed Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice. As did Todd, my friend and podcast partner (www.brohugspodcast.com), we both dug it.

I will do my best to keep this spoiler free for those who’ve not seen it, but for those who are still reading, here’s my two cents worth:

Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice. I dug it. It met my expectations for a direct sequel to 2013’s Man of Steel. It feels very “Zack Snyder” – as expected. It was dark, brooding, and that mood carried throughout for the most part.

This mood works well for Bruce Wayne. I don’t think it does for Clark Kent/Superman – in fact I felt like that was the biggest issue with Man of Steel. It felt like they tried to take the darkness in Bruce and inject it into Clark. In my humble opinion that didn’t work in MoS, and it didn’t work in BvS. Don’t get me wrong, I love Henry Cavill as Clark/Superman, and he does a astronomical job in both films. It’s just the overall character direction and development for these films is just plain wrong for this character. Superman is stable and unwavering. He smiles, Bruce doesn’t.

Ah, Bruce. I feel justified in saying that Ben Affleck played Bruce Wayne/Batman better than he’s ever been played before. I can hear the boos and hisses already, but yeah, I said it – and I stand by it.

Yes, better than Bale. I personally never dug Christian Bale as Bruce Wayne/Batman. Not to take away from him as an actor, but my expectations of what Bruce is never felt fulfilled. Just my opinion.

Yes, better than Keaton. For me, that’s a big deal. Keaton has always been my Batman.

The 1989 Batman was my first exposure to the character live action on screen beyond reruns of Adam West as Batman in the 60’s TV show. Sure, I had the comics and old cartoons, but this version, this troubled dark world of Gotham, this WAS Batman in my eyes.

I have been guilty of saying that no other live action Batman since had been close to Keaton, including Bale. (I state “live action” because Kevin Conroy in the 90’s animated series was STELLAR)I may be nostalgic and romanticizing the memory of how impactful 1989’s Batman was on me, but so what. It’s my opinion regardless of the legitimacy of what fuels it.

But back to Affleck. I think he beat them all. SO true to the character of Bruce Wayne. I thought that he nailed it as Batman as well. He was prepared and it showed. He loves this character and that too was obvious. There is a depth in his performance that made me feel he was the character. His portrayal pulled me in, and kept me in it. I loved it, and thought he was an awesome Batman.

Jesse Eisenberg was impressive to me as Lex Luthor. I had a few reservations about him in that role, but the way he played it? It worked. He was a little off kilter, a little insane – but not overdone. He definitely displayed his jealously and resentment of Superman, and did so very entertainingly. I dug him in this role.

Gal Gadot was lovely and fierce on screen as Diana Prince/Wonder Woman. I would have loved to seen that character get more screen time, but unfortunately in this film it was limited. I still don’t like her look as this character. She is too small to play an Amazonian warrior, speaking strictly physically. But she dominated the screen and commanded the performance skillfully, so much so it almost made up for her lack in stature. All things considered, I thought she nailed the role.

Ultimately, if I had to pick something about this film I didn’t like, it would have to be the length. I think that a good 20-30 minutes could have been trimmed out of it. It would have picked up the pace, and kept me more engaged in the slow periods. It felt a little draggy at times, and a little more time in the editing room I feel would have rectified that.

But I really loved this movie. Possibly because I am a hardcore fanboy of this genre. Possibly because I am a tremendous Batman geek. Possibly because I had certain expectations going in that were met throughout the story. Not sure what exactly the reason is, but in due course it revealed itself to be a beautiful culmination of characters and worlds I have adored as far back as I can recall. I really enjoyed myself, as did my buddy Todd @toddb21e who went with me. We both really enjoyed it. In fact, immediately following our viewing of the film, we sat down and did a SPOILER LOADED review. You can find that at

https://soundcloud.com/brohugspodcast/episode-23-batman-v-superman-review

I recommend it, but of course watch at your own risk. You may agree with me, you may not. But either way, you get to see a superhero movie – and that can never be all bad!

Until next time,

Jeremy

@sjeremyhicks

Here’s the thing about being a creative person and having an unfulfilling day job: its draining.

I don’t want to complain, I really don’t. I am really trying to make a conscious effort to eliminate the two C’s from my life: Complaining and Criticizing.

I have to come to realize two things: Criticizing is purely selfish. It serves only to belittle others to lift myself up. Almost like making myself feel better by putting down others. I really don’t want to be that guy.

Complaining works similarly. It is a way of focusing on the negative aspect rather than the positive. Usually about things that I have ZERO control over anyway. Why complain? To myself or others? Does it change anything for the better? No. Not at all. It’s pointless when you really think about it.

So, I am not writing this to complain or criticize – just to state my feelings and get it out there – in a journalistic way. Ya know, informative.

In the shoes of a creative person, a day job is a necessary evil of life that is tough to deal with. It is something that, at least right now, I have no choice but to have. Bills must be paid and family must be taken care of. It is the nature of life, and there is nothing I can do about it. I realize that.

I think that the biggest problem is the lack of passion I have for it. I have tried, many times, to locate some facet of my daily routine that grasps a hold of my appetite in some form or fashion.

Been doing this a lot of years and it hasn’t happened yet.

I spend my day thinking about all the artistic endeavors I rather be chasing. I have ideas for characters I long to work on. I have ideas for stories I’d rather be writing. But those have to be put on hold for the majority of the allotted conscious time I have in the course of a week. It sucks.

But here’s the silver lining: sacrifice. What? How can “sacrifice” be a silver lining?

Well, sacrifice of other aspects of my life can afford me the opportunity to feed that creative monster scratching desperately on the outside of my door.

I am willing to sacrifice for my art. Not the important things like my wife and kids, mind you. I will always make time for them - they come before all of this, of course.

No, I am referring to the things that in the grand scheme of my pursuits, really aren’t that essential. Those things can be chipped away at as needed. After dinner, is it really that vital that I waste hours watching television or scanning Facebook, Twitter and Instagram? Is it really that imperative that I go get a beer or three with my buds on Saturday night? Is it really that imperative that I watch every single football game that comes on Sunday? Nope.

While this is just a short list of some things I enjoy in my free time, is it something that is going to get me closer to my dream of creating comics for a living, and out from behind this desk selling building materials I couldn’t give two shits about? No way – no how. In the grand scheme of “my life” I have to really question where my priorities are, and their level of importance.

Sacrifice. I have to start sacrificing some of these other things to work toward my dreams – my goals. The career I long for isn’t going to fall into my lap. I have to work at it, for it.

So, yes, for the time being I will remain at my job. I will do so with the understanding that it is a means to an end, and not a definitive. It is there for me to provide for my family, bills, and the day to day. BUT I will also not let go of what I really want for my life and my career.

In many ways sacrifice is about to become my name. It has to. Nothing worth having comes easy. Dreams aren’t just made, they’re earned. 

And I’m going to work.

Until further notice,

In my last post, I did a recap of my first involvement in Artist Alley at my very first convention – Pensacon 2016. Not to backtrack, but I learned a lot, and I had great time. The people working the event as well as the congoers couldn’t have been nicer. It was a very positive experience getting my feet wet.

Now, since then I have been reading a lot about artists at these events, who do essentially what it was that I was doing – selling my original artwork of other existing characters.

In my research, I’ve learned what has become much of what floods Artist Alley(s) is people selling prints; prints of other peoples’ and other companies’ properties. While many say it’s a bit of a gray area, I do have the opinion on the matter from many industry artists that I admire and respect regarding the copyright aspect of it.

There are quite a few artists do not like it or respect it, but understand that people get away with it because the monetary gains of those artists are minimal in the grand scale of what it would cost a huge corporation like Marvel or DC to litigate. It’s easier for them to turn a blind eye – though it technically isn’t legal.

While that may be so, several artists in this field don’t like this practice – at all. I would love to quote some of the things here that I read on Twitter and Facebook regarding this topic, but without permission I hesitate to do so (I really don’t want to piss anyone off). Suffice it to safely say that most pros that I know are not a fan.

There is what conventions’ Artist Alleys once were vs. what they have become. I have learned from many pros that it used to be about artists promoting their own book, their own work, and themselves. An opportunity for fans to talk with their favorite artists. A chance to get an original commission from an artist you have always admired. And avenue for independent artists to endorse their own creations and their own work.

Again, speaking from the standpoint of various artists I know, it has morphed into something completely different. More than artists pushing their own book, or doing commissions for fans, it has transformed into people selling “cool” prints of existing characters for a quick buck. Surprisingly, many of the people at the booths selling these prints aren’t even the artists who drew them – in ARTIST Alley!

Not to take away from the talent of these artists who draw these prints, but what they have done is taken something special that existed in the comic convention arena, and converted it into a total flea market atmosphere. It is drawing prints of copyrighted characters (illegal) simply for the sale of prints. It has become more about the mad dash of chasing that almighty buck, in turn drowning the love of the art, the craft and creation of comics itself.

I feel like drawing copyrighted characters for fun and appreciation is fine, as in fan art. I do it, and I’ll continue to. But multiple prints of any given character for the sole purpose of selling at cons to make some money? Not the same thing as being a comic creator.

And I am guilty.

This is exactly what I did at Pensacon this year. Had I done the extensive digging that I have been as of late, I may not have gone the route I did. I hate to be the one to claim ignorance in this instance, but that is the truth. I didn’t know any better.

I do now.

In light of this personal realization, I’m not going to do it anymore.

Am I not going to get a table in an Artist Alley to promote myself, and my work again? NO WAY! Of course not! Don’t be absurd!

I am not going to be a “Print Peddler” of other properties. Not going to do it. It is a cheapening that I am now fully aware of, and sensitive to. Oblivious until recently, I now know how it hurts the business rather than helps, and I’ll be damned if I remain on what I deem the wrong side.

Instead, I am going to focus my efforts more on where I feel they should be focused: my original work. I have a lot of ideas swimming around in my skull, and I need to concentrate on getting them out.

I am going to put myself into my work, and my exceptional and distinctive thoughts into it. Sure, I could continue spitting out my spin on reproductions of my favorite characters, and turn them for a few dollars. OR I could emphasize on my own original story, imagination and art ideas, and create my own world.

Isn’t that essentially what I want in this industry for anyway? To make my own mark?

Sure, should I be lucky enough to be provided the chance to work on a Batman, Daredevil, Spider-man, Superman, etc., I would JUMP at the opportunity! I’d be a fool not to.

But to get that sought after landing spot, to get noticed by the right people, well, it doesn’t come from selling a really cool Incredible Hulk print at a convention.

It comes from storytelling. It comes from imagination. Original ideas and unique characters. And above all, hard work, patience, and the willingness to always continue learning.

If it’s good it will garner attention from the right people, and I’ll make my mark.

So, the efforts on my part have shifted. No more taking the easy way out, and seeking to capitalize on the success of others before me – to make a quick buck.

Nope.

I am about to put pencil to paper and digital pen to screen, and get to work. To work on something that is mine. Something that means something to me. Something that I love, and believe in.

Until next time, stay tuned –