I just finished listening to an interview with Glynnes Pruett, owner and proprietor of Comicbook Hideout, in Fullerton, CA, really just a five or so minute drive from where I now sit in the lab at Cal State Fullerton, typing up this post on one of the thirty or so Mac Pro towers inhabiting this space. It’s been a good day. Nice, windy Autumn weather, I don’t have to make an appearance of any kind at my “day job,” and on my way in, I even stopped by another local comic shop I admire, Ryan’s Comics, in Murrieta, CA (really, less than a mile from my house) and snagged the last copy of Murder Falcon.
It all sort of got me thinking about the nature of how we acquire comics these days, and the support necessary from us to keep printed comics as the available resource they currently are. Now, I don’t and won’t pretend to know a lot. I don’t have facts, figures, or numbers at my fingertips, but turning off the sophisticated navigational equipment for a second, I would like to venture out into that territory where thought and feeling collide to form something most of us would probably describe as instinct.
I love comic books. To a fault, even. You wouldn’t have to talk to my wife very long to determine that my proclivity for purchasing 5-8 titles a week is, or has been a major bone of contention in our relationship. It isn’t as physically harmful as say, smoking or alcoholism, but it is close to as expensive, and the stacks of comics building up in our bedroom, in our guest bedroom is not doing much to help my case. And I buy comics to read them, but at the same time, I do it as a way of supporting artists and creators I admire, albeit in this very small way. What it comes down to is support, and what that looks like. For those who have enough spare cash to keep lighting cigars with hundred dollar bills (I recently had to switch to using twenties, like a peasant) perhaps this won’t make as much sense. For the rest of us, especially those who have dabbled in comic creation enough to have rubbed elbows with some of our heroes on social media, it may mean looking at the artist and writer credits in the corners of the cover rather than the title space. If I see a book with the name “Sebela” on it, I f*cking buy that comic book. Ditto David Aja, Joshua Hixson, Cullen Bunn and a number of others. Murder Falcon was what I would describe as premeditated impulse. Someone I respect gave it a solid review on Twitter, and so a part of my brain decided I needed it. I missed it this past Wednesday, but fortunately, there was still a copy left for me at Ryan’s.
But here’s the problem:
As many books as there are out there, there are also a number of different comic shops, each with their own regulars and social dynamics. I would argue that even so, there is a sort of common denominator at play that is similar to visiting a Walmart or an In & Out Burger out of town, where both places tend to look and feel the same everywhere you go; comic book stores, by and large, all have a similar feel by dint of carrying a unified product base. Ryan’s Comics has been receiving my unreserved support since around 2009, when I first started shopping there and was blown away by Ryan’s forward thinking programs and position within the community, not to mention an ethic of customer service I associate more closely with bigger corporations like Apple or Nordstroms. More recently, however, I’ve hit a measure of conflict in that I have received similar service and camaraderie from SoCal Games & Comics, a fairly recent addition to the smallish lineup of comic shops in the Inland Empire. SCGC is remarkably close to my “day job,” so much so that I’ve been known to pop in there on my fifteen minute break, particularly on New Comic Book Day, and still make it back with a minute or two to spare. Rachel, the manager there, takes an active interest in every customer who comes through that door, something that Glynnes Pruett mentions doing in her interview on Gutter Talk. That goes a long way with a guy like me. Having a comic shop take note of and act proactively on my interests isn’t something I’m entirely used to in my LCS experience, but all the same, I’m learning fast. The problem lies in where to spend my money, whether to distribute equally amongst the two (right now, my budget leans more heavily toward SCGC, as their selection of variant covers at cover price is quite extensive), plus I have a regular pull that did not require my leaving a credit card number of roughly six books a month, and I don’t believe in not buying from the pull. It is tough though, and adding even further to that was this uncontrollable urge to take a slight detour on my drive to school this afternoon to go give Glynnes and Comicbook Hideout some of my hard earned money purely because I liked and appreciated what she had to say and want to support it in any way I can, even if it only means dropping $4 on a comic I haven’t purchased yet.
I didn’t end up visiting today as I did have things to do, not the least of which was dropping off a gallery wrapped canvas print of a piece I did for a combined Frankenstein/Authors of Cal State Fullerton art show coming up on Halloween. The piece looks great, and I’ll likely be adding it to the Covers session on this site, likely right after I finish writing this entry. I also need to get a start on my Inktober piece for today. For anyone who hasn’t been following along on Twitter or Instagram, I have embarked upon a series of spot illustrations of major figures and events from Norse Mythology. The whole thing actually culminated in a “Like” from none other than Neil Gaiman himself the other night. That little blip nearly caused me to purge all the data entries in my brain related to potty training and bodily waste retention. They’ve been a lot of fun to make, and small as it was, that little bit of effort from one I have admired for so long was validation at a very intense level for me.
Okay. If I had a point, I think it was this: Comic book stores need your support. Supporting one, exclusively, means perhaps robbing others of support, and so I encourage, tentatively, that those of us who care to see printed words and pictures make it into the next decade for our own children to pick up and read, exercise a level of impulsive loyalty. I wouldn’t suggest this in one’s romantic relationships, but every comic purchased from one shop means it’s not being purchased from another. Okay, that’s about enough out of me.
J. Paul Schiek
PS: I am going to endeavor to make this blog at least—at LEAST—a weekly affair from now on. There are things I want to say that don’t fit on Twitter or Instagram, and these days, I wouldn’t touch Facebook with a ten foot wiener.
