Chapter 3: The Overview/Outline
How (Not) to Make Comics
Alright, this is step one when trying to write a comic book.
Well, actually, there is no “step one” unless you’re writing a licensed property. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves because that’s another animal, and I’m still trying to figure that one out. But here’s a place to start when you don’t know how to start writing—and I will talk about how to write licensed stuff in a later chapter.
Something stuck with me when I heard Greg Rucka on the Word Balloon podcast probably a decade ago. You should puke it all on the page. I’m paraphrasing, but I am confident Rucka used the word puke. Whatever idea you have, just open that (insert preferred word processor) and start typing the next great American GRAPHIC novel.
I have found that getting that raw idea out of your head and onto the empty page does several things. The first thing and most important: the page is no longer blank. My empty mind will ruminate on an idea for days, weeks, and months. The scenario will flow in my head nonstop. Then, I will ask many questions pertaining to the story, plot, and character. But none of those questions will be answered unless they stare right before me.
Another thing I have found with the overview is that this method keeps you focused. I have found that having achievable goals makes writing something easier. When I process everything I want to say with this one story, I can come back to this overview/outline and remind myself of what I’m trying to say in the first place.
But you’d be surprised how much a story can grow and change as you write it. As the creative process…progresses, sometimes you can forget what this whole thing is about. This master document gives a framework to use as a compass toward the means to an end.
In journalism school, one of the first things I learned was the 5 Ws and the H. I’ve amended the process for comics, but the principle still stands:
Who is the story about?
What is the story about?
When is this story taking place?
Why is this story important?
Where does this story take place?
How are you going to tell this story?
At the end of the day, you will have one document serving several functions. But each of these questions must be answered at length. Simply answering “yes” or “no” will not suffice. Again, this is how my dumb brain tries to reason with the seedling of a story, so this is the way (not) to do it.
WHO: I hate to be blunt, but, who is your story about?
Is your story, chapter, or issue being told by the protagonist? An unreliable narrator? Someone close to your protagonist? But it’s essential that the reader know what this is about—and it all comes back around to your protagonist.
Let’s take Batman, for example:
Every Batman story directly or indirectly involves and affects Batman. We’re probably getting his first-hand account of what’s happening to the caped crusader. The reader knows that if someone gets killed or commits a crime, Batman has to be the one to figure it out. If someone hurts Batman or someone close to him, Batman will be the one to pursue the assailant. The art of WHO your story is about can be masterly folded into the story without beating your reader over the head. They’re adults. No need to spoon-feed ‘em. But make it crystal clear. No need to be shy with this one. That’s what the plot is for.
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