In 2007 I was hired by editor Chris Duffy to do layouts for an 8-page Fairly Oddparents story for an all-comics issue of NICK MAG PRESENTS. Afterward, Nick Magazine ran a feature on how one of their comics was produced, which used a panel from the story to illustrate the process.
The 8-page Fairly Oddparents comic was called “Animal Magnetism” and ran in NICK MAG PRESENTS – BEST OF NICK ALL-COMICS ISSUE July, 2007(#22).
In 2005 I wrote the script and did the layouts for another Fairly OddParents strip, called “Breakin’ All The Speed Rules!”. which ran in Nick Mag #109.
I didn't like the Fairly Oddparents cartoon, which I had to watch to get a feel for the series when I wrote the earlier story. So working on the comics was a mixed bag. I enjoyed doing comics expressly for kids, I don't mind doing licensed work, but the characters and art style were a real turn-off for me. I found the cartoon (and it's design/style) kind of cloying and obnoxious. It's harder to be enthusiastic about a comic job when you don't connect with the material, but one thing I think I'm good at is faking that enthusiasm. I don't approach these kinds of jobs cynically, and hack them out with any kind of contempt. At least none that might show in the finished work. I respect the readers and the fans and my editors too much to do that. And myself. My name's on the job. So, one big trick that people don't often talk about is pretending you're into the work you're doing when you're not. At least to the point where it doesn't affect the comic itself. It's kind of a form of acting, on staying on the right side of bullshit while not phoning it in.
So, you find things to have fun with even when you don't like the characters or care much about the story. Like, cool, alligators. Or adding chicken fat background details, or extra bits of business. Or seeing if you can draw things on model.
Wait, maybe that wasn't such a good idea.
Part of the problem I had working on the comics was entirely my own fault. I have a compulsion to draw as closely on model as I can when I worked on licensed comics like this or The Simpsons. In this case it was a waste of time and effort. because I wasn't getting paid to pencil the story, but, if you look at the example above, my layouts were practically finished pencils. So much so that Chris tried to get me paid for doing the pencils on the "Animal Magnetism" gig, which was very kind of him. Unfortunately, because a penciler was contracted, Nick wasn't going to bump the artist and pay me. Which was perfectly understandable. I did the layouts that tight because of the way my overcompensating brain works. I had trouble turning in loose drawings or scribbles.
Oh, and as for adding chicken fat? That isn't always worth doing, since the penciler and inker are not bound to follow your lead. But here they kept the alligator family photos and "just married" cans, and the letterer did include the magazine cover. And I appreciated that. Sometimes you see your stuff erased, Vinnie Colletta-style, and it's a bummer. But the heart wants what it wants, and I will always try to honor Will Elder when I can with the cartoon schmaltz.
The tight layouts, however, wasn't a good use of my time. Or of yours, if you're an artist ever in the same position. From a freelancer's POV, it's spending time and energy to make the penciler's job easier. The penciler ain't gonna tip you, believe you me. So, take a tip, and when it comes to layouts, don't approach it as a drawing job. It's a storytelling job. You're a storyboard artist, not an animator, a layout artist, not a penciler. Don't give in to the urge to 'draw" when it isn't necessary. It sounds obvious, but t took me a loooong time to break the habit of practically finishing pencils on pitch submissions to Nick and MAD (and other clients).
Here's the thing: They know how you draw. They hired you because they know how you draw, or work, or think, or whatever. You have been drawing for years. You're not auditioning for an artist gig. You're part of a process where it's understood you're submitting sketches, layouts, not finished pencils or art. Editors and producers understand that. The needy artist brain, the imposter syndrome brain, might not. or doesn't. So it commands you to DRAW.
Don't listen to it.
If the client needs more information they'll tell you. Send roughs when you are submitting ideas. You're not cheating, even if your worry brain worries you are. Tighten up your drawings when the situation calls for it, not when your anxiety calls for it.
If all goes well, I'll take this advice more often. I still tend to overwork layouts and sketches. Sometimes the brain just wants to keep working to see what things can look like. The tendency to finish art can be strong. Resist!
Below: More recent examples of roughs sent to an editor (Daniel Chabon at DHC, BILL AND TED ARE DOOMED covers). Done on index cards, sketched quickly, dots for eyes. Because at this stage, the idea is the most important thing. Once an idea's accepted, the art brain kicks in. And the real anxiety. At this point you juts want the go-ahead. The fact that the third cover changed quite a bit from rough to finishes doesn't really matter, the basic idea -- Bill and Ted captured by the Black metal band and their acolytes -- was the thing that needed to get worked out and approved.

Evan Dorkin
2023-04-22 04:16:32 +0000 UTCRussell Grant
2023-04-19 20:03:16 +0000 UTC