Drawing Blind Alley

I started Blind Alley in one of the strange calms after rushing to meet a deadline on The Gulf. I'm now accustomed to the bewildering quiet after months sprinting; the lag time between submission and a publisher taking the (long) time needed to give feedback. Back then, it was discomfiting. I was bad at idling. It was still in the early stages of COVID lockdowns and I could feel a depression would wrap me up if I stopped.

Blind Alley had been in my sketchbook since 2018. It was one of those moments of outpourings where it all just enters the sketchbook. The strangest thing about these moments, is that there’s also this innate recognition that there’s a bottom to these bursts of inspiration. After an hour or two, I had drawn a cast of characters. I’d outlined the “plot”. I’d even roughed a few strips. I kept trying to add to the idea but knew it was brittle. I was at a cafe I’d frequent when visiting my parents in my hometown, I remember closing my sketchbook and standing up with the thought, “ok — that’s an idea for later”.

A few years later in 2021, my feelings had settled on the project. It was, simply, way too dark. However, I still found myself thinking of it. I really loved some of the strange characters I drew. I felt I knew them. I’d always wanted to draw a strip and keeping busy sounded a whole lot better than being depressed.

So I started drawing Blind Alley during one of those interminable, indeterminate, gaps while working on The Gulf. I wasn’t sure how long I’d have to wait for feedback on my script, so I didn’t overthink the process — I just drew and drew and drew. Once I was working on my book again, I wasn’t certain when my next window of opportunity would be to draw the strip. Looking back, I recognise I was repeating the pattern I always had; rushing to meet imaginary deadlines and pushing anything else aside.

I can’t remember how many strips were in that first batch, but sixteen or twenty feels right. I continued on working in this way. These moments between The Gulf felt like tapping into a reservoir. I’d spend a week or weekend pumping out strips. I’d stay up late and wake up early. So little thought was put into them; one strip would lead to the next. That first year of Blind Alley looks rushed to me, but I am still proud of it. It was the first thing I made that felt like me. It’s now the thing I chase when creating — I want to be unthinking.

I’ve written at length about burning out after working on The Gulf, but this pattern carried on with Blind Alley even after finishing the book. I’d draw 16 strips in a week and then not work on it for two months. This way of working creates momentum within the project, but it’s only this year, at the start of year 4, that I recognised the rush I had always been in. It’s a comic strip — what’s the hurry?

Starting year 4, I wanted to try something different. I knew I had space to draw Blind Alley at a slower pace and I wanted to know what it would be like drawing a daily strip day-of. Doing this has meant that Blind Alley is at risk of being effected by my day — this is the first year I’ve allowed myself to post the strip late. When I sit down on Monday, I’ll sketch out both Monday and Friday’s strip, but I’ll only ink the first strip. Having only two strips before me, I’ve found I draw slower. I’ve been taking more care with the art in each strip; pushing myself to be more intentional in my drawing, lettering, and composition. The way I was drawing Blind Alley before didn’t allow for this slowness. There was always another strip that needed to be drawn. Overall, I am proud of what I’ve made, but I do feel a lot of the strips visually represent the conditions they were made under.

It’s been an interesting change. There’s more fear involved; I sit down on Monday and always feel like there are no more strips in me. Inevitably, after an hour or so, I find a few. Even then, a strip always leads to another, so it’s also alarming to just hold myself to two. However, it’s hard to imagine going back to how I was working before. This past year has involved a lot of growth; I allow myself to stop and smell the flowers. Doing so in my work feels daunting. I move slower now. I no longer feel like it’s do-or-die. Comics take a lot of time to draw — will it take me 5 years to draw a 300 page book with this amount of care? Can I even manage a book and a strip at this pace? Time will tell.

Anyway, I’ve been thinking a lot about my desire to draw Blind Alley daily. I wouldn’t do away with other projects. I love writing and drawing graphic novels. I love working on Mutt Mag. Yet, I think sitting down each day and drawing a single comic strip sounds like a hell of a life. I’m considering ways to do so. More on that later!