The one phrase that stood out for me was in one of Heidi’s comments: “moment of change”. When I reflect on all of the books I’ve enjoyed, whether they be indy autobiography or superhero fantasy or anything in between, they’ve each shown some growth, acquisition of wisdom, or new direction of inquiry over the course of the narrative, if not for the characters (whose story may be one of folly or tragedy), then for the author and the reader. That narrative can be linear, non-linear, fantastical or literal, but at the end, I like to have gained something from accompanying a character (and/or the author) through their own journey to some new end. I like to be left with something to think about afterwards. It can be the further imaginative exploration of the new fantasy world the author has revealed, the juxtaposition of the author’s personal life lesson against my own life problems or even just a good joke. In any case, I have some new useful knowledge that I didn’t have before I started.

The bad autobiography and the bad superhero fantasy and everything in between arrive at nothing new, show no growth and give me no inspiration (though I have occasionally been inspired by badness, in the manner of “holy crap I could do better than that, so maybe I should give it a try…”).

I think the frustration may be worse with autobiographical books because it’s the author’s own personal lack of growth that you are an annoyed witness to. It’s like going out for coffee with the friend who never learns to stop dating the same lousy type of person, yet you have to listen to them whine about it again and again, in complete disregard to your advice to try dating a different kind of person. Except in the case of a comic, that friend took the time to put their tale of pathetic emotional inertia into words and pictures, someone published them and used paper to print them instead of something more interesting, and you paid money to look at them.

The superhero/fantasy books (or even the semi-autobiography that is fiction informed by the author’s experience) that have no point are a similar waste of resources, but in their case, the author has failed only at story-telling, not also at life (so far as the reader knows). Maybe this is why they tend to get a pass.

Narrative craft also plays a huge part, of course. It should go without saying. But I have read well-crafted works that concluded without anyone involved having gained anything. I don’t care how amazing your illustration talent is or your knack for turning a metaphor, what’s in it to make it more worth my while than perusing Communication Arts’ Illustration Annual or reading Roget’s Thesaurus? Where’s my “moment of change”?

I’m not sure why the existence and continued creation of either is anywhere close to a bad or undesirable thing. If there’s a market for a particular strain of indie comic and that strain isn’t morally repugnant, then so much the better that such a market need get filled.

I don’t think the existence and production of either the mopey, grey-day auto-bio or the shiny, happy power fantasy has anything to do with either the future of comics or how they’re perceived. What does affect these goals though is a mix of consumer action and public perception (probably through the newsy media) of those consumers.

To that end, if we want the future of comics to be as bright as we’d all like it to be, we should all simply purchase well-honed stories, just as we hope to do with books, movies, and music. As consumer interest evolves and becomes better accustomed to purchasing the best quality stuff instead of a range of work simply because that is what is available, the range and quality of purchasable work will continue to evolve toward that bright future.

If we want public perception of comic books to get better and better then the simple answer is that the purchasers of comics need to stop being nerds. That can either happen as the medium increases its range and quality and draws in new readers (perhaps of the ilk that Chris Ware is beginning to draw in) or the medium’s current demographic can simply stop being dorky. I’m not sure which of these would be more likely, but either could help the public perception problem; and eliminating the public perception problem is the surest route to that glittering, shiny future of comics that we all want - a future in which comics are truly considered a people’s medium, one in which any manner of story can be well-told and , indeed, is.

Mark