Howdy. Webmonkey Jeff here. Just wanted to add my .02 since Brian didn't. If there's a funnier and sadder statement written about the nature of comics retailing than, "Well nngggh O.K. As long nngggh it's just nngggh this once nngggh," I haven't read it.

Of course, we're still only at Tilting No.27, aren't we?

TILTING AT WINDMILLS #27
By Brian Hibbs
 
In the May issue of Comics Retailer, we have a Small Store Strategy by Preston Sweet, entitled "A Modest Proposal" where he talks about a (mythical?) organization called CRAPO (Comic Retailers Are Pissed Off). While his simile may not by directed squarely at your humble columnist, there are certain elements that I figure are intended as a slight barb to my own self (before we go any further, let me observe that, while Preston and I may bicker on any number of issues that face retailerdom, I like the man personally, and I can state with some degree of certainty that he has fought for more than one program [the Small Press Sampler leaps immediately to mind, as does the "40% direct from publisher to retailer, they pay shipping" {it needs a catchphrase} plan] that will benefit each and every one of us) However, I come today, not to praise Caesar, but to argue with him.

I've made it clear, more than once in this column (and elsewhere), that I have no great love for companies. My argument runs as follows: no company, at any time in the history of civilization, cares one iota for you. Oh sure, individuals within those companies may be on "your side", but the company itself never is. I can state this with a great deal of certainty having, over the years, watched one company after another dick around with the individuals within - individuals whom gave all of their lives and passion to that company. No matter how noble the intentions (look at Tundra), no matter how long the association (how about Chris Claremont and the X-Men?), no matter the length or breadth of the promises (look at, say, Marvel Mart...), inevitably they'll stick it to you.

In my mind a company says to you: "Look, you won't mind if we put a finger up your butt, do you? It's just our policy, and besides, it won't hurt you too much. Nothing personal, you know." So you say, "Well nngggh O.K. As long nngggh it's just nngggh this once nngggh". So, you accept it, and you walk around with a thumb in your ass for awhile. Now, at the point where you've basically gotten used to the pressure, someone from the company will come to you and say, "Look, I know we said it would just be a finger, but, well, some things have changed, so now we've got to use this broom handle. It shouldn't bug you too much, after all, you've already got a finger up your butt." "Well, O.K., nngggh that's certainly nngggh inescapable nngggh logic nngggh. Go ahead nngggh" Months pass (years even, maybe), and your sphincter adjusts, then they come back holding a baseball bat: "Look, we're sorry about this, but it's a new policy. Everyone else has a baseball bat, so we're going to have to insist you've got one too. We can't cut a special deal just for you - that wouldn't be fair, and, besides, there's already broom-handle sticking out of your asshole". And if you accept that, then next time it's a sapling, then a small car, and so on, until they manage to cram the Statue of Liberty in your nether-regions. They keep going, until you're more a hole than a human, at which point they say, "thanks for playing, but we've got a new contestant."

Let's face it, there's really only two kinds of people who decide to go into comics retailing: those who can't hack it in the "real" world, holding down "straight" jobs; and those who think they're going to make a lot of money (hah! - show me a rich comics retailer, and I'll buy that premise). Us "misfits" don't want to be beholden to anyone but ourselves, yet by and large, we end up getting in bed with the large publishers, with the cry "but that's what our customers want" Well, I can't speak for anyone else, but I'm not especially fond of anal intrusion, so that's why I decided quite some time ago not to play that game.

I was at the Capital City trade show the beginning of May, and I had a lot of you come up to me complementing me on this column (hey, thanks!), yet entirely oblivious to its contents ("What do you mean, cycle sheets?" <sigh>, don't tell me we've got to keep covering that ground?) - "Man, I can't believe what Marvel (and/or fill-in-the-blank) is doing/has done", the refrain went. "Yeah, so have you been reducing your dependence on them?" "No, but I plan to start real soon, now" Uhh, sorry guys, but it's nearly too late - this is what comes from "politeness at all costs", from "we've got to be nice to them": you've got a small elm tree sticking out of your rear end. Any publisher could go out of business tomorrow, and I'll still be standing. How many of you can say the same thing? Yeah, that's what I thought.

We're far more important to the publishers/ distributors than they are to us. Never forget this, 'cuz the second you do, you've got foreign parts lodged in your sphincter.

But, as I said towards the top, just because companies are inherently evil and soul-destroying entities, that doesn't mean the individuals in power are bad people. Hell, there are people at Marvel that I love dearly - I'd invite them for dinner at my house in a second, and I'd let them use my bathroom without checking to make sure that they didn't raid the medicine cabinet. However, Marvel, itself, will never get that same invite - I'm too afraid they'll steal the towels. I like most everyone who works at DC, but I wouldn't, for one teeny, tiny second think that Time/Warner has anything even resembling my best interests at heart. The problem that I believe most people make is thinking that the individuals are the company. No. They work for the company, they may even guide the company, but that's the best you'll ever get. I tend to suspect that Paul Levitz is a really good boss: it sure looks like he'll give you enough rope to either hang yourself or go bungee-jumping, depending on your inclinations. At the least, he's put together a reasonably solid management team that can do their jobs reasonably correctly. What happens (God forbid) the day that Paul gets hit by a bus, though? And Time/Warner puts some suit who couldn't give a rat's ass about at least trying to put out good and diverse material, and sacks half of the staff (the good half)? That day will come. And while it might not be for 20 more years, that's the day we'll all find out that it's not the company, but the people behind it that are the "good" ones. This goes for all companies. There's no percentage, ever, in think a company is your friend or ally.

I'll be "nice" or "polite" or "friendly" to individuals. But to a company? Hah! Don't fool yourself, or you'll learn the hard way. You are inevitably a in a subordinate position when you deal with a company. No matter what you're promised, or are told, in the end you can be nothing more than a lackey, because, no matter who you are, and no matter what you do, you can be replaced.

So, what does that leave us with, you ask? I've long believed that our real future, our real hope is with the self-publishers, and creator-control. It's not that the self-publishers don't screw up, or lie to us, or do any of the things I'm constantly ragging about, but when they do, it's their ass on the line. If DC screws up on a title, well, DC keeps going on. However, if James Owen screws up on Starchild, it's not like he has 47 other projects to fall back on. The self-publishers, and creators in-control have something clearly and easily defined on the line: their honor, and their financial health. One person "in control" means one person to fix the problem, and one person to reap the penalties if things don't happen. These days, you can find dozens and dozens examples of creator-controlled projects, and that's where I'm going to put my bank. If Sin City doesn't come out on time, or is promoted poorly - it's Frank Miller's fault, not Dark Horse's. After all, Frank made the decision of who to work with, and how, and, while his instructions may not be followed to a "t", creator control implies creator-responsibility.

****

On a slightly similar tack, Larry Marder (all hail the Nexus!), Rick Vietch (the Rarebit fiend), and I came up with a new term at the Cap City show (and mucho thanks must go to Carol & Sonny Denbow of Starclipper in St. Louis for not only doing a self-publisher event in their store prior to the show, but for sponsoring the self-publisher suite during the show, so we had a place to come up with this stuff. Huzzah to the Starclippers!): Self-retailers.

Think about it a second.

Self-retailers.

If you've just got one store, and you're there, behind the counter day in, and day out, fighting directly on the front-lines, you're a self-retailer. If you know you're customers by name ("NNNNOOOORRRRRMMMMM!"), and you know what they like, and they trust you to steer them in the right direction in their quest for quality entertainment, then you're a self-retailer.

And, you know what? I think self-retailers are inherently superior than other retailers (ooooh, big shock that, eh?), because you've got a lot more at stake: it's your honor on the line, and when something goes wrong, it's your responsibility (not unlike the creator-control issue above).

Roll that around in your head for a little while, and lemme know what you think.

*****

Believe it or not, this all fits quite neatly into one world-view. Everything revolves around responsibility, both to yourself, your customers, and your peers. Frankly, I look forward to the day that I don't have to write this column anymore (what? You don't think I do it for fun do you? Hah!) - that's the day that the problems have all been solved, and there's no more windmills to tilt against. While my detractors may think I'm out to grind an axe, or fill an agenda, I do this job because of my deep and passionate love for it, and because I deeply believe that we have an obligation to make this industry a better place.

As I walked around the Cap City show I was struck by how many retailers were there not to learn; not to strive, not to add something to our industry; but to get some free stuff, to get autographs signed! "Wow," I overheard, "I got a Platinum Superman!" "I got an `ashcan' signed - I can sell this!" Yuck. I think it obvious that far to few of the retailers there, far too few of the people reading these words, are anything even resembling professionals.

The weekend before, I attended Pro/Con, the comic book professionals con, held in conjunction with WonderCon in Oakland. About 7 retailers came to this convention – and not one came to get autographs signed, or to kiss up to anyone: we came because we felt it important to show that retailers are just as much professionals in this business as creators, or anyone else. My original thought for this column was to exhort you to attend the next Pro/Con – to make an effort to show that the retail community wasn't as bass-ackwards as our reputation. But Comic Relief's Rory Root cautioned me: "If they throw the doors open to any retailer, invite them all to come, there'll be a lot of people attending who don't deserve to, who will turn this con from something positive, to just another comics convention", and, after the Cap City show, I'm not sure I disagree. (A slight digression, to clear the record once and for all: a lot of people out there seem to think that Rory and I are enemies of some kind. Nothing could be further from the truth. Rory's second store is located about 8 blocks away from mine, and he and I have nothing except the greatest respect for each others operations. If I don't have a comic, there's one place we automatically recommend, and that's Comic Relief - they do they same for us. That is a professional relationship! No feuding, no back-biting, but mutual respect, instead) I want retailers to be better represented at this type of event - to participate in making this industry better for us all. But I watch our collective behavior, our overall attitudes, and I fully understand why elements of the creative community are less than sanguine about inviting us into their sanctuary.

So tell me: are you wholly professional? Or are you just talking the talk? Do you attend conventions and trade shows because you want to make this business a better one, or are you trying to line your own pockets (and, not coincidentally, perpetuating the same elements that I've watched you rail against) with free books, and autographed items? Are you a pro, or are you a con?

Well, if it's "con", then I seriously don't know why you still bother to read this column - there's nothing I can say to you. But if it's a "pro", then I urge you to begin making plans now to attend Pro/Con 3, next April, in Oakland. It's time to stop messing around - it's time to declare your loyalties and allegiances because, if there's anything the last year has taught us is how fragile we all our - how elements out of our control can throw us out of business in a second.

Where do you stand? It's time to decide. Now.