Wednesday 22 June 2016

Storytelling in comic medium: part 2 - the Flow



One of the most interesting and unique aspects of comics is it's outright weird relationship between time and space. Most of other visual mediums have very fixed place in time.

Lucifer statue at Liege Cathedral, Belgium by
Guillaume Geefs
A statue stands still, like a silent witness of time that passes all around it.


"Nighthawks" by Edward Hopper
A painting is a window to another place, where time has frozen.


"the Secret of Kells"
Animation is another window, through which we see a series of images, presented fast enough that they create an illusion of movement - the passage of time. But it is still a window fixed in one place, a frame, like a monitor, or a screen in a movie theatre.


"Alieen" by Lewis Trondheim

And then there are comic books, like a weird little fellow, smack in the middle of all of them. The window have been broken, and all the images spilled out on the floor. Motionless, yet still making a notion of timelapse, because they don't move - WE have to move. From image to image, from window to window, in a fascinating land, where time walks hand in hand with space.

Most of the time the windows have a clear-cut reading order. But sometimes...

"A Tale of Sand" by Jim Henson, Jerry Juhl and Ramón K. Pérez

...the windows are buried in the shallow grave in the backyard, and what ensues is a truly spectacular and beautiful mess, where you don't know where time starts, and space begins.

You can't do that in any other medium.

All that is why a comic creator is not only a draftsmith and a scriptwriter, but also a designer. Like an illusionist, if you may, who always controls where the audience's eyes lie. But where a prestigitator controls observer's sight to deceive and obfuscate, the comic creator does the opposite - his or her goal is to engineer a clear pathway for the audience. From window to window, from character to speech bubble, from detail to scene overview. Because even a milisecond of hesitation from the reader, a shortest moment of thinking which panel to read next, can crumble his immersion and break the FLOW.

T-t-t-title droooop!


the Roadmap



As previously, we will use some of the early pages of the comic I'm currently working on to break everything down and ask ourselfes our two favourite questions:

WHY?

And

WHAT IF...?

By the way, you can see all of the pages here.



The main rule is very simple - here, in the western culture, we read from left to right and from top to bottom.

So here we are. Page 3 of "the Fourwall Tales: the Collector":




And here's our ideal roadmap of the flow:


It looks like dancing steps guideline sticked to the floor. One-two, cha-cha-cha! One-two, cha-cha-cha!

That's good, because reading a comic should have a rhytm to it.

But let's take a closer peek at some of the more interesting situations, with a picnic blanket and a basket full of questions.


Frame 1



The story of the frame is simple enough; our heroes have entered an abandoned village. Someone we yet don't see beckons them over with a theatrical whisper. They don't hear him because of the rain, so the two continue to banter.


The text-visual-text sandwich here isn't accidental. It creates a nice rhytm, also providing that the reader won't be stuck on text for too long and will run through the wide frame smoothly. 

But there is one "what if" that keeps bugging me off.


 Van (the knight) is facing left. His eyesight is a natural guideline for the reader's eye, pointing down to his action (splashing water). But this creates no natural pathway to his speech bubble, making it counterintuitive.




Let's consider what if Van would be facing right. Not only that would enhance the sense of him not hearing the hidden person (because his back is turned to the direction from which the speech bubble comes), but also the water splash naturally points right and up - the direction of our next stop.

Oh well, it's too late to fix that. Live and learn I guess.


Frames 5 & 6 




 Let's ask some more "whatifs".


The top-right corner of the fifth frame is empty, just begging to place the speech bubble there. Because you don't want to cover your gorgeous artwork, on which you slave over for hours upon hours, do you?

But by doing this you make it easier for the reader to miss the little guy in the distance, jumping straight to the next biggest image in a straight line.





Another scenario is to draw Van smaller in the sixth frame, so to create some free space above him for the speech bubble. It's a natural instinct to put text above characters. But here it would direct the reader to the top-right corner, which in the case of the last frame in the row is inconvinient. To reach the next row, the observer must backpeddle through what he/she already has seen. Which, ideally, should be avoided.




So this is the best scenario. The question mark is lower, creating a convinient path for our next stop (the guy is additionaly highlighted by some red lines to make sure he won't be omitted). And Van's text in the sixth frame is in the bottom-right corner, making it easy for the reader to jump to the next row below.


General rules of thumb


Direction of action



If you're doing a high pace action scene, it's a good idea for the characters to run from left to right, alongside reader's eyesight. That way observer flows naturally with the action and raises the tempo of reading.

Like petting an animal. Go with the fur, not against it.

But when you want to slow down the tempo, for example after an action scene, it's better for characters to go from right to left.


From action to reaction



Remember that in comics time is space, and space is time. That's why what reader sees first - happens first. Because of that rule it's more natural for the action to happen on the left (before the reaction), and the reaction on the right (after the action). Just like in real life.


From character to text



Character first. Then his speech bubble. That way the reader can put a face behind the words upon reading them, not retroactively after.


Natural guidelines



Characters' eyesight, pointing, body language and speech bubbles' tails are all natural guidelines for reader's road-eye-map. Put them to good use!


Closing thoughts


Except for the most vile mistakes in the flow, all of what I've written here is minute details, really. All this roadmap-eyesight-controlling-things won't make or break your comic. If your stuff have a good story and eyecandy art, but poorly planned roadmap, it won't suddenly turn rotten. And if your comic just plainly sucks, even the best flow won't magically make it better.

Also - sometimes you just can't win. Sometimes the story demands a scene or action that just won't cooperate and you shouldn't force it to. For example - characters pointing up or jumping are nightmares counterintuitive to the direction of reading (from top to bottom, not from bottom to top). If you try to draw them in some weird perspective just so they'll go with the plan, you might end up hurting the readability of the comic more than helping it.

But all in all, I strongly believe that thinking thouroughly about your work in space-time terms is what can turn a good comic into a great one. Because, as the polish saying goes:

The devil resides among the details.



Monday 23 May 2016

Storytelling in comic medium: part 1 - the Purpose


First things first - this is not a guide about how to write a good story.

If you already have a story, this is a guide about how to translate it into the medium of comic (or, for those of you who sport a monocle while sipping wine - medium of graphic novel). How to weave it out of comic's unique language, and establish a clear communication between the artist and the reader.

As examples we'll be using a couple of first pages from "the Fourwall Tales: Collector" - a comicbook I'm currently working on, which you can see right - HERE -.

Let's start with the most basic and most important rule. You can say it is somewhat of a motto of this guide, which we'll adhere to often:


QUESTION EVERYTHING YOU DO


Why this character is facing left in this panel? Why this panel is shaped like that? Why this speech bubble is placed here, and not there? Why characters run in that panel from left to right? What would it change if they would run from right to left? What is the purpose of this frame? What is the purpose of this scene? Why am I even telling this story? Why do I get up in the morning? What is the meaning of life? Why this guy started asking metaphorical questions?

As we continue to create, we often base our decisions on instinct, even without thinking about it. But when we start asking those questions, and seek the answers to them, then - and only then - we'll truly start to understand our medium.

If you're a beginner, don't worry if you don't know the answers to most of those questions right away. As you keep on drawing and questioning everything you do, you'll start figuring stuff out. The goal is so every single line you'll draw will have a purpose, and to catch all the answers to all the questions.



Like pokemon!

And who knows, maybe I'll anwser some of those questions for you right here.


the Big Picture


So ok, you have the main portion of your idea developed, or even the first draft of your script finished. This is the time to ask yourself: why do I even want to tell this story?

For "the Fourwall Tales: Collector" I have more than one answer:

1. I want to fill in the hole in Polish mainstream comics (which currently are very few of).
2. I want an introduction to the world of Fourwall - "Collector" is written with the thought that it'll be the first contact with Fourwall for majority of the readers.
3. I love drawing fantasy.
4. And I love drawing knights clad in armor made out of kitchen stuff.

Remember that there's not a bad answer, as long as it satisfies you. Not every comic can (and should) be drawn to change lifes and become a staple of modern culture. If you just want to draw a big monster rampaging through a city accompanied by a philharmony of explosions - and that's good enough for you - then, well, that's good enough!

Whatever you'll do, however underground or weird it is, if you love doing it and hone your skills, you'll find your audience sooner or later. Just look at all the horrible Sonic the Hedhehog fanarts. If those have their audience - you will too.



the Purpose of the scene


So we have the story. And we (ideally) know why we're telling it. What now?

Every comic is a compilations of scenes. Scenes are unveiled on pages, which are constructed from panels.

Easy!

For now, let's focus on the scenes.

Each scene should have its purpose by adding something to the overall story, which normally is at least one of those three:

1. To further the plot.
2. To develop the characters.
3. To set the mood of the narrative.

"Collector's" first scene, which's fragment we will examine closer shortly, does all of those three above. It's a classic begining of a fantasy tale - our characters arrive at an iffy place, we don't yet know who they are and why they are here. They meet a suspicious guy and follow him in a hope of finding some answers - as well for them, as for the audience.

In "Collector's" first scene, we'll further the plot by establishing the setting, by introducing the characters and giving them their first agenda (follow the guy to get some answers).

We'll develop the characters, even if ever so slightly - mainly by their gestures and how they react to the situation at hand, but we'll also learn why they came to this village.

And we'll lay some thick, juicy mood.


Kurt Vonnegut once wrote that you should start telling the story as close to it's ending as possible. I don't agree with that statement in all cases, but it comes true with this particular comic.

For example, at page 3 we'll learn that our characters came to this village, because they were directed here by a messenger sent from this small community, seeking help. But showing the scene of our heroes meeting that messenger is pointless. Entering the village is a great point to start spinning our tale, that gives us an opportunity to set the setting and the mood right from the get go.

It's as close to the ending as possible without making things confusing.


the Purpose of EVERYTHING


Everything indeed.

Not only scenes, but also each frame, speech bubble and even character's gesture should have its purpose. So let's throw around some why?s.

PAGE 1


For me, this is a perfect first page for a fantasy comic, especially with the previously stated purpose of it being a reader's first contact with the world of Fourwall. In only a single page we get to establish the setting and the characters.



Why the first frame is so big? - To pull the reader into the rich world and invite him/her to get a closer look and study it for a while before moving forward. We see some kind of a village - it seems medieval - but the presence of the kitchen utensils and furniture in the architecture signals that it's not your typical fantasy setting.

As a cherry on top, the establishing text is stylised as an old papyrus, a staple of every fantasy story.


I don't know how about you, but I draw fantasy only so I can draw some papyrus. Make its edges torn, let it twirl on both ends, slap some text on that baby! Wooo!

I love it.



On the second frame we get to see our main duo, which we'll accompany throughout the whole story.

Why the close-up? - To get a good look at our characters. And if the reader only caught a glimpse of the first frame, without studying it and noticing the kitchen stuff - now it's presence is unmissable - the armor made out of a large fork and pots, a kettle serving as a helmet. Now the reader surely knows what's he/she's in for.

Why no background? - So all the focus can go directly to characters, without any distractions.


PAGE 2


We got at least somewhat of an idea of the setting. Now let's lay down some mood.



Characters enter the village.

Why this is seen from afar? - To emphasize the emptiness of the village. Seeing the environment from bird's perspective invites the reader to focus on the space and the scene as a whole - not the characters. Now I think I could take the "camera" even farther, to empower the feeling of emptiness even more.

Why Van (the knight) looks up? - Even the smallest gestures can develop the characters. As you'll see later, Van is energetic and childlike. He looks around curiously, and his body language suggests impatience. While Mhirvel (the umbrella girl) is calm and collected, with lots of experience under her belt. She doesn't look around much and has a deadpan look on her face, as to say that creepy villages doesn't affect her too much.



Now we get to see the village through our character's eyes. We still don't know why they're here, but now we get the feeling that something's off. A crudely bared window. A broken flowerpot. An abanoned cart. Snails everywhere, everything overgrown with mushrooms. A weird, lonely statue (that also serves nicely as a transitions for the next frame).

Those three frames also greatly lower the pace of the story. Nothing is happening. And that's what we want. A slow and atmospheric beginning.

No dialogue up until know emphasizes the grim mood.

And if we talk grim, nothing beats rain!



Van - hands on hips, still looking around.

Mhirvel - Contemplating the statue with a calm look on her face, arms crossed.

Those are another lil' tips for a careful reader about our characters.


- - - - -

So this is it for today! Pretty basic stuff. But next time we'll have something more advanced. Throughout this guide we will talk about the flow and in-panel composition, about page layout, dialogues and who knows? Maybe even more.