Being Me, Myself.

The Long Journey

By Ife J. Ibitayo

I still remember a conversation I had with a comic book creator I’ll call Leo. The quality of his detailed frescoes, his sharp dialogue, and his imaginative world building drew me to his booth at Los Angeles Comic Con. And as an aspiring comic book creator myself, I asked him what his experience had been like.

With weariness in his voice, described how tough the journey had been. Looking at the swath of popular indie comic book series he and his team had created over the course of a decade, I’d imagined that he of all people would be happy with the empire his hands had built. But he told me, “Sometimes, when I compare my journey to that of the friends I went to college with, I see their success, their families, and their money, and I wonder if I made the right choice.”

He spread his arms out to encompass his fellow comic book creators and said, “There are many people who come into this space, stick around for a year or two, then fizzle out. But those who’ve stuck around for 3, 5, or even 10 years, they’re the veterans. The only metric that matters here is time.” Yeah, that was not the most encouraging welcome I’ve received!

The Road not Taken

In the past year I’ve entered a new artistic community, founded a company, and created my first comic book. But I also quit my job, moved across the country, and took on student loans. In one of my first classes as an MBA student, I learned about a concept known as economic cost. Economic cost doesn’t just include the cost of choosing a particular choice. It also includes the cost of not choosing the alternative. And my alternative was pretty tempting.

I was an engineer working for a good company with a good salary surrounded by a good community living in a good city. The path forward may not have been easy (engineering rarely is), but it was relatively straightforward. The potential for management in my company, leadership in my church, and stability for my family all lay before me. But I sacrificed that to pursue my God-given dream.

And the key question that presents itself to me nearly every day is: Was it worth it?

A Fork in the Road

Jesus Himself told a story about this dilemma: “‘Which of you, wishing to build a tower, does not first sit down and count the cost to see if he has the resources to complete it? Otherwise, if he lays the foundation and is unable to finish the work, everyone who sees it will ridicule him, saying, “This man could not finish what he started to build.”’” This very question has consumed my thoughts in recent days: “Will we be able to finish what we started?”

Conclusion

I’ve had to ask myself whether or not we would let this Kickstarter mark the end of our journey or its beginning. We are nearly finished with the first issue in our three-part series. But years lay ahead to finish the other two. The path to completion is muddled and many questions lie ahead. But I’ve counted the cost, and Lord-willing, I want to see this through to the end.

Let My People Ball Kickstarter September 7th — Let My People Ball Kickstarter Progress as of September 7th, 2023.

Our Kickstarter for the first issue of Let My People Ball is live from August 15th, 2023 to September 14th, 2023. If you’re as captured by the vision as we are, you can support us here: https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/let-my-people-ball-1/the-biballical-chronicles-let-my-people-ball-issue-1

The Long Middle

By Ife J. Ibitayo

A Kickstarter launch is like the start of a new relationship. The hot rush of anticipation and trepidation flooded my system as I embarked on this exciting adventure. Everyone I know and even some people I don’t took notice as we blasted off.

But like all glittery new things, my Kickstarter too has grown a little old. A couple weeks in, the initial adrenal rush of backers has puttered out; the money has dried up; and I’m left with a gap to fill both temporally and financially. When this moment arrived, I knew I’d hit the Long Middle of my campaign.

The Kickstarter Stages of Grief

To continue with the relationship metaphor, the Long Middle can be like a very painful, very visible breakup. The world watches as you flail about, trying to salvage the sinking ship of your grandiose ideals of instant fame and fortune. (Well, as much fame and fortune as 500 fans and $5,000 dollars can get you.) You’ll tailspin through the stages of grief:

Denial—“There’s no way this will fail. God won’t let this fail. I won’t let this fail. No matter what, we’ll find a way to make this work.”

Anger—“How could this be happening to me? I did everything right! I don’t deserve this!”

Bargaining—“If only I’d spent more time on this, tried a little harder, done a little more, we wouldn’t be here.”

Depression—“We’re never going to make it. It’s all over.”

I’m pretty sure I’d already hit all these major notes by Day 2.

While this might sound a little premature, I think that we all spend most of our lives navigating this nebulous gray region that is the Long Middle. Life is not so much full of beginnings and endings as it is middles. Our new job, new spouse, and new child will all eventually become just our job, spouse, and child. The newness will fade, and we will have to grapple with the choices we’ve made that led to where we are today.

When the new inevitably grows old, we have a very important question to answer, will we thrash or will we trust?

Thrashing vs. Trusting

I, for one, have spent a lot of time thrashing. I think to myself, if I send out one more post or release one more TikTok video or email one more influencer, maybe that’ll unlock the key to reaching our funding goal. Many of my friends have been quick to correct me saying, “That’s not thrashing, that’s hustling. You got to do what you’ve got to do.” But when my project makes me have trouble falling asleep at night, and I find myself contemplating it as soon as I wake up in the morning, and I feel guilty stepping away from my computer during the day, I don’t think there’s a meaningful distinction between the two. It’s far less about what I do and far more about how I feel.

Conversely, trust is not a cessation of activity, but finding peace in the midst of it. In the words of an Old Testament prophet, “Blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in Him. They will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit” (Jeremiah 17:7-8). Or to put it in the slightly more modern terms of the Philadelphia 76ers, “Trust the process.”

Conclusion

With less than two weeks left to go in our Kickstarter campaign, I’m still holding out hope that we can make our dream a reality. And I’m continuing to work toward that goal every day. But I’m trying to strive toward it from a place of faith over fear and by trusting rather than thrashing.

Let My People Ball Kickstarter Progress as of August 24th, 2023.

Start the Presses

By Ife J. Ibitayo

If raising money in this day and age is tough, getting attention is excruciating. Having blogged for years to my small but mighty band of subscribers, I’ve been tempted to conclude that I’ve been shouting into the void. Or, as the late great Samuel Coleridge put it, there’s “water, water everywhere, but not a drop to drink.”

Start the Articles

The art of getting attention is alchemical in nature, a mixture of science and magic that boggles the brain, frustrates all formulas, and defies duplication. I’ve learned this is the hard way in the comic book space. There are only so many outlets that cover indie comics, and even those that do have only so much reach. The comic-book equivalent of The Rolling Stones and Vogue is hard to identify, and if found, they’re not going to be talking about your indie Kickstarter.

The Pullbox Preview: Let My People Ball Prologue — Our very first press response!
Credit: The Pullbox

Start the Follows

The flip side of this is developing an organic following through the power of social media. I’ve heard so-called marketing gurus recommend, “Find your crowd and craft your message to match that audience.” But that guidance sniffs of the inauthentic. it feels like trying to snap off a piece of your soul and wrap it up in a pretty box so that other people will devour it. And with that kind of dubious outlook on Instagram and TikTok, you could imagine how that journey has gone for me.

But in the midst of this Kickstarter, I’ve had to remind myself why I leapt into the publishing industry in the first place: Because I love telling stories.

Don’t Stop the Stories

I was a Toy Story kid. I played with action figures and wind-up contraptions long after many of my classmates had grown out of them. I had narratives that needed to be expressed via mouthed sound effects and flying plastic playthings.

I scribbled down short stories, mixed together beats, and cobbled up dance videos long before that became vogue because I’ve always enjoyed sharing my creations with the world.

Conclusion

I have not figured out the best way to reach people yet. I might not go viral anytime soon or become the next overnight internet sensation. But I will continue striving to get my work out there. Because as much as I love creating art for myself and art “for art’s sake”, nothing quite compares to making other people feel deeply. And if I can have the privilege of making even one more person feel deeply, I will continue to wrestle with this inscrutable beast called the internet.

Our Kickstarter for the first issue of Let My People Ball is live from August 15th, 2023 to September 14th, 2023 and can be accessed here: https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/let-my-people-ball-1/the-biballical-chronicles-let-my-people-ball-issue-1

Come Fund Me

By Ife J. Ibitayo

As a child, I never went door-to-door to “Save the Whales”. And for slightly more obvious reasons, you’d never find me selling Girl Scout cookies. Charity was something I gave (out of my $10 a month allowance), not something I received. But then I grew up, started a company, and realized that fundraising is probably my most important job of all. And the wellspring for any successful fundraiser begins with friends and family.

Let My People Ball Kickstarter Launch — Let My People Ball Kickstarter Page on Launch

Hey Friend!

In the weeks leading up to our first Kickstarter, I made a comprehensive list of all the friends I’ve accumulated over the years. As the list ballooned into the hundreds, I realized that there was one profound benefit that had arisen from having moved every few years since childhood: I had come to know and be known by a lot of people. A few of these friends I’ve remained in contact with throughout the years. But most of my conversations began a bit like this:

Hello Mrs. Jackson! I was a student in your English class in middle school! I know it’s been a decade since we last spoke, but…

Hey Chris! I heard about the new job! It’s awesome to see that you’re finally pursuing your dream! You know I also recently made a career change…

Hi Marisol! Congrats on the new baby! Do you want to know what I’ve been working on for the past 9 months…

Alright, my words might not have been so tongue-in-cheek, but it felt pretty darn close sometimes.

Will You Fund Me?

I was reaching out to people who I used to have a meaningful connection to long ago. But the sands of time had eroded our friendship over the years. Before each text, Facebook message, or email I wondered if many of these people would even remember me, or worse still I worried if my outreach would destroy any vestige of goodwill that might have lasted between us.

But instead of my deep-seated fears, the overwhelming response was deeply encouraging. From grad school, college, high school, and even touching back to elementary, friends of mine acknowledged my plea. They hadn’t forgotten me and further, they were happy to contribute to my vision.

Conclusion

One of the greatest highlights of this Kickstarter campaign has simply been the opportunity to reconnect. Some of my friends have changed drastically over the years. They’re living in new states with new careers and young families. But still much has remained the same. I had the opportunity to commiserate with a number of my rekindled compadres over our shared memories and made up a tiny bit for the lost time between us. And if nothing else arises from this venture, I’m eternally grateful for that.

Our Kickstarter for the first issue of Let My People Ball is live from August 15^th, 2023 to September 14^th, 2023 and can be accessed here: https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/let-my-people-ball-1/the-biballical-chronicles-let-my-people-ball-issue-1

Let My People Ball Kickstarter Just Launched!

Kickstarting a Dream

By Ife J. Ibitayo

Having found the illustrator I’d been so desperately searching for, I was back in action! I was setting milestones, approving drawings, and spending money—lots of it. As my bank account plunged toward zero, I knew my next order of business was finding a way to pay for this massive project I was undertaking. But few appealing options presented themselves.

The Road Not Taken

I could try to find a traditional publisher like Simon & Schuster. But the thought of trying to convince a literary agent to try to persuade a traditional publisher to potentially pay me a reasonable advance seemed both daunting and time consuming. Months would pass before I even had the opportunity to begin The Biballical Chronicles in earnest, and that’s assuming one of the few gatekeepers was willing to take a chance on a green comic book creator like me.

Or I could try to find a comic book publisher like Image. But that felt like a nightmare wrapped in a fool’s errand trapped inside a moonshot. Not only was it incredibly difficult, the number of horror stories I’d heard about comic book deals made my skin crawl. Somehow, I had to launch out on my own and find a way to convince people to pay me money to do so.

Kickstarter’s Well Known Logo.
Source: Kickstarter; Credit: Kickstarter

Convincing a Skeptic

The premise of Kickstarter is brilliant in its simplicity. You create a project, set a time-bound monetary goal, and anyone with a credit card can fund you in exchange for cool rewards.

However, in practice, Kickstarter seemed to be a place where many naive creators had their dreams crushed and many gullible consumers had their money stolen. I’d never really viewed Kickstarter as a viable business model until I attended a panel on it at Los Angeles Comic Con. I heard Brittany Chapman-Holman (“Mother of Frankenstein”), Sean Persaud (“Shipwrecked Comedy”), and Anjali Bhimani (“I am Fun Size, and So Are YOU!”) describe their own Kickstarter experiences. They had raised tens of thousands of dollars, delivered rewards to hundreds of paying customers, and somehow lived to tell the tale.

After taking a copious amount of notes from these seasoned veterans, my three main takeaways were: First, there are nearly infinite ways to ruin a Kickstarter. From unreachable goals to unrealistic timelines, you didn’t need to look far to find a graveyard littered with the carcasses of Kickstarters gone awry.

Second, even when executed correctly, a successful Kickstarter requires a tremendous amount of work and forethought. Planning one of these was not for the faint of heart.

Third, despite the risk and toil, it can be a win-win for both the creator who’s raising the money and the community that pays for it.

Conclusion

That last point shattered my preconceived notions like a bat to a fine china collection. The knowledge that a dedicated, passionate creator like me could form an audience of passionate, paying followers renewed my hope that I could transform my dream into a reality. Now all I had to do was convince hundreds of people that I was making something worth buying.

Finding Milo

By Ife J. Ibitayo

If insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result, I was clinically diagnosable by March 1^st of 2023. Out of options and out of time, I decided to give Upwork one final chance to help me find an illustrator before I went back to the drawing board. I created a new job listing, paid to have my post featured, and waited.

Within days, even more job applications began to flood in—dozens of them. I spent hours scrolling through portfolios and setting up Zoom interviews until an Upwork “Talent Specialist” connected me with one particular artist named Milo.

The Sample

From the first time I laid eyes on his portfolio, I knew there was something promising there. We jumped on a phone call together and quickly hit it off. As I discussed my vision for telling “meaning-filled” stories, he said he’d especially resonated with that line because as an LGBTQ+ creator, diversity of representation was very important to him.

And so we hammered out a timeline, and I anxiously waited for the sample that would determine our future together, or apart.

We started working together early in the week and set the first milestone for Friday. But Friday came and went without an update. As I stewed over the weekend, I began to have second thoughts. Would this initial communication snafu be indicative of the rest of our relationship?

And secondly, I’d been hoping to work with someone who shared the same faith as I did on The Biballical Chronicles because of…well, the subject matter. But Milo possessed a wildly different way of looking at the world than I did.

When the following week rolled around, I was about ready to throw in the towel. But then I saw the preliminary colored sketch Milo had drawn, and I was blown away. I viscerally felt like I was seeing the visible manifestation of my idea even at that stage of development. To put it simply, he got it.

Milo Sample — Milo’s First Colored Sketch for *Let My People Ball*

The “Break”

Conflicted, I called Milo up and told him that I’d need a couple of weeks to think about it. A few days later, I flew home for Spring Break from my graduate school program. Though, to call it a “break” might be a bit of a stretch. I spent many afternoons deep in prayer, wrestling with this decision. I phoned friends and family members as I weighed the pros and cons. Months, even years, of my future were contingent on this partnership and so were thousands of dollars in my bank account.

As endless doubts wrapped around me like choking tendrils, the drawing Milo had sent me was like a north star—a lighthouse in the middle of a sea of uncertainty. Somehow we’d bridged the chasm between our vastly different worldviews, and I saw the potential to make something beautiful together.

The Call

As my Spring “Break” wound down, I gave Milo a call. Hopeful yet tentative, I asked him if he was still willing and available to work on my project. And so, on March 27^th, 2023, I finally found my illustrator for The Biballical Chronicles.

Upwork Didn’t Work

By Ife J. Ibitayo

“That’s great and all,” he said, waving his hand in the air as if he was dispelling a bad odor. “But I’ve been in the comic book industry a long time, and there are three things people need.”

I was sitting across from a man I’ll call Ahmed who I’d been talking to about my vision of starting a company in the comic book industry. Fingering his palm with each idea he listed, Ahmed said, “One, they access to money because well…” And I nodded along, not needing him to explain why “starving artists” needed more cash.

“Two,” he continued, “they need access to publishers. Three, they need access to one another.” And he went on to describe how easy it was for him as an industry insider to find an illustrator for one of his projects but how difficult it was for everyone else. And something of that last idea remained with me as I struggled to find an illustrator for my own comic book project.

Working through Upwork

February had already rolled around, and I was beginning to grow discouraged. But I created an Upwork account, published a job post, and waited for the applications to start flowing in.

Within a few weeks, I’d received a number of proposals, and most of them were underwhelming. I ran into the same issues I’d encountered on Instagram, illustrators without the right style, the right experience, or the right attention to detail (you’d be amazed how many applicants apply to jobs without reading the job description!).

But there were two promising leads. The first was from a man I’ll call James. Talking to him felt like interacting with an alternate reality version of myself. He was a fellow engineer who’d quit his job to pursue his dream of telling “meaning-filled” stories. We even graduated from the same university within a couple years of each other!

The first sample I ever received for *Let My People Ball*.
Source: Ife J. Ibitayo.

Our chemistry was palpable, and the process of obtaining a sample page from him was seamless. But when I saw the final result, I was underwhelmed. The page was beautifully colored, but it just did not fit my vision for my comic book. So with much regret, I asked if I could reach out to him as a potential colorist and kept on searching.

The second artist, who I’ll call Alejandro, was the opposite. The quality of his drawings were unmistakable, but his sample page was simply confusing. I held up my script, compared it to his drawing, and struggled to reconcile the two. So, with great disappointment, I let him go as well.

Let My People Ball Sample 2 — The second sample I received for *Let My People Ball*. Even today, I can’t quite make sense of everything going on in each of these scenes. Source: Ife J. Ibitayo.

Conclusion

So after burning a month of time and a molehill of cash, Upwork hadn’t worked for me. And I was beginning to doubt whether or not I’d be able to make this comic book vision of mine into a reality any time soon.

An Eternity on Instagram

By Ife J. Ibitayo

Tobi had promised me it’d be easy. Log on to Instagram. Spend a few hours scrolling through posts until you find a handful of illustrators you like. Fire off some DMs. And when one finally responds, you have yourself a comic book artist. But the reality was not nearly as seamless as he made it sound.

The hours crawled by as I tried every hashtag I could muster to find the right artist to partner with. #christiancomicbookartist #christianillustration #historicalgraphicnovels #helpme

If it wasn’t one problem, it would be another. They wouldn’t possess the right style. Or they wouldn’t accept commissions. Or they had experience with every medium under the sun except comic books. And if ever the stars aligned so that all of these previous boxes were actually checked off, they’d ghost me like the Phantom of the Opera.

Instagram Comic Artist Scrolling Session — A typical afternoon Instagram scrolling session.
Source: Instagram; Credit: Ife J. Ibitayo

The Coup de Grace for Instagram

I remember one particularly discouraging interaction I had with a fellow I’ll call Matthew. On one of my seemingly endless Instagram scrolling sessions, I stumbled across his artwork, and I instantly felt a connection. He’d drawn a scene of David transitioning from meager shepherd boy to powerful warrior king. It was vibrant and colorful comic book style with clear Christian undertones. Then I clicked on to his Instagram page and found an up-to-date website with contact information. And when I filled out the form, he responded within twenty-four hours.

I felt like I had just won the lottery! We set up a phone call and bonded over a shared vision. Then I sent him a non-disclosure agreement and payment terms, excited to embark on a new journey together in 2023. But he vanished like smoke. Weeks passed, and my emails remained unanswered. It was like calling out into the void. I was back to square one.

Conclusion

Entering the new year empty handed, I knew I’d have to change tactics. Social media wasn’t the answer for me, but I was praying something else would be.

While attending LA Comic Con the previous month, I’d spent a few minutes chatting with an amazing independent comic book creator. He was a writer, like me, without an ounce of drawing capability in his body. And he practically gushed over his experience forming a team of artists to work with using an online freelance marketplace called Upwork. So I decided that that would be my next pit stop.

My first, but definitely not my last, trip to LA Comic Con.

So You Want to Write a Script?

By Ife J. Ibitayo

The zeroth step of creating a comic book is writing its script. This document is where dozens of striking art panels and hundreds of clever speech bubbles are born. As an experienced science fiction prose writer, I reasoned that I would be well equipped to write a humorous historical script. But after a week of research into the subject, I was baffled by the amount of “unnecessary” structure that goes into screenwriting.

In the novelized form of Romeo & Juliet, Romeo sneaks into the Capulet’s family orchard. Placing his very heart in his hands, he lifts his head and cries to Juliet’s window, “But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks?”

But in the script version, you have to first explain that the scene is “Capulet’s Orchard”. Then you have to describe the orchard itself. Then you have to denote that Romeo is speaking. Then you have to…can you imagine how such tedium can dam up even the most powerful flow?

Romeo and Juliet Script Excerpt — An example of the formatting that goes into the screenplay for *Romeo and Juliet*.
Source: Chandler Unified School District; Credit; Shakespeare

In prose, the inner thought life of your characters is visible, all extraneous details are implied, and the formatting is loose and simple. But in a script, all these rules are reversed. As soon as I opened a fresh Word document, writer’s block smothered me like a heavy blanket.

“Do I indent this line once or twice? Is this one bold or italicized?” I muttered my way through my first frustrating hour. And by the end of my maddening day, I was already ready to throw in the towel. I knew there was no way I would finish anything worthwhile at this rate.

But You Can’t Write It on Your Own

The creative side of my brain had already gone to bed for the night, but the problem-solving side was still wide awake. So I turned to Google convinced that there must be some software out there to hold my hand through this painful process. And to my relief, there was!

From scene setting to dialogue, parentheticals, and every other jargony screenwriting term I’d encountered, StudioBinder had me covered. And the very best news, it was free for my first script!

Let My People Ball Script Excerpt — Let My People Ball Script excerpt using StudioBinder software.
Source: Ife J. Ibitayo; Credit: Ife J. Ibitayo.

Conclusion

With renewed vigor, I spent the next three months writing Let My People Ball. On countless afternoons, I’d lay claim to my small cubicle at the library and tap away at my computer as I honed my story. I’d open my Bible to confirm important story beats, and I’d surf the web for credible historical information about Egypt’s New Kingdom—which was in power during the time of Moses.

When December of last year rolled around, just in time for Christmas, I gave myself the only present I really wanted—a finished draft! I excitedly sent it to a screenwriting friend of mine to ensure I hadn’t wasted a quarter of my year in vain. And with 2023 fast approaching, I began to search for the perfect illustrator to bring my project to life.

Entering the World of Comic Books in 80 Days

Ife J. Ibitayo

With an idea marinating in my head and hope germinating in my heart, I flew out to Los Angeles. And my first order of business was finding some people in animation to talk to. Well, besides moving into my new apartment, getting situated to a new city, and renewing my mindset as a student. But less than 80 days later, I was sitting across from a man I’ll call Tobi. He was a foul-mouthed, clean-shaven, middle-aged Nigerian who’d successfully launched his own animation studio. Feeling like I’d just hit the interviewee jackpot, I excitedly explained to him my vision of telling “meaning-filled stories”.

Coming Down to Earth

But he rubbed the back of his neck and said, “You know how expensive animation is? I’ve been in the business a long time, and even twelve minutes of quality video is going to run you hundreds of thousands of dollars. You’re going to have to find someone to pay you to do it.”

He scrolled through the work he’d completed for some of the biggest entertainment companies in the business until he finally arrived at an original project. It was a paranormal romance he’d crowdfunded as a comic book, even though he ran an animation company. He explained, “Original work is tough to get out there, even for someone like me. But you may just be able to get your project off the ground if you start with a comic.”

Skyward Volume 1 by Image Comics — This book pretty much singlehandedly changed my view of the narrative power of comic books.
Source: Amazon; Credit: Image Comics

Preparing for Liftoff

I didn’t grow up reading comics. My older brother ate up comic books while I kept my head buried in prose fiction. It wasn’t until adulthood that I rediscovered comic books anew. In late 2020, I purchased a comic book bundle off the internet that included the science fiction graphic novel, Skyward: My Low G Life, about a teenager growing up on an earth with a fraction of the gravity that our planet currently has.

Up until that day, I had never appreciated comic books as a serious medium for storytelling. I was familiar with superhero tales and other well-known IP like Star Trek and G.I. Joe, but I’d never read an original story that so gracefully leveraged the power of comic books as a means of visual storytelling. And that was when my eyes were opened to the great potential of that medium.

Reaching for the Sky (Again)

Initially, I was hesitant. I’d hoped to transition from the literary world into TV & Films, not cross back into it. But I realized that as a science fiction writer myself, a comic book might be the perfect medium to explore the intersection of writing and visual art.

As Tobi finished showing me his own graphic novel, he said, “It wasn’t hard. All I had to do was find a ghostwriter and an illustrator. I hit them up on social media, and a few months later, I had my comic book.”

And with that encouragement, I embarked on what was supposed to be one of the “easiest” creative projects of my life.