On this final blog post, I would like to discuss Ryan North’s Dinosaur Comics (a collection of comics using the same images but varying text) and how it relates to Lee Atchison’s “The Third Age of Webcomics”.

Technically speaking, Dinosaur Comics began in 2003, placing it near the end of Atchishon’s described “Second Age of Webcomics”. However, given the fact that it belongs on its own website and not on a website hosting webcomics from many authors like Keenspace, it is questionable whether more fitting to place it in the late Second Age (where non-technology-based comics began to get more popular) or in the Third Age, where contact with the audience becomes more common. In fact, the very fact that there exists a comic (and likely other comics) that cannot easily be wholly placed in either age suggests that the line drawn between these ages is blurry.

            Regardless, Dinosaur Comics appears to be an excellent example for many of the characteristics of Third Age that Atchison describes. Atchison notes that most webcomics follow the print format, as opposed to Scott McCloud’s vision of the “infinite canvas”; Dinosaur Comics always follows its rectangular six-panel format.

Atchison states that webcomics that update regularly are most likely to be popular; Dinosaur Comics updates at least once every three days.

Atchison remarks that readers care little for art style, and that some authors can get away with repeated pastes of the same graphics. He references Red Meat as an example, but Dinosaur Comics takes this to the extreme by reusing the same graphics for practically every comic, varying little but the text.

            Still, Atchison notes that it is storyline and long-term plots that create the strongest readerbase, and although that cannot be denied, I believe that he is too dismissive of joke-oriented and “quick”, non-plot comics and their ability to spread. These popular comics can be more easily shared than plot-oriented comics. Dinosaur comics is able provide thought-provoking ideas that require little background to understand, and that has undeniable cultural value. Even if the name and the characters fade from the reader’s memory, the topics and ideas that it introduces and ripples outwards as the reader interacts with other people.

Let us discuss today Osvaldo Oyola’s “The Pleasure of the Serial Comic Book” and how it relates to the webcomic Homestuck by Andrew Hussie. Homestuck is a webcomic about a group of children playing a video game that warps reality around them.

Oyola’s article discusses the virtues of “indefinite” comic series: stories that, as she describes, are “without end” and are simultaneously “acting as if some indefinite, but inevitable, end will come”. This is contrasted with more modern comics, which she observes are encouraged to advance plot towards an ending, thus making for a relatively short comic. She discusses her deep disappointment at the announcement that a long-running comic she was following will soon end.

Homestuck embodies the “indefinite” comic series. While the premise of Homestuck promises at the end of its grand story the end of the game, there is no rush to get there. In a story whose narrative travels across planets in space and across various timelines, it takes 46 pages for John, the first protagonist, to leave his bedroom.

It takes a total of 136 pages for the main character to start the game. Along the way, there is no hesitation to stop John from playing with things in his room. On his way to the kitchen, where the game disc is, the story pauses as John struggles the fix an urn he spilled, and those attempts are paused to check out a present in the living room, and those attempts are paused to check on his computer. But surely enough, the present is opened, the urn is fixed, and the game disc is retrieved.

The joy behind these long-running stories is the fact that they function as windows to another reality. So long as the story continues, the joy that readers feel as they feast on every detail and every word to construct a world from their limited sources also continues. So long as more content is promised, readers are uncertain if their view of the world is accurate, much like the uncertainty in our world. It makes the setting more real.

But when the story ends, and all cards are on the table, the illusion is shattered. The reader knows that the world ends when they finish the story. There is no new content to give older content new meaning. The story is nothing more than a sequence of events set in stone.

Today, I would like to discuss both the online and book form of Allie Brosh’s Hyperbole and a Half, a collection of partially exaggerated life stories from the author. Both are a combination of simple drawings and casually written text, making the stories seem like they are relayed from one close friend to the other.

            The book was made after the online version, and consists of the same stories, plus a few bonus stories. Notably, even when given the opportunity to remake the images or revise the text, Brosh chooses not to do so. Nothing is “remastered” or “reimagined”, because doing so would erase the metastory of Allie Brosh the blogger and replace it with the unfamiliar Allie Brosh the writer. The web experience includes seeing Brosh finding her voice and style of storytelling, and the book keeps that in its entirety. Thus, content-wise, the print and digital stories are identical.

            The book, being far more equal to web version that the Homestuck book is to its web version, serves far better as a replacement for the web version. Still, there are differences, which largely lie in the order in which the reader browses the stories. The design of the book medium encourages the reader to reach in the sequence the stories are arranged; there is only one convenient path to follow. Brosh was aware of this, as evidenced by the fact that the stories are deliberately ordered so introductions to characters (like Murphy, her old family dog) come before they are mentioned in later stories.

Meanwhile, the web version has multiple paths to follow. Readers can choose to read from oldest posts to newest posts, and largely get the same experience as in the book. Or, if the reader is new, they may elect to read the newest posts first, where Brosh has had more time to hone her storytelling skills, before deciding that they like her storytelling stories and delve into older works. For people who are just cruising by, and are strapped for time, Brosh conveniently leaves a “best of” list on the right-hand side, so readers can get the most out of their time. The freedom to explore makes the reading experience feel more like an adventure, which readers trade away the tangibility of a book for.

Today, I’d like to discuss Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal, by Zach Weinersmith. The webcomic is a collection of short, humorous strips, each one unrelated to the next. Specifically, I would like to discuss its relation to Nami Kitsune Hatfield’s “Transforming Spaces”, where Hatfield discusses the needs to realize transgender empowerment and representation. Hatfield notes that empowering the transgender community means not only including transgender people in works, but allowing them as an audience to contribute to works meant to empower them. This means connecting the audience to the author, to the work, and to each other.

Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal connects its audience through the platforms it releases its content. Below each comic on the website is a bar for sharing the comic on various social media.

I would specifically like to point out the link to Reddit, which is a medium that allows comments and discussion in an organized fashion below a post, making it easy to view material and discuss it quickly afterwards. This allows readers to easily communicate with each other, and for the author to read about feedback for individual comics easily. It also helps obtain new readers who may stumble upon it when using Reddit.

The Forums for Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal allow for even more active discourse. This is an environment dedicated solely for fans of the webcomic. It allows readers who may idly scroll through strips alone to check the forums and find people who share at least one similar interest, and find that they are not alone. There is not much author input in these forums, and in that way it is different from Hatfield’s ideals. However, it still builds a community of people who may otherwise find it difficult to contact each other. Thus, even if the forum method is used here as simply nice bonus content, it could and should be adapted for groups that have historically found it difficult to find each other. As Hatfield states, one of the plights that a member of the transgender community suffers is the feeling that they are alone in their identity; a forum could help soothe that worry.

Hatfield, N. K. (2015). TRANSforming Spaces: Transgender Webcomics as a Model for Transgender Empowerment and Representation within Library and Archive Spaces. Queer Cats Journal of LGBTQ Studies, 1(1).

Today, I’d like to continue discussing The Loneliest Astronauts, a webcomic by Kevin Church and Ming Doyle about two astronauts lost in space with nothing to do but shenanigans. Specifically, I’d like to discuss its relationship with the points brought up in Janice Radway’s Reading the Romance. Radway discusses that many women read as a way of compensating for what reality cannot offer them. That is, reading is a way of escaping the pressures of life, a way of gaining privacy in a world where women are expected to be social, and a way of gaining emotional support and a sense of community in a world where support networks for women are gradually weakening.

I believe that most people read The Loneliest Astronauts and other similar comics for similar reasons. Specifically, the idea of a world where there is nothing to do and everything is simple is a nice break from an increasingly complex reality. Additionally, the exploration of boredom allows the readers to leave the webcomic feeling grateful that they have greater freedom than Dan and Steve, and more people to talk to. That is, they feel grateful for what they originally sought to escape and are more willing to make the most of what they have.

My evidence for this claim is the popularity of strips that more powerfully evoke this sense of gratefulness, or make use of comedy in a simple world. This is in contrast to the more complex strips near the end, which although flesh out the characters more, ceases to provide the escape that the readers read for. These more complex strips are not as popular as the simpler ones.

            The above strip is an example of evoking a sense of gratefulness. The reader can leave the world, knowing that they are not subject to the same imprisonment as these astronauts. The strip is more popular, as evidenced by the relatively high 74 comments.

            The first two panels are another example of evoking a sense of gratefulness for reality. The last panel is an example of idyllic simplicity, a world where there are no responsibilities.

This strip is a later one, and is far more complicated. Despite the arguably high quality of the content, it is not what the readers came here for, and the results show; this strip and many others like it sport only one comment and little activity.

            The presentations of February 8^th have demonstrated various ways that webcomic authors can make money. Here, I would like to discuss these various methods, and their implications.

            The presentation on Lunarbaboon, for example, discusses generating revenue by selling merchandise and taking donations through Patreon in return for bonus content. The revenue is used to support the production of the comic and allowed the author to quit his job and take making his comic as his main source of income. This strategy is common for content creators, and necessitates the continued relevance of the comic.

            Selling merchandise is especially effective because it allows the buyer to physically display their love for the comic. Merchandise is also useful as gifts to other readers to the comic. In both cases, buyers are happy to give money for something tangible when they may be hesitant to give money as a donation. Meanwhile, the proliferation of merchandise serves the bonus role of increasing the popularity of the comic by making it more widespread in the real world, serving as a advertiser.

            Meanwhile, this presentation on Sticky Comics demonstrates that the author’s main source of funding is corporate connections. This can serve as a win-win for the author, who gets money and increased popularity. It is also mutually beneficial, as it can increase the popularity of the webcomic’s connections as well. The catch is possible restriction of freedom of expression. Connections can pull funding for posting unfavorable content, and this may not sit well with some creators. More optimistically, creators will make connections with corporations whose interests are already aligned, resulting in the mutually beneficial relationship with the catch largely nullified.

            John’s presentation on The Last Mechanical Monster discusses income through print copies and ad revenue/subscriptions. While print copies can be a viable source of income, it relies in the success of the comic. Income through ad revenue is a reasonable option for comics, because it often takes little from the user’s experience. However, it still takes a little, and that is why some especially dedicated authors, like Allie Brosh, might refuse to take that option. Paid subscriptions are an especially risky option, because it risks accessibility and thus popularity. It is a slightly safe option when the subscription is packaged on a site with other comics, as Fies has done.

The presentations on February 6^th have taught me that though webcomics are mostly visuals, artistic skill is not necessary to succeed in the webcomic world. In fact, low effort or low skill drawings can be endearing to an audience, as long as the style is consistent.

Suraj discusses this in his presentation on Dinosaur Comics, where many of the strips follow the same format. That is, the author recycles the same drawings and only replaces the text. Despite expectations, the comic is a success. In this case, the use of repetition causes the reader to focus on the varying text; it appears that the webcomic functions more as an entertaining way of conveying ideas.

The above is an example of the drawing templet the author uses, with the text replaced to fit whatever subject matter the author wishes to uses.

Simillarly, Hyperbole and a Half also uses low-effort drawings. It is a humor webcomic/blog, and the silly drawings add to the humor. As Lorela points out, many of the images from Hyperbole and a Half are used in memes.

The above is an example of a image that was turned into a meme. The image is simple, so it is universally understood and easily modified, making it an idea candidate for quickly conveying a thought. This ease of spread results in greater proliferation of the images, which results in fame.

            The two comics also demonstrate a greater tendency of authors to appeal to their fanbase. This is not to say that content is tailored to the whims of the audience to make a good audience-author relationship. Rather, efforts like greater communication between author and audience (Suraj notes that North is actively responding to feedback) and reduction of ads (Lorela points out that Brosh does not use ads in her site) help promote this relationship. Other art sections like movie-making cannot afford to give their content away for free and promote this level of user-friendliness at their own expense. Given the relatively low cost of producing webcomics and the less profit-focused intent (few webcomics are designed with the expectation to be successful and profitable), webcomic artists are able to appear more connected to their readers as opposed to other content creators, who can at times appear detached.

The presentations on February 2^nd have taught me about a new opportunity that the digital media provides: the ability to tell important stories that cannot be told in other media.

            For example, Yara Seif’s presentation on Mom’s Cancer notes that the webcomic only exists because of the free cost of publishing. Surely, the subject matter wouldn’t sell well in print; people rarely clamor to buy personal stories about personal tragedies. But it is different when an author freely shares their story for the sake of the story’s existence in the world. “Popularity” for these stories is not a high net worth nor fans wearing and flashing merchandise for the comic; it is simply the love and understanding that readers give, as evidenced by the heartfelt fanmail that some readers sent.

            Even if many people can relate to this story, the story does not exist solely for it audience. It is the kind of story that needs to be told, but does not necessarily need to be heard. I would argue that even if it did not become as widespread as it did, Mom’s Cancer still serves its primary purpose, which is to simply exist. It is likely that many similar stories exist in the web, but are lost to obscurity; these comics, too, are successful simply because they are told.

            Taylor Shepard’s presentation on A Guard’s Story is about a story that does need to spread to be successful, and its story—the report of real-life events—would fit in with newspapers. Still, it represents a different way of telling news: one that focuses not only on informing, but of convincing that the news is important. This is evident, as the presentation displays, in the forms of representation. This includes the use of white space and scrolling, used to blur the line between the reader and the snapshot of the world the author records. Without these methods, the story becomes just another tragedy that the common reader will read, sigh, and carry on with their day. Through this medium, the story stays in the reader’s memory, because it feels more personal.

            I leave this post with an exciting question with an answer impossible to find: what kinds of important stories are we waiting on? And what kind of media are waiting for us to invent them, so that they can tell these stories?

In “The Loneliest Astronauts” by Kevin Church and Ming Doyle, two astronauts, stranded with no hope for rescue, are bored and find ways to kill time.

            Today, I will discuss the ideas from Lanham’s The economics of attention: Style and substance in the age of information. Lanham proposes that in the modern world, the most important resource is not food nor money, but attention. Thus, he believes that this resource is what businesses strive for most, and that attention is a resource different from the resources in history, in that the game of spending attention and information (which attention is used to process into productivity) is not necessarily zero-sum. That is, two people trading information can both leave with more than they began with. The same cannot be said with money.

            I propose that this same idea applies to webcomics. Money is not the most important resource; few webcomic artists start their projects for the sole purpose of profit. Rather, webcomic artists seek to tell a story, and to see their ideas spread across the web. Some may hope to gain fame and glory as their comic becomes an icon on the internet. Money here is a means to an end; donation systems are opened for readers to give charity, but rather for readers to support the author’s financial ability to continue their work.

We can see these intentions across the website of “The Loneliest Astronauts”; there are many places here that ask for following social media or to see other comics by the author/recommended authors. Besides the comic itself, these take up the bulk of the page. The mechanics that would give the authors money are few and small; the most prominent is the tiny “Buy in Print” button seen in a previous post. Clearly, the priority is not money, but for attention, so perhaps we should determine the success of a comic by how much attention and recognition it obtains instead of its net worth (though, of course, this metric is far harder to measure).

Also to note is the link to other webcomics; this connects to the idea that the economy of attention is not zero-sum. Rather than trying to steal others’ audiences, authors try to merge audiences so that both comics can become more famous.

Lanham, R. A. (2006). The economics of attention: Style and substance in the age of information. University of Chicago Press.

In “The Loneliest Astronauts”, Kevin Church and Ming Doyle depict two astronauts stranded in space with nothing to do but to annoy each other.

            Today, I would like to discuss the claims of “Webcomics: The Influence and Continuation of the Comix Revolution” by Fenty, Houp, and Taylor.

            While the structure of this webcomic follows that of traditional comics, the content can be slightly more vulgar than would be accepted in print. This can be seen in the above strip, as well as the strip below.

            Of course, other webcomics mention topics far more taboo than this, but the fact remains that this webcomic presents an example of content that likely would not surface in the print world. Evidence for this lies in the failure of this comic to sell in print, despite efforts.

This is in addition to the content in general. Again, while this comic still appeals to the general public more than comics like Ctrl+Alt+Del, as anyone can appreciate the theme of pranking, there are still elements that appeal largely to science and science-fiction fans.

            This webcomic does not serve to promote any idea or norm; it is simply to entertain. However, it still takes advantage of the fact that most web users are more technologically-savy than the average person by consisting of content that is relatively more appealing than most other subject matters. In other words, a space comic fares better on the internet, because internet users tend to be technology lovers, who tend to be space lovers.

            We know that for every popular webcomic, there are hundreds whose names never reach the light of day. I would like to speculate and say that it is likely that many of those webcomics have content that would better suit print comics, much like how print comics that would better suit the web tend not to survive. This is simply because comics that suit their medium naturally out-compete them unless they are especially well-made. This is unfortunate for the ill-fitting webcomics, which may have good content but not the connections to overcome the obstacles that come with starting out in print.

Fenty, S., Houp, T., & Taylor, L. (2004). Webcomics: The influence and continuation of the comix revolution. ImageTexT: Interdisciplinary Comics Studies, 1(2).