There are topics in the comics community that are always present, waiting for a trigger to become the thing to talk and blog about. There will be months at a time when no one engages in heated bulletin board posting about a particular subject, but a tidbit of new, a passing comment or a bizarre business move will unleash a torrent of opinions. Last month, the topic was contracts and creator rights, and the discussion is still going strong. The trigger was the curiously worded “pact” that Tokyopop released for its Manga Pilots program, which required those participating to relinquish their moral rights and copyright. Well, technically, they “co-own” the copyright. I can’t remember who wrote it, but recently I read that co-owning a copyright with a corporation gives you about as much rights as not owning it all.
But you see, I’m doing what I specifically intended not to do. Familiar as I am with being on the frustrating receiving end of the “your business is my business, so let me tell you everything I think you do wrong” attitude some following comics news have, I didn’t want to comment specifically on another publisher’s practices or artist’s decisions. So let’s get on to what I am going to do.
I quizzed comics creators for their opinions about their ideal contracts and when they would be willing to give up copyright ownership, and I meant to write about their opinions. However, aside from my friend Landry Walker’s story about how he and Eric Jones negotiated a contract so they would receive a lifetime supply of Hostess Crumb Cakes, their answers told me what I and everyone in the industry seem to know already: for most savvy comics creators, retaining copyright ownership is very important, though some may give up ownership of projects they are less attached to if they’re paid enough and given enough exposure to benefit future, creator-owned projects. A few people pointed out a difference that has always intrigued me as well—in the traditional book publishing industry, treating original creative projects like work-for-hire is pretty much unheard of. Comics creator Andrew Bonia put it thusly: “Imagine Stephen King publishing The Shining or Carrie and being told that they’d pay him, but actually he would have no further right over his work when he was finished. There’s a certain amount of madness inherent.”
So why are some comics publishers asking this madness of creators? The first answer to that question is because they can. The history of the comics industry would seem to be a cautionary tale for new artists, but many eager young artists are unaware of this historyof creators like Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster, the creators of Superman, and its lessons. Many think they have no other options, and publishers are going to keep offering them so long as artists keep accepting them. The second reason is one I don’t really have to say, it’s so oft-repeated: it is difficult to make money in comics, not just for artists but for publishers. Industry history established the model of company-owned comics, with stories being supplied by artists who are paid page rates and retain no rights over what they create. This means for an initial investment, the publishers receive all the benefits should the project become successful. Profits from sales of the initial project, film rights, merchandise and spinoffs often go to the publisher alone.
When you’re a small publisher who publishes creator-owned books, you’re competing in a marketplace that has been built around a very different model from the one you are using. No wonder some have turned toward the tactics of the big boys. However, over the years I have come to see that while creator rights should be protected, those rights can sometimes burden small publishers. In a successful publisher-creator relationship, as artist Shari Chankhamma wrote to me, “Everyone should, ideally, benefit”—and there’s where it gets difficult because the comics industry is not the Platonic realm of ideals, even if all parties act reasonably and in good conscience. If the book does not sell well, neither artist nor publisher benefit. Even more unfortunately, artists might find themselves unhappy with how their publisher treats them or their work. We’ve all read about examples of that. But small publishers who offer creator-owned contracts rarely (if ever—I’ve never seen it that I can recall) talk publicly about how the occasional artist makes them feel like a stepping stone to a bigger payday. This is not just because it would be gauche to bring out in public, especially if this treatment fits within the legal framework of the publisher’s contract. It’s also because the business model requires that publishers inspire a sense of loyalty in artists, so it’s taboo for either publisher or artist to say they are unhappy with the other’s behavior.
Publishers of creator-owned works are dependent on the artists; unless provisions are written into contracts (such as collection rights and right of first refusal, which I know some comics creators object to), artists can simply take their next work—or sometimes even their already published work—elsewhere. Or they can apparently disappear, not returning phone calls or e-mails about missed deadlines, only to turn up in next month’s Previews as the artist on a larger publisher’s new title. Or they can get a very publicly discussed contract with a big publisher and take away a smaller publisher’s right to continue to publish their already-in-print work. Or they can take years to finish a series while their publisher stands by them, then take the collection to a larger publisher. Publishers of creator-owned work can have the creeping realization that they own nothing but their company name, office equipment and the intangibles of know-how and reputation. It is an insecure position to be in.
But, then, so is being a comics artist. I don’t know all the particulars of the situations I’ve outlined above; I don’t know if the artists had private disputes with their publishers or unvoiced dissatisfaction. I don’t even know if publishers have more to lose in trust and industry respectability by offering contracts widely reviled as unscrupulous than they have to make in money from the rights those contracts give them. But I do know I’ll side with creator rights over publisher exploitation every time. Even so, the discussion that’s been going on has reminded me that while everyone has to consider what will most benefit them, in comics, as in so much in life, sometimes acting within your rights doesn’t necessarily mean what you are doing is right.
Jennifer de Guzman is editor-in-chief at the independent comics publisher SLG Publishing. She also writes fiction—mostly in prose, occasionally in comics—and holds an M.F.A. in literature and creative writing from San Jose State University.
