Sequential Tart Interview (Part 1)
"TO THE MAXX WITH FOUR WOMEN"

originally posted by Katherine Keller on Sequentialtart.com

When trying to describe Sam Kieth, phrases such as "30-something 10 year old", "Dr. Seuss on crack", and "wonderfully insane" come to mind. Kieth claims that he can't draw or write, but thousands of loyal fans eagerly follow his ... unique ... stories. A few months ago Katherine Keller had the opportunity to pick the brain of one of the most intriguing creators currently working today, and ended up with over an hour of insight into his world view, the origins of his stories, and his creative process. This is part one of her adventure.

Sequential Tart: So, when did you discover comics?

Sam Kieth: Oh, wow — jump right into it. Well, when I was a kid, I used to draw, even before I picked up a comic I was drawing these little stories on 3x5 index cards. My mom bought a pack and when she brought them home, the only thing I could think to do with them was draw a picture and write little words underneath each one. Then I'd string them into a story [laughs].

ST: About how old were you when you were doing this?

SK: Oh, about eight years old. I guess those were comics, although I didn't think of them as that.

It wasn't until I was 12 or 13 that I discovered comics. There wasn't a comic store — I don't know if you discovered them this way — but they used to have them at supermarkets on the racks.

I could never get them in order. I'd just get an issue of a comic, and then I'd wander in a couple months later and get issue 5, and then issue 7 — whatever struck my fancy. It never occurred to me to try and get them in order [laughs], and how much more enjoyable they'd be if they were all read in order.

ST: Did you like anything in particular?

SK: Well, you know, it was the typical adolescent wish fulfillment — people running around in their underwear and seeming not to have the problems I had. I mean, the metaphor of running around in long underwear and seeming to have the tastes and maturity of a kid, but powers far beyond an adult, was the first thing that attracted me to them. There wasn't really any — it was quite a bit later that I discovered alternative comics in the '80s, comics that had a little more maturity to them.

ST: What were a couple of those titles?

SK: Oh gosh ...

ST: Was it anything like Love and Rockets?

SK: Yeah, that was one of them. But coming off of superheroes, even reading things like Nexus or American Flagg, it seemed to lead the way to things like Cerebus and Love and Rockets.

When I went down to the end of a comics show, the colors stopped and they started being black and white, then it was pretty fringy. You were down there right next to the underground, and you never knew what you were going to get into. And that's where all the interesting stuff was, come to find out.

ST: So, I presume that in high school, you were "one of the guys who could draw"?

SK: No. I was a guy who drew, but I always hung around people who drew a lot better. So I was always one of the guys who people would say:
"Hey, do you know Kelly Jones or Grant Johnson?"
"Yeah."
"Boy, they're pretty good, aren't they?"
And I'd say, "Yeah, they're real good." [laughs]

I knew a lot of people who drew. My cousin, who is an animator — he actually created the Cow and Chicken cartoon — he was four years older, and he drew, and his sister drew. They were like brother and sister to me. My father drew when I was growing up. He painted, too — I never really got too involved with that. It just seemed like everyone around me drew, and it was nothing special to draw.

So, you always had to try twice as hard just to stay up, you know? Everybody was older than me, and they drew better, it was like, "well, drawing isn't going to get me any attention." [laughs]

I didn't even start to get serious about it until much later, when — geez, well this is a probably a whole 'nuther conversation.

ST: That's okay, a long interview is not a bad thing.

SK: I met my wife at ... an unusually young age. And, so, it probably wasn't until I was about 18 or 19 that I started to think seriously about trying to get into comics. From the time I met her — I was 15 and she was 30. I moved from my parents' home into her home, and lived with her, and kind of essentially grew up. There was no way I was really ready to jump into the comics field at 15-16 years old.

ST: What made you decide on a career in comics?

SK: I have to tell you, I admire your ability to stick to the subject matter after an answer like that. Usually most people are, "What kind of a freak are you?" after they hear that. "What the heck? What's the deal with that?"

ST: Well, my husband is 12 years older than I am, so ...

SK: So, you're used to the whole age difference thing, then.

ST: Yeah.

SK: That's cool — I feel so relieved [laughs]. Like I'm in good company all of a sudden. What was the question?

ST: What made you finally decide on the career in comics, as opposed to, say, illustration or animation, or —

SK: I couldn't get in to any of that stuff. I wasn't good enough. My whole career is a case of failing into comics [laughs]. Failing into getting a book, y'know? [Laughs]

I tried getting a graphics job — I couldn't. I tried getting hired as a chef once — I couldn't. I tried to teach guitar lessons and — I just wasn't skilled and/or lacked the discipline to do any of those things.

I kept trying to run around conventions with portfolios like everybody does. I didn't have a portfolio case, and I couldn't afford those nice leather ones that everybody had, so, my mom had an old orange container that had once had X-Rays in it that was made of cardboard, and it was just original art size. I'd stand in line with this X-Ray box and show my portfolio [laughs]. I'd pull out my pages, and all the editors would make jokes, "What are you going to show me, your X-Rays?" [Laughs] I'd be, "No, this is it." I remember burning with shame that I didn't have at least a decent something to pull them out of.

It didn't much matter anyway, because they were terrible and I had years and years to go before I got better, and years and years to unlearn the mistakes I kept making.

So, it's like, "How long'd it take you to get in?" "Oh, 'bout 10 years." "What?!" I'm like, "No, no, I'm a slow learner. And I'm an idiot, but you, you can probably get in in two or three years." At which point they go, "Okay, whew!"

Mostly the thing that kept me out was making the same mistakes over and over again. Learning to draw by following other artists — spending at least two or three years trying to be John Byrne, and just being a bad John Byrne clone, then trying to be a bad Bernie Wrightson clone, and we already had a bunch of those.

It just took me a long time how to figure out how to be a bad Sam Kieth. [Laughs] But, dammit, I made it!

ST: Speaking of that, how did you land your first professional job?

SK: Y'know, because most people that read these interviews I bet, what they're really looking for — they're passing through the personal stuff — I know I used to search all the articles with interviews of professionals "Yeah, yeah, you were born here, sure, okay ... " and I'd go right to what is the thing that happened. Was there some magic thing? Is there a moment? An editor of a book? There always winds up being, but ....

There was a big moment when I got into my first black and white book. There was a big moment when I got a chance to ink a color book — Mage was this comic I was inking that Matt Wagner was doing, and I inked maybe 12 issues of that. And then it was a big deal to pencil the Sandman book, which was the first regular penciling job I had.

In-between those were years of doing books that were bad, or were bad introductions, such as the first inking job I did for DC. The editor and writer of the book, Roy Thomas, called me up and said basically, "Kid, you're bad, you'll never work in comics again, and you need to quit while you're behind." These moments were in my mind as much as any of the seeming successes. I mean it [the inking] was a terrible job. It's all those little failures that — you know the clichι — the success you have is built on a bunch of failures, everything I've done is built on all these bad anatomied bodies I've drawn, and all these bad stories I've tried to write. [Laughs] I mean, you stick around for 15-20 years, and you get an awful lot of failures that you can climb up on top of.

I don't know. I can't think of any magic words, or any thing to tell people out there that would get them through it, other than when they're suffering through a really bad story with really bad art, every single person that I've ever admired has told me that they've been there — with the stench. [laughs]

I hope that doesn't sound too pessimistic.

ST: [Laughs]. I discovered your work just as I was getting into comics, and I picked up this comic called Marvel Comics Presents, and I opened it up and took a look at it and said, "Who the hell is this?!"

SK: [Laughs] So that was the first reaction, right?

ST: But really it was more because your art was just completely different from anything else I was seeing at the time, so "Who the hell is this?!" isn't necessarily meant in a bad way, either. How did you land that job?

SK: Just doing those covers and stuff?

ST: Yeah, and that Wolverine story.

SK: Well, again, when I was working on Sandman, I was really unhappy, and I don't think I was doing my best work, and everybody was trying to get me to quit and I was trying to get myself fired. [Laughs] Then, when I left, I really wanted to try to do something that was — see, the problem is I'm a weird guy in a world that ... it's a lot different now than it was 10 years ago, but then, if you were weird, you really stuck out from everybody else — and I was really worried, working at Marvel, just crawling into their superhero books, that people wouldn't get my work and it would just seem really strange, and I'd be rejected.

Some how, I think I was going to do some Nightmare on Elm Street book that Peter David was writing, and he was really not thrilled with the gig and neither was I. I think I only did a pin up and I had the editor bluffed, because he thought I could draw Freddy Krueger that well all the time, and here I just got lucky once. So he kept saying, "Yes, I just want you on this book. The licensers really like your Freddy Krueger." And I thought, "Well, this is great — until he figures out I can't draw Freddy Krueger. So I better duck out of this quick." [Laughs]. Peter David says, "Yeah, we better duck out, because this is a slimy book to be doing anyway." So I got to know him there, but I think it was just luck. I called up Marvel Comics Present's editor one day, whom I had gotten to know from telling my Sandman story — showing him the work and apologizing — and he said, "Yeah, this guy, Todd McFarlaine, was going to do a miniseries, but he's crapped out, and you've just called me up. So, do you want the job?"

It was literally luck that I just happened to be there at the right time and I just started doing covers for them and the cover editor at the time just kept saying that it was wrong and that I should be fired — every issue — and Terry Kavanaugh was really cool and was like, "No, no, just keep letting him screw it up and do weird things."

Kids would write in and say things like: "Wolverine's okay, but his back is too round." "What's up with Wolverine's feet? Why are they growing?" And, "Wolverine is really out of proportion, I think your artist is losing his mind or something." And it was funny, because the letters I would get would be kids who really loved it, or kids who were saying "Why are you ruining my universe." They had a very specific view of the world. "I'm going through latency," they wouldn't say it in those words, but, "I'm going through this world view phase where I'm trying to categorize and order things, and you're causing chaos by giving me a version of things that are drastically different from everything else. So please, please, please go away and not do that anymore." [Laughs] So, in that way it was almost a relief when I went off and did my own book, because then I could screw around and introduce my proportions.

ST: Well, speaking of doing your own book, what was it that prompted you to leave Marvel? I know you talked a little about this at the panel at San Diego ...

SK: I'd like to say that I had some burning desire to create my own character, and a lot of people did, and I did too, but part of it was the fact that I figured my chance to do a run of a book would be at Marvel — Wolverine or something — and I kept waiting around to get the book, and I couldn't get it because Marc Silvestri was on it, and when he left, there was another artist that got on it. It became clear that the only way I was going to get Wolverine was if an artist died or got sick. [Laughs] And, I just didn't have that luck. I was simply waiting around a Marvel, knowing that my favorite characters were all taken and I wasn't going to get a shot.

I just happened to be at Marvel at the time all these people were taking off and Jim Lee was like, "Hey, come on over into the corner and do this eight page story." Nobody had any idea what the results of this would be, because dozens of times before people had left Marvel and DC, and gone off and said they were going to start a company, and it always blew up. Nothing happened because the artists lacked the discipline to get anything done.

It was pure luck.

The truth of the matter — everybody knows that there are hundreds of other artists, many of them much better than me, could've been there at Marvel, taking off to Image. Many of them had the opportunity offered to them and turned it down, "What? Are you guys nuts? Forget it." So, I think it was just my desperation — and timing — that caused me to be with these guys. I mean, Dale Keown just happened to be there at that time. He could've been at DC, he could've been doing an alternative book. I mean, are there better artists than Dale Keown and me, and the other guys who were working at Image? Sure. Totally. I walk down the aisles at San Diego and see artists who totally kick my butt. I wonder what the hell am I doing in here? It has more to do with proximity and people who are stupid enough to keep working. [Laughs]

That's the only thing I can think. What do you think? You've been around, you've seen people come and go. Why do some of the same idiots keep popping up and others disappear? The only thing I can think of — I mean, if Matt Wagner keeps popping up, it's because he keeps doing work. [Laughs] We've tried to get rid of him for years now, and he's still around. [Laughs] I say it to him when I see him, "Why are you still here?" He says, "Ahh, I keep working." "Man, for so long, I keep seeing your work, and everywhere I go, there you are." [Laughs]

ST: So, where did The Maxx come from?

SK: I have no idea ... must have been some bad heartburn or something. Something that just didn't go down well. It looks pretty much like the Hulk with his purple pants stretched over his whole body pretty much. He's pretty much an excuse to draw a circle and a triangle and add some arms. It just came from doodles in a sketch book of jungle foliage and some guy running around. The story literally came from sketchbook notes and hopefully didn't suffer as a result from that.

It's interesting, because I was just reading some of the stuff in the reviews — I'm sorry, I was just vain enough to do this — I looked up some of the reviews at Sequential Tart about Zero Girl. I thought they were right on target. I was aware one of the people who reviewed #3 were a little concerned with some of the violence seeming out of place with the characterization, which I really agreed with. Kind of weird, because I did it, you'd think that I'd not do that. I was thinking of this story as kind of a goof, and now it seems like it's a better story than I was giving it credit to be. I think I should've gone back and not quite played the violent surreal stuff quite so heavy. Carrie Landers didn't like #5 at all. I just got done telling Scott Dunbier that I really want to put her review on the back of the trade paperback. It would be really cool to have all these reviews that seem really nice, and then something that just says, "Look, this is a really bad idea, go out and buy Gen 13 instead." [Laughs] He says, "Yeah, that's kind of cool. At least you have your feet on the ground." I said, "Exactly, and, y'know, she's got a point. She thinks I flubbed the ending. Maybe I did."

ST: I think it's really cool that you're not like "You gave my book a bad review! DEATH TO YOU!!!"

SK: Well, you know, I'm glad I read a lot of other reviews that liked it before, or I might have been. And I can't say that at three in the morning it doesn't bother me [laughs], but the truth of the matter is, I'm not vain enough to think that everything I do works.

It's particularly nice to hear people talk about it of different sexes. Women, what they think about the book. I'm really annoyed with guys who write women that think they know what they're talking about. The only way I can write a female character is to write a character, and realize that on certain level it probably always rings false, because I'm not a woman.

ST: Actually, that's something I wanted to touch on. A lot of your books — I know you kind of have this reputation as "Oh, Sam Kieth, he's so funny, he's so quirky", and there is a lot of really laugh out loud funny stuff in your books, but The Maxx, and Zero Girl, and the synopsis you sent me for Four Women, you deal with a lot of dark stuff in there.

SK: Well, that one's ...

ST: I mean, like Julie, that's some serious psychological wreckage going on there.

SK: [Laughs] "That's some serious psychological wreckage." Yeah.

ST: First, what's the appeal of exploring those issues, and second, have you had a reaction or attacks along the line of "You're a guy. You can't possibly know what it's like, and you shouldn't be doing this"?

SK: Mostly that comes from me. Surprisingly, when I was doing the book, it was a huge swell of people — men and women — but the letters we get from women ... and this is also, if people seem to like it, it's partly just due to the dearth of things from the female perspective. There's an absence of it; there's a lack, there's just not a lot of things being explored from a female perspective, the industry being the adolescent male dominated dream factory it is.

So, yeah, the fans of The Maxx were really supportive of it, but the things I'm trying to do now, I keep trying to draw them closer to what really happened. Like obviously as I just told you in Zero Girl, the story is a first attempt for me to tell a story that's closer to me and the truth — although my wife wasn't my teacher, the age of Amy and the counselor aren't that far removed from me and my wife. I was really just telling — trying to, minus all the circles and squares and monsters eating people in alleys — trying to get closer to telling our story. Disguising my sex and her sex so that I thought she would not say, "Why are you telling our story to a bunch of strange people?" But probably fooling no one as a result.

But, people like you were talking about, writing female characters, the first thing I think about is, I'm just trying to write people who happen to be female characters. So, on the one hand, if things seem more dimensional, maybe that's why. On the other, if it rings false, it's because, once again .... That whole gender question can drive you crazy, "Would I be writing this differently if I was a woman or a man?" I drove myself particularly nuts in this Four Women story. The bottom line is, yes, I think that it's probably a weaker story, yes I think that a woman could write it better, but on the other hand, I can't help who I am and the stories I'm compelled to write.

I was also trying to go back and deal with the very thing that some of the reviews of Zero Girl were concerned about. You try to build up these characters, and the plot basically descends into the clichι of physical jeopardy — you don't necessarily have to do that. So my question with the outline I sent you was, even thought the plot seems really action dominated, because I make sure, or I try to make sure that I have the skill to make you care about those characters, that in the end, it wasn't just a "twist" ending. That you actually felt, that on the surface it was a story about rape, but underneath it was a story about sacrifice and a test of friendship. Which sounds kind of hooky and cliched, but I wanted to act those parts. I even retained the rights from DC to be able to do it as a play.

What it really became is discovering how weak I am as a writer, but I think as a result of writing it ... there's just so many facets as I get older, to women. It's interesting because I use my mother as a model in the book. It was interesting using her in it, because I kept drawing her differently; I showed her the pictures, and she said, "I don't look anything like that." [Laughs] "Well," I said, "I'm trying to see you differently than I normally see you. I have all this mother stuff projected on you, and I'm trying to see these four women, these four generations." I know from personal experience with my wife and the women around me, that — god, these aren't even sentences! [Laughs] It seems like sooner or later I'm going to have to grow up and stop hiding behind the pouting teen-aged girl persona. As much as I feel comfortable writing that disenfranchised, alienated teen, I'm already halfway through my life. I'll be dead in 30 years. I might as well come up with a way of looking at older people and older women that reflects the fact that they're not all pouting teens. But, it is a pain in the butt. I think that's ultimately why the story can only go so far — I've only experienced so much. You've got to write about what you know, and if you write about something too far from your experience ... it all starts to cave in.

So go out and buy that book, kids! [Laughs] "So, this is why it fails, this is why it's no good, and this is why you're recommending it ...."

But everybody know when something's working, and when it's not, despite the recommendations'.

I thought it was really sweet what Izzy wrote, by the way [Editor's Note: Check out Izzy's write up on getting a sketch from Sam Kieth] [Copy Editor's Note: Izzy said to insert "woodgie giggles" here because Sam remembers her.] I had the same experience of it that she did. I wondered if it was just me remembering it that way, and when I read it, "That's exactly the way it happened!" It's so amazing that she's writing it down for people to read. I'm really grateful for what she said — it was so important to her.

ST: Oooohhh I ran into her afterwards, she was seething to put it mildly.

SK: I could tell, those tears, the frustration of it. It was funny, because I was reading it to my wife, and she didn't know the back story, and I said, "And then she handed me her pants." And my wife said, "Excuse me?!" I said, "No, they were her pants." "Yes, now what the heck? What goes on at these conventions?" "She had them with her."

Anyway, now that I've completely lost my train of thought and we're completely of topic....

ST: Okay, so, back to The Maxx. Were you expecting it to be anywhere near as successful as it was?

SK: Okay, we all knew that. [Laughs] Sorry, being a smartass.

ST: I mean, I was kind of shocked to hear at San Diego, at your panel — which I was not expecting to be packed — how well it did.

SK: Well, the other thing was, through The Maxx, there's this army of people who've followed me around ever since then. There's even this newsgroup, and people that hang out there. I'm not even doing the book, and they're still hanging out. I'll never know if they're Sam Kieth fans, or Maxx fans who keep hoping I'll get off my duff and do it again.

Nobody was expecting it. I wasn't expecting it. It grew into something that I don't think I'll be able to completely walk away from. It completely overwhelmed me. It completely overwhelmed Bill Loebs, who was dialoging the first 12 or 15 issues. Everybody that was involved, the colorist .... It was doing a comic that happened to ride — it wasn't the comic itself, it was the sales speculation thing at the time. But also, I was able to go on and do 35 issues before exhausting everyone's patience. And eventually it would fan out into the cartoon, and go on into the inevitable development that all these things do in terms of ... a movie. Then I was attached to write and direct the movie, then the movie petered out, and then the second season of the cartoon petered out. It was all back down to like none of it happened.

Yeah, my hope was I'd get on Wolverine for three years, I'd do what I did in Marvel Comics Presents for Wolverine. I'd be the guy who drew Wolverine weird, and that was my line.

Just the fact that I would create this character, and it would flourish into all of this stuff, how people would respond to — I don't think it was just my stories. People were going through stuff, sometimes emotional, heavy stuff, and they would gravitate to this book. They would talk about it in the letter columns. Me and my wife often felt like it was beyond our control. We'd get these heavy letters from people going through stuff, and they would write to each other and talk to each other, and it just seemed like The Maxx was the place they happened to be working it out. I think they would've wound up working it out some other place; it wasn't necessarily our book. We'd never had any children, but if we did, doing the letter column for those 35 issues .... It was the fans who eventually told me, "Look, you keep starting stories, and you're not finishing them. This is out of control. This is crazy. You've got to do something." I realized then it was time to quit. I didn't know what I was doing anymore. I was clearly restless, but afraid to quit. But it was time to quit — until I knew what I definitely wanted to do.

ST: I remember when I was reading The Maxx, I used to sometimes read the letters columns first.

SK: Oh, everybody did that. It was the best part of the book, the letters column.

ST: The Maxx first came out before the internet really got going. It was a unique community that developed there.

SK: I know. It's not the same even now with — people writing letters on a newsgroup doesn't have the intimacy that all those letters that people write to you in person do. People pour out more heavy emotions when they write letters. I mean, there can be a heavy exchange in an e-mail, but it just seems like there's an intimacy when you take the time to write somebody a letter.

It's kind of missing today, with them dropping letter columns in comics.

Whoever I wind up reprinting all The Maxxes with — I still haven't decided —

ST: So they are going to come back into print?

SK: Yeah, they are going to come back if I can finally decide who I'm going to do it with. That's the dilemma right now; it's a tug o' war between a couple of different publishers that I'm currently talking about it with, because I want to still hold on to everything.

I'd like to — after they do volumes — reprint all of them, but all the letters, too. In a collected format for somebody who would be insane enough to go through, because, what is it like ... 600 or 900 pages with all the letters, too. But just for somebody that had their letter in it, that remembered it, and that once every ten years wanted to plow through the whole thing and just remember it as it was published. Starting out with 1 through 20 making sense, 20 through 30 being the disappointing follow up that had some interesting moments, and 30 through 35 being absolutely chaotic as hell until we eventually had to pull the plug on the whole thing. It's like adolescence, it's like growing up — for me it was anyway.

God! That sounds so self immortalizing, like we're talking about some great thing. If I was reading this [interview] and I hadn't read The Maxx, I'd be like, "Who is this putz?! Who is this pinhead and why does he think he's so damn important?" But for the people that read it, I don't think it was The Maxx itself. I think it was who they were when they were reading that book and what was going on with them.

But yeah, it was pretty weird with some of the heavy stuff. I don't know why it winds up being so dark. I'm not really as dark a person as that. I don't think. Everybody has secrets, but ultimately, there's only so many secrets you're going to have, right? There's only like 160 good secrets, and pretty much everybody keeps cycling through the same ones. I don't think mine are more interesting than anybody else's. [Laughs] "Oh, you've got #137? I have #28."

I was really taken with the website [Sequential Tart].

ST: Oh, thanks.

SK: I think it should be a model. I haven't checked out too many other comic websites, but as far as the site, I'm really taken with how you have all your back issues cataloged and easy to find, not only by the subject and month, but the person. It seems that is one advantage to the web — I mean you could have [paper] issues, but going through all the issues and trying to find who is in a particular issue would drive me nuts. There's one advantage to a computer in that it seems that —

ST: You can make a data base pretty easily.

SK: Yeah! I was just talking to Diana Schutz the other day and I said, "Guess what! I know you said this over at Sequential Tart." "Oh? How'd you know that?" "I'm not going to tell you, but I've got friends over there ..."[laughs]. It's really cool to go through and see — I said to myself, "Man, I could spend like, two months going through their data base looking up all these people that I used to know."

[Laughs] I'm glad you're not Carrie Landers, or this might be a kind of intense conversation. "So, why did you have to screw up #5? It started out really nice, making sense, and then you had to go off the deep end, and then you give us a bad ending on top of it. You disgust me, Kieth. You're a failure." "~Sigh~ You're right, Carrie." [Laughs]

[Editor's Note: Carrie really is a nice, sweet, kind-hearted, lovely Tart and would never ever say anything like that to Sam Kieth. She threatened to beat me up, if I didn't say that….]

ST: If it makes you feel any better, I liked Zero Girl #5 quite a bit, actually.

SK: It's okay if people don't. What do you think of the idea that the violence was out of place with the rest of the characterization of the book — we really didn't get enough into them as people?

ST: But ... I think it is a "payoff" for all the tension that has been building throughout the issues. All that tension building — it had to come out some time. Personally, I think the series would have been better if it had been one issue longer.

SK: Really?

ST: Because you really had to wrap up quite a bit in #5.

SK: That's an interesting point. Somebody else said that at the panel. That was one of the things I was kind of curious about. Hmmn ... I kind of get into this with doing another Zero Girl series, Katherine. Whether or not in the new series to play up the physical jeopardy of there's somebody and they have supernatural powers, because physical jeopardy is one of the things that whether it be physical jeopardy because of a supernatural power or the soap opera thing of "I'm going to leave you because you don't listen to me," something has to be at stake in a drama for you to keep watching, whether it be feelings or actions or something.

But on the other side, I do want to get more into the characters' emotions. I'm just concerned that some of my propensity for gimmicks and bizarreness overwhelms your feelings. If you're watching and you care about the character and you say, "Okay, okay, uh-oh they're being chased by a washing machine?!" This is fine, but it's a red herring to the plot. The real issue is are Amy and Tim going to get back together, or in the case of the second series that I'm doing, I want to answer the question of does Amy really know who Tim is? Ten years have passed, and they get together again — does she really love Tim, or does she love the idea of who she was when she was a teenager with him?

That's what's interesting to me, and that's where I get stuck trying to talk about my wife. I remember when we first got together, and she's like "I really don't want to remember when we first got together." I'm like, "Why? It's romantic." She's, "So? It was illegal." "Aww, come on." She's like, "No. I'm serious. I really don't want to go back there. Let's just move on."

ST: Talking a bit about that, how do you think that the story is changed by reversing the genders in Zero Girl? I know that you don't want to spell out all the details of your private life, but —

SK: [Laughs] Oh why not ...

ST: Do you think changing the genders change the story in any way?

SK: Well, I think it's probably not as good. It's almost like a cheat, to try and change the characters and — I'm not fooling anybody.

ST: Do you think that the emotional truth of the story was changed?

SK: I don't think I ever got to quite the depth of what it's really like. I feel like I kind of hit on some of the issues externally. I feel that in some ways it's a valid point that the circles and squares and some of the theatrics and stuff while interesting to me as an artist and also as a concept; it was a side issue to the core of the issue.

In fact, every female reviewer brought this up, which I thought was interesting — even more so than men reviewers — they all had a moral problem with her being involved with somebody so old. They were more aware of it as a potentially sticky problem beyond the personal matter, that morally it was a compromising situation. I think it was more pronounced with him being male on top of everything else. I very rarely had people bring it [age difference] up when I was involved with my wife. Of course, I think it's part of the problem with Tim being in a teacher role. I think if it happened to be just a person she knew it could be different, and also she was portrayed as not necessarily particularly mature. We really felt like she was more of a baby duck. Some people when they're 15, they can be emotionally closer to 17 — especially since we know that girls mature earlier.

But, I don't think it really got to what it was really like to be with my wife. That's a whole 'nuther story that, frankly I'm not sure I have the honesty to tell. It's really intriguing to me because I don't think I've seen an age difference story that's really told by somebody who's really been there, at least not in comic form before. To do it, I think you'd have to dispense with all the fantasy elements and just tell it as a regular story.

And then there are all the clichιs that everybody already has in their minds, like the typical Summer of '42 clichι of the young boy; it's attributed to some burgeoning manhood thing. People are slapping him on the back and saying "All right!" There's that extreme, and then the other clichι is the reverse: the evil guy who drags the little girl into the bushes. Only it's, what, an evil 30 year-old woman dragging a boy into the bushes? That's clearly pretty stupid and nobody would go for that one. So, there's those two clichιs. But the reality is not really explored.

The only way around it — because I did try to respect her [wife's] feelings, because some things are more important than a damn story. Like the person I've lived with for the past 20 years — one idea I had was to tell the story of five different couples of all varying ages, who all had age differences between them, from an 80 year old man dating a 40 year old woman, to somebody who was in our situation, and show how it affected all of them, to show what they all had in common.

>> Click here for Part 2 of the interview

 

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