I was awake in the middle of the night a few days ago thinking about how long it’s been since I did one of my world-famous autobiographical comic books. My most well-received comic books were the ones that were the most intensely personal. I would get that there’s some lesson life is trying to teach me, and I’d take my real-life experiences and distill them down to a comic book story.
The problem is that because these stories often had to do with real people, those people would see the stories and get offended. Some of those stories, even though they’re honest, are the reason why I’m not as close with certain people I’ve helped in their career.
Since the last time I did one of those autobiographical stories, I’ve been to the top and back again on a late night TV show, surrounded by the soap-opera that was social media land, and creating a successful YouTube channel. At the time I thought of making comics stories out of those experiences but I didn’t want to burn any bridges.
After my adventure in TV land was over and I had my breakdown, my confidence took a hit that I’ve never really got past. I keep feeling like I’m getting closer to where I was then, and then I feel closer to taking the years of experiences that haven’t been dramatised yet and making comic books out of them.
Back then the biggest barrier to making a comic book was my own determination in the face of often-crushing poverty. Now my biggest challenge is finding the time while keeping up with a weekly YouTube schedule.