Category: Interviews

Andrew Tan, also known as Drewscape, is a Singaporean illustrator whose work you’ve probably encountered before. Perhaps you are familiar with the children’s book series Sherlock Sam, or you’ve booked a flight on Scoot and appreciated the cute cartoon characters populating the website. His drawings have also graced the pages of various local magazines. Looking at his incredible body of work, we wouldn’t have guessed that he is a self-taught artist. He’s a really sweet guy and always happy to share what he’s learnt.

What kind of comics do you like to draw?

Drewscape: I like doing comics that explore how people think. Probably because I was quite an introvert, and socially awkward. So I was always trying to better my interactions in social settings. And especially in dating, which I feel I never quite mastered.

So whether I’m writing a sci-fi story, autobiographical, or any other genre, I like to focus on what the character wants and the struggles he or she goes through to get it. And doing that in a believable way. Actually, that’s basically what makes a story engaging, more than how amazing the technology, spaceships or world is.

Excerpt from the story Moving Forward, from the book Monsters, Miracles & Mayonnaise

It seems to me that you also enjoy drawing things from your imagination, with settings that are out of this world. Like The Giggly Floating Fish story in your book Monsters, Miracles & Mayonnaise.

Drewscape: The main reason for that is, I find researching how things look like in real life a chore. When I create my own fantasy world, I can just make things up without worrying if it is historically accurate or not.

As for the Giggly Floating Fish, I purposely set it in an alternate universe because it was a true story disguised as fiction. Telling it as fiction was way more fun. The real story behind it goes like this: One of my favourite artists at the time was Ashley Wood. I was always trying to figure out what kind of pen he used because his line work amazed me.

Then one night, I saw a blog photo where a pen called the Pilot parallel pen sat on his desk. I had to have that pen so I could draw like him. I couldn’t sleep.

Excitement was pumping through my veins while I lay awake thinking about the pen. Next day, I called all the stores that might sell it in Singapore but it was either sold out or they’d stopped carrying it. Finally, I found the only place that still had it – the Pilot Pen office itself at Kaki Bukit. My wife and I took our van on a quest. We got onto unfamiliar highways, got lost along the way, but eventually managed to find the office tucked away in an industrial estate. I got the Parallel pen, showed it off to my sketcher friends and many wanted one too.

But like all new purchases, the excitement quickly faded and I was off hunting for my next amazing pen. You should be able to see the parallels in the comic now, with these events disguised as fiction.

Oh, and I discovered later that Ashley Wood uses all kinds of pens. Some of which I already had, like simple markers and brushes. Just that, I didn’t have to skill to draw like him. Sometimes, a quest brings you back to the beginning.

Excerpt from the story Giggly Floating Fish, from the book Monsters, Miracles & Mayonnaise

How did you go about developing your own style?

Drewscape: Maybe it’s just my personality – but I don’t like imitating what everyone else is doing. So I like looking out for less mainstream art styles that speak to me, then mix them up to come up with something fresh and appealing to myself. A lot of the obscure styles were discovered through reading European comics and less mainstream manga and American comics. I do like manga though, so my drawings tend to skew toward a manga style sometimes.

In terms of art tools, I like drawing with natural media and then tweaking it in Photoshop. Many possibilities open up when natural and digital mediums combine. So I play around with dip pens, fountain pens with unusual nibs, brushes, collage, various paints and paper, etc. And add Photoshop into the whole mix to add that extra magic and polish.

I try to stay away from doing art entirely digital (although it is tempting) because it seems easier to achieve and be imitated. I find that when artists use art tools that are more troublesome to use (e.g. oil paint), or styles that require more steps to achieve, fewer people will attempt it because people in general like taking the easiest route. 

Excerpt from the story Memory, from the book Liquid City Vol. 2

What sort of comics would you like to see coming from Singapore? 

Drewscape: What I don’t want to see is more local comics drawn in mainstream manga styles. Because oftentimes, they turn out looking more like second or third rate manga. It’s hard to beat the Japanese manga masters who have already brought their craft to such a high level. I feel that even if I, a Singaporean, managed to master the art of manga, I’d just be an outsider who is good at imitating a style belonging to another country.

I’d like to see more local comic artists come up with styles that are fresh and cool. So much so that people from other countries would be tempted to imitate them. Perhaps it comes down to experimenting more and doing more mixing and matching of styles. I like that Sonny Liew has a style that doesn’t feel quite American or manga. It just looks like he created a style that suits his own world.

The quality of stories in local comics can also go higher. My comics included. Not all comics artists are good storytellers and writers as well. Proper editor-creator relationships designed for comics might help. It’s something Japan has but Singapore doesn’t. I realised that after reading the manga, Bakuman.

One can learn a lot from manga, haha. Bakuman is a manga about creating Japanese manga. In it, you’ll see creators submitting 18-20 pages of rough pencilled comics (called a “name”) to the editor, in person. The editor will then help them improve and tighten the story, before they move on revisions and then to the final art.

In Singapore, we don’t have editors who specialise in comics. So some comic artists just finish up a comic and then get published without much serious input from a professional editor.

For me, I get my wife to read through my comic thumbnails. Being a copywriter, she will suggest changes to some words and weak areas. I trust her because she seems to have good taste in stories. I will just keep revising the drafts until she’s satisfied.

For my last self-published graphic novel, I also hired a freelance book editor to look through my work before it went to print. 

Excerpt from The Ollie Comics: Diary of a First Time Dad

 

Thanks for sharing your thoughts with us, Andrew! To see his works, click here. 

Editing is a key aspect of the publishing process that few readers ever really think about. It’s one of those things that one only notices if it is lacking or inadequate; and if done well, will be invisible. The editing of a prose book already presents its own challenges, but comics editing requires the editor to also have visual awareness. We are thrilled to have Aditi Shivaramakrishnan to shed light on this subject and talk about her experiences.

How did you become an editor?

Aditi: My first full-time job after getting my BA in English was as an editorial assistant at Epigram Books. I first assisted with the Wee Editions imprint of photo books and sketchbooks, and moved on to edit young adult fiction. I never dreamed I’d get to edit comics so soon in my career but was very glad to be given the opportunity. The comic projects I worked on ranged from autobiographical and whimsical short comics, to urban fantasy, to historical events presented in the comics medium. I appreciated that diversity as well.

How would you describe your role?

Aditi: I think a good editor can pinpoint weaknesses in a work in progress and empowers the creator to develop a situation rather than immediately prescribing a fix. A good editor is also aware of the context in which a work is being produced and looks out for blind spots.

I also see my role as a liaison between the creators and the publishers, which can sometimes involve playing the role of diplomat, and as an advocate for the work. Ultimately, we’d all like to produce work that we can stand by, and that is hopefully successful by some measure.

There’s also the most practical aspects of an editor’s work: project management, personality management, time and money budgeting, and most importantly, effective communication.

More philosophically, I strongly feel there is a sense of responsibility that comes with an editor’s role, because an editor can be a gatekeeper. Even as we work, we should be aware of who is not – and whose stories are not – in the “room”, question why and strive to make space for these voices.

Much as I value beautiful writing, personally, some of the best, most memorable insights I encounter come from people — friends and strangers alike — who may not ever consider themselves Writers, they’re just expressing themselves in a conversation or in a comment thread.

In an ideal world, people’s views would be sincerely considered regardless of their grammar or vocabulary or accent. But we’re not quite there, so as someone deemed well versed in what is accepted as effective communication, as an editor I can work with people to refine their self-expression and language such that it pushes closer to the precise truth of what they want to say or show.

What’s it like working with creators? What do you enjoy the most? 

Aditi: It really depends. With some, you hit it off immediately while with others, both sides take time to adapt and fall into a professional working routine. I enjoy working as an editor — and my other work as an arts manager and my informal experience as a producer — because this role involves supporting creators in bringing their vision to life. With regards to the work, the creators are usually the domain experts.

Some will be more experienced or assertive and are upfront with the editor, like I know my artwork is solid, but my grammar is not so good. Please edit me thoroughly on that front.

Other times the editor can also give suggestions on what to improve. I’ve worked with an old-school comic artist; we were putting together an anniversary edition of his book and he was minimal with explanations because he’d witnessed and produced the original comics at a time when everyone lived through that incident and understood the context. I had to assist him with filling in the gaps to provide some additional details for a new generation of readers.

My job as editor is to help creators get the project to where they want it to be, using their skill. If the intended ending point is Z, and we face problems along the way, I enjoy the process of collaboratively finding solutions to those problems through discussions.

Ideally, I like to ask clarifying questions rather than doling out prescriptions with a heavy hand unless the work or the author really requires it. I think there’s a fine balance an editor must strike between flagging problems and allowing the writer space to brainstorm and respond with a fix, versus being able to offer up solutions if needed.

I like when I can just say to the creator, OK, talk me through what you have in mind. Then I can repeat it back to them, OK this is what I got from what you said, in my own words. Is it accurate? And depending on whether it’s a yes or no, from there we can proceed or work on it some more.

What is the weirdest thing you have had to do as an editor?

Aditi: I specifically remember Googling “how long does a corpse float in seawater” (for a mystery series — YA, no less).

But what has moved me more is the weird intimacies that can form between an editor and writer; the work doesn’t exist in a vacuum, it’s part of real life. I was once checking an FA (Final Art)  and got a call from the author about editing the acknowledgements as they’d just ended a relationship, and I was like, okay, copy that, but how are you doing?

I chanced upon this Tweet the other day by Jini Maxwell, co-editor of The Lifted Brow, that I thought articulated this well, that editors too have a “duty of care”.

What do you read for pleasure and how do you read your books? Do you also “read for work”, keeping tabs on particular genres to stay on trend? 

Aditi: I read a lot of new releases in contemporary fiction, particularly by writers of colour; these days I’m also reading more works translated into English.

I’ve always enjoyed reading as a solitary activity but that has solidified in my adult life; when younger I engaged a lot with online fandom, and then as a literature student I’d discuss texts with coursemates, and while I worked full-time in publishing, with my colleagues. I find that I’ve always most “effectively” read when I’m not precious about it — a luxury a time-strapped literature student juggling multiple texts a week didn’t have.

Sometimes the #bookstagram worthy cafe is just distracting or stifling. Or like, I took Middlemarch with me to Bali recently but found I much preferred playing with the puppies on the beach… 

I’m a fan of the OverDrive mobile app which lets you read e-books loaned from the library. It’s great for reading while commuting and I don’t have to carry around a 720-page copy of A Little Life.

I try to borrow books from the library and then purchase my own copy if I’d like it for my collection — motivated primarily by bookshelf space — but I’ll buy a book upfront if I want to support the creator or if I can’t wait my turn in the library reservations queue. Or sometimes, I’m bedazzled by a compelling cover and somehow find I’ve already handed over my money. 

Yes, I do “read for work”, which has variously involved reading young adult fiction, comics, archival material, photo books and digital marketing guides. I always feel like I should do more.

That being said, I tend to naturally draw connections between things I’m encountering at any given time, including films and conversations (I’m a big fan of overheard conversations). Or, I’ll be drawn to a certain theme or topic for a period, and I think it can be valuable to learn and reflect that way as well.

What sort of stories/comics would you like to see coming from Southeast Asia?

Aditi: My instinctive answer is that I’d love to see stories drawn from Southeast Asian histories and mythologies — there’s so much there. I’d also love to see narratives that speak to the true diversity of Southeast Asia — geographically, socio-economically, linguistically, culinarily — and for the creators to come from all parts of the region.

I bet a lot of this exists already, with an audience, it’s just that I haven’t encountered it yet, perhaps because it’s not written in English.

But what I’d ideally love is for it to reach a stage where Southeast Asian creators don’t feel they have to tell stories that all tap into all that; there’s something frustrating about feeling the pressure to serve up past traumas or exotifying our culture for consumption.

They’ll have as much freedom as Western creators to tell everyday stories like characters having adventures, solving mysteries, falling in love, hurting each other…basically, living their lives.

Wow, that’s some great insight you’ve given us. Thank you for sharing. 

Hello there! Today we are virtually sitting down with Reimena Yee for a chat about comics and the future of comics. Reimena used to be a science stream student, but having recently graduated from university, she is now focusing all her energies to writing, illustrating, and creating comics. Her webcomic The Carpet Merchant of Konstantiniyya is the Eisner Award 2018 nominee for Best Digital Comic. It is amazing that she actually worked on it during her university years. Without further ado, let’s hear from her.

Tell us about some of your best-loved comics or books, those that have a strong influence on you.

Reimena: I tend to gravitate towards prose for narrative inspiration, and comics for technical and artistic inspiration. It’s very rare when I find a comic that stands out both in a narrative and artistic standpoint (usually it’s one over the other), and comics like that are the ones that I aim to create.

The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman is the seed from which my voice as a writer was developed. For comics, I also enjoy Beauty by Hubert and Kerascoet, Just So Happens by Fumio Obata, Hanna is Not A Boy’s Name by Tess Stone, The Property by Rutu Modan, and The Arrival by Shaun Tan.

Spread from The Carpet Merchant of Konstantiniyya 

What are your favourite drawing tools?

Reimena: I mainly use Photoshop, a drawing tablet, an iPad Pro, and an Apple pencil.

Which step of the comic-making process do you enjoy the most? And which step do you find the hardest? 

Reimena: I love thumbnailing (planning the layouts) and colouring. The longest steps (not necessarily hardest, but they can be) are writing and inking.

What kind of stories would you like to see from your region?

Reimena: In Malaysia and Southeast Asia, we already have so much talent. What I’d love to see are more opportunities for them to tell the kinds of stories they want to tell, and in as many genres and styles as possible. Comics are more than just the superheroes written, drawn and published by the US, or the stock humour genre in Malaysia. There should be more slice of life, sci-fi, fantasy, etc, for all audiences. Comics is a medium and I want comics to be seen as such by the public, with an industry to match.

What are some of the challenges that Southeast Asian creators face?

Reimena: The big challenge for SEA creators centres around three things: infrastructure, funding and outreach. Creators and the professionals in the industry aren’t well compensated and recognised for the work they make, which is bad for morale. That’s what unnamed (an online Southeast Asian comics collective I help manage) and all of its partnerships are trying to fix.

 

Spread from The Carpet Merchant of Konstantiniyya 

What would you say to someone who says “Comics are just for kids”, or the opposite, “Comics are not good for kids”?

Reimena: Comics can be for kids, but it’s not just for kids. It’s just another way to tell stories, like how films and novels do. It doesn’t make sense if someone points to Barney the Dinosaur and conclude that television is for kids when Game of Thrones or National Geographic exist.

The public and industry perceptions are that comics are limited in terms of target audience and genre. There are so many graphic novels out now for adults that cater to all sorts of interests and niches. Manga and European comics are especially good at this. Take a look at works like Sabrina by Nick Drnaso (the first graphic novel nominated for the Man Booker Prize), as well as Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi, Maus by Art Spiegelman or The Arrival by Shaun Tan which are taught in universities. There is a world of comics that exist outside of the American superhero genre, which not only includes Southeast Asia but also the internet.

And as for comics not being good for kids, the publishing statistics already contradict this. Kids LOVE comics. They are eating them up. The comics industry for kids is BOOMING. This means more kids going to bookstores and libraries. More kids meeting authors and artists. More kids inspired to read and to make their own stories. Why would any reasonable adult or teacher want to prevent the next generation of readers and writers/artists? Especially if comics are the ones driving more support for librarians, publishers, and booksellers. Just because reading habits have changed doesn’t mean they have changed for the worse. In fact, those new trends might be the very things that revive the love of reading in children.

Thanks for sharing your thoughts with us, Reimena. To see more of her work, go to reimenayee.com, or find her at Twitter @reimenayee.