"Mood for Love" Part 4: Publishing the series!!!
The end of June was approaching, and I couldn't believe that I had actually stuck to my schedule and the series was finished. That fourth episode was a doozy, but seeing the light at the end of the tunnel helped me push through. In my original schedule, I had planned for a few extra days which was perfect because even in my meticulous planning I had forgotten the series would need marketing materials like thumbnails, a series summary, etc. Also there were a few technical glitches that I hadn't accounted for with exporting and uploading the episodes, so the extra time really saved me from a last minute nervous breakdown.
I hit the upload button and the project was complete.
I had just completed my first webcomic!
Even my hyper critical brain couldn't help but congratulate myself for my commitment and growth over the past 1.5 months.
I posted about the series on Instagram and shared a link with my close friends. I was instantly surrounded by so much love and positivity. Friends are the best, aren't they?
I would not have survived this entire process without my friends. They offered feedback on my first drafts, and uplifted me every time I thought I wouldn't be able to finish the series. It was kind of like a whole family cheering on a baby as she takes her first steps. Even though the baby is wobbly and awkward, every adult praises it because who's so heartless as to deprecate a baby? I'm thankful to say that as a baby artist, I was shown the exact same generosity.
A few hours later, I was hit out of nowhere with this feeling of inadequacy. It's funny how abruptly the brain can shift from elation to depression. I don’t remember what specifically triggered it, but I think I had looked over a few other submissions and realized just how far I had to go as an artist. Again, I never entered this competition expecting to win, but it was intimidating to see the sheer amount of submissions, and acknowledge one's own level (nothing kills confidence like comparison)
Even though my logical brain recognized there was no reason to feel this way, my heart persisted, and I quietly confided my feelings in one of my closest friends, a fellow illustrator. She tenderly pointed out to me that she read some other submissions that showed more technical skill then mine, but she still liked mine better because of how much "heart" it had. And she had a really good point -- the purpose of art isn't to be perfect, it's to make people feel something.
It's really empowering to understand that even a crappy drawing can still make someone feel something. Today, with a year behind me, I have revisited my webcomic and it actually looks "worse" than I remember. Gestures are weird, proportions are off, yadda yadda. Obviously I see these things now because I've improved.
BUT that just makes my friend's point even more powerful. Despite all the new flaws I see in the work today, I cannot deny all the beautiful responses I received when the work was first published. People looked past the flaws and enjoyed the story. So now I can move forward in my art career knowing that even in my most juvenile phase, I still made art that affected someone, so no matter how bad I feel about my skill in future, I don't have worry as long as the work has heart. It sounds cheesy, but it’s a heartening thing to believe in.
Lessons Learned:
For the love of god, budget extra time in your project timeline
Let your friends take care of you, especially if you are a baby (literally and metaphorically speaking)