1. The actually fun part. I scrabble and doodle and brainstorm until I've got something I like. I just use some cheap copy paper and a mechanical pencil, then scan it and darken it in picmonkey so it's more visible. Most of my ideas come from real life or from other people's ideas: in this case, these two dorks are reenacting an exchange between me and one of my sisters. My thought process here was A) Aksel is like head and shoulders over Sigrun that is so freakin' cute. B) I bet that he hugs on her all the time C) Hahaha, "Amoeba." (Some of the other stuff on here might get developed further: probably not, though.)
2. Things start getting less fun. I actually figure out the technicalities of getting my joke across: how many panels, can I squish them, words where and how, etc. I'm still excited at this point, but this is when I start to get that sinking feeling. It's just not very good, you know?
3. "Fair copy." Actually worse than the first draft, if that was possible. Who the heck am I kidding. This is a stupid idea, I'm a horrible excuse for an artist, I can't ever do anything good, and why do I even try. Why am I still drawing. You know what? I'm not going to do it. I'm not going to finish it. You can't make me, I refuse. I'm going to bed and never doing anything ever again because look at how ugly and awful and UGH why do I inflict my stuff on other people. Because I'm a needy egoist, that's why. I hate myself so much, I hate my work, I hate the world, I hate this pencil, I hate this paper, I hate this comic, I hate everything. I just want to go to sleep and never wake up again.
Then I scan it, darken it, put it on the forum, people say nice things, I melt into a happy puddle, and later repeat the process all over again, loathing everything I've ever drawn before.
And that, my friends, is the definition of insanity.
