What The Creator of Marvel’s Venom Taught Me About Writing [with an OOMPH!]
The best in their fields can teach us a lot
You probably know the menace in black who gave Spidey a headache.
But you probably do not know the creator of Venom.
His name is Todd McFarlane.
I had the opportunity to listen to his interview while commuting. This guy, man, he is opinionated. But this is also what I like.
He pulls no punches when sharing what he knows.
And he tells it as it is.
No fluff.
A candid view on art and words
Firstly, he is a comic penciler.
He draws things.
It is no surprise that Todd prioritizes drawings over words when he is asked this question.
“What is more important in comics? Story or artwork?”
Todd has a strong opinion on this. One that I respect.
“I have a complete and utter bias in my answer, and I am going to my grave with it. I can sell a comic book drawn by Michelangelo and written by my dog. But I cannot sell a book written by Shakespeare and drawn by my mum.”
I love this answer.
- He has an opinion.
- He uses colorful language.
- He gives examples and counterexamples.
His articulation is way better than articles drafted by artificial intelligence tools, even without drawings.
And Todd makes me think.
Selling, drawings, words.
What can I do to elevate my game as someone who writes online?
The limitations of a box
This advice — or perspective — I am going to share… is way better than eating your greens and committing to writing daily.
When Todd mentioned this in the interview with WIRED — I felt like I got punched in the face. Like an OOMPH!
“Every sheet of paper is 2D. You must create volume. Imagine I am drawing Spiderman. I put my right arm in front of me. Now I have a foreground, and my face is the midground. The other arm behind my head creates a background.”
I paused the video.
I opened the Word Document.
And I started staring at the box.
Todd is right. Whether in drawings or words, we operate in 2D. We are boxed in. The frames of our laptop boxed us in. The fringes of white space on Word have the same effect.
Going beyond requires volume.
What is volume?
In short, depth.
“Create as much depth as possible, and you will be a successful comic artist.”
To Todd, it is about foreground, midground, and background. Of course, he draws things. This is how he brings things to life.
What about us? All we have is words.
How do we add depth to our articles?
To me, depth can come from the following.
- Conversations,
- Characters,
- Struggles,
- Rhythm.
We can add depth to our words by breathing real life into our articles. Get real. Stay real.
Our fingers are not kissing the keyboard all the time. Chew on it.
We get out, we work, we socialize.
We talk, we whine, we piss.
We struggle, get tired, and occasionally win a video game stage before getting stuck again [Oh, for f**k’s sake!!].
These events, happenings, and moments make us human.
These events, happenings, and moments give depth to our words.
Right?
Right.
And then, there are imperfections.
Todd was addressing a question on drawing Venom.
He went through the key attributes as he sketched.
And then, he [suddenly] paused, faced the camera, and said this.
“I hate to see perfect teeth on Monsters. Go look at your dog. They are jagged and all over the place. Monsters don’t go to dentists.”
I love this arseh0le.
He hits me here [my heart].
Yes!
Monsters don’t go to dentists. They don’t have perfect teeth.
And yet, this is one [simple] thing we — writers online — never figured out.
We use words to glorify ourselves.
We are that perfect human being who gave up on coffee for 30 days and never suffered from caffeine withdrawal. We are that God-like hustle-bro who built a 6-pack in 90 days.
Yadda, yadda, yadda.
Todd has something to say about such comics or writing, by extension.
“The most boring superhero ever invented is Superman. Let me tell you why. He is perfect. The best comic characters have flaws. [It is] The decisions made along their journey make them human and relatable.”
Goodness me.
I [really] love this arseh0le.
He gets comics. And he gets writing, too.
Showcasing imperfections injects our words with a strong dose of realism.
And that… is my new epiphany.
I will find ways to inject imperfections into my w0rds. T@ bE hum*n. To ‘b’ real.
Maybe, and maybe, that is how I can take my writing one notch better.
Just one notch.
Yup.
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