Who
is... Donna Barr? Donna
Barr has been drawing since 1954, writing since 1962, published since 1986,
and publishing since 1996.
She has a Bachelors' Degree in German, and
is a veteran of the United States Army (1970-1973).
Readers worldwide
follower her THE DESERT PEACH, STINZ, BOSOM ENEMIES, HADER
AND THE COLONEL, among others.
She is recognized by her peers as
a pioneer in the field of drawn books and their use in new technologies of distribution
and reproduction. She is a contributor to the world's largest webcomics site,
moderntales.com, and its affiliate
sites.
She achieved her lifetime career goal in 2004 when her life's
work -- past, present and future -- has been accepted as part of the San Diego
State University's Library's Special Collection, and will be available to students
and professors for research, and to the public for exhibits.
She can
be emailed at barr at stinz dot com (remove spam barriers). She answers. Keep
the sentences short.
Mistress Obstruction's Advice To The Love-Clumsy By Donna Barr
Remember how I said that "bitch" was what a guy called a gal when he was pulling stuff and she called him on it? One of the guys emailed me and said he'd post the "true story" in his blog.
Post away. I don't put stuff in this column because I think nobody will read it and I can get away with it. But do remember the Chekov story.
I was going to get into details, but this is a helpful column (it is so!!), so I'll take the next step and give everybody a few lessons on basic social rules at a business convention.
1. Wait for the girl to hit on you. Girls these days don't go with the nonsensical patriarchal rules; they're acting much more like natural females. In nature, the guy struts and shows off; it's the girl who decides who she wants and approaches (except mallard ducks, where too often the girl ends up drowned, so somehow they've got into the same stupid cycle humans have got into). If nobody approaches you, then be happy with your comic book collection before POD puts it out of business. Or get cuter. If she grabs your ass, you're probably on firm ground (oh, now watch the smart-ass bitches come around and do this to poor fan boys just to mess them up -- stop that! Or maybe it will just make his day. What do I know?).
2. If the girl pushes you away, or takes your arm from around her neck (what's it doing there in the first place, dork??) or sits with crossed arms looking into a dark corner while you yammer away, or looks over her shoulder to make sure nobody's listening -- SHE'S NOT INTERESTED.
3. NEVER bring a girl's husband into the conversation. She'll bristle. That's her business. If she wants to bitch to you about him, shut up and listen. Or bitch about your girlfriend. You're probably not in a situation where you might get sexed -- she might just see you as a buddy to snark with. She may have FRIENDS who will think you're cute. Stay on her good side.
4. If she goes to lunch with you at a business convention, it's probably for BUSINESS. Don't babble sex-talk for a half hour while you embarass her and yourself. This is not complimentary, and does not feed her ego. It's obnoxious, intrusive, and socially blind. It will take her a while to get over the shock and then gods help you.
5. I'm sorry for calling these guys "high-school." Today's high-school boys are so much more together with their gal pals. No, they are, girls. They're just cooler. Hell, these boys knit! Our generation is stuck in the '50's and have no clue at ALL. Why do you think we had a women's movement?
Now, I think I've figured out why I got hit on so hard at SDCC. There are some snarky rumours going around about laying me at conventions.
They ain't true.
A number of people pretend to be me at conventions, so some people think I'm a hunchback, others think I'm tiny and blond (if a reader hadn't laughed her out of the comics shop she'd have got away with signing my books, which I told my reader she should have let her do), others think I have CF, some think I am DEAD -- a woman put a Desert Peach #1 up on ebay for $174.00 thinking she had a dead-author chance. When I emailed her asking her what she was thinking, talk about surprise and disappointment! People have stood and argued that I'm not me, because they think they've already met me. With the cane and the lungs. I'm evidently having a lot more fun than I know about.
For all I know, somebody laid one of the clones, and the rumor took off. I can't keep track of this crap.
Well, no matter. Friends of Lulu was in high dudgeon over the way girls are backed into dark corners by industry guys, and then are afraid to reveal the behavior for fear of losing their jobs (is this proof this industry is stuck in the 1950's or what?). Females in this industry have to fear everything from legal threats to stalking to further harrassment from the very people who acted like fools with us in the first place. Lulu knows what the women are dealing with, and, as they claim, are putting their money where their mouth is.
Who knows? Just because other industry people pull this on the new girls on the block, doesn't mean it can be pulled on the biggest yap in the industry; a Sergeant Major in the army screwed up thinking he could use me as a rumor machine -- but then gave me an order to keep silent. I never thought I'd see a SMAJ with his mouth hanging open, speechless. It was worth having to cringe behind the Captain (More in: Permanent Party ).
The new crop of girls got male colleagues who believe them and won't abandon them like the Good Old Boys. Here's a word to the guys who need to be told this -- THINK (write it in red and hang it over your computer stations). And don't believe everything you hear.
I'm not worried that anybody I've had to put in their place won't work with me. Why would I want to work with them again? Or with anybody who would work with them? I've always gone around these middle-men gate-keepers, especially when they pull crap like this on me. Fantagraphics once called me "unstoppable" (not, I think, as a compliment). You could probably stop me with a hammer, but it would be messy.
Has nobody else read the POD article in The Comics and Games Retailer? I don't need distributors, brokers or even printers now -- my royalty payments with the POD companies are growing by the pay-period, and the CBG will print any ad you pay them to print. What can anybody threaten to take away from me? I never had anything from these guys -- I only had my readers. You can't control people you don't own.
What do the people who giggle at my writing care about what caught-at-it industry schills say? None of them can ever have any hold on me ever again. Or any other creator. They're pissed off, scared and crazy. It's a joy to watch. Can I buy popcorn?
Hell, they left me out of the small-press panel at SDCC this year, and the audience ended up asking all the questions only I could answer, to the point where Batton Lash (bless his heart) told people who showed up later at the booth: "Go ask Donna Barr! She knows all this stuff!"
And I'll share; I never keep the good stuff to myself. Email me and I'll give you all the good URLs. And help you out, if you give it the old college try and genuinely don't understand it (tho' Lulu.com has responsive forums).
I ain't saying who, but a creator I told ALL about POD at SDCC clasped hands together and gushed: "I can publish the stuff my publisher would never let me get away with!" And when you find out who that is, your brains will whirl around in your skull. If you think the ALLOWED stuff is crazy, wait until this creator gets the means of production in said creator's hot little hands.... :P.
Again and again, I've seen that the artists and writers are generally the only people you can trust in this industry. A very few middlemen are as decent and honest as the creators, and can be trusted in all events. Edd Vick (MU Press), Mark Thompson (Coldcut), Joey Manley (Webcomicsnation). Gee, it's always the same list, isn't it?
I will admit I usually don't sit on my hands and let anybody get away with anything around me. My colleagues used to direct troublesome customers to me during trade shows and then watch gleefully while I took the guy's face off. Loudly. By then I was usually tired, torqued-off and felt like the Barbie at the end of Toy Story II -- "Can I quit smiling now? My face hurts." If my colleagues hadn't been smart enough to stand behind their tables and far away, I'd have bounced something off their heads. And whoever sent me the verbose glassy-eyed guy with the Luftwaffe plane serial-and-insignia-number fixation, I'm gonna get you yet. So you better keep hiding.
I only have so much time. I don't have time for SOB's with ego problems. What time I have -- daily or lifelong -- I need to save up for the decent people in my life, who deserve it. The helpful folks, or the young artists who want help, who are actually concerned about our art form as an art form, and not wrapped up in being the big publisher-man or deals broker or editor-with-humble-artist-stable. The mean ones I got no time for, and if they do stuff I name names. Why not? If they've done it with me they've done it to other people, they got stuff to hide. I don't (as this column shows, in the worst way, so you'd better just blame those schmucks at Silver Bullet).
Yup, a lot of people are pissed off at me. It's the price of a short temper, a knowledge of mortality, and an inability to put up with hypocrisy, mendacity and rigidity (And I didn't mean that. You people!).
We are known by our enemies. I'm proud of my little shit list.
