Have a listen here.
Despite being surrounded by friends, the fact we were recording had me nervous. After shooting the breeze for an hour in the studio, Phil and Brian and I all wished we could go back and tweak our words much like we would when we write.
Not that we said anything wrong--except for me, because I apparently am prepared to "step on throats".
About that: speaking for myself, the more I learn about working in comics the more fascinated and paranoid I become. Fascinated because of all that's involved with being a creator; marketing yourself and your book while pursuing your ambitions. And also paranoid that by saying or doing the wrong thing, a door will be closed to you, opportunities will go to someone else, or you'll be stonewalled by your peers.
So it was after the recording I found myself resisting the urge to write a preemptive blog clarifying any statements I made, answering questions no one asked, rebuffing arguments no one was making. Shit got pretty real in my head for like, five hours. I won't bother doing that now.
I will say this though: it's tough freelancing. Trying to support a family on an indie artist's income is even tougher, namely because indie artists usually don't have incomes (from comics anyway). You don't get anywhere without working hard, and even when you're working your hardest, you secretly pray for a break. If you're lucky, you make friends who share your plight, and maybe they'll hold open a door for you when the time comes. Still and all, the process is often intimidating and sometimes maddening. As a relative newcomer, I feel my grasp on most of these matters is infantile. I'm still learning so much. Like the kid on the playground, I want to be accepted by the guys I look up to. I want to work streadily because my art is in demand.
So listen to the podcast. It's harmless fun. If you think I'm a dick like I feared people would, I welcome you to discuss it with me here in the comments.