Dichosis Studios at Perth Supanova 2013

Before I start I’d like to point out that this post will run over two parts and over two weeks. Part One will discuss my personal thoughts as an artist behind a table in Artist Alley and Part Two will navigate through my experiences over the last 6 months in establishing and running an independent comic studio. Really I’m aiming to address two different sets of people: the Artist and the Business person, though I often consider myself to be right in the centre of overlap as these halves come together. 

I guess I’ll start by answering the biggest question I had in my mind regarding conventions and that was, “what happens if I don’t turn a profit or make my table back?” I honestly don’t think it matters to the first time exhibitor. I came in with the firm belief that it would be difficult for me to make any real money and though I sold out of my book it was the people who didn’t buy anything but took my card or told a friend that really started to open doors for me. As an example I was approached for an on-the-spot interview with local Perth podcasters, Those Pod Damn Kids and received an email after the event inviting me to be a guest speaker at the Young Writers Festival later this year in December.

Being a comic artist means I have to accept the competition in my field/industry and play to my strengths.  I don’t have the collective 70 year back-catalogue available to the major independents nor do I have their fan loyalty and I certainly didn’t have any real brand awareness. This meant I had to work extra hard to ensure that the people who stop by even for a second come away with something positive. So how do you overcome the feeling that you won’t be noticed?

It comes down to what’s on your table, what’s behind you on the wall and how you present yourself. I generally had longer conversations with people who were just walking by and stopped when something caught their eye. I’d like to think it was because of my smile but mostly it was my original inks in the folio that made people stop and open up a conversation with me.

I had a theme for my studio: Everything Is Black. The problem was so was my table cloth. This thought only occurred to me a load-in on the Friday night. Luckily the floor wasn’t going to be open until the next morning so I had time to go back home an pick up the green mat that I place over my drawing desk to avoid scratching it when I’m on my laptop or my cat decides to randomly vault onto the fragile plastics that serve as art supply trays.

I took advantage of the room I had available to me on the table as well. I only had 3 piles of books (3 to 4 high) at the front of my table, bookmarks and badges behind them and then directly in front of me I had room for a couple of posters. Off the green mat to my right was my folio at the front and behind that an email list and business cards next to that. Less is more; and if you actually do have less to show, just display it in an interesting way.

I’m not like most artists able to slam out an A3 character print a day so my wall was pretty underwhelming in terms of volume. I overcame that by at least presenting my posters in a visually interesting way that resembled a checker-board pattern. Maybe my minimalist approach to the wall was borne out of necessity, but for those who didn’t know; it looked deliberate and probably was a positive departure from the seizure-inducing visual displays on either side.

Now we come to my personal presentation. I wrote a kind note and drew a sketch in back for EVERY customer that bought my book to show that I was really doing all this for them. You’d be surprised how many people will stop just to watch an artist work on something before their eyes. I’m in favour of this approach in comparison to drawing in a sketchbook with your head down for no particular reason. Draw like you’re at an event and not in your bedroom and you’ll see a real increase in the volume of sales.  Commissions are the exception to this rule of course, especially if they want to pick it up before the end of the convention in person.

I keep a cash box under the chair next to me with a $300 float (do NOT forget the float like I almost did). I kept a sales sheet for Saturday and Sunday on the chair next to me to keep track of my inventory across the weekend and when it wasn’t busy I just tried to maintain eye contact with the people on their way through.

On both days the amount of people in the convention centre seemed to drop dramatically at around 3pm. When this happened it became less about hawking my book and more about engaging people to give them the positive experience I mentioned earlier.  The last sale I made was to a friend of one of the very first people who came through in the first hour the day before. Then by remaining approachable after having sold out I managed to secure a few extra sales on back order.

When you have nothing left to sell, you should then sell yourself. I think that publicity is just as valid as a sale and probably even more important down the line when you come back for your second, third and future convention appearances. People may hold on to a bookmark with your name on it for longer than they will keep a book in plain sight once they’ve read it. At least that is my thinking.

So I guess that’s it. What happens after the convention is over is either based on your sales figures and out of the opportunities you helped to make. My hope is that regardless of your own individual experiences and regardless of whether or not you made any real money you will all continue to create and promote your work.

If I missed anything or you want to leave me with your comments feel free to post them up on this blog or over at the Dichosis Studios Facebook page. If you want to ask me any specific questions send me an email and I’ll be happy to help you out.

Till next week,

-          Marcus