Lunch Money (4 page)

Comic books had been part of Greg's life forever, mostly because of his dad's collection. Batman, Superman, The Flash, Spider-Man, Marvel Classics, Uncle Scrooge, and all the Disney comics—his dad's collection filled three shelves in the family room—and it was worth over ten thousand dollars. Once Greg had shown he knew how to take care of the comic books, he had been allowed to read and look at them all he wanted. Greg had even bought a few collectible comics of his own, mostly newer ones that weren't very expensive.

It was his love of comic books that had first gotten Greg interested in drawing. Comics had led Greg to books like
How to Draw Comic-Book Villains, You Can Draw Superheroes, Make Your Own Comic-Book Art,
and
Draw
the Monsters We Love to Hate.
Back in third grade Greg had used his own money to buy india ink, dip pens, brushes, and paper at the art supply store. And drawing new comic-book characters was one of his favorite things to do—when he wasn't earning money.

That whole summer before sixth grade Greg had worked toward the launch of Chunky Comics. From the start he had felt pretty sure he could come up with a story idea, and he knew he would be able to do the drawings.

But first he'd had to deal with a lot of
how
s: How does a whole comic book get put together? How big should each one be? How was he going to print them? How much would it cost him to make each one? And finally, how much money should he charge for his finished comic books—assuming he could actually make some?

But one by one, Greg had found the answers. An encyclopedia article about printing books had helped a lot. It showed how pages of a book start as one large sheet of paper that gets folded in half several times. Each time the sheet is folded, the number of pages is doubled. So Greg took a piece of regular letter-size paper, and folded it in half three times the way
it showed in the encyclopedia. That one piece of paper turned into a chunky little sixteen-page book—Chunky Comics. It was so simple.

But not really. Greg figured out that making little comic books was a ten-step process:

1. Write a story that can be told on twelve to fourteen mini–comic book pages.

 

2. Sketch, draw, ink, and then letter all sixteen minipages—which include the front and back covers.

3. Paste eight of the minipage drawings into their correct positions on a piece of paper to make “master copy one”—a sheet that can be copied again and again.

 

4. Paste up the other eight minipages to make “master copy two.”

 

5. Using a copier, print the images from “master copy one” onto one side of a “press sheet”—a piece of regular letter-size paper.

6. Print “master copy two” onto the flip side of the press sheet—making eight page images on the front, and eight on the back.

 

7. Carefully fold the press sheet with the sixteen copied minipages on it.

 

8. Put in two staples along the crease at the very center of the little book—between
pages 8
and
9
.

 

9. Trim the three unstapled edges—and that makes one finished mini–comic book.

 

10. Repeat.

And each of the ten steps had to be done perfectly, or no one would ever want to spend money on his little comics.

After all the
how
s had been settled, then came the writing. But Greg hadn't
written just one story. He had developed a master publishing plan. Volume 1 was going to be about Creon, an incredibly intelligent Stone Age hero who helped his tribe deal with ancient dangers, like prehistoric beasts and Cro-Magnon marauders. Greg figured there could be seven or eight issues about Creon.

Chunky Comics volume 2 would feature the future, where a superhero named Eeon tried to protect a small colony of humans living in a world of melting ice caps and mutant life-forms that were part human, part toxic sludge, and part recycled trucks and airplanes. Again, there would be seven or eight issues featuring Eeon.

Then Chunky Comics volume 3 would feature Leon, a fairly normal modern-age technodude who suddenly finds himself energized when his digital atomic watch overheats and burns its circuits into the nerves on his wrist. Leon learns that the watch can be set for the future or the past. The six or seven time-travel adventures of volume 3 would follow Leon to the past, where he would team up with Creon, and then to the future, where he would offer his services to the amazing Eeon. And eventually, all three characters would have some final
episodes together: Creon, Leon, and Eeon—past, present, and future.

Once the master plan was set, writing the first Creon story,
Return of the Hunter,
had been pretty easy for Greg. But the drawing was more difficult than he'd thought it would be. It had taken a long time to get each small page looking just the way he wanted. It wasn't like doodling or sketching. These pictures had to be good—good enough to sell.

When both covers and the fourteen inside pages had been drawn and inked and pasted in place to make the two master copies, Greg tackled his first printing.

The copier he used was his dad's, and it was actually part of the printer that was hooked up to the computer in the family room. It was an ink-jet printer, plus a scanner, plus a copier—one of those “all-in-one” machines. It made copies in either black and white or color.

Greg had stuffed about forty ruined sheets of paper into the recycling bin before he had figured out how to get all sixteen page images copied correctly onto the front and back of one sheet of paper.

But finally, he had folded his first perfectly
printed sheet, stapled it twice, and trimmed the top, front, and bottom edges. And then, one hot night in the middle of July, Greg stood there in his family room and thumbed through the very first copy of the very first issue of the very first volume of Chunky Comics. It had been a proud moment.

Greg had done some record keeping along the way. He added up all the time, and learned some bad news: It had taken him more than sixty hours to make that very first comic book. But there was good news too, because it took him only two more hours to print, fold, staple, and trim the next one hundred copies of volume 1, number 1.

As he'd worked on his drawing skills over the summer, Greg had gotten better—and faster, too. Plus he'd had fun. He had dug out all his old drawing books, looking for shortcuts and new tips from the pros. Drawing was something he could do at night, so he still got to enjoy his days outdoors, and also do the regular summertime jobs that kept money coming in.

Drawing and inking the pictures for the next two comic books had only taken him about twenty hours—nine to eleven hours each. And by the time school began in September, Greg
had the master copy pages for the next two Creon issues all put together and ready to print. Plus he had three hundred copies of
Return of the Hunter
printed, folded, stapled, trimmed, and ready to sell.

Making the comics had been fun, but Greg felt sure that selling them was going to be even better. If he kept the price at just a quarter per issue, the profits were still going to be fantastic. He had figured it all out. Ink for the copier was pretty expensive, but Greg had a kit for refilling the cartridges. All together, ink for one comic, plus one piece of paper, plus two staples cost him less than two cents. So, not counting his own time, selling one Chunky Comic book was like turning two pennies into a quarter. The money was going to come rolling in.

***

Digging around in the fruit cocktail on his lunch tray, Greg stabbed one of the cherry pieces with a fork. As he chewed the sweet fruit, Greg reviewed the sales figures again, and then shrugged.
Fifteen dollars and fifty cents—that's still not terrible. I mean, this is a brand-new business.

All things considered, Greg decided that
Chunky Comics was off to a pretty good start. And before lunch was over, Greg had hired Ted to become the first sales agent for Chunky Comics, offering him a nickel for every two copies he sold. So Greg was still hoping to reach that goal of selling one hundred units the first week.