Golf with Cats, Pt. 3: Storm Clouds at the Finish Line
We worked kind of backwards in retrospect. We had an idea, a concept. They brought it to me, and I imagined the world and the characters over weeks of back and forth, texting late at night, between meetings and other duties. When we had every page in focus, and the vision was clear enough for us to dig in and adjust, we did. I realized as much as I want to share my work as an artist, this dynamic quickly took some of that creative energy out of the tank.
I'd sit for hours at a time after receiving notes to make sure the "illustrations" matched expectation. I'd update pages and play with positioning for copy, then we'd get in a Zoom call and do it all again. It was a necessary step in boundary finding. I think for the most part I'm quite gracious with criticism and input, but I have always been a storm cloud. Even when I'm keeping my composure, people can feel the psychic rage welling around my insides.
It's a weird position to be in. Emily and Matt seemingly "got it" while still having a vision of their own. There was some tiptoeing towards the end of this process, as we all had reached the peak of anxiety with the finish line in sight. There were moments where I thought we were going to blow the whole thing up, but that's mostly my own internal friction. I kept it in my mind that while yes, I built all of this and it's my baby, it's theirs too. I started off much more detached, but as more and more Zoom meetings took place and the more attached I was, the harder it was to concede to alter some of my illustrative choices.
It reached a head recently. We had discussed finalization and submitting to the publisher, and I was scrambling to ensure the files were properly formatted, that they'd export correctly, and that we reached a stopping point on edits and adjustments, cross-checking that I included the correct ISBN and details necessary for the proper version of the book for submission. I had submitted everything after finally getting the export to cooperate, and when it came time to approve and hit print, Emily and Matt got hung up on details. (internal alarm bells) Something I had already conceded to the process, and to time. Ultimately the timeline doesn't exist, but when I'm given one, I have a really hard time letting that go, and I knew we were already past our original plan of finishing in October and I didn't want to miss the November window.
I spent some additional time with the files and a list of changes provided by Emily and Matt, some of which were oversight, and some were things we could have sorted sooner with a better organized plan. I had already flattened and unified most of the images and went a bit overboard in my pass. We met for a final Zoom this Sunday to pull back some of my additions and give every page a touch of polish before submitting again.
To say I'm relieved to be done with this particular project would be an understatement. Not because I hated the process, actually the opposite. For the first time in my life I feel like I have an idea of the direction I'm headed in. I learned so much about myself, and my own artwork, and about the process of bringing things together. We've joked about future projects: a coloring book, a book explaining baseball, so many possibilities. Unsure if we'll pursue those or not, but if you're following me, expect more of this. I have so much of my own content I could transform into books and stories.
It's a little overwhelming. It feels like I'm at the start of something big.
← Pt. 1: Out of Body on the Golf Course | ← Pt. 2: Doing It Live in Green Purgatory