An Honest Discussion of Digital Comics

An Honest Discussion of Digital Comics

With the introduction of devices like Apple’s iPad, the comic book industry is coming to a crossroads similar to that of the book publishing industry and the e-reader, or the music industry and the MP3 player. The result is a lot of fans who aren’t sure which way to go. Digital downloads bring with them the promise of compact or non-existent storage, lower prices, and more simplified delivery over wireless connections. However, the comic book industry has a tactile, personable aspect to its sales that can’t be matched when it comes to books, or even music. The experience of holding and turning the page is unique in comics — flipping from a set of pages separated into frames to tell a narrative story and turning to a detailed two-page action-filled spread that explodes off the page simply doesn’t happen in novels. And brick-and-mortar comic book establishments carry high the banner of personable service, and even inter-customer experience. Comic shops are places where the traditionally outcast can come together and geek out over the things they love in a safe environment. You could maybe say the same of the music industry and its heydays in the 60’s, 70’s, and 80’s. Customers would spend the day sifting through used vinyls to find that gem they’d forgotten, and talk about small bands whose music was under-appreciated.

Only, the comic book industry is unique in that even with all it has going for it in the brick-and-mortar realm, shops are struggling to get by, small publishers are closing up shop left and right, and creative decisions are becoming more and more business-driven. Unlike music or books, the comic industry desperately needs digital distribution to be a success. An in-store comic book purchase will run you $3-$4, with a good chunk of that going to delivery, distribution, publication, and a fraction to the shop owner (who is likely the guy behind the counter). Profit margins are slim, and there’s little room for the price of a comic to go up (are you going to pay $8 for 40 pages of pictures?). Then consider what the publisher gets from digital distribution: there are no delivery trucks, there’s no ink, there’s no paper. There’s only $2 of profit going right to the publisher’s pocket. Pay the artist, pay the writer, keep the rest. This models opens up a new world for the publisher, and the possibility of a return to profitability. Not only are they going to get more income per sale, they’re going to bring in those buyers who were too lazy or otherwise unwilling to venture to a comic shop. It could bring in a whole new market.

The lingering question is whether or not comics will survive the digital threshold. With the move to digital distribution, comics instantly loses all the things that make it special as a piece of media. Though I could easily subscribe over mail to the comic books I read and get them delivered to my home like I could a magazine, I choose to stop by my local comic shop and get my titles. I choose to browse the shelves, and I choose to pick up impulse purchases. I choose to talk to the shop owner about the cool things they’ve read, and what other people are saying about what they’re reading. I choose to buy plastic protectors and cardboard inserts, so I can keep these comics over time — not as an investment, but as a treasure. Adopting digital media comics would force me to lose all of these things; frankly, things I don’t think I could enjoy comics without.

This past weekend Marvel Comics announced their iPad application, where the publisher seeks to sell digital copies of its comic books, retailing each issue at the cost of $1.99. The application also allows access to motion comics, like Bendis’s Spider-Woman. It’s a more complete multimedia experience. But it doesn’t have a storefront, and it doesn’t have a community of people you can talk to face-to-face about your mutual obsessions. While I have to root for the success of this model so that business like Marvel Comics can maintain their print publications and possibly return to profitability and make more decisions based on creative talent and direction instead of necessary profit, I don’t have to like it. I’d rather everybody who went and saw the superhero movies of the past decade go to their local comic book shop and pick up a subscription. But the future of comics just may march on without me.