It’s been the story of my life for quite some time, feeling like the person standing out in the rain looking through the window while people he knows are warm and dry inside having a great time. In high school, I was the outsider. I wasn’t cool enough to hang with the cool crowd, not geeky enough to hang with the geeks and not athletic enough to hang with the jocks. I travelled between cliques, bouncing around to acquaintances I had in each group. Some of the friends I made were through whatever girlfriend I had at the time and the circle she hovered in, the band, the chorus, but I still felt like the outsider, only there because of someone else.

Fast forward to today, the present…well, the past 5 or 6 years at least. I’ve been toying around with cartooning since the third grade, the last years of elementary school were the last years I really belonged to a crowd, and although my stuff was rough, I was making improvements both in writing and drawing, steadily. I tried my hand at breaking through the syndication side, but again, on the outside looking in. I could never break through. Brought it to the internet and picked up a few dozen fans here and there, but nothing huge like I saw others achieve…on the outside looking in.

I followed the guides, the how-to’s, joined the major social media networks, became interactive, joined a few collectives along the way and watched as whatever I did, as others did and achieved moderate success, major success, amounted to nothing earth shattering. I read the sad stories other creators had and sympathized with them, sharing their stories, their new endeavors, helping them boost their likes and watched as in one day, they gained 500 and the next 1000. I put out my own pages, asking for help in getting eyeballs on and sat, one day, 2 or 3 likes, the next, nothing, slow trickles until I reached, with Willow’s Grove 144 likes and with the novel I self published…forty-two…42. On the outside looking in. Hell, the amount of money I made on sales of Accidental Earthling last year was so small, the tax software I used just laughed at me after putting in the number and replaced it with a zero…a big fat goose egg. Not even enough to claim on taxes.

I’m not writing this for sympathy, just as an outlet to release it from my shoulders, or an attempt to as I, like many others, am struggling through the years, wondering just how long until I pop, until the money runs out completely, that day to day stress, the unknowing, the wondering why I’m always the one on the outside looking in. Sure, people I talk to say I’m good, I’m funny, I shouldn’t give up, that one day it’ll happen. I’ve been waiting for that one day to happen for nearly 30 years now, hitting the streets, the internet, peddling my wares, pressing the flesh, getting smiles and nods, but still, here I am outside that big, glass window, standing in the rain while others are inside and having a great time.

No more. You want me to like something, sure, like me back. You want me to promote your craft, absolutely, as long as you return the favor. You want me to feel sympathy to your plight and lend a shoulder to cry on, go right ahead, I have two, big, strong shoulders for you to rest your weary head upon and cry a river of tears, but just remember, I have troubles too and you had better take the time to listen to my troubles and offer your shoulders back. Otherwise, hey, sorry to hear, hope you do well, but *shrugs*, I’ve got a mountain of the same over here.

As you know, I’ve been toying with a spin-off comic of Willow’s Grove based on the life of Nick on his home island of Piggypork. I’ve actually had it in the pipe since Nick’s first appearance way back when in 2009 but have put it off and put it off. Now, I’m at a point where I don’t know if I will ever bring it into full production, although I think it would be a nice addition to the Willow’s Grove family of products. Why? You may be asking yourself. Simply put, the Law of Diminishing Returns. Let me explain. See, I produce Willow’s Grove for all you Grovers to enjoy Monday through Friday without fail. I’ve also written and published one novel, Accidental Earthling that has experienced very little success as far as sales. I wrote a sequel to this novel, called Sea of Stars and was offered a publishing deal through a hybrid publishing house, but the catch is, I have to put money up front in order for it to be published. I could go the route I used for Accidental Earthling, which was self-publishing, but my publicity attempts, my social media buzz attempts, have brought me very small sales. How small? Royalties claimed on taxes from the sales were so small, they were actually counted as no sales whatsoever. I’ve got a third novel in the final chapters of the rough draft stage, but my excitement level has dropped from WOW to meh. I really see no point in continuing the writing process of it, but yet, I seemed compelled to complete it, just so I can say, “well, that’s over with.”

Which brings me back to the Law of Diminishing Returns and Subtropic. Why should I bother producing a second comic when it will most likely gather more dust than anything else and I should just concentrate all my efforts into one project with that one project being Willow’s Grove. I may be wrong, but, hey, that’s just how I feel at the moment. So enjoy this sneak peek into Nick’s world and what might be, but most likely it will be more like, what could have been.

*Note: Mr. Freen’s opinions do not reflect the views of The Willow’s Grove Gazette*

What’s with these kids today?! For quite some time I’ve kept my trap shut, but after sitting down to a meal at Floyd’s Diner and having a pair of underbritches shoved in my face by a young whippersnapper wearing his pants down to nearly his knees, sporting a look the youngsters call ‘sagging’, I could no longer hold my tongue. Sure, it’s a fashion statement, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it! Not one bit! Nor do I feel I have to have it waved in my face when I’m trying to force down Floyd’s excuse for a hot meal. His food is bad enough to keep down on its own, but to have someone’s bottom and their checkered drawers waving around like some God-awful flag, it took all the strength I have left to keep that roast beef from flying out of my mouth and soiling this kid’s underwear.

Look, I’ve shared in the fads of my youth, wearing full length swimming attire, sitting on flagpoles, swallowing goldfish, but I never once flashed my drawers in someone’s face! Heck, the name of this fashion fad reminds me of what my skin does on a daily basis. If it wasn’t for my support garments, and please pardon my French, but this has to be said to make my point painfully clear, my nether regions would get a right, awful pinch every time I sat myself down to one of Floyd’s tasteless dishes.

So pull up your pants, youngsters! You may be trying to make a statement, but the only statement I see is that you bought pants that were too darn big and forgot to put yer dang belt on!