FOXTROTTING
Bill
Amend at Ten and Nearly Twenty
On the eve of FoxTrot’s tenth
anniversary (well, in April 1996, two years before, but still, on the “eve”), I
interviewed Bill Amend for Cartoonist
PROfiles. The interview was published in
September 1998 (in No. 119), by which time, the strip had celebrated its tenth
anniversary on April 10, 1998. But even two years before, when I interviewed
him as the strip was on the cusp of its eighth anniversary, Amend was beginning
to feel the effects of the never-ending grind of meeting two deadlines a week,
one for the daily strips and one for the Sunday, the grind that finally wore
him down enough that he decided, last fall, to discontinue the daily FoxTrot. But Amend still loves cartooning; it’s the
deadlines that wore him out. So he is continuing to produce FoxTrot but, now—starting January 7, 2007—meeting
only one deadline a week with just the Sunday strip (see Opus 199 for details).
A lot less grinding. What follows here is that 1998 article, more-or-less
intact —with only a few minor adjustments, including information imported from
an earlier PROfiles piece that
appeared in December 1989 in No. 84. Here we go:
Bill
Amend’s FoxTrot comic strip with
Universal Press Syndicate will be nineteen years old ten years old on April 10,
2007, but the characters haven’t aged a day. The Fox family remains exactly as it was when they debuted almost
twenty years ago. Roger, the husband and father, is still “trying to master the
technologies of the time” and leaving crisis management to his wife, Andy. And she is “the sanest of the lot,”
according to Universal’s press kit. Mother, housewife, professional writer, and grievance mediator, she
“always wanted to have lots of children; now she knows better.”
The children include: Peter, the
eldest, a highschool senior with a bottomless stomach, who forgets that such
activities as football, baseball, and soccer are meant to take place outdoors;
Paige, his highschool freshman sister, desperately waiting for Mr. Right (or
Mr. Almost Right, or Mr. Almost Almost Right, or—) while being driven nuts by
her younger sibling, Jason, who is only ten years old but is a genius and whose
hobbies are tormenting his sister and planning world domination. And then there’s Quincy, Jason’s pet iguana,
who “eats, sleeps, and throws up on Paige’s pillow— the perfect pet.”
Said Amend: “I like to think of the
Foxes as a typical suburban American family but with their eccentricity knobs
turned way up into the red zone.” The
plot is simple: it’s a family, and the kids push each other’s buttons while the
parents try to keep up.
“I’m deliberately not aging them,”
Amend told me when we talked in April 1996. “I won’t say I will never age them, but I think the dynamic I’ve created
is one that gives me a lot of possibilities to work with. Jason is at that wonderfully obnoxious age
where he doesn’t like girls and he’s old enough to be dangerous. He can figure out all sorts of ways to
harass his siblings. And Peter’s old
enough that he can drive and go out with girls, but he’s not particularly
worldly wise, and his social skills still need a lot of development. And Paige is number two, somewhere in
between—not quite a girl, not quite a woman; hasn’t really dated. If I age them, all that changes, maybe not
to the detriment of the strip— For Better
and For Worse has done a wonderful job of maintaining a level of quality
and humor just by changing— but I, for now, don’t feel that I have exhausted
all the potential that I’ve got, and until then, I’ll probably continue.”
I asked him, as the strip passed its
eighth anniversary, if there was anything he would do differently if he had it
all to do over again.
Amend thought. And then he said: “If I was starting the strip all over again, I think I would
probably go with a different art style. The style I’m using now— I deliberately stuck their noses off to the
side of their eyeballs to create a cockeyed two-dimensional look. Which is neat, but it only works with
profiles. And after eight years, there
are times when I really wish I could employ a little different perspective or
use three-quarters views.
“I’m comfortable drawing this way,”
he continued, “but it does limit me tremendously. It’s the sort of thing you don’t notice the first year or so of
the strip’s run, but after eight years, when you look back— well, gosh, I
really get tired sometimes of drawing these characters looking in profile at
each other all the time. I’m not sure
what I’ll do long-term. Whether I’ll
just keep them the way they are or gradually evolve the art. Maybe I’ll buy one of those computer morphing
programs,” he said with a grin.
“If I was starting all over,” he
concluded, “I’d definitely take little pieces of clay and do three-dimensional
sculptures to figure out how they’d all look from every angle. The times I have my headaches are when I
have to draw Jason from above, or something like that. I just go nuts.”
Amend chose to do a strip about a
family because he was in one. Although
he wasn’t married when he conceived the strip, he was living at home with his
parents (he had already graduated from Amherst College), and he had three
younger siblings, all teenagers.
Said he: “What appealed to me about
doing a family strip— apart from the fact that I was in a family at the time
and surrounded by teenagers— was that there are aspects of family life that are
universally understood. A lot of the
dynamics in relationships are pre-defined, or close enough to being pre-defined
that people can pick up on them pretty quickly. You’ve got the parents, and they are the authority figures;
you’ve got the kids who are the ones to rebel. You’ve got siblings and they tend to clash. You don’t have to do as much exposition as you might, say, in
office life strip. In an office life
strip, you’d have to constantly remind the readers who’s the boss and who’s the
underling. Here, it’s pretty
clear. The bald guy is the dad, and the
three-foot-high kid is the kid. So I
liked that, and that let me concentrate on giving them eccentricities within that
framework.”
From the beginning, Amend has
written the strip from the perspective of the kids. “If you look at a lot of
other family strips,” he explained, “you get the sense that they are about
parents interacting with the kids and the punchline is always, Oh— kids say the
darndest things.”
I said: “But you’re not being parental about your kids. You’re not putting them down or holding them
up as oddities.”
“No, no—not at all,” Amend
said. “And I’m assuming my readers are
able to put themselves in the shoes of the kids in the strip the same way I am.
The strip has been fairly successful with younger readers,” he continued. “I get the sense that a lot of family strips
are written for an audience that is over forty. I’ll write a strip, and I’ll mention a video game that I know my
parents have never heard of. And so I’m
hopeful that my older readers will indulge me for that one day, and let me make
a joke that a twelve-year-old might enjoy.”
Amend tries to write a week’s worth
of strips on a single day. “I find it’s easier for me to be funny one day a
week— to be really funny one day a
week—than to be a little funny seven
days a week. I basically eat a big
dinner the night before and think about the strip when I go to bed, and then
when I wake up the next morning, I drink a lot of coffee and write and write
and write and write. I use the rest of
the week to draw the strip. Generally,
it takes me two days to draw the dailies, and a day-and-a-half, maybe, to do a
Sunday strip. I generally start working
in the mid-to-late morning and try to call it quits by seven p.m.,” he went
on. “Once a week, on the eve of my
deadline, I end up working past midnight, but that’s just me. I can’t believe other cartoonists would be
that masochistic.”
Almost all of them are, of course.
“To start with, I write the
dialogue,” Amend continued. “I might do
a few thumbnail sketches. Typically in
writing, I do just enough sketching so I can get a sense of where the
characters are in relation to each other. Occasionally, I’ll have an idea for a strip that is a visual gag, but
even then, it comes to me in my head: I’m not sketching when the idea
comes. I’m more comfortable with words
than I am with pictures.”
I asked if he changes what he has
written as he draws the strip.
“Frequently,” he said. “Once in a while, I’ll change things at two
o’clock in the morning, and wake up the next day and say, What the heck was I
thinking.”
I noticed that there’s often a
second bounce to his punchline in the last panel. The second bounce seems to build on and extend the first
bounce. And that double-bounce seemed
to me to indicate that he tinkered with his punchline as he drew.
Amend agreed: “It’s that last line
of dialogue that gets changed the most. Often when I write the strip, I end it with a traditional sort of
punchline, and there might a bland follow-up comment. I find it difficult to have a character on the right side of that
last panel who is not reacting. They
have to say something. I might
initially write the strip with them saying something, but after I’ve put the
time and effort into the actual drawing, I look at it, and say, Gosh, this
seems to fall flat; is there any way I can improve it? Frequently, I’ll go through six or seven
endings— at midnight, usually— and hopefully, I’m not too delirious by then.”
Observing that his strip is
intensely character-driven, I rattled on: “I would venture to guess that
there’s a high percentage of your strips that wouldn’t be funny if you didn’t
know the characters: the humor originates in the personalities of the
characters, and they are each different. I’m sure that if I were drawing the strip, I would be thinking about the
lives of these characters as I’m drawing, which would lead me into other
avenues where I’d come up with a different punchline than the one I’d started
with.”
Again, Amend agreed: “The writing
process is very mysterious to me. It’s
almost like the branches of a tree. I
may start in one place, and I think in my head that I’m going to Point A, but
by time I get to the third panel, I’ve branched off somewhere else. And suddenly a whole week’s worth of strips
will come out of that. And it’s
entirely because of some piece of dialogue that I hadn’t planned on that’s
flowed out of the mouth of one of these characters.”
Character and storytelling are the
driving forces in Amend’s creative process. He originally thought he might be a filmmaker.
“What me interested me in
filmmaking,” he said, “was the notion of storytelling and how the characters
react and interact— with humor. Mad magazine, Monty Python, and all
that. But I’d always drawn little
cartoons to amuse myself. I’d never
planned to be a cartoonist. I was going
to be a Steven Spielberg or George Lucas and make Star Wars movies. But cartooning worked well for me in
college: I got positive feedback from friends, and I thought, Well, this is
potentially something I could explore as a career, and I sent off to syndicates
and got rejection letters that were somewhat encouraging. So I kept at it.”
With filmmaking in mind, Amend
thought he’d major in English or Drama at Amherst. But after taking a number of
drama courses, he didn’t think he was learning anything “good and solid.” About
then, he took a physics course. “And since I’d always been mathematically
inclined, I loved it.” So he majored in physics. But all four years in college,
he drew an editorial cartoon for the campus newspaper. Between his junior and
senior year, he tried his hand at a comic strip, submitting a week’s worth of
samples to syndicates. The strip didn’t sell, but one syndicate responded
favorably, asking to see more, a response that led Amend to decide, after
graduating, to “postpone a serious job search in favor of spending three or
four months to develop the strip.” The strip was entitled Bango Ridge.
“It was about an animal psychologist
who goes off to Bango Ridge in the jungle to study animals, and it turns out
that most of them are more human than he is,” Amend said. “They’re running
around with Michael Jackson records, and you can imagine what else was involved
in that kind of scene.”
Again, he received a number of
rejection letters and a couple encouraging ones. He decided to try another
comic strip. By this time, he had a day job in animation that evolved into
another job with a new movie production facility in San Francisco. At night, he
developed FoxTrot and started sending
samples off to syndicates. Receiving encouragement from a couple syndicates, he
did more samples and, again, sent them off to all the syndicates on his list.
Lee Salem at Universal Press wanted to see more.
“Following this,” Amend continued
during the 1989 interview, “Lee wrote me a long letter, going over some of the
concerns the syndicate had, what they thought the strong points and the weak
points of the strip were. ... The strip had a sort of ensemble cast of five
family members, and the syndicate was afraid that readers would get lost trying
to follow each one, and would be confused as to who was who. I hadn’t really
wanted to focus on just one of them —and to make that character a ‘star’
character. But they wanted me to try this to see if it would work. Later, I did
narrow things down to two characters, but they felt that the strip lost
something in the process, so we went back to the original arrangement. I had
taken the drastic step of just going with the daughter, Paige, and the little
boy, Jason, and it was purely a sibling-relationship strip at that point.”
Following the misadventures of an
ensemble cast is not as difficult as it is to tell the difference between Paige
and her mother, with the masculine-sounding name “Andy.” This difficulty,
however, is less the fault of the size of the cast than it is a problem with
the drawing style Amend adopted for rendering his characters: the two females
are simply drawn, as are all the others, and the only distinguishing marks are
their hair-dos. But you can’t tell how the hair-dos are different unless you
see both characters at the same time. The other characters present no
recognition problems.
Amend’s success in selling the
family strip idea is remarkable if we consider that the last thing syndicate
editors were likely to be looking for in 1988 ago was another family
strip. I said: “I suppose they all
said, Another family strip. And yet
yours really isn’t another family strip: it’s different than other family
strips.”
“Yes!” Amend exclaimed in comic
exaggerated exasperation. “That’s what
I kept telling them back then! And they
kept rejecting me! No, I’d say, it’s
different. I have rejection letters
from syndicates saying, We already have two family strips. And in fact when Universal first signed me
up, one of their first questions was: how are we going to sell this? What’s the angle? I guess they figured it out; I’m not in sales. That’s their problem, right? I think there’s plenty of room on the comics
pages for several family strips. We all
live in families; we all grew up in families. As you say, my strip’s clearly different from For Better or For Worse, a lot different from Hi and Lois; really different from Arlo and Janis. I think the strong part of the strip from their
perspective was that it has a very contemporary setting—it contains a lot of
the trappings of our times—you’ll see a lot of Coke cans around, ‘Wheel of
Fortune’ will be on the tv, and there’ll be much evidence of present-day
paraphernalia everywhere. That probably separates it from other family strips.
Universal had some criticism pertaining to the early strips because they didn’t
show much movement of the camera or the viewpoint. They were very static so
we’ve been trying [he said, during the 1989 interview] to intersperse some
different camera angles as we go along. I was reluctant to do this early on because
I felt that it might detract from the writing. But I’ve been getting better at
camera angles and have discovered that there are ways you can help the humor
with these variations.”
Although he drew editorial cartoons
in college, he would have preferred doing a strip. But the campus paper came out only twice a week, too infrequently
for the kind of character-based humor that Amend has always favored.
Character-driven strips are
double-edged swords, Amend said. “When FoxTrot is just starting in a paper, I’m
sure that there are a lot of readers who, for two months, have no idea what’s
going on in my strip. And there are
probably a number of readers who think, Well, this is silly, and they move on. But for those readers who do stick around
for the initial exposition, there’s a chance for a loyalty there that may not
occur if I were doing just a gag-a-day. My own experience as a comic fan convinces me that you get to know these
characters—Calvin and Hobbes and Doonesbury. They become a part of your life and not just devices for setting up
punchlines.”
I agreed, and pointed out that many
of the most successful strips recently are character-driven. When I talked to Neal Sternecky several
years ago while he was doing Pogo, he
said that he didn’t like gags that could be picked up and moved to another
strip. They had to be gags that
belonged in this strip, not somebody else’s strip; they had to originate in the
characters’ personalities.
“Right,” Amend said. “I try very hard—not always successfully—but
I try to write punchlines that would only have come out of a specific
character’s mouth. There are times when some joke is clearly generic—that’s
what deadlines do to you,” he finished with a wry smile.
When Amend first began, Universal
asked to see roughs of his strip for approval. This precaution is no longer taken, but Amend still seeks reaction from
a reader—his editor, or his wife.
“After I’ve written a week’s
material,” he said, “I’ll call up my editor, and read them to him over the
phone. I’m blessed with an editor who
has enough time to put up with this, and he’s also very good at hearing the
spoken word and making a critical judgement on the fly. And he’ll say, This is all fine—or, That
third one seems to me a little weak—or, I didn’t get a joke. He’s a good sounding board. Sometimes I’ll read them to my wife, just to
make sure somebody agrees with me.”
Sometimes, Amend said, he runs into
editorial opposition. But that’s not
all bad. “Often from such editorial clashes,” he explained, “I’m able to find a
better way—a better solution— because I’m forced to create it. In a strip that ran a month or so ago, I had
Jason playing a board game with Paige, and he’s beaten Paige seven times in a
row or something like that, and he says, Face it, Paige, you just plain
suck. And my editor said, No no
no. My argument was that whatever Jason
said it had to be enough to trigger Paige: it had to be the straw that breaks the camel’s back, the final thing,
and it would provoke her enough that she’d tackle the board, which would set up
the punchline.
“But my editor said I couldn’t say suck,” Amend continued, “and so I came
up with, Paige, you suck waste water. Which is actually a little funnier and it gets the point across without
offending anyone. It’s a huge challenge
for me to write a strip chock full of teenagers that we know is being read by
teenagers and yet not be allowed to use the language of teenagers. I can understand that editors don’t want to
offend their readers, but at the same time, I have to be true to my
characters. So it’s a balance I try to
find.”
Amend teeters on yet another
tightrope walk: with his teenage characters, he discovered that he must strike
the balance between doing comedy and supplying role models. At the beginning, he expected that his chief
audience would be young, college-educated adults. But very early in the strip’s run, he started receiving letters
from children. He couldn’t understand why kids would be reading the strip until
he realized that they were drawn into the feature by the presence of Quincy,
the iguana.
“If you don’t want little kids to
read your comic,” Amend once said, “do not— I repeat, do not—include a cute
animal.”
At first, Amend was delighted to
have youngsters reading the strip. Then
he started getting letters every now and then that asked why the Fox kids
argued so much and used insulting language to each other. “Why,” one correspondent wanted to know,
“can’t your characters be role models?”
“That got me where it hurts,” Amend
said when he described this episode to the audience at Ohio State University’s
Festival of Cartoon Art in the summer of 1995. “I genuinely like children. I
was a camp counselor. I taught
kids. I’m a parent.”
Initially, Amend rationalized that
since he wasn’t doing the strip for young readers, it didn’t make sense to
worry about how those readers might be influenced by comic strip
characters. But then he remembered that
when he was a kid, he used to dive down the stairs in imitation of a character
in the comic book Fantastic Four. So he decided to be more careful. “Do I
really need to use the word dork here
or will doofus work just as well?” he
explained. Either word could refer to a
stupid person, but dork is also slang for penis.
But if Amend is more careful now, he
still realizes that the strip exists to be funny, not to set up exemplars. “Ideal behavior isn’t funny,” he said. “Humor isn’t about doing the homework you’re
supposed to; it’s about the lengths you’ll go to avoid doing the homework.”
So the Fox children still
squabble. And that, Amend believes, is
as it should be. People are imperfect
and complicated. And kids squabble. Amend knows you can’t eliminate all the
less-than-desirable behavior and retain the interest (not to mention loyalty)
of readers. And without dedicated
readers, the strip would lose whatever power it has to affect and influence.
We talked a little about whether the
early retirement of people like Bill
Watterson and Gary Larson and Berk Breathed has established a new
trend for cartoonists in the twenty-first century. At the time—April 1996—Amend
thought of himself as “in for the duration,” but he confessed, too, a certain
frustration occasionally.
“As a creative person,” he said,
“it’s been frustrating at times to realize that these characters that I came up
with when I was twenty-five years old are the characters that I’ll be using ad
infinitum, and I know that there are other voices in my head that may wish to
escape. The trick, I suppose, is to
find ways to incorporate them into the framework I’ve established either by
bringing in new characters or subtly reshaping the personalities of those on
hand.
“After all,” he continued, “I’ve
aged— I’ve gone from age twenty-five to age thirty-three. I’m a different person than when I started
the strip. When FoxTrot began, I was very much writing from the point of view of
the kids. At the age of twenty-five, I
still felt close enough to teenagers that it wasn’t too much of a stretch to
put myself in their shoes. And now I’m
a parent, and while I don’t quite relate to the parents in the strip at this
point— I’m somewhere in between— it’s an interesting time for me. The writer part of me is watching me change
and trying to figure out whether the strip should change its point of view or
whether I should just plant my feet and try to stay as immature as possible,”
he finished with a chuckle.
Amend was still vitally interested
in his characters, but he acknowledges “a certain boredom with the work”—the
tedium of meeting deadlines week after week.
“The treadmill,” I volunteered.
“Exactly,” he said. “Coming up with material each week, drawing
the material each week, and turning it
in—like the tragic hero Sisyphus, who pushes the stone up the hill and then it
rolls back down, and he starts all over again. There are times when that’s a joy and a delight to push the rock up the
hill. And then there are weeks when the
inspiration just isn’t there, and to be blunt, it’s not a lot of fun then. I wouldn’t blame the characters or the
premise of the strip for the frustration so much as—”
“The daily grind?” I said.
“Well, that’s part of the job,” he
said. “That’s the way the job is. Don’t get me wrong: I’m not complaining. But in my case—as with Watterson and Gary
Larson—when you do all the work yourself, you can’t just delegate. And so there are certain frustrations. There are only twenty-four hours in the day,
and I have family commitments and responsibilities. And I have to sleep some.”
Eventually, as we’ve seen, the
frustrations—and the need for sleep—grew greater than the satisfactions, and
Amend decided to give up the daily FoxTrot.
But he loved cartooning too much to give it up altogether; so he’s continuing
the strip in Sunday releases.
I asked, back in April 1996, if he
had any advice for aspiring young cartoonists.
“The question is often asked,” Amend
said, “What should I do to better my chances to be syndicated? Assuming that the person asking the question
is still in school, I would recommend that he take a broad range of subjects,
not focus entirely on art. So often, I
suspect, aspiring cartoonists forget that it’s not enough just to draw funny
pictures; you have to put words behind those pictures, 365 days a year, and
you’ll have thousands of people raising eyebrows and looking at your work every
day, so you better have something to say. To go along with that,” he continued, “I also recommend that aspiring
cartoonists keep their options open. I
was fortunate to have signed a contract at a fairly young age, but I have a
degree in physics, and it wouldn’t have been too terribly difficult for me to
be a computer programmer or to go graduate school and study engineering,
something like that. What frightens me
is the thought that there are people out there who put all their eggs into this
comic strip basket. They’re pursuing
their dream of being syndicated, and I wish them well, but the odds are
terrifically against them--and if it doesn’t work out for them, it will be very
sad to have their dreams shattered but also to realize that they have no other
options.”
After a few minutes, Amend
added: “Another thing I would encourage
aspiring cartoonists to do is to find their own voice, their own sense of
humor— instead of looking at Calvin and
Hobbes or The Far Side, and
saying, Well, I really like Calvin and
Hobbes, so I’m going to draw a strip about a six-year-old kid, changing it
here and there. Instead, start with a
blank sheet of paper, and create characters that come from you, not from other
people’s imagination. And not from your
supposition about what the syndicate wants either. Or what newspaper editors want. These are things to keep in mind, certainly: you don’t do a strip that
you know doesn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of succeeding. But I think the more personal your strip is,
the more honest it will be, and the stronger the writing will be.”
“And the longer you’ll live with
it,” I said.
“Yes!” he exclaimed. “I’m drawing a strip that feels very natural
to me. If I were drawing a strip that
was contrived eight years ago for the purpose of pleasing a syndicate editor,
I’m not sure how happy I’d be.”
“Did you think this was going to
last eight, ten, fifteen years?” I asked.
Amend smiled. “I was wonderfully naive about the realities
of the business. If I’d known enough
about what the odds were against me, I may have been frightened off before even
submitting anything. But I went into it
thinking, Well, of course I’ll be syndicated, and of course it’ll do well, and
of course the books will sell, and of course this will be my life’s work. I’ve been very fortunate in the way it’s
worked out. I really do have fun
writing and drawing this strip, and I hope, obviously, that people have fun
reading it.”
Even if they get to read it only
once a week.