In late 1992, a viewing of the Fox animated series X-Men prompted me to stop in my hometown’s newly-opened comic book store and walk out a newly-minted addict. I imagine most kids who get into comics spend at least a little bit of time fantasizing about writing or drawing them, playing in the big superhero sandbox, and I was no different. I aped the styles of my favorite artists, made up legions of knock-off heroes and hoped to one day be as cool as those guys at Image. Somewhere along the way I was handed a copy of Sandman #50, and my idea of graphic storytelling shifted, much in the way Stranger in a Strange Land nudged my concept of science fiction. Then my small town comic shops closed and, already broke from over-inflated pull lists, my attention drifted away from sequential art. (That probably had a lot to do with girls, too…)

Later, during the college years, chance encounters with Kingdom Come, Powers and Rising Stars brought me back into the fold. Comics had come a long way – in writing, in art, in production, in lack of those god-awful gimmick covers – and it felt good, right, to be back amongst the panels.

Post university, when my desire to write pushed past my fading rockstar aspirations, I started to again consider comics as a possible outlet for my stories. My artist-friend (and former-bandmate) Gene Kelly and I commiserated over dinner in Chicago and (with no small practical input from our lovely partners) got our first comic collaboration in motion. My first script all but collapsed under the weight of 12-16 panel pages, but after a crash course in realistic page layout, I got the hang of it and Gene rocked out some pretty cool work from my simple story. Then we both got all busy with stuff like weddings and real jobs and, like these things tend to do, we got sidetracked.

Another time shift and, during one of the most difficult periods of my life, I saw a solicitation in a local comic shop for a new club catering to people interested in making comics. Desperate for something to revitalize me in a rough patch, I drug my friend Travis Nuckolls along, expecting little. Amazingly, the group that collected at Twilight Comics in Shiloh, IL, wasn’t so much interested in just caterwauling about comics (though we did plenty of that, too) as getting dirty and making some honest-for-really-real sequential art. This handful of strangers distilled into 7 guys serious about getting some in print, and so began the Comic Creator Cabal.

Six months of long hours, little sleep and lonely spouses later, the C3 produced Emergent Phenomena, a 62-page black-and-white anthology self-published via Ka-Blam. And even though I now see it as a collection of rookie mistakes and learning exercises, I’ll never forget tearing open that cardboard shipping envelope to reveal the printer’s proof, my first works tangible under a glossy color cover. The smell of ink and binding adhesive, my fellow C3ers dropping by my house to bath in its glory.

We took that bad boy to to the Wizard World Chicago Comic Convention in the summer of 2008, manned a table in Artist Alley and sold about 70 copies of EP. (we’re told that’s pretty good for the first time out) We were high on fanboy-life, a weekend telling people about our creative pursuit and them giving us money for it. Let me tell you, going back to the 9-to-5 office grind afterward blew. It was the taste of dork-nirvana, and we’re eager for more.

So now, in the latter half of 2009, the C3 is more a social support group than a publishing venture, but we’re all plugging away at our creations. Artist Dan Cassity, Travis and I have been quietly laying the groundwork for and reinventing a concept from Emergent Phenomena. More on that soon.

I’m also working again with Gene Kelly, when he’s got time alongside his new daughter and his work with Cranky Octopus, on a genre-mashing adventure serial. Details pending on that one for now, as well.

There’s a lot I can’t share just yet, but intend to open the flood gates on soon. Hope you stay along for the ride.