T. K. Arispe

All right, let's try this again.

A while back, I drew a Pokémon webcomic where I played through two Pokémon games (Blue Version and Silver Version) and riffed on lines of dialogue that caught my eye. (Which is basically what I do when I play video games anyway.) The result was an unhinged, tongue-in-cheek journey through an odd world of insane professors, utterly incompetent criminal organizations, unnecessarily detailed environments, and the side effects of using too many Repels. I'd previously hosted it on a webcomic hosting site, but that site went belly-up some years ago, so I thought I'd bring the comic back online here so more people can enjoy it. I think it's hilarious.

I'll be putting the comics up on the blog sequentially, so first up, here's the title page! It's called "Trainer Wants to Battle" because so much of the dialogue in Pokémon games comes from the things Trainers say to you before and after you battle them.

 Also, the past few weeks have been a learning experience for me. I was experiencing severe social media burnout, feeling like all my attempts to post and network and build friendships on social media were somehow making me feel even less connected, more isolated, and like I just couldn't get people adequately interested in my work (or indeed me) no matter how hard I tried. 

(Read on for self-reflection that has absolutely nothing to do with Pokémon webcomics.)

Being an independent author has its perks (like being your own boss and having total control over the creative process), but one of the challenges is that you have to be the one to get the ball rolling and get people adequately enthusiastic about your work. And if you're struggling with an inferiority complex and social anxiety, that's really, really hard, and you don't sound at all convincing when you try.

While I am fully aware that I ultimately have no power over whether or not people decide to read my novels, I was definitely putting out a vibe like I had no confidence in my work, and people were likely picking up on that and being subconsciously repelled by it. 

And that's not fair to me. My work isn't perfect, but it's also not bad. No mortal's work is perfect. Perfection is not the point of art. The point is to do your best and make something that makes people's lives better. There will always be room for improvement, but that doesn't automatically make a creative work worthless. I've been learning a lot about classical music lately, and it's surprised me to find out that just about every iconic classical composition got some critical reviews in its day. I certainly can't find anything wrong with most of it. And I'm not trying to. I just want to enjoy it.

Part of why I was feeling this way about my art and writing was undoubtedly because in college I had some hypercritical writer "friends" who just loved picking my work apart. (I don't talk to those people anymore.) But it was also because I've met some indie authors who were over on the other extreme of the self-esteem spectrum, who thought their books were the most amazing thing on the market and everyone should and would love them. In all cases, those opinions were not really justified. I remember meeting one author who was absolutely convinced that her high fantasy series was the next Lord of the Rings, and that any day now she'd be contacted by Hollywood looking to buy the film rights. To be frank, I completely hated her series and I wish I could get back the time I wasted reading it and being traumatized by it. People like that really rub me the wrong way.

But I think in my attempts to not be like those people, I just went way too far in the other direction. I'm not sure anybody wants to read a novel whose own author doesn't even sound like she believes in it (or in herself). So I'm not surprised that most people haven't been more enthusiastic about my work--because I certainly haven't been sounding enthusiastic about it. I need to work on that.

Another thing I realized I needed to change was how I presented myself in general on social media. There are a lot of unsafe people online (and in real life, honestly), and for years I thought the best way to handle that was to simply say as little about myself as possible to other people. I'd even been avoiding divulging the fact that I'm female on social media, because I was paranoid about creeper guys who think that knowing someone is a woman gives them the green light to stalk her. In case you are at all considering this, I must forewarn you that I am trained in multiple martial arts and swordplay and any stalking attempts will end very badly for you. Also, please go see a therapist. You need help.

But over the past few months, I started to notice a strange sense of disconnect from myself when I would do that. If all I do on social media is post illustrations and writing with zero personal context or commentary, I start to come across as a generative AI algorithm instead of, y'know, an actual person with actual feelings and needs. It was like I was denying myself a sense of self, which makes me cringe every time I think about it, because that's kind of a basic human right. 

But just because some people choose to treat other people like they're the worst thing to ever happen, doesn't mean that's true. I'm allowed to exist--not just as a source of art, but as a person. A person who likes Mondays, Rachmaninoff, swords, and cottage cheese. A person whose cat pretty much runs her life. A person who could spend all day, every day asking researchers questions and whose ideal camping trip is setting up a sleeping bag in a museum (with a nice restaurant nearby, of course). And, most importantly, a person who is a positive and valued part of her family's life and has things to contribute to others' lives as well--whether they think so or not.

While I still really feel the general public is not entitled to be privy to the details of one's life (I had waffles for breakfast, if you must know, it wasn't terribly sensational), I've come to realize that if one is too reclusive with others, both parties are being robbed of the fulfillment of connecting with and getting to know (within reason) a human being with a lot to offer the world. Yes, there are definitely some troubled people on social media, but there are also ways of dealing with them, and it would be a mistake to let the fear of running into those people deprive one of being a beneficial presence in the lives of so many others. I think a certain amount of vulnerability and openness (mixed with a healthy dose of caution and common sense) is necessary in order for one to truly connect with others and find those satisfying social interactions.

So, from here on out I'm going to do social media (and socializing) in a way that's fair and beneficial for me. There's no point putting my work out there and chatting with people on social media if I'm doing so in a way that makes me miserable, lowers my self-esteem, and counterintuitively causes me to feel even more alienated from the people I'm trying to connect with.

And I'm also going to try harder to sound more convincing about my work. I know this won't guarantee more readers, but at the very least I think it will help me feel better about what I create, and I deserve that.