10/8: Zuda Zero-Sum
The last of the verdicts on the Zuda contracts are rolling in.
Since before I fell ill last week, I've been trying to reach some kind of grand conclusion, some explanation of why I seem so out of step with the rest of the good old "webcomics community" on this issue. (Those who agree with me seem to be outside observers newer to the field, like Tom Spurgeon and Todd W. Allen.)
I don't mean to harp on this, but when a generally sensible observer like Gary Tyrrell asserts and affirms that "all contracts are... about protecting your interests by explicitly denying the interests of the other party," then I feel like I've slipped into some alternate universe.
I have a contract with Gisele Lagace which is most definitely not about that. It's an agreement between equals, or near-equals, spelling out what she and I can each expect from our partnership.* With some other artists, I've contented myself with a verbal agreement, but I could not do business with any artist if we didn't know what we expected from one another. That is the first function of a contract to me.
The second function is insurance. Dave Sim once said, "No corporation will ever pay a creator enough to sue them successfully," and I think a lot of creators would agree with that. It's true that Warner has more lawyers than an individual creator ever will. But these days, the negative publicity caused when a company breaks the letter, not just the spirit, of its contract is a powerful deterrent.
Furthermore, just because a company has more money for lawyers than you does not mean they want to spend it. Creators tend to view a lawsuit as a zero-sum game: either the plaintiff wins or the defendant does. But the legal system bleeds both parties of time and money. And we Americans are a lot more lawsuit-happy than we were in the 1930s. Warner didn't get rich by inviting a million lawsuits, and it doesn't expect to stay rich by doing so, either.
If you mistrust contracts completely, then that leaves you with two alternatives. The first is to try to do business with corporations on a handshake basis. This is, of course, ridiculous. Even I don't trust DC to take care of me purely out of the goodness of its heart. I wouldn't vest that trust into any company that had more resources than me.
The second alternative is never to do business with anyone who has more resources than you.
"Do It Yourself."
Ultimately, I'm just less of a pure DIY guy than most of the other people who talk a lot about webcomics. I'll always do some things myself, and I've been doing more than I would've done five years ago, but I decided long ago that I'd need partners to create the visuals I wanted, which makes me a little more comfortable seeking out partners in other areas, I think.
None of the above argues that Zuda contracts are right for you. But don't confuse the recognition of a bad deal with a distrust of all deals. Your career can do better.
Movin' on.
UPDATE: Or not quite. Clarifications here.
*In case you're wondering, Gisele gets 60% of the profit from any work we do together, and 50% of any profit from any work done by third parties... movie royalties, for instance. I earn my 40% share not just by scriptwriting but by taking care of a lot of the odds and ends of the business, including clear and verifiable financial reports. Gisele and I do trust each other, but I want her to be absolutely sure of me as we go forward.
Since before I fell ill last week, I've been trying to reach some kind of grand conclusion, some explanation of why I seem so out of step with the rest of the good old "webcomics community" on this issue. (Those who agree with me seem to be outside observers newer to the field, like Tom Spurgeon and Todd W. Allen.)
I don't mean to harp on this, but when a generally sensible observer like Gary Tyrrell asserts and affirms that "all contracts are... about protecting your interests by explicitly denying the interests of the other party," then I feel like I've slipped into some alternate universe.
I have a contract with Gisele Lagace which is most definitely not about that. It's an agreement between equals, or near-equals, spelling out what she and I can each expect from our partnership.* With some other artists, I've contented myself with a verbal agreement, but I could not do business with any artist if we didn't know what we expected from one another. That is the first function of a contract to me.
The second function is insurance. Dave Sim once said, "No corporation will ever pay a creator enough to sue them successfully," and I think a lot of creators would agree with that. It's true that Warner has more lawyers than an individual creator ever will. But these days, the negative publicity caused when a company breaks the letter, not just the spirit, of its contract is a powerful deterrent.
Furthermore, just because a company has more money for lawyers than you does not mean they want to spend it. Creators tend to view a lawsuit as a zero-sum game: either the plaintiff wins or the defendant does. But the legal system bleeds both parties of time and money. And we Americans are a lot more lawsuit-happy than we were in the 1930s. Warner didn't get rich by inviting a million lawsuits, and it doesn't expect to stay rich by doing so, either.
If you mistrust contracts completely, then that leaves you with two alternatives. The first is to try to do business with corporations on a handshake basis. This is, of course, ridiculous. Even I don't trust DC to take care of me purely out of the goodness of its heart. I wouldn't vest that trust into any company that had more resources than me.
The second alternative is never to do business with anyone who has more resources than you.
"Do It Yourself."
Ultimately, I'm just less of a pure DIY guy than most of the other people who talk a lot about webcomics. I'll always do some things myself, and I've been doing more than I would've done five years ago, but I decided long ago that I'd need partners to create the visuals I wanted, which makes me a little more comfortable seeking out partners in other areas, I think.
None of the above argues that Zuda contracts are right for you. But don't confuse the recognition of a bad deal with a distrust of all deals. Your career can do better.
Movin' on.
UPDATE: Or not quite. Clarifications here.
*In case you're wondering, Gisele gets 60% of the profit from any work we do together, and 50% of any profit from any work done by third parties... movie royalties, for instance. I earn my 40% share not just by scriptwriting but by taking care of a lot of the odds and ends of the business, including clear and verifiable financial reports. Gisele and I do trust each other, but I want her to be absolutely sure of me as we go forward.
Labels: Webcomics
Posted at
10:34 PM
1 Comments:
Seems to me you're as guilty of reductionism as Gary. You've outlined two positions: "never do business with anyone with more resources than yourself," and "Sell your work to a large multinational corporation who will own it outright, and forever (for all intents and purposes)." There's all kinds of middle ground between those positions, and to assert that cartoonists either must surrender everything completely, or else do everything all by themselves, with no help whatever, is to play into the hands of those whose bottom line depends on the industry staying the same as it always has been -- helpless creators giving their all for paternalistic publishers. The web makes this dynamic untenable. And I'm not being a starry-eyed optimist. The prose book industry is far bigger than comics, and far older than comics, and it doesn't present the same two extreme options to creators. Harry Potter is owned by his creator. Yet somehow everybody involved has managed to make bags and bags of money. So, you know, there.
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