Last Saturday we went to the launch of such-and-such literary journal at the Melbourne Writers Festival. My short story got published in the above such-and-such and thrilled to the bones the Comic-ish duo marched to the private function room in Fed Square.

Well, the facts are a tad twisted as we weren’t exactly thrilled – I was more deeply depressed, sensing a breakdown in an ‘it’s-my-party-and-I-cry-if-I-want-to’ style, and we weren’t marching we were more lagging slowly on the tram. Eventually we got to the launch only to be left on the wrong side of the party, outside the closed doors of the event, which did not for one bit change my plans and immediately I started crying.
Worry not, as we did enter the ‘hall of fame’ in the end. Tears and raging hormones of a passionate writer (and a preggy one, one may add) did the trick. Once in, I realised there was indeed much to cry about: the hard work, the romantic literary dreams and the artist (me, me) waiting for comforting acknowledgment all faded to the reality of a dull afternoon and a plate of really over garlicy olives in my hand.

Now why am I telling you all this? (Pure self-centred, my friends). Firstly, I have no frigging idea, somebody please stop me. And secondly it is about time to write about the journey of the artists behind this web comic, about the hall of fame and the over garlicy olives. So be prepared for the ‘on occasion’ blog posts.

We started Comic-ish out of passion for the illustrated word. No, seriously now, are you for real? (Imagining someone answering back – no need to worry, not talking to myself, well, kinda). Really, my friends. Creative people need to be creative and have fun with it and so we ended up opening Comic-ish and updating every week for the past (almost, almost) six months.
There’s a sea of web comics out there (not to mention other blogs and distractions and porn! God forbid). The competition is rough and chances to succeed and even make a profit are slim. In fact there are about a dozen (or 2 max) that actually turned web comics into their full time job. But it’s not for us to give up (ha-ha! Putting my brrrrave face on (to be read in a Scottish accent)). We love doing what we do. We love our angry Franz and Ganz, we love Dr. Rex and the new bits we try. And mostly we love it when people are reading and enjoying. (And we hate the motherfuckers who think we are not funny! Shame! Shame! Just kidding. Ah hmm.)
In a way we are still on ‘pilot’ mode - growing, learning and trying to get more and more readers. We really want to get into that party, the hall of fame so to speak. We know there’s a chance we get served with a plate of smelly olives but seeing more readers come by and getting comments (not nearly enough, people start conversing!) is really a major motivator to continue creating. Think about it, the solitary writer/illustrator working hard isolated in his capsule and all he needs is some recognition. And a few bucks, do you have change?

So keep coming and let us hear you say – yeaahh! Or beeehhhrr, which is in southeast Celtic - beer! And now, (I know, there are too many words on your screen, and it is a web comic after all - so), here’s a doodle of a sexy, dancing hot dog.
Hope you're satisfied now. You made a preggy woman cry in a hot dog custom. Wanna redeem, my friends? Join our facebook page, it makes me feel less like a hot dog, or send a comment with some cookies - favourite nutrition these days.


  1. Oh darling, please don't cry!
    I'm so excited for you and your published story! Again: please send it to me! Would love to read it. I'm absolutely positive that soon you will be famous and people will beg you to come to their red carpet-events. But you will be too busy doing other, cooler stuff and eating the best olives in the world with the perfect amount of garlic in them. Hurray!

  2. Blushing. You're just far too kind. The best olives in the world here I come!!