“Mosaic confusion” is a wonderful phrase coined by Megaton Man creator Don Simpson to describe the cognitive dissonance that sometimes occurs in readers unfamiliar with comic books. Some may analyze a mosaic of comic panels as a collection of individual images rather than a deliberate, narrative sequence, attempting to leverage the “scan and select” skills they culled from websites, magazines and newspapers (even the comics section).

When I first saw Comixology‘s Guided View™ reading mode for mobile devices, I assumed it was solely a clever means of squishing traditional comics down to a smaller form factor without sacrificing readability. It wasn’t until I received a Kindle Fire that I realized it also counteracts mosaic confusion by negotiating the panel sequence for the viewer. Equivalent features exist in most iOS comics apps (Dark Horse Digital being a personal favorite of mine).

Amazon debuted their own guided reading mode shortly after the launch of the Fire through an exclusive partnership with DC Comics (which got Barnes & Noble pretty riled up), and it’s quite a bit different. I made a short comparison video to demonstrate:

While Comixology’s Guided View kills two birds with one stone, Kindle Panel View doesn’t alleviate mosaic confusion… in fact, it may exacerbate the problem. The Lightbox-style overlay introduces visual complexity, requiring the reader to parse three layers of depth: the focused panel, a gray overlay and the full page. Because the entire page is always visible and transitions are sparse, the mosaic demands a fresh analysis for each and every panel. I’ve never had to think so hard about the act of reading a comic book before.

The Fire is actually a pretty great device for reading comics on the go. My hope is that Amazon improves Kindle Panel View quickly, or that the DC exclusivity deal ends quickly enough to allow books like Watchmen and Dark Knight Returns to be effortlessly enjoyed via competing apps.

I’m so wicked proud to announce that Fragments (the comic anthology I’ve been organizing to benefit the amazing charity, Save the Children) is finally available for purchase! If you like comics, or if you just like doing something awesome for a good cause, you should purchase a copy.

The book features awesome comics by Tram Ngo, Kristen Bailey, Pav Kovacic, Theodore Taylor and many more. The cover was illustrated by Tony Papesh, with a logo by Marc Roman. It’s thanks to all the contributors that this book exists.

The Fragments web site is the first time I’ve published a site written in HTML5 with liberal use of CSS3. Safari 5 users should notice a cool three-dimensional transform on the cover, accomplished via some CSS Transforms and a bit of JavaScript.

If you don’t have Safari, you can see the effect in this screencast:

A special thanks to everyone who has supported the project by tuning into its progress via Facebook or Twitter. Please continue spreading the word; with your help, this project will be a resounding success.

Fragments is a unique comic book anthology that donates its proceeds to those in need, but not without your help.

We’re now accepting submissions for comics and artwork to be featured in the first volume, benefiting the victims of the catastrophic earthquake in Haiti. If you’re an artist, please consider contributing. If you know an artist, please direct their attention to this project.

With our combined creativity, we can make this an amazing book that actually saves lives.

For more information, please visit the project’s web site or follow @FragmentsComic on Twitter.

My favorite superhero is, without question, Batman. His is the simplest premise with the richest psychological results.

But just as certainly, my favorite to draw is Spider-Man.

When I was a very young comics fan, I was drawn to John Romita’s flawless brushwork. But as I grew older, I became increasingly enamored with Steve Ditko’s Spidey. It felt quirky, jittery, jerky. The opposite of graceful. In a world of sweeping capes, bold shapes and dynamic lines, Ditko’s Spider-Man (and to some extent, Peter Parker) was hopelessly broken and askew.

I would guess at least half of American cartoonists go through a phase of romanticizing superhero comics, and I was no different. I never thought I was very good at drawing superheroes, mind you, but they were really fun.

I recently stumbled upon some Spider-Man drawings I did as a freshman in college. It looks like I was reading a lot of comics by Sam Kieth and Humberto Ramos. I was obviously avoiding the “hassle” of rendering settings or backgrounds (something many young artists struggle with). But these drawings make me smile in spite of their flaws because I had so much fun making them.

And my Spider-Man is definitely quirky, jittery, jerky.

Creativity runs in my family, though not always as obviously expressed as through a career in art and design. I can recall countless projects undertaken by my parents, my mom’s strength being idea generation and my dad’s being execution. I dig the way my parents design their house, yards and living spaces; always warm, creative, modern and comfortable.

Oftentimes these projects would be built from scratch or from something salvageable from an antique store or garage sale. It wasn’t that they couldn’t afford to buy brand spanking new materials. They loved giving these discarded objects a new lease on life beyond what you could purchase new off a store shelf. When I take on projects like repairing and improving a broken iPod, I believe I have them to blame thank.

Growing up, I was a daydreamer. To this day I have a terrible sense of direction, partially because I was never really aware of the world outside the car window. I was too busy conjuring images of ninjas, aliens, robots, superheros and dinosaurs to pay attention to things like intersections and traffic. Similarly I was never fully cognizant of what my parents were looking for in any particular antique store, so much as I was engrossed in the task of finding comic books.

One flea market in particular held many such treasures. It was where I found my second issue of Groo and the Space Ghost one-shot by Mark Evanier and Steve Rude. Most importantly, it was where I discovered my first issue of Usagi Yojimbo.

This was fantastic! My young eyes were dazzled by the economy and expressiveness of the drawings while my mind was engaged and enamored with the authentic Japanese history infused with a hardy sense of adventure and fun. Here was a comic accessible to me, but which didn’t talk down to me. I was in love!

Many years later at San Diego Comic Con, I had the opportunity to meet the man behind Usagi, Stan Sakai, and express my admiration. To my delight, I found him both friendly and humble. His stories alone earn him such a large audience, yet his level of graciousness emphasizes how deserving he really is.

This year, Usagi celebrates its twenty-fifth anniversary. Members of the Usagi Yojimbo Dojo (a wonderful community-led forum in which Stan is an active participant) decided to put together a gift for Stan comprised of artwork, letters and congratulations from many of his appreciative fans.

While I was unable to attend this year’s Comic Con where fans presented the gift to Stan, I’m thankful to have contributed to the impressive, three-volume tome. I’m also thankful to Michael Takahara for publishing a video of the event (and for subsequently posting it to Vimeo for me to use here).

Read the rest of this entry…