An interview with Devin Grayson
A Shameless web exclusive
By Shane Dingman
Continued from page 4
A couple of years ago you said it took you a good four to six hours to hammer out a script from a more time consuming and laboriously constructed spring board... does that still hold true? And could you break down what goes into a springboard?
Sure. Springboard is actually not the right word, I apologize for that. I should have said outline. A springboard is, specifically, an art layout that helps a penciler decide how to place the panels on the page and what action needs to be represented in each of those panels (based on the script he or she has received from the writer). A finished springboard in comics is still pretty rough looking — it might even be stick figures or written notes. It’s how an artist works out the choreography of a page before getting into the really time-consuming rendering. Springboards are also used in movies and animation to help visually plot out action before committing it to film.
Similarly, an outline is what many writers will create before starting on a script. It will include the beginning, middle, and end (or cliff hanger) of the story, and maybe even a few key lines of dialog or important character bits, but it’s not polished the way the finalized script is. I don’t actually always work with outlines — more on that in a second — but I always should. At some point or another, you’re going to have to figure out how the story unfolds — that’s really the hardest, most time-consuming part of story telling.
In fact, let’s just take a look at the whole process.
The fun, exciting part is the idea, or inspiration. Though a good deal of thought may have gone in to it, subconsciously or otherwise, there’s usually a sort of energizing, thrilling moment when the story idea becomes clear to you and you realize you’ve got something worth pursuing. It feels like magic, and is what most people mean when they say they want to be writers. They’ve had that experience once or twice and really enjoyed it.
Now that you have an idea you like, you have to sit down with it and work it through a little to make sure it will really make sense as a comic. This is when you expand it from “what if five teens in the DCU (where being an orphan is almost a prerequisite for being a superhero) lose their parents unexpectedly and decided that, instead of grieving, they’ll hit the road and try to become superheroes?” to:
Their powers are their problems
This story is about learning how to be a family; learning that trust is earned and not bargained for, that intimacy isn’t possible without risk, and that having friends can be more powerful than having superpowers.
It’s also about learning to safely express various traits of humanity: ambition, anger, cultural identity, dependency on others in terms of learning to accept comfort and assistance, and independence from others in terms of self-esteem and one’s internal sense of personal worth. And, especially, grief.
Instead of having individuals whose powers are their saving graces, this team has abilities strangely representative of their personal failings. Their powers are their problems. Joel Weinberg’s decisive leadership is also a manifestation of unchecked ambition and the subconscious desire to attach others to him through need rather than loyalty. His sister Aviva’s “temper” is exactly that-a drastic and still inappropriate means of expressing rage. They’re joined by Tyson, a young African-American who has literally learned to turn invisible in sullen deference to society’s general disregard of his worth, Cameron, a powerful fourteen-year-old “mimic” whose ability to absorb the talents and powers of those around him has left him incapable of enduring solitude, and Damara, a beautiful, charismatic fifteen-year-old girl, forever unsure if she is liked for herself or for her powers of captivation.
To function together as a team and achieve the familial support they all have individual need of, each must first come to a better understanding of who they are as individuals. Joel has to learn that being able to care about other people is just as important as having them care about him. Aviva must learn that manipulating people doesn’t feel as good as having them want to help. Tyson needs to discover that the disregard of others doesn’t hurt as much if he has friends who see him clearly. Cameron struggles with understanding that instead of conning people into being near him with flashy, professed autonomy, it can be preferable to tell them that they are valued and ask them to stay close. Damara needs to come to believe that true friends can see beneath the surface and value her for who she is. And then together in the adolescently-claustrophobic Winnebago the young Weinbergs have inherited, they must all acknowledge their need of one another, and make a conscious pact to be the family that none of them would otherwise have.
It’s “MTV’s Road Rules,” meets “The Teen Titans,” — The Hero with a Thousand Faces meets “Party of five.” And this time we’re hoping the world can save the superheroes, instead of the other way around.”


