Celine Roque

For several years, I worked on a comic strip called “Gay Balls of Fire” (GBoF). I had a blast doing it, and it was project that allowed me to explore drawing comics for the first time.

But in 2005 I went back to college. Being both a full-time student and a part-time freelancer didn’t give me the freedom to work on GBoF as often, so the updates grew less and less frequent, until they stopped altogether in 2007.

Even when I stopped working on the comic, readers would still send me email. “When’s the next update?”, they’d ask. I’d always reply, “Soon.” Two years later, the next update is still waiting.

I promised to change all that this year. This year, I’ll work on GBoF, resdesign the web site, and upload a new strip each week.

The truth is, I did draw a new strip, but I couldn’t get the last panel right. I kept procrastinating, and five months later, I still haven’t drawn the last panel.

Obviously, it was time to face the facts.

If I really wanted to do it, it would already be done.

There, I said it. If I really wanted to continue making Gay Balls of Fire from the bottom of my fiery gay heart, I would’ve done it. It seemed like I was just working on it because I felt that I had to, because it was on my list – not because it was something I actually wanted to spend time on. It was a goal, in the pen-and-paper sense, but it wasn’t a real goal because all my attempts to accomplish it were half-hearted.

This means that our true goals are what we actually end up doing, not what we were planning on doing (but never got around to). All those things that we say we want to do but never really do are just bullshit.

Yes, I was bullshitting my readers when I told them I’d update the strip. I was doing the same thing to myself, as well. I may not have done it intentionally but, come on, if I really wanted to do it, I should’ve finished at least one strip in two goddam years.

Our goals should be things that we want to spend time on, no matter how difficult they are.

The creative process is a funny thing. There are some days when the flow state comes easily, but most of the time you have to work hard for a few hours before you get there. And that’s where the determining factor lies – your ability to do the work when the words, panels, and brush strokes don’t line up willingly in front of you. Are you willing to work through it even when it’s difficult?

Obviously, I wasn’t. Not for GBoF, at least. It still hurts to say this, but I think I’ve outgrown it.

But who knows? Maybe all I need is a newer approach to the work, a different direction, a new character – something that breathes new life and makes the strip feel important enough to do. I can’t promise anything to myself, though. I’ll only know how much I want to do it once it’s already done.