“ This daily journaling is not about work; it’ s just for me. It’ s about the sensual joy of drawing, and the surprise of what emerges from it.”
I try not to become too macabre. I’ ve learned over the years through cartooning not to do that, because people will write in, and I will make them sad. That’ s not what I want to do.
Sherman: You mentioned your daughter, your son, and your wife— but are there other people you trust to help gauge your cartoons? Also, are there cartoons you’ ve created that you find genuinely wonderful but, for lack of better terms, are unprintable?
Bliss: Well, I will say this— quite a few of them are in my book! Many of these journal pages are pretty hilarious. I mean, I think they’ re really funny. I’ ve read this book five times, because this is the first book I’ ve written with a lot of prose. So, I had to go back and carefully read every one of these entries. And two things happened: for the most part, I cried. I would re-read things and cry, and I would re-read things and really laugh. The laughter didn’ t diminish. On the fifth reading, I still laughed. There’ s also a lot of stuff in my journals I don’ t think anyone should see. It’ s just personal stuff.
I really wanted the book to be honest. I like irreverence in other comedians, and I do have a trusted group of family and friends, probably five people— my daughter; my stepdaughter, Delia; my son, Alex; and a dear friend in Sausalito, John Butler. Sometimes my wife, sometimes my sister-in-law Katie, but really, Alex, Delia, and John Butler. If Delia responds with“ LOL,” that’ s huge. When Steve [ Martin ] and I work on a cartoon together, we’ ll both think it’ s funny, but we’ ll test it with Delia because she’ s younger— she’ s 24. In the process of writing this book, I went out of my way to share with Delia, my son( who’ s 31), and his partner Sarah Wilson, an Ivy League literature major. They live in Brooklyn and are great, smart, funny young people who helped me curate the book. My son and Sarah came up here and spent three days going through the pages and cartoons, helping me select cartoons for each essay to ensure they related to the prose. That was hard— I couldn’ t have done it without them.
“ This daily journaling is not about work; it’ s just for me. It’ s about the sensual joy of drawing, and the surprise of what emerges from it.”
Sherman: Cartoonists often wonder,“ Why didn’ t this picture get chosen?” As a publisher, I am very aware of the process, and sometimes images aren’ t selected simply because another graphic is better suited to the issue. Can you recall a specific cartoon or cover you really believed in that didn’ t get chosen?
Bliss: With every single cover I’ ve done for The New Yorker that didn’ t get accepted, I feel it was THEIR mistake. I know it sounds arrogant, but that’ s how I feel. A lot of those covers got turned into cartoons, and about a third of them found other publications. It used to be frustrating, but I just don’ t care anymore. Maybe I’ m just old— but, frankly, I’ d rather walk my dog. I just like drawing cartoons. If one feels like a cover, I submit it. Recently, I submitted a dog cartoon that would have made a great cover. But I don’ t really have resentment anymore. There came a point when I decided not to get mad. There might be political reasons or timing issues, but in the back of my mind, I still wonder.
Sherman: Let’ s talk about process. I interviewed John Williams when he turned 90, and he was still working six and a half days a week, regardless of his mood. On days when you’ re feeling uninspired, do you take the day off, or do you have a process?
Bliss: There certainly are days when I’ m uninspired. It depends on how many cartoons I already have. Right now, I have six cartoons due Monday, and they’ re mostly done. But I force myself to meet deadlines.
The process is journaling. I wake up, take the dog out, make coffee, sit down, and journal. I’ ll randomly draw something, usually something simple like a tree or me walking with my dog, because I love watching the ink flow onto paper. These drawings eventually become cartoons. Sometimes I’ ll draw something, and it just turns into a cartoon without consciously planning it. This daily journaling is not about work; it’ s just for me. It’ s about the sensual joy of drawing, and the surprise of what emerges from it. But that eventually becomes a drawing of the woods, or me walking in the woods, usually with my dog. I just did one the other day— a guy and two dogs holding martinis, and the caption is,“ They seem to really be getting along.” Today, I drew a dog
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