Don't give up the day job

Once upon a time up to seven million comics were sold each month in Spain. There were stories about slow-witted spies, flakey workmen and the antics of work-shy lodgers - in fact the most popular characters were generally anti-heroes. And the factory that satisfied this distant country's voracious demand was a company called Bruguera. This world was brought to life in Santiago Segura's most recent film, El Gran Vázquez, in which the comedian, best known for his detective character Torrente, plays a real-life comic artist eking out a living back in the 1960s at the height of Spain's comic boom.

But as the 1960s became the 1970s and comic readers grew up, the oil wars sent the price of newsprint skywards and videogames entered the scene. The popularity of comics declined; then, in 1986, after more than 75 years, Bruguera finally closed. As Carles Santamaría, the director of the Barcelona Comic Fair says, "It was like General Motors going under." The comic was dead. The 1990s were upon us.

In the past couple of years, though, there have been signs of what economists like to call green shoots. The comic book has grown up, and a new generation now reads graphic novels. The revival has been helped by the appearance of specialty shops, and wider availability in department stores. But is this enough to sustain an industry? In short, no.

That said, graphic novelists prepared to work in the US and French markets can make a living. Santamaría says that around 60 Spaniards already work in overseas markets. The Barcelona Comic Fair is doing what it can: last May it brought together 300 struggling Spanish artists and writers with foreign publishers.

As the Bible says, a prophet is never honored in his own land. But as a number of Spaniards have discovered, once you have cracked the French or US market you stand a better chance of at least being published. Juan Díaz Canales and Juanjo Guarnido left to work in France in the late 1990s, creating Blacksad, a detective series based on animal characters. The first edition of 30,000 sold out in a month. Since then, publishers Dargaud have sold 200,000 copies. In Spain, the series has so far sold 20,000 copies: chicken feed compared to France and Belgium, but making it a best-seller in a market where 2,000 copies is considered a hit.

Similarly, Juan Torres failed to attract any interest for his El velo (or, The veil) from the major Spanish publishers. He approached a US publisher, and the series became a success. He notes sarcastically that Spanish publishers will now buy the series and translate it back into Spanish. "It's cheaper than financing home-grown talent," he says.

Jaime Martín, a long-standing contributor to Spain's best-known adult comic magazine, El Víbora, says that when the publication finally closed after 26 years in 2005, he moved to the United States in search of work. "I don't like heroes, and much less superheroes, but if you will draw whatever you're asked, and you're quick, you can make a living there. But I wanted to do my own thing," he says.

Neither was he tempted by Japan's manga comics, which left only France. It was hard to break into the French market, and it wasn't until he found an agent that he got his first chance. His latest creation Todo el polvo del camino (or, All the dust from the road), set in the 1930s in the US, has sold 7,000 copies in France, and 1,000 here.

Paco Roca has enjoyed a modicum of success in Spain, but like Martín and the others, he decided he stood a better chance of making a living from his art in France. Arrugas, a tale of the effects of Alzheimer's, was well received there, selling around 13,000 copies. As with his colleagues, his success at home came when a publisher here bought the rights. Arrugas has since sold 30,000 copies in Spain.

Although most Spanish publishers still prefer to buy titles that have proven successful abroad, some smaller players are prepared to take a risk on home-grown talent. Astiberri, a small publisher set up in 2000 by three comic fans, decided last year to publish Paco Roca's latest work, El invierno del dibujante (or, The drawer's winter). It has sold 12,000 copies since January, and Astiberri's owners expect to make more money selling the rights in Germany and France. "I could earn more working in France, but being able to work close to home in my own language is appealing," says Roca, who hopes to repeat the experience.

Roca praises Astiberri for its approach, and is critical of Spanish comic and graphic novel publishers, who between them turn over around 90 million euros, for what he calls an overdeveloped aversion to risk. "It's cheaper for them to buy the rights than to invest in a project from the start."

Santamaría says that last year, barely 15 percent of new graphic novel and comic titles were produced domestically. Publishers Glénat say that of their 200 titles last year, manga titles made up 60 percent. It produced around 20 percent of the books it published. Of these, Félix Sabaté, the company's editor-in-chief, highlights Quince años en la calle (or, Fifteen years on the street), a graphic novel telling the true story of Miguel Fuster, homeless for many years.

"From a personal and professional perspective, I prefer to work directly with authors; it is more satisfying to work closely with an artist. What's more, when we produce something, all the money and rights are ours," he argues. Buying the rights to a book published abroad - the simplest and cheapest option - has its disadvantages, he says. "It is a double-edged sword: it gives you access to the rights to a work, but if you work with an artist, or different artists, you build up a catalogue, and without a catalogue, you have no long-term future," he says.

Sabaté is nothing if not an optimist. "People complain, but things are better than ever for us. Now that they don't sell DVDs and CDs, the big stores are looking to sell comics. Collectors go to the specialist shops, and the occasional comic or graphic novel reader goes to a department store," he explains.

Carles Santamaría believes that Spain may be getting the comic habit back. There are now around 240 specialty outlets around the country. "The Spanish market is now the second largest in Europe," he says, adding cautiously: "But we've still got a long way to go."