I liken the comic book making business to the life of a donut.
Allow me to explain.
Unless you're a baker, I doubt you're going to make a good donut your first time out. I mean it sounds simple enough. A donut. But it's not. When was the last time your mother made you a donut? "I know, I'll bake some donuts and bring them to the party...!" Not a lot of people can make donuts, or good ones at least. So I assume it takes some practice. Some care. Just like making a decent comic book.
So you practice and train yourself and you get to a point in your donut making expertise that you decide to make one for public consumption. You gather the ingredients. You prep your kitchen. You set the oven temperature. You get your donut ducks in order. Once it's all nice and heated you want people to enjoy it -so you proudly display that tasty tire on a pretty shelf. Probably next to a bunch of other carefully crafted donuts. Finally someone buys that little fella and chews it up. Maybe they were just hungry and gobbled it down. But maybe they snapped a picture of it with their cellphone and posted your glorious creation for all the world to see. Maybe even wrote a Tweet about how delightful it was. But then they ate it.
Now the shelf is empty again.
No one remembers that donut. Few people are discussing that donut.
Creating a donut that leaves people still talking after consuming it is no easy task I imagine.
I guess that's why there are so few comic books that stand the test of time. I still talk about Frank Miller's Dark Knight and his Daredevil run, Walter Simonson's Thor run. Claremont and Byrne's X-Men. Barry Winsor Smith's Weapon X. Buscema's Conan, Neal Adam's Batman, Moore and Gibbon's Watchmen. Arthur Adams' X-Men annuals and Michael Golden's insane cover run.
Those are some tasty donuts.