Draw Like You Mean It.

Comic-Con, portfolio in one hand, nerves in the other.

A Marvel editor flipped through my pages for maybe ten seconds, tossed them back, and called up the next guy. No feedback. Nothing.

I went home with something worse than a bad review. I had no idea how to get better. I was just drawing and hoping something would click.

Then I ran into one of my heroes on the way out of that same convention. He actually looked at my work. "You've got something here," he said, "but you're doing it all wrong." He became my mentor. For the first time, I could see real progress instead of guessing.

Then he died. No warning. I put my pencils in a box and took a desk job. Told myself maybe I wasn't cut out for this.

A few years later I quit that job, sold what I had, and moved across the world with nothing but art supplies and a promise to myself. Twelve hour days, every day. Then an email came in. A publisher wanted to hire me, for a tribute book, for my mentor.

That's the system I built into Comic Art Mastery. The one I wish someone had handed me at that convention.