“Pond Duty”
Dylan Webb is an illustrator, critter lover, graphic novelist, designer, and long-legged sunnavagun from the Ozarks. His graphic narratives have appeared in The Florida Review, Hobart Pulp, The Rumpus, and Barrelhouse Magazine. And he believes it takes a big dog to weigh a hundred pounds. You can follow Dylan on Instagram @dylanwebb17 and their website dylanwebb.net
Former Associate Editor Scott Adinconis talks with Dylan about their work.
Scott Adiconis: Could you elaborate on the significance of onomatopoeia in your work? How does it contribute to the overall narrative and atmosphere?
Dylan Webb: The onomatopoeia seemed a natural fit for work I hoped could activate multiple senses, but it had also been inspired by "Rock Lobster" by The B-52s. I thought about a more Ozarkian version of the tail-end of that song once I recalled the constant buzz of summer in Missouri. "The narrator's voice is playful and what's more playful than onomatopoeia?" I thought.
SA: Your work combines text and visuals like a comic but diverges from a common presentation. Are there specific comic artists or creators who have influenced your artistic vision, and if so, how?
DW: I wanted to emphasize the talkative nature of the narrator in this comic. So instead of spreading narration amongst the illustrations like many comics, the text is collected in a single area on a page so it feels relentless. I've also probably been influenced by zine culture and outsider artists like Henry Darger and Charles Dellschau who often similarly placed text. If "Pond Duty" was a found object, the author might put his thoughts on the page systematically, I think.
SA: What challenges, if any, have you encountered while creating hybrid poetry, and how have you overcome them?
DW: Well, truthfully I've not entered a project with the mindset of poetry, and I don't have any background in poetry. In the case of "Pond Duty," I utilized refrain more like a children's story and pursued a monologue with rambling tendencies. I figured whoever put this on paper would bounce in-between verse and rhythm and normal prose. That's pretty much hybrid poetry—huh.
SA: Can you provide insights into your creative process when developing these hybrid pieces? How do you begin, and how do you refine your ideas into a cohesive narrative?
DW: My creative process seems to be a little different every time. Sometimes I have a full story in mind. Sometimes I have a couple of images in mind. Sometimes I have a refrain in mind that influences everything else. More often than not, a family story or memory is the foundation of the work, and then it gets built by half-truths, complete fiction, and mish-mashes of real memories—it's almost a fake memoir approach. One thought sparks another, which sparks another, and then I'm combining bits and pieces into the most compelling version of a narrative that those closest to me are confused by because they recognize _________ but not _________. It's never intended to be non-fiction or memoir. And an illustration might prompt the writing or it might be the other way around. In the case of this comic, the words did the heavy lifting while the cat illustrations play the supporting role.