XI

Everything's a cycle, you know?

The first weeks that after they basically fired me from the hotel, I started to look for a new job. Again. I sent my resume to whatever job opportunity I could find. Again. I felt extremely stressed and anxious every time a company showed me they were interested in me, but I still manage somehow to get job interviews. Again.

But, when I had a job interview scheduled, I started to think for excuses that would make me believe having that job was a bad idea. Things like: "they'd pay you too little," "your workplace would be really far away, and I don't like this neighborhood. I don't want to leave my car here, unprotected, all day long," "your workplace would be one of the most depressing ones I've ever seen," "you don't really know or care about this place," "really? Sales? You, the most introverted person you know, think you'd be good at sales?"

And so on.

Also, I feel sometimes, during the job interviews, I was too honest, and sometimes too dishonest.

And sometimes I just simply forgot about the interview. Well, one time I remembered it… 5 minutes before. And when that happened I wasn't shocked or sad or had a mini heart attack, I was just like "well, it seems I'm not getting that job. Anyway…"

So, yeah…

But then, after I saw some starting publisher was looking for comics and manga artists, I decided to distract myself from my constant failures learning a new useless ability. Again. So I bought some how-to-draw-manga books, some mechanical pencils, a sketchbook and a couple specialized pens for the inking and started to watch some how-to-draw tutorials.

As the time passed by I began to understand how precise drawing is—a line half a millimeter to the left or right, or a slightly sharper curve could make the different of a really neat drawing or a piece of garbage—and how complex is the world we live in: reality could broke down in infinite shapes that are combined in infinite ways—and it's really important to understand them well to get the light and shadows right—how incredibly complex is the human body, and how incredibly well artist understand it; how artist must understand extremely well what they're drawing, and how you need to practice anything you're drawing—not only any object but parts of the human body, like hands (they're so free and active and important there's an infinite amount of ways to draw them, and an infinite amount of ways to get them wrong, but I like to draw them, though,) legs (they're a little complex because the shape of both the thighs and the calves are a little asymmetrical and change depending on the perspective, and the knees are slightly tilted and pointing outwards,) body proportions (it's just hell to get everything right,) hair (there are an infinite amount of hair types and styles, and you need to make hair strands a little bit varied to make them look natural but I always end up making them exactly the same or extremely similar, so they end up looking weird,) eyes (there are a lot of shapes and sizes, so I always end up drawing the same ones, and I'm really avoiding drawing pupils because they end up looking like serial killers,) eyelashes (believe it or not, I have some problems when it comes to make them look right and not like ugly thorns coming out of someone's eyes,) arms (because they're not just cylinders, they change slightly in size and shape especially in the elbow area,) feet (I have problems to draw them in some specific angles and viewpoints;) and different other things relating to a character, like expressions (there are so many of them, and a lot are so similar it's really easy to draw the wrong one, and at the moment you're about to draw them, you realize you only have a vague idea of how they are, so you start making those expressions while looking at the mirror, or the front screen of your phone,) body language (same thing as the previous one,) and clothing (there are so many different types and styles, and I have a really hard time drawing folds that look natural and express how tight or loose the clothing is.)

Also I began to understand inking is extremely precise and, for most of the time, a pain in the ass—even if you're the most careful you can be, the chances you'd draw a wrong line and screw everything up are really high, especially with hands.

It doesn't matter how much time you spend making your drawings as best as you can, they'll immediately look like shit.

Also, I don't know why but, once you inked your whole drawings, you then realize the arms are too long, or the hair was placed too high, or the eyes aren't that aligned, or the eyebrows are too thick, or the nose is a little too big, or the torso was too thin, or too thick, or the legs were too long, or etcetera.

And also also, since I wanna draw comics, I have to choose the size and shape of each panel (and this is more important than you think because it can help your storytelling and the rhythm of it,) the scene, the viewpoint, the character's poses, the backgrounds and etcetera.

What I'm trying to say here is that there's A LOT of variables when it comes to drawing, and I have to master ALL of them.

Anyway, for the next month or so I spent most of my day reading—mostly manga and comic theory books by Will Eisner and Scott McCloud—writing, learning how to draw manga style, watching anime and taking screenshots of characters I wanted to draw—maybe because of their expression, their hairstyle, the light and shadow on their faces, their hands, the folds in their clothing, their body pose, and so on.

Nothing else happened, but at least I haven't felt that happy since ages—I never really thought I could survive as a comic/manga artist, to be honest, but it was nice to forget about everything else and draw.

But I still needed a job, especially when that starting publisher struggled to sell all the comics they started printing.

So I started to look for a job. Again.

Then, one day, I was buying some groceries and, in my way to the checkout, I stumbled with their Funko Pops on sale. Now, I'm not a really big fan of those figures, but I had more than a couple of them at home, so I decided to check them out.

There I found some Yu Yu Hakusho figures—Botan, Kurama, and Hiei. Now, this last one caught my eye because of that "Special Edition" sticker.

Just out of curiosity, I took my phone and checked how much it was selling online—they're normally cheaper there.

But there wasn't anyone selling them in my country—except for some really sketchy post of buy-it-now-and-we'll-order-it-from-China-and-in-a-month-or-two-you'll-receive-the-totally-legit-not-fake-funko-you-ordered.

For me it seemed like a really good business opportunity.

So I bought it and sold it online in two days.

I tripled its price.

But I could totally sell it at a higher price.

And considering taxes and commissions, I didn't get that much, but I still got a good deal, though.

So I had a bad business idea.

How about I started checking everywhere for opportunities like this. Or how about I started buying Funko Pops that were common now, but will definitely increase they value in a year or so—like that Spike Spiegel Funko I decided not to buy a couple years ago, and now it's worth like ten times its original value or something.

Think about it: a business specialized not in selling the same Funko Pops everyone's selling, but the rare ones, the discontinued ones; the kinda place collectors would get the figures they can't find anymore.

It could be a good business opportunity—even though the fact it could be doesn't mean it will be.

Anyway, I was excited with the idea, so I started dedicating all my mornings to look for rare and cheap Funko Pops—and all my afternoons to read, write and learn how to draw.

The first day I visited some convenience stores. Some of them had a few ones, but they weren't that interesting—all of them were sold even cheaper everywhere online.

I also visited a geek store near there. They had A LOT of Funkos. Walls and walls of them, so I spent a lot of time looking for the ones I didn't see everywhere/knew they were basically worthless, taking pictures of the interesting ones, looking for them online, asking the clerk about their prices, and getting disappointed because they were expensive.

Except for one: a Guillermo del Toro Funko Pop!

I didn't know that existed, so I checked online, and they were some on sale, but at a really high price.

When I asked the clerk for the price on that one, he told me it was on clearance.

So I obviously bought it.

I sold it the same day—even though I was almost certain no one would want it.

Then I start buying more and more of those Funkos. At first I just bought the ones that were cheaper than other places and may increase their price in the future—like a SSJ Goku glow in the dark, a Darth Maul, a Jackie Chun Limited Edition.

I then realized I spent a considerable amount of money—but nothing to worry too much about; I just used a big part of my emergency savings, and not my life saving (which I'm not gonna touch for this.)

So I decided to start thinking a little bit more about my investments. I checked online for all the offers available for the franchises that seemed promising to me—you know, Harry Potter, Game of Thrones, Disney, Evangelion, Naruto, Star Wars, and so on. And when I say all, I mean all—we're talking the bottom of the barrel here.

I found a cheap Cowbow Bebop collection—everything except Spike and Ed with Ein—at a really cheap price—but when I bought it the seller backed down because he solved his financial problem that made him offer that part of his personal collection, and I was happy but sad about it.

I also found a cheap Evangelion collection—Summer Convention Asuka, regular Asuka, Shinji, Rei and a bloody Eva Unit 1. The limited Asuka had a little bump on the bottom, but considering the price it was worth it.

Except I already had a bloody Eva Unit 1.

At first I was like: "It's Evangelion, it's a safe investment. And those are exclusives. They're gonna increase their price in no time."

And then I was like: "Maybe, but I don't need two of them. Besides, the Eva I have right now has a free change or refund warranty from the site—the country's equivalent to eBay."

So I bought that guy's collection.

Then I waited its arrival—all the figures were in really good conditions, even the Convention Asuka, whose bump wasn't that big of a deal—checked both Evas and returned the one in the least great condition—which was the one I had in the first place.

The company that sold me the first one asked me why I wanted the refund, and I said I didn't need it anymore or something like that. Then they just texted me: "well, we'll losing money for the return shipment, but it's fine."

That same day, I received a couple Funkos I bought online from different sellers—a Rock Lee and an Itachi. The last one even came with a protector box—you know, the plastic and transparent ones that are supposed to keep your Funko in pristine conditions.

But underneath the protector box I could see the Funko's box was kinda broken.

Irony, I know.

When I tried to return it, I realize this one didn't have the free change & refund warranty, so I had talk to the seller and convince him to change my product for free.

And the seller was none other than the one of the passive-aggressive text.

So, I sent them the most apologetic message I could write.

They just told me to return the Funko and gave me a refund.

And that was that.

Then I came to the conclusion I still wasn't investing and managing my improvised store smartly enough, so I made an Excel file with all the items I considered interesting from all the stores and sites I visited: it had their price; the lowest price I could sell it in different sites—the eBay equivalent, Amazon (I'm currently working to be a seller there, but it's not that easy,) Facebook Marketplace, and maybe eBay (I still have to check out everything about that site, though, but it seems really worth it)—considering taxes, shipping and the site's commission; the suggested price to sell it in each site with a moderate profit margin; the profit margin I would be earning depending on the price I decided to sell it; the lowest prices from the competitors from each site; the profit margin I would be making if I sold it at those prices.

Also the file had my inventory and all the data about profit, competitor's prices, suggested price, etcetera.

It also has a simple calculator with all that data so I could check really quickly if an offer was worth my interest or not.

I know, I know, that's what Excel's for, and most people could do something way better in a blink of an eye.

But this is something I made with no job experience in that regard.

I haven't used Excel since college.

And I think I did pretty well, so I'm proud of myself.

Anyway, when I finish preparing this improvised business maybe I'd need to get a job to get some money to invest—and to recover my previous investment, and to save a little... if I can.

So maybe I'll have to start the job-looking cycle once again.