This is Michael, creator, writer, and artist of The Mannamong. A supernatural fantasy graphic novel series. In this post, I would like to share an overview of my comic-making process to illustrate how much I’ve learned about visual storytelling through this medium.

When deciding what to prioritize and which ideas to explore, I often alternate between writing and drawing scenes that unfold in my mind. During the creation of Volumes 1 and 2, I didn't have a structured outline and was largely improvising as I went. Today, I am more organized; I revisit the rough scenes I drew and connect them into a more cohesive narrative before planning out the story.

To get the visuals out of my head, I draw storyboards. I picture a scene that I need to sketch quickly before the idea is forgotten. The goal is to combine this with my script later on. The expressions, body language, and framing of the scene are the most important details I want to capture immediately. If dialogue comes to mind, I include it in the storyboard or add it to the script later.

After that, I compile the scenes from my thumbnail storyboards and sketch out another rough draft in comic format. This allows me to see how the panels will be arranged and to estimate how many pages the chapter will require. I aim to divide the total page count by four, ensuring that certain scenes are placed correctly for an effective page-turn reveal when it goes to print. Because of this, I sometimes add new storyboard scenes or combine old scenes to achieve the right flow.

It’s finally time for me to start drawing the pages. I begin by sketching rough details to position the characters, and then I add speech bubbles in the available space. This helps me evaluate whether the dialogue flows well and fits properly within the panels. At this stage, I usually make final edits to my script. Once I’m satisfied with the overall layout, I refine the sketches with cleaner details and add the background scenes last. My primary focus is on the characters and their expressions, as well as their postures, to ensure they accurately convey the mood I originally envisioned during the storyboard stage.

The inking stage takes the most time. I’ve spent years refining my style to find the right balance of thick and thin lines, and by Volume 3, I finally feel like I’ve mastered it.

This is also where I carefully check every character for consistency. I keep reference sheets nearby to make sure hairstyles, clothing, expressions, and accessories stay true from page to page.

Inking usually takes about twice as long as penciling. As I go over my rough sketches, I often notice anatomy, perspective, or design details that need to be corrected before the artwork is finalized. It’s the stage where everything comes together, and where many of the final improvements are made before the pages are complete.

Finally, we reach the coloring stage of the story. Recently, I’ve been using solid colors during inking to spot potential errors and avoid getting confused by overlapping lines. Once I finish inking, I hand the pages over to my mother, Kathy, for coloring. Together, we’ve prepared palettes for the characters, making it easier for her to paint. I also provide her with specific directions on the colors and lighting of the scenery to match the mood I envision.

Overall, this has been the general process for creating The Mannamong in the past few years. I’m still learning a lot as I go, but I’ve developed a more consistent workflow for brainstorming and thoroughly illustrating my ideas. It has been a challenging yet rewarding journey to apply what I’ve learned so far to a project I’ve wanted to pursue since childhood, one that I can create with my own two hands.

A life story I’m trying to understand, with my protagonists, Kali and Tonto, as they seek hope for a brighter tomorrow.

One sentence changes everything.

“We are the mannamong.”

With four simple words, Kali’s world opens up.

The bedtime stories her mother lovingly told her weren’t make-believe after all.

They’re real.

Not just one spirit...

An entire hidden world of them.

Moments like this remind me why I love fantasy.

The best stories don’t just introduce new characters.

They reveal that the world has always been larger, deeper, and more magical than we ever realized.

— Kathy

New to The Mannamong?
Or ready to step into its world again?

Read Chapter 1 Free

One of my favorite moments in Chapter 1 isn’t a battle or a dramatic reveal.

It’s an introduction.

Kali meets Gisenes — the Daughter of Mother Nature.

As a reader, we know she’s extraordinary.

But what I love most is watching Kali realize that the impossible might actually be possible.

I think that’s something we lose a little as adults.

Children are often willing to believe that the world is bigger than what they can see.

Somewhere along the way, we become convinced we’ve already seen everything there is to see.

Life has a way of proving us wrong.

Sometimes it’s through a new friendship.

Sometimes through unexpected kindness.

Sometimes through a conversation that changes our perspective.

Those moments remind us that wonder isn’t something we leave behind as children.

It’s something we rediscover.

Maybe that’s one reason I love this scene so much.

Because hope often begins with wonder.

New to The Mannamong?
Or just want to read again?

Read Chapter 1 Free

Hey all. This post will be a new series of articles discussing previous pages throughout The Mannamong comic regarding my planning and thought process in creating them. Sort of like a director’s commentary. I thought it would be fun to explain how and why I came up with the scenes in the final draft. But also to relay my intentions and hopefully see if my approach resonates with my readers. Starting with, of course, chapter one!

If you don’t mind excessive commentary frame by frame of every page, spelling out all the intended nuances, and want to understand the artist’s perspective, then this is the behind-the-scenes for you!

Page 1— To set the mood of the story’s theme, I wanted to focus on something that would reflect its message: the manna and desire. The manna is the focus of the page, and how desire can influence life for better or worse. Highlighting how once you’ve had a taste of what you’ve wanted, the pleasure and satisfaction become addictive. Yet having desire breathes life as motivation, so it’s neither completely good nor bad. It just requires balance. The page ends by stating that guidance is needed to steer souls away from danger through blindsided, unmanaged desire.

The guardians are clear indicators of the mannamong as we progress through the story. But this page carries an important message in explaining how our wants can be healthy with proper wisdom and support. It can be said that people describe “Mother Nature” as benevolent or cruel, depending on the context of how the world shaped them. I feel this is because while the world has amazing things to behold, it also has many dangerous elements due to its unforgiving nature. And our desires can quickly transform into something unhealthy if we’re not careful. But in the end, having desires makes life meaningful and enjoyable. It all depends on where our focus is and who inspires us. An important distinction to keep in mind when we read how these so-called “guardians” behave themselves…

Page 2— Right off the bat, I wanted to grab the reader’s attention with a bang! Beginnings are surprisingly the most difficult to write in fiction because they should make a statement about the story’s direction. First impressions matter a lot.

Starting the comic with a thunderstorm at night is meant to set the tone of unpredictability and dread for what’s up ahead. The lightning bolt striking against the mountainside and forcing the Jeep to a halt tells the reader that nature itself is trying to stop our two starting leads from progressing.

So, the storm is supposed to be a sudden, loud moment to contrast with the first page’s narration. Very brief and to the point, while it packs a punch. But it also raises a crucial question right away. Who are these two characters, and why are they in the middle of this terrifying weather at night? The shock in their expressions should convey that they’re at the peak of urgency for whatever reason and are forced to pause for the reader to digest what is happening all on one page.

Page 3— The pile of rocks resulting from the lightning strike is a literal blockage for our two characters moving onwards. But it also shows how close they were to being harmed, emphasizing the dangers of their surroundings. Stuck, the adult Vianne vents her frustration as the girl, Kali, struggles to catch her breath—a single frame to show how exasperated they are. Nothing to disclose yet, but the page conveys that they’re in a rush and getting through this storm is a must, especially with Kali expressing her impatience and weakly trying to leave the Jeep against her mother’s orders. Her flushed face and slumped demeanor are the keys to putting the pieces together. Whatever the reason for enduring this storm is because of her.

Page 4— With Kali falling straight into the muddy water and her mother chasing after her, it’s clear she’s not in the best physical condition. The following frames show she cannot even get up without her mother’s support. Tire tracks lead to a cave as the storm rages on to show they’ve retreated to shelter, realizing there’s nothing more they can do to press onward. Ending the page with a suspenseful, hopeless feeling to the reader. If not curious as to how they’ll get out of this. At least, that was my intent.

When I was writing how to start the story, I needed a way to subtly convey small details about my protagonist in an organic way that’s… well, telling a story. Too often, I found myself not finding every beginning scenario I came up with exciting. There were ideas of starting the story in an abnormal dream Kali would have that foreshadowed events to come, which I wasn’t even sure of yet. Or following Tonto’s escape from mannamong captivity as he retreats to Kali’s home. But they were usually stretched out and didn’t tell me anything about who they were or why I should care — bloated, yet with little substance.

Eventually, I came around to thinking how chaotic a thunderstorm can be as a native Floridian. And how scary they could be for a child when it’s awful at night since you can’t tell how severe it is. I thought, “I would hate to be out there.” And a family trip to Colorado not too long before making these pages showed me how dangerous driving around the mountainside could potentially be if you’re not carefully watching out for rockslides and some of the guard-less roads. So I combined the two to set the tone I was looking for to grab the reader’s attention right away.

While not going too in-depth to the first page’s purpose of elaborating on the theme “desire,” I thought it correctly conveyed that in a not so obvious, yet not subtle way with these first few pages. What matters is these two characters want to be out of danger but must face this storm to get what they want. And what we do know about them as people thus far is how Kali seems determined to push on even when she’s unwell, almost ready to trek through the storm by herself, and Vianne’s short temper dealing with stress, overridden by her concern for her daughter.

Looking back on this, it was the best choice to focus strictly on Kali with her mother. There is a lot of subtle info to take in that helps define our protagonist and the story going forward in less than ten pages. And these are just the first four! Something I’m quite proud of. It certainly saved me from unnecessary extra work with the previous drafts of my old long-winded prologues.

We’ll continue to elaborate more on the characterization between Kali and Vianne in the following few pages, but I wanted to end the post with this:

Before I decided to tackle The Mannamong, I spent my free time over the years observing all the fictional works I’ve read or watched while refining my ideas into many drafts. And I eventually realized that the introduction is sometimes a do-or-die moment. It’s probably what held me back from starting the comic until after I graduated from college because I somehow knew I needed it to begin strong. But as the saying goes, it’s always the first step that starts the journey, even if you’re unsure where it’s leading you. When I decided to just go for it, I finally felt confident that I was beginning the story strong.

And I hoped by explaining all this, I successfully articulated the kind of suspenseful introduction I was setting this series up for with my drawings.

While organizing some old files recently, I stumbled across something I had completely forgotten about—one of Michael’s very first published interviews.

It was from 2016, shortly after the first issue (chapter 1) of The Mannamong was released.

Reading it nearly ten years later was a strange experience.

Some things have changed dramatically. The series has grown, Michael has spent thousands more hours refining the story, and The Mannamong would eventually earn an Eisner Award nomination.

But what surprised me most wasn’t what had changed.

It was what hadn’t.

Even back then, Michael wasn’t talking about sales or becoming famous. He was talking about creating a world that children could grow up with. A world built on mystery, imagination, and hope.

As his mom, I’ve watched him spend more than half his life working toward that vision.

Here are a few moments from that interview that still resonate today.

“I wanted to create my own fictional universe.”

One of the questions asked where the inspiration for The Mannamong came from.

Michael answered:

“I just wanted to create my own fictional universe... I always believed that creating a world for the setting other than this one is the most engaging because you have to explore it. So I thought about bringing the best of both worlds by having a contemporary world being governed by an unseen world.”

Reading that today makes me smile.

At the time, readers had only seen the first steps into the world of The Mannamong.

Today, that world has grown. Readers have learned more about xemn, met Paniña, uncovered more of Tontorus’s story, and begun to understand that the bedtime story Vianne tells Kali hints at something much larger beneath the surface.

Back then, all of those ideas were still living inside Michael’s notebooks.

Kali Was There From The Beginning

One answer especially caught my attention.

When asked about Kali, Michael said:

“She was the very first character I created... I conceptualized her when I started middle school at twelve years old... She was pretty much the catalyst of how The Mannamong came to be.”

Imagine carrying a character with you for over twenty years.

Most stories begin as ideas.

Kali became something much more.

She grew alongside Michael.

As he matured as an artist and writer, she matured as a character.

Why Comics Instead of Video Games?

I had forgotten this answer completely.

Michael admitted that he originally wanted to create video games.

Then he realized something.

“All I really wanted was to focus on the story anyway.”

That simple sentence explains so much.

Every decision he’s made since then has been driven by storytelling first.

The artwork, the worldbuilding, the characters—they all exist to serve the story.

The Goal Was Never Just Adventure

One answer still describes The Mannamong better than anything we’ve written since.

Michael described it as:

“...a story about growth that I feel kids and adults can come to appreciate and learn from.”

If you’ve been reading our recent posts, you’ll know we’ve often said that The Mannamong is ultimately about hope.

That wasn’t as clearly defined back in 2016, but looking back, you can already see those ideas taking shape.

Growth.

Facing the unknown.

Learning from difficult experiences.

Those themes have always been there.

Looking Back

Reading this interview now feels a little like opening a time capsule.

The website that published it has long since disappeared.

Some of the information is outdated.

Back then there was only one issue (chapter 1).

There were Kindle promotions.

There wasn’t an Eisner nomination.

Volume 3 was still years away from being completed, and many parts of the story were still being refined.

Yet the heart of the project is exactly the same.

Michael is still trying to tell the kind of story he wanted to tell as a twelve-year-old kid—a story that encourages curiosity, imagination, and hope.

That consistency is something I admire.

Not because the journey has been easy.

But because, despite all the years, revisions, setbacks, and victories, he never lost sight of why he started.

And I think that’s why The Mannamong still feels genuine today.

Have you been following The Mannamong since the early days, or did you discover it more recently? I’d love to hear how you first found the series.

If this is your first time discovering The Mannamong, there’s never been a better time to begin.

Read Chapter 1 free and step into the world alongside Kali as she discovers that nature holds mysteries far beyond what anyone can see.

Start Reading Here

One thing I appreciate about fantasy stories is that they don’t promise every mystery will be friendly.

The world of the mannamong isn’t divided into simple good and evil.

Some creatures become guardians.

Others become hunters.

And sometimes the things we fear reveal who we really are.

Not every mannamong protects humans.

Return to the Reader Hub →

When I look at this image, I don’t think about magic.

I think about hope.

Not the kind that guarantees everything will be okay.

The kind that helps us keep going when we don’t know what comes next.

That is what makes this moment so powerful.

She gave her hope when nothing else worked.

Read Chapter 1 Free

Every great fantasy begins with a crossing.

A wardrobe.

A rabbit hole.

A hidden path.

For Kali, it begins with a dream.

This image captures one of those rare moments where the familiar world slips away and something larger takes its place.

She fell from one world into another.

Continue Chapter 1

The older I get, the more I appreciate moments like this one.

Not because of what is happening.

Because of what is about to happen.

The characters don’t know it yet.

The reader doesn’t know it yet.

But everything is about to change.

Some stories begin with a door opening.

Others begin with a storm.

Some nights feel like the world is warning you.

Start Chapter 1

She wasn’t just sick.

One of the things I love about revisiting Chapter 1 is seeing how many clues were already there from the beginning.

At this point in the story, Kali’s illness seems like a tragedy.

But looking back, it feels like the first sign that something much larger is unfolding.

Some moments only reveal their meaning after you’ve traveled further into the story.

Start Reading Chapter 1

That’s what they thought.

That’s what they hoped.

But it didn’t.

This is the moment everything begins to unravel.

Some things don’t follow the rules.

Some things don’t stop.

And when they don’t…

You start to realize something isn’t right.

If you want to see what comes next:

Enter Story

The road was already dangerous.
The storm made it worse.

She just needed to get her there.

Then the mountain broke.

The road was gone in front of them.

And there was nowhere left to go…
except somewhere they weren’t meant to be.

Some storms don’t pass.

They trap you.

And once they do,
everything begins to change.

If you want to see what comes next,
step into the world here:

Enter the world.

Not the sickness.
Not the fear that came with it.

And definitely not what followed.

This is where it begins.

Some things don’t pass.

They stay.

And once they do…
they change everything.

Enter the story

Chapter One doesn’t begin quietly.

It opens in the middle of a storm.

Lightning splits the sky. Rain floods everything. A mother is frightened.

But the storm isn’t the real change.

The real change begins with a fever.

When I started writing The Mannamong, I didn’t want the inciting moment to feel triumphant. I wasn’t interested in a clean, heroic transformation.

I wanted it to feel uncomfortable.

A fever isn’t something you choose.
It’s something that happens to you.

It disrupts sleep. For a child, it’s scary.

That felt more honest to me.

The storm is external. It sets the atmosphere. It tells you something is off in the world.

But the fever is internal. It’s personal. It isolates you.

And that’s where Kali begins.

Not with strength.
Not with clarity.
Not with destiny.

With confusion.

With heat.

With something inside her that doesn’t behave like an illness.

In fantasy, it’s tempting to explain everything immediately. To signal clearly what the power is and why it matters. But I’ve always been more interested in that space before understanding — when something feels wrong, but you don’t yet have language for it.

That’s the emotional starting point of Chapter One.

Before answers.
Before explanations.
Before control.

Just an imbalance.

The beginning of that imbalance — the storm, the fever, the first signs that something isn’t normal — is now live inside The Mannamong Reader Hub.

If you’d like to read Chapter One from the beginning, you can start here:
Enter the world.

More soon.

When Michael first imagined The Mannamong, he was twelve years old.

At that age, there was no thought of publishing, printing costs, marketing funnels, or algorithms. There was just a story that wouldn’t let go of him. A world forming in his sketchbooks. Characters that felt real. A sense, even then, that this was something he would carry for a long time. As his mother, I encouraged his love of story and listened for hours on end to his world-building.

Like many creative ideas born young, The Mannamong didn’t arrive fully formed. It grew alongside him. By the time Michael was in college, he knew with certainty that this wasn’t just a childhood pastime. This was the story he wanted to tell. After graduating, he made a defining decision: instead of letting the idea stay “someday,” he began drawing and inking the story in earnest.

That choice, to commit after years of quiet incubation, marked the real journey's beginning. And running an indie graphic novel since then has taught us lessons no course, guide, or shortcut ever could.

1. A Long Creative History Is a Strength, Not a Liability

Starting a story young comes with its own challenges. You grow. Your skills change. Your perspective deepens. There’s always a temptation to scrap early ideas or feel embarrassed by how long something has taken.

But one of the most powerful lessons from running The Mannamong is this: time invested is not time wasted.

Because Michael lived in this world for so long before committing it to the final pages, the foundation was strong. The themes had been tested internally for years. The emotional core wasn’t rushed. The story matured because he did.

An indie graphic novel doesn’t need to be fast. It needs to be honest.

2. Making the Book Is Only Half the Work

When Michael began drawing and inking The Mannamong in full after college, the focus was on craft — story, pacing, character, and art. That part felt familiar. What came later was unexpected.

Once the book existed, the scope expanded dramatically. Suddenly, creating the story was only one piece of the puzzle. There were decisions about printing, distribution, websites, descriptions, emails, ads, fulfillment, and communication with readers.

Running an indie graphic novel means wearing every hat, and this is where I come in. My many years of building brands through graphic design, print production, and website design were the perfect fit for Michael’s vision for The Mannamong. Self-publishing a graphic novel is more than the story. You have to protect it, present it, and help it find its audience.

3. Progress Is Slower Than You Want (Even When You’re Committed)

One of the biggest surprises has been how slow meaningful progress can feel.

Michael didn’t start this story on a whim. He carried it from childhood, confirmed it in college, and committed fully after graduation. Even with that level of clarity, growth didn’t suddenly accelerate.

Books take time.
Art skills improve.
Story changes.
Audiences take time.

Running The Mannamong taught us that consistency matters far more than urgency. The work compounds quietly. If he rushed the story, it wouldn’t have evolved. Most days don’t feel dramatic—but over the years, they add up.

Creative Work Is Cyclical — Just Like Story

Every great story goes through arcs:

• Beginnings → Uncertainty → Conflict → Revelation → Transformation.
  Every great creator goes through the same:

• Inspiration → Doubt → Struggle → Breakthrough → Integration.

4. Doubt Doesn’t Mean You’re on the Wrong Path

When you carry a story for decades, doubt takes on a different shape.

You question whether you’re honoring the younger version of yourself who dreamed it up. You wonder if the story still deserves the time you’re giving it. You worry about whether it will ever reach the people it’s meant for.

Running an indie graphic novel taught us that doubt isn’t a signal to stop — it’s a signal that the work matters. Michael didn’t stay with The Mannamong from age twelve because it was easy. He stayed because it kept asking something of him.

Learning to continue in the face of doubt has been essential.

5. Independence Means Protection and Responsibility

One reason Michael chose the indie path was control.

Because this story has such deep personal roots, protecting its heart matters. Independence allows that. The pacing, the tone, the way the world is revealed—all of it stays aligned with the original intention.

But independence also means carrying the weight alone. There’s no safety net. No guaranteed exposure. No one else to absorb the risk.

Running The Mannamong has shown us that independence isn’t freedom without cost — it’s freedom with accountability.

6. Worldbuilding Requires Patience

A world that began in childhood doesn’t unfold all at once.

One of the hardest lessons has been learning what not to share yet. When you’ve lived inside a story for so long, it’s tempting to reveal everything immediately. But strong worlds need room to breathe.

Running an indie graphic novel taught us to think long-term. To respect pacing. To trust that some things are better revealed slowly, book by book, reader by reader.

7. The Right Readers Matter More Than Big Numbers

When The Mannamong reaches a reader, especially a child who connects with its sense of hope — that moment carries enormous weight.

Running an indie graphic novel reframes success. It’s not just sales or followers. It’s knowing that a story that began with a twelve-year-old’s imagination is now meeting readers where they are.

That continuity from childhood creation to real-world impact is something no metric can fully measure.

8. This Is a Lifelong Project, Not a Launch

Perhaps the most important lesson of all is this:

The Mannamong isn’t a single book. It’s not even a single phase of life. It’s a story that grew with Michael — from age twelve, through college clarity, into adult commitment, and continues to evolve.

Running an indie graphic novel isn’t about “making it.” It’s about staying true to the work over time, showing up, and honoring the story’s origins while letting it grow.

And if there’s one thing this journey has proven, it’s that stories born early and nurtured patiently can become something deeply meaningful.

Not overnight.
Not easily.
But honestly.

And sometimes, that’s the most powerful way a story can exist.

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This post walks through the entire process, from the first story idea to holding the finished book, using The Mannamong as a real-world example of how one independent creator built a fantasy world step by step.

Creating a children’s graphic novel is one of the most rewarding creative paths an author-illustrator can take. It blends storytelling, visual design, and emotional truth into a form that invites young readers to step inside a world and stay awhile.

Whether you’re starting with a blank sketchbook or refining an idea that’s been with you for years, this guide walks through each major stage of the process—from the first spark of a story to sharing the finished book with readers—using The Mannamong as a case study in how an independent creator can bring a fantasy world to life.

1. Start With a Story Worth Telling

Every strong graphic novel begins with an idea that refuses to let go. For stories aimed at children, that idea should be rooted in emotion, curiosity, and growth.

When Michael began The Mannamong, his goal wasn’t to teach a lesson—it was to tell the kind of story he would have wanted to read as a child. Instead of speaking to kids, he wrote from the point of view of the protagonist and asked a simple question: How would she feel in this moment?

As you shape your own concept, consider:

• What themes will resonate with readers ages 8–12?

• Who is your main character, and what makes them relatable?

• What emotions drive the story—hope, fear, wonder, forgiveness?

The Mannamong grew from a single idea: What if invisible spirits were still among us, quietly guiding the world even after we stopped believing in them? From that spark came a layered mythology centered on courage, balance, and empathy.

Start simple. Identify a core emotional truth your readers can connect to, then let the plot and characters grow naturally around it.

2. Develop Memorable Characters

In children’s graphic novels, characters are everything. Young readers connect first through visuals—faces, expressions, posture—long before they process dialogue.

In The Mannamong, Kali Teal is an ordinary girl thrust into an extraordinary situation after meeting Tontorus, a rogue mannamong. Their uneasy relationship—marked by fear, humor, and gradual trust—drives the story forward.

When designing your cast:

• Give each character a clear role tied to the theme.

• Create distinct silhouettes that are recognizable at a glance.

• Let personality influence appearance.

Tontorus’s fiery red tones and imposing presence immediately signal danger, shaping Kali’s fear and misunderstanding. Kali’s expressive reactions reflect her emotional exhaustion and determination to uncover the truth when no one else believes her.

Sketch freely at this stage. Focus on emotion and clarity, not polish.

3. Build a World Readers Want to Explore

Kids love worlds that feel magical yet grounded—places that seem bigger than the page but still follow understandable rules.

The Mannamong blends everyday life with a hidden spiritual realm, much like Dorothy stepping into Oz. Kali’s ordinary town masks a deeper reality revealed through dreams, storms, and subtle shifts in nature. Readers uncover these secrets alongside her.

When building your world:

• Start small and familiar, then expand as the story requires.

• Define clear rules—what’s possible, what’s not, and why.

• Maintain visual consistency through color, symbols, and motifs.

In The Mannamong, Kali learns about Xemn—a spiritual energy tied to nature that allows mannamong to interact with the human world. The system has limits, which helps keep the magic believable.

Worldbuilding doesn’t need to be exhaustive. It just needs to feel intentional and alive.

4. Write the Script

A graphic novel script sits somewhere between a screenplay and a storyboard. You’ll break scenes into pages and panels, describing both dialogue and visual action.

For example:

Page 88, Panel 6:
Kali slumps over her desk, exhausted. Her mother, Vianne, stands beside her, glancing between Kali and the computer screen.

Vianne:
“Kali, don’t lean your face on the desk like that.”
“…What are you…?”

Each panel should communicate emotion, pacing, and movement. Keep dialogue concise—young readers respond best to rhythm and visual flow.

Simple tools like Google Docs, Scrivener, or Notion are more than enough for scripting. Clarity matters more than software.

5. Storyboard and Thumbnail

Before committing to finished art, create thumbnails—small, rough sketches of each page. This is where you solve pacing, composition, and visual storytelling.

Early thumbnails for The Mannamong helped refine how Kali’s dreams echoed real-world events. Many panels began as rough figures before evolving into detailed illustrations filled with light and motion.

At this stage:

• Prioritize clarity over detail.

• Experiment with angles and framing.

• Guide the reader’s eye naturally across the page.

Strong thumbnails can save countless hours later.

6. Illustrate and Ink

Once layouts are set, begin final illustration. Whether you work digitally or traditionally, choose tools that support consistency and comfort.

For The Mannamong, pages begin with digital pencils followed by clean black-and-white inks in Procreate. This approach keeps attention on expression and movement while echoing classic fantasy storytelling.

Helpful tips:

• Maintain clean, readable linework.

• Use contrast to guide emotion and focus.

• Work in batches to keep style consistent.

7. Add Color and Lettering

Color brings emotion to life. It establishes mood, tension, and warmth in ways linework alone can’t.

In The Mannamong, pages are colored in Procreate, then refined in Photoshop with subtle glow effects to enhance the magical atmosphere.

When coloring:

• Limit your palette to reinforce mood.

• Use warm tones for safety, cool tones for mystery.

• Keep lettering clean and readable—classic white balloons endure for a reason.

Choose fonts that match your tone: softer for warmth, more structured for fantasy or drama.

8. Edit, Proof, and Polish

Before publishing, review your work in print or digital proofs. Share it with beta readers—especially parents, teachers, and children in your target age range.

This stage helped refine pacing and simplify dialogue in The Mannamong. The goal isn’t perfection—it’s emotional clarity.

Ask yourself:

• Can the story be understood visually?

• Does each page encourage the next?

• Does the dialogue sound natural for a child?

Revision is where good stories become great.

9. Publish and Share

Once finished, you have several options:

• Self-publish through platforms like Shopify, Substack, Amazon KDP, IngramSpark or Kickstarter with small offset print runs.

• Pitch to publishers specializing in children’s graphic novels

• Share chapters online to build an audience first

The Mannamong began as a webcomic before becoming a self-published full-color print series available through the author’s website and Amazon.

If this is your first project, start small. A 32–40 page story is enough to demonstrate your voice and vision.

10. Keep the Wonder Alive

Completing a graphic novel is an accomplishment—but what sustains it is love for the story itself. Kids can feel sincerity on the page.

Every chapter of The Mannamong carries a quiet message of hope: that light exists even when it’s unseen, and courage often begins with compassion. That emotional truth—not technical perfection—is what turns a book into something lasting.

So begin. Sketch the first panel. Write the first line. Every great world starts with belief.

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There’s something incredibly healing about stories where characters face darkness but still choose compassion — where the world might tremble, but kindness remains the core.

The “Hope Is Real” tees, bundles, stickers… they’re not merch to us. They’re reminders. Tiny signals that you’re not alone, even on the hard days.

And readers have told us they keep the stickers on laptops, phones, journals, hospital notebooks…

It means more than you know.

Hope is Real Collection

If you want more posts like this — soft, gentle reflections — you’re in the right place.

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Michael finished a page this week that made me stop and stare. I can’t show the full thing, but here’s a section of it. The level of detail he insists on is… well, “obsessive” is the loving word I’ll use.

We’ve been balancing:

• finishing Volume 3 pages

• selling at “Atomic Bazaar” marketplace

• testing new ad creatives

• sketching future merch

• and keeping the “Hope is Real” messaging front and center

Some weeks are chaotic.
Some are smooth.
This one was a little of both.

If you enjoy seeing the creative chaos behind the scenes, hit the ♥️ — it helps new readers discover us.

Hi everyone — Kathy here.
If you’re new, welcome. If you’ve been following The Mannamong for a while, thank you for being part of this little universe we’re growing.

Today I want to start simple: why we’re here.

Michael has spent years creating a world built on a single idea — that hope is real, even when everything feels uncertain. I’ve watched him pour thousands of hours into these books with a kind of devotion that’s rare.

This Substack isn’t about polished announcements or perfectly timed marketing.
It’s about the journey — the messy, human, behind-the-scenes story of building something meaningful.

What you’ll get here:

• Updates

• Creative process insights

• The ups and downs of indie publishing

• Why stories matter

• And little glimpses of the heart behind The Mannamong

If you’re looking for a space that feels like sitting at a kitchen table with fellow creators and readers… welcome. We’re glad you’re here.

— Kathy

👉 Tap “Subscribe” to join our growing circle.

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Every great story starts small — a spark of imagination that grows through love, courage, and creativity.

That’s exactly how The Mannamong began. Just one idea, drawn late at night, shared between family, and nurtured with hope until it became a series that inspires readers of all ages.

This Small Business Saturday, we’re celebrating that creative spark — the heart of indie storytelling and the readers who keep imagination alive.

When you shop small, you’re not just buying a book. You’re helping build worlds. You’re helping creators keep telling stories that matter. Every copy of The Mannamong is handcrafted with care, from the first pencil sketch to the last brushstroke of color. Every order supports the next page, the next dream, the next moment of wonder.

So this holiday season, gift something that lasts — a story that reminds us of courage, forgiveness, and the power of hope.

🎁 Use code HOPE10 for 10% off:
👉 https://michaellengyel.com/collections/holiday-bundles

Thank you for helping small creators thrive. Thank you for believing in imagination.