Manga artists work hard. Like so many people in creative jobs, their hours are frequently full of nothing to do or deadline chaos. Even now, manga artists work on tight deadlines. The traditional meal for manga artists and their assistants was ramen, cigarettes and beer. But why, you might ask? Because, also traditionally, manga artists pay their assistants out of their own pockets, as they work on the serialized chapters of their story, until a volume is made, then the artists would get royalties from the sale of the collected volume. For more established artists, they might have studios where assistants apply to learn from them, as well as do background work. Probably some young artists trade assists, each helping the other out. If you are really interested in a relatively recent experience, I recommend Jamie Lyn Lano’s The Princess of Tennis: My year working in Japan as an assistant manga artist. The book is out of print, but you might find it through Interlibrary Loan or check out this interview with them on Youtube. Jamie worked as an assistant to Takeshi Konomi, creator of A Prince of Tennis. As manga artists gain success sometimes their editors can find them help, and I imagine most know a few freelancers who can do some gig work these days.
You may be wondering if this model is different now? Probably a little yes, but mostly no. Crowdfunding, comic markets and digital publishing still mean deadlines, even if a creator is no longer crushed in the crucible of weekly series as often. I know younger artists are keeping more control of their IP and even older artists change publishers now, which used to be absolutely not a thing that happened.
In A Mangaka’s Weirdly Wonderful Workplace, streaming on Crunchyroll, details a fictitious current set-up, centered on Futami-sensei an artist with a current hit manga series, who is drowning under deadlines, but still isn’t sure enough of her success or status to ask for help. Futami appears to be a hot mess, but we are instantly made aware that she had a terrible editor, who undermined her constantly, so her lack of confidence is wholly understandable. Just in case we forgot what a shitbox he was, we’re reminded later that it is very definitely his fault that she’s so fragile. This tracks with some recent stories in which artists like schwinn have posted how their editor belittled their work. The pain in Futami’s experience feels personal and while I hesitate to claim it’s “clearly” autobiographical, I’ll remind you that Kuzushiro’s first breakout hit was Kimi no Tamenara Shineru, a Heian comedy about Sei Shonagon that ultimately went 14 volumes. It feels awfully personal. Which makes it more powerful.
Futami’s current editor Sato and she have a very cute, fauxmance relationship. Still not entirely comfortable just being honest, and often too excited to remember to be professional, they quietly crush across the table at each other. It’s very cute and played very gently. Sato is a safe space, not a lover.
The rest of the cast builds up quickly, Futami’s competent assistant Ha-san, remote assistant Nekonote and Nashida, a woman who is now saddled with the terrible editor who has killed her series. Nashida’s day drinking. It’s not funny how much trauma she’s suffered. But in her pain she is really very funny. Her repeated “editors and men, they are all the same” is a line delivered with such absolute deadpan perfection by Kobayashi Yuu that I twice laughed out loud.
My only objection to the anime is the same as it is in the manga, which I read, but did not review here. It is very shouty. It’s just part of Futami’s personality.
Ratings:
Art – 8
Story – It’s a sit-com more than a story 7
Characters – 8
Service – None thus far
Yuri – 1, maybe two, for Futami’s akogare of Sato.
Overall – 8
This is meant as a workplace comedy, so expect inside jokes and “mangaka writes about being a mangaka” stuff, but so far the ensemble is fun, the cast excellent. Itou Miku as Ha-san, her voice is filled with gravitas and competent calm. If you don’t mind occasional shoutiness, this is a fun, and warm-hearted look at the life of a mangaka.
In 
