In the last twenty five years, Harvey Pekar has established himself as an extremely influential comics creator and a somewhat eccentric cultural institution. To be honest, the only thing really "eccentric" about Pekar is his ageless refusal to put up with much crap from anybody -- that, and his dedication to sharing intimate stories about his life and his insights into our society through his ongoing comics project, American Splendor. Pekar began self-publishing American Splendor in 1976 at the age of 34 with the help of a few well-known artists, including Robert Crumb.

The series has always been somewhat controversial and not entirely well-liked within the comics industry, perhaps because it bears little resemblance to what many people would consider a comic book to be -- nobody wears spandex, there's never any intergalactic warfare or international drama, and maybe once has a naked lady graced its pages. Pekar writes mostly autobiographical stories about personal struggles he's faced (the award-winning graphic novel Our Cancer Year is a harsh but shining example of how well his stories have worked), but most issues of American Splendor also include illustrated biographies or reports on musicians and authors he respects, and intelligent rants about social ills that few people seem to care about.

Pekar recently turned sixty, and what he writes about in his own life has taken a somewhat more melancholy turn, since he's dealing with issues like the onset of old age and the frightening possibility that, like his parents who each died relatively young, he might someday end up with a terrible disease like Alzheimers. So it would be misleading to say that American Splendor is a fun time to be read by all, but discerning readers will always appreciate Pekar's wit and stamina, and the way he crafts compelling stories from relatively mundane aspects of his life. I spoke with Pekar recently about how his life is going and how it's affecting his work on American Splendor. Here's what he told me:

Shawna Ervin-Gore: When you first started American Splendor, why did you chose to tell your stories in the medium of comics?

Harvey Pekar: I think the main reason was that comics' potential was hardly being scratched at that point. There were some pretty amusing strips, but most comic books at the time were still being written for kids, and it was clear that you could do anything with comics that you could do with any other art form, but less of it was being done. I'd been familiar with comics, and I'd collected 'em when I was a kid, but after I got into junior high school, there wasn't much I was interested in.

More specifically, what stimulated me was I met Robert Crumb in 1962; he lived in Cleveland for a while. I took a look at his stuff, and of course Crumb couldn't do everything, but after looking at his stuff it occurred to me he was doing stuff beyond what other writers and artists were doing. It was a step beyond Mad, and it seemed to me that you could do anything in comics. So I started doing my thing, which is mainly influenced by novelists, stand up comedians, and that sort of thing.

SE-G: How would you describe what you were doing with American Splendor when you first started the series compared to what you're doing with it now?

HP: American Splendor is just an ongoing journal. It's an ongoing autobiography. I started it when I was in my early thirties, and I just keep going. Essentially all I've wanted this to be is a journal of a life, because I think that sort of thing is worth recording.

SE-G: What sort of topics have you been exploring lately?

HP: I'm writing about my life. I'm sixty now. My parents both got Alzheimer's disease in their late sixties and died a few years later. I figure that could very well happen to me. So it's gonna be quite a challenge to get through the next few years. My last comic, The Terminal Years, set the stage for what I'll be facing. I've got a twelve-year-old foster kid right now, and I've got to support her and my wife, who's unable to work.

The core of my income comes from working as a file clerk at the V.A. hospital in Cleveland, where I make about $24,000 a year. I've got thirty five years in at the V.A., so I could retire, but if I did, I'd only take in sixty five percent of what I make now.

I supplement my pay with freelance writing jobs. My income from that has fluctuated a lot from year to year, although overall it's going up. So deciding what to do about money is a major issue. Just keeping alive and trying to keep my wife and kid alive. The longer I do freelance writing on books and music, the more contacts I make. I've been doing comics for some of the newspapers I write for, you know, on jazz and musicians, and I've been doing some comics online.

My direct income from American Splendor has leveled off, and I don't expect it to go up. I don't look for any support from comic book fans, certainly, and comics aren't in the best shape anyway. On top of that, I've probably had my day in the sun. I think I've influenced a lot of comic book writers -- I think I've focused a lot more than other writers before me on realistic detail and the details of everyday living. Other people writing about me have said that I've influenced a lot of people, and there are some artists who have credited me with influencing them in interviews, and some of them are a lot more popular than I am today. So that's another reason I think that my day in the sun or my fifteen minutes, or however you'd care to say it, is over. I don't expect that to turn around. So if I'm going to make any money at comics, I'm going to have to get them published -- initially, anyway -- outside of comics, like in newspapers or magazines, then collect them into comics.

I've always felt that my work has a lot more interest for just about any reader. I think that the people who would be the least interested in my work would be people who read lots of comic books. I'm looking to make money possibly from movie options, too. I've got one going now -- I just talked to them yesterday and they said they were working on it. The first idea flopped, and I don't know if they'll ever get around to proposing anything else after that.

The guy at the company that most recently optioned American Splendor is Ted Hope of Good Machines. That's the company, as you know, that made such movies as The Ice Storm. He's a good guy, and he really likes my work, and he's treated me very well. But I think the chances are against him being able to put together a movie. There are other people who have expressed interest, so I might be able to make money by optioning the rights to American Splendor again. If I did it would be helpful, and it might enable me to retire from my V.A. job. I don't expect to make billions of dollars, but if I can't make twenty five or fifty thousand dollars in one lump, chances are I'll probably keep working 'til I'm sixty seven, at which time I'll get something like eighty-something percent of my salary, and I couldn't go any higher than that.

SE-G: Do you like your job at the V.A.?

HP: Well, relatively speaking, I think it's been a good job. I've had it so long, I enjoy the people, and the work isn't very taxing. And also, my job involves moving around a lot. So I can do relatively easy, or relatively simple, work -- and talk to people while I'm doing it. It's sort of a major part of my social life.

SE-G: And you've been there long enough now to enjoy certain freedoms, like taking phone calls.

HP: Yeah, they're pretty nice about that. It's almost like a family for me now. The employment situation in Cleveland isn't that great, so a job at the V.A. isn't considered as bad as it might be in a place where jobs are plentiful. So people tend to stay here, and I've got a thing going. I joke with these people -- one person, I'll talk about sports with 'em, and I'll talk about music with someone else.

SE-G: Some of these people wind up in your comics, too. Do you ever get feedback from people you've written about? Do you show them your comics when they get published?

HP: Sure I do, and they enjoy it. It's extremely seldom that anybody wants me to change what I've written about them. I can hardly remember any time that's happened. Generally I portray them in a good light, if they're friends. Of course, there are some people that I really dislike that I've written about, and I don't go up to them and ask for their approval ( laughs).

SE-G: Where are you getting your writing published elsewhere?

HP: Jazz Is, Jazz Times, Bass Player Magazine, The Austin Chronicle, The Boston Herald. In Cleveland, I write for a paper called The Scene.

SE-G: And aren't you doing an ongoing thing with an NPR website?

HP: Yeah. Currently I'm writing for ... it's called Public Interactive. I hope that works out. It's a very nice job. And I also do commentary on a local NPR station. I can talk about pretty much anything I want to talk about.

SE-G: Is that weekly?

HP: Nah, it's irregular. Probably once a month. That gig has sort of thinned out, but it gives me a chance to do what some people would call "rants," or "schtick." I talk a lot about politics or whatever comes to mind. They've even asked me to read a couple of my comics stories. I read one on Valentine's Day called "Alice Quinn," about when I was between marriages. Some lady that I'd known as a kid and had a secret crush on, I ran into her at the bank, and we got to talking. She was nice as ever, and I looked at her hand, and she had a wedding ring on. I went over to her house and I met her family, and all that. It was nice, but it's sort of a tearjerker. I went home and felt kinda melancholy. And the next day I got up and went to work.

Pick up American Splendor: Bedtime Stories by Harvey Pekar, with art by Joe Sacco, Frank Stack, Dean Haspiel, and others, available June 7.