GENERAL COMMENTS

Alas, we have next to none graphic evidents showing how Barks worked with his story pages for the simple reason that he threw out the material that he decided not to use, and the inked pages he delivered to the publisher were incinerated after use (see what little has survived HERE)! Therefore we shall never know more about Barks' initial working processes than what he has revealed during numerous later interviews. Here are some examples:

I would read my storyboard over and over again. Not only that, I would read the script probably ten or twenty times before I ever started drawing it. Then, I'd go over the storyboard up on the wall probably another ten times before I ever got around to inking it.

Before I started drawing a comic, I would read my script for it ten or twenty times. Then, when I made my drawings, I'd put up a page - that was eight panels - and alongside it another eight panels. I would put about eight pages on one of those big storyboards, pin them up there with pushpins. Then I could analyze whether I had carried some sequences too far or whether I needed to add a little bit of guts somewhere else.
First I put up the blue-pencil sketches to see whether I needed to enlarge on a sequence or cut it down. I would read those storyboards over and over. Then, when I got it all inked, I would read it again; and oftentimes I would take a whole page and throw it away. I tried to boil those stories down to include only the necessary things. That's why they always appeared so tight and read so quickly.

When I made my blue pencil drawings, I'd put up a page (that was eight panels), then alongside it another eight panels. I could put about eight pages on one of those big storyboards (Celotex boards - Editor's remark) and see whether I needed to enlarge on a sequence or cut down on it. Then, when I got it all inked, I would read it again. Oftentimes I would take a whole page and throw it away. I tried to boil those stories down to where only the necessary things were in. That's why they always appeared so tight and read so quickly. I also tried to strengthen the end of each page with a little cliffhanger. I also used to balance left and right pages to make a two-page spread. I always tried to keep my action moving toward the center of the book.

I would read the storyboard over and over again. Not only that, I would read the script probably ten or twenty times before I ever started drawing it. Then I'd go over the storyboard up on the wall probably another ten times before I ever got around to inking it. But I never set any definite rules for myself, because I found that it cramped my creativity. If I felt that I wanted to ink, I just went ahead and inked a few pages. In general, though, I think that I would spend four or five days polishing an idea, then another four or five days writing the confounded thing. Then the penciling and the inking would take another ten days - for a ten-page story. All the polishing was in self-defense. I found that if I polished it before I put all that work into it, it was much easier to make corrections.
Then I would letter in the final dialogue, just in blue pencil, and once I had the whole page all constructed that way in rough, then I would go back and ink these characters. I would ink each one starting with the head usually, and going down to all the different details of the body. And then I would hand the page over to my wife, who would do the lettering and ink in all the background details (Barks is talking about his third wife, Garé, here. His second wife, Clara, also helped to a certain degree, but she never worked with lettering and backgrounds - Editor's remark).
She'd ink in all those things. And she would put in the solid blacks in the ducks' jackets, and the eyeballs, and so on (according to Garé herself she could never draw the ducks: I don't know why. I had a lot of difficulties with them - Editor's remark). And she would hand it back to me for whatever finishing was required, like putting the little white dashes in the ducks' eyes, the highlights that showed what direction they were looking.

I usually draw the head first, which establishes the size of the characters, and then I draw an action line. For example, in a pose the head and the torso is stretched out. The action calls for them to be stretched out much longer than they naturally would be. Their hats have to react - they fly off of their heads. Their coattails have to fly back in the air.
In other words, every part of the ducks and their clothing has to show some bit of the action. It has to flow with the action. And their eagerness as they think they're going to land in a big lake full of water must show, too, in their expressions.

Breaking a story down into the panels was quite a bit of drudgery. But that's where all these little gags would come in - during the business of breaking it down; little sight gags and little dialogue gags come at that time. So when I got my plot all broken down into eight-panel pages and the whole thing written out and sprinkled with gags, the real pleasure came: Sitting down to draw.
I liked the roughing out fairly well, but when I really relaxed was on the inking. I could have three or four pages all drawn in blue pencil, and then I'd have it easy for a while! I would start to ink it. That's where I really put the polish into it. Sometimes I would see still another thing that I could do in the way of a gag. I'd just erase or maybe throw away half a page and draw it over again in order to do a new gag.

My drawings almost never looked as well staged or technically executed as I had pictured them in my imagination.