COLIN Wicking was just 10 (or so) years old when he scored his first gig as a newspaper cartoonist.

Yes, it was for the school newsletter, but for someone who would go on to be one of the nation’s best caricaturists, it was “pretty cool”.

But it was in a North Queensland high school that ‘Wicking’ had his first real start.

The cheeky year nine student was less than impressed at the amount of homework his English teacher had doled out and felt it necessary to let her know.

Leaving a little cartoon on her desk one lunchtime, he thought nothing more of it.

But that wasn’t the end.

The English teacher headed down to the local paper who published the drawing.

The next thing he knew, he had a weekly spot in the paper and an income of $5 a week.

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Wicking first moved to the Northern Territory in 1981.

He’d already spent a few years working in newspapers.

But being one of “those kids”, he’d also already been fired twice.

The cartoonist found himself in Sydney trying to get a foot in the door but having left school in year 11, he was finding it a bit difficult.

He’d had interviews at big papers like The Daily Telegraph but at the time they were strict about having your matriculation (now year 12).

So, after eight months on the dole, he decided to head up to Darwin for two weeks to visit his uncle who suggested he stop “sitting on his bum in Sydney” and instead sit on it in the Top End.

The plan was to continue on back to Queensland but within three days he had a job at the Darwin Star newspaper.

He would go on to work for about 14 different papers across the Northern Territory, all of which (except one notable one) have since closed down, though that’s no reflection on Wicking’s talent.

People were starting papers left, right and centre, he says.

He lasted at the Darwin Star for about a year before heading down the track to work on the Star in Alice and then picked up work from Dawn Lawrie on a paper in Darwin again.

Throughout that time, he’d filled in on some casual shifts at the NT News – a few months in 1985 and a few in 1987 – but nothing was permanent.

It was during one of those casual stints in 1988 that he was approached by the then general manager, John Hogan, who had a proposition for him.

He was headed to the Townsville Bulletin with a couple of journos and ad reps and did Wicking want to be the regular cartoonist?

Tony Dean was still the permanent illustrator at the NT News so Wicking headed east.

It was, in his words, a disaster.

But, for the Territory – and for Wicking himself – the move to Queensland was a blessing in disguise.

Within a few months he was back at the NT News, as the regular cartoonist where he would stay for the next 34 years.

Going through his original artwork as he prepared to donate it to the NT Archives last year, Wicking realised something.

In the Territory, nothing really changes.

Over the 40 years he’d lived here, Darwin had gotten bigger and had taller buildings but it was still facing the same issues it was on the day he arrived.

The politics was the politics, and no matter who was in government, there wasn’t a lot of change.

He’d covered a lot of major events in his time but Wicking hasn’t always been well received – well not entirely.

In the early days, people didn’t now how to handle the types of cartoons he was drawing, and so they created big reactions in the community.

He was on Media Watch every second week, just about, and received more than his fair share of Human Rights Commission complaints.

And there were letters from the Bishop every Easter over his depictions of Christ on the cross.

Those first few years were full on, he says, but eventually those people got used to his style of satire.

It helped that when there was a complaint, Wicking was always happy to invite the concerned citizen in for a coffee and talk them through the logic behind his humour.

Once someone wrote a complaint to the Australian head of News Corp who included Wicking in his response, which discussed freedom of speech being the cornerstone of democracy.

Wicking still has that letter.

In fact, he has a lot of letters of complaint, too, pinned above his drawing board.

They’re a sign of success, he says, a sign that you got people talking.

But over the years those spaces of genuine communication between cartoonist and complainer disappeared as Darwin caught up to the more litigious world.

Nowadays, lawyers have to get involved and the job has become more difficult.

There are boundaries Wicking will no longer push, even though his insights were pretty clear at the time.

Seeing what had happened to cartoonists like Bill Leak and Mark Knight, who were vilified for their satirical shrewdness – Knight even received death threats against his children – Wicking began to self-censor a little bit.

He rarely covers Indigenous affairs anymore, partly because the land councils have become much less politically active, he says, but partly too because anti-discrimination laws have meant his analysis of an issue can get him sued.

And with that comes immediate legal fees or massive fines. The laws shouldn’t apply to media commentators, Wicking says, who are commenting on day-to-day issues.

Because that stifles important debate.

For most people, a work day means getting up in the morning, having breakfast and heading into the office, where you’ll stay for eight hours before driving home again.

But, for a cartoonist, life is a little different.

At the same time each day, Wicking sits down at his desk and starts to think about the cartoon.

Part of the difficulty is training the brain to look at things from outside the square, he says, but after a while the ideas begin to form quickly.

Pen uncapped – unlike some other illustrators, Wicking still likes the simplicity of pen on paper rather than computerised design – he draws with simplicity.

People only spend two or three seconds looking at a cartoon, he says, and they’re either going to get the joke or not get it, get offended, get outraged or laugh within that same period.

Usually it’s the first idea that’s the best idea, which starts to make the job slightly easier.

As does working in Darwin, Wicking says. The town is so unique and provides so many characters that it’s easy to make jokes about a shared experience.

Politicians are straightforward because the way the public perceives them dictates their character on paper. Chief Minister Michael Gunner regularly has baby Hudson nearby, for example, and there’s always the fart, which first appeared after another politician suggested the Chief couldn’t pass gas without the OK from his then chief-of-staff.

But the singlet-wearing bloke and the Darwin family tend to be fan favourites because people can see themselves in the character.

And if he gets truly stuck on ideas, there’s always the view out the window – storms have featured prominently in Wicking cartoons over the years.

But it’s the community vibe in Darwin that has made it so easy for the lovable cartoonist to connect with his community.

While most of his metro daily colleagues are doing federal politics, Wicking is drawing pictures of wheelie bins in the wild weather.

He’s drawing Darwin.

Decades later and Wicking is heading back to where it all began as he relocates to Queensland.

He’ll still be drawing and writing and using all of his creative skills but he’ll also be taking a well-deserved rest after a long and impressive career.

A piece of advice he has for budding cartoonists is to just keep drawing and never throw anything away.

You get to see how much you’ve improved that way, he says, but there are other benefits too. You can look back yourself but you can also show others.

For example, one of his first points of call when he gets back to the town he grew up in?

That old English teacher’s house to say: “Thank you”.