NO SHARSIES.
In other news, I suggest checking out Best WebComics. The folks there are working on creating a place where readers can find great comics and discover new ones in an easy to browse setup. Not to mention other news, articles, and interviews. Worth taking a stop over and browsing.
Sometimes I reflect on the people you see credited in comics and graphic novels for doing all the lettering and wonder what kind of world produces someone full of self hatred and masochism. Really. If you feel you are ever getting too confident, letter for five minutes. Problem solved.
Or perhaps I just need to practice more.
One of my end of week morning routines is coffee and an hour noodling a comic to death with paste ups, white cover, and 0.000001 markers. It’s getting obsessive. You would think I would just clean it up in Photoshop and typeset it. Yep. You would think.
Next week: the crew wraps up the 69 Tints story and it fades into canon as we move on into new waters. Or something.
Theft is the sincerest form of flattery. Or laziness. I can’t remember which.
Based on a true story. Sort of. In my imagination sometimes.
The internets are a dark, scary place. Like the basement of your third cousin who never married.
If you are inclined, y’all can find the start of this epic chapter here.
Poor MacGuffin. He’ll probably never be the same.
Happy Friday the 13th. Unless your dog was rear ended by a car. Of course.
If you are inclined, yinz can find the start of this epic chapter here.
The mystery author revealed. SHOCKING. WHO CAN THIS STRANGER BE?
Apparently Chester now wears shirts. I didn’t know myself to be honest. I was as surprised as anyone. Funny how your own characters can surprise you. Should be interesting to see how his fashion sense develops.
Writing badly is fun. Pretty much that’s it in a nutshell. Also again, a comic that started as a simple concept spiraled out of control. Which is good. Sometimes.
So you don’t get the eye strain and because I care, here’s the page.
CHAPTER 4
The Alien Way
SHE AWOKE AT DAWN. The sun shone through the gaping holes in the agey brickwork from the previous nights battle with the Dystopasoldierd. Felicity watched the bandage covered stranger standing in the light. The beams seemed to evoke a mysterious, paranormal twinkling from the wrappings filling her with awe.
“Thank you for saving me. I don’t remember you from the opening ceremonies of the Insomnia Challenge. Who are you?” she asked. He turned and gazed at her, his tall regal handsome rugged frame dark against the sun.
“My name is Pharaoh Phillipe Nun Photoblu and I believe together we can win the Challenge and destroy the rulers of Dystopiadome Six, returning freedom, love, and music to the people.” “But how?” she pleaded. “Our deep thoughts and emotions that none but us in the world feel make us special, but is that enough?” “Perhaps not. But…I have a secret.” he said, pausing to look at the Rebelliofire symbol on his gloves. “I…am not human. I come to your people from Saturn. Only I did not expect to find this human emotion of love.” he finished, looking at her inquisitorivaly.
“On Saturn” she said, moving closer to him, “do people express affection?” “Yes,” he began hesitantly, “but not as you earthlings know it.” “Show me” she whispered coquettishly.
He reached into his satchel. “Can you beat me into unconsciousness with this loaf of stale pumpernickel while reciting The Tay Bridge Disaster?” he breathed.
Gingerly she took the crusty bread and with a heavy
I try not to judge anyone by their taste in books or movies. My own is eclectic which I am self-aware of, and I don’t mean that in a ‘I’m a cool hipster into all the stuff no one knows about’ way. And I am ok that there are some things I hold dearly that I know are not going to be listed among the high points of culture by the futuristic alien archaeologists of 3023. Still some of the current entertainment has me at a loss. Is it me? It’s probably me. It usually is.
Two thoughts on making these inky runes. First, I really need to work on my typography. For whatever reason I do these by hand, bristol, ink, pencils…the only thing I am missing is perhaps a guttering candle and a goat hair robe. Perhaps I shall spend a day copying the phone book by hand with a quill pen in Belwe.
Also – it’s interesting how the long term story vs. one off comic alternates. After a run of one or two off comics, I start to think ‘I haven’t done anything substantial in a while. Something to really look at the characters. I shall do that.’. Then about halfway through it becomes ‘I so desperately need to draw them doing something incomprehensibly stupid.’
We’ll see how far this story goes. I’m not even sure at this point. Is that disorganized or hapless? Maybe? Yes? Probably.
