Category: comics

disappointments

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You know how when your favourite artists love something, you kind of assume that because you’re into their work, you’d also be into the stuff that inspired them?

Like if Foo Fighters said they were into the Clash and the Ramones, I’d be like, I feel that, man.

That doesn’t always work. For example, I understand why Kurt Cobain would be into the Vaselines or David Bowie, but I will never understand the Meat Puppets.

The same, apparently, is true of Steve Aylett. I found him because multiple authors I was into said he was so good and groundbreaking and awesome.

Yeah.

I don’t get it.

The Crime Studio is an entire book, essentially written in the style of Luis telling his heist story in Ant-Man. And while that can be a funny bit over the course of a minute or three in a two hour movie, it’s annoying as fuck over a hundred and fifty pages (while simultaneously having the gall to slag Updike, Amis and Delillo – dude, you’re not better. This is college kid trying on an 80s movie punk persona and thinking he’s somehow managed the depth of James O’Barr, while really only succeeding in pretentious amateurishness posing as rebel pastiche. Who’s pretentious now, motherfucker? That’s right. Pastiche).

So, sorry, authors whose work I respect and adore. In this one, we don’t agree. Thumbs down.

Target: 1500 words
Written: 449 words, novel: Father Lightning

Read: The Crime Studio, Steven Aylett
Comics: Gen 13 v4 37-39, Team 7 v4 0
Music: Fight For Your Mind, Ben Harper

the stuff

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I think I saved the ending, but yeah, it really didn’t fit with the theme of the thing.

Man, I’m going to have to figure that out. You can’t build up this epic shit, then suddenly decide the protagonist (well, sort of a protagonist) is going to kill everyone (literally – like everyone).

Anyway, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about whether I have the stuff.

Obviously, astronaut has sailed, but in my chosen field (which I’ve yet to actually work in), do I have it?

That thing that makes great artists actually great?

Do I have that thing?

This, I do not know.

I suspect you only know it when you’re through it. And if you never do it, then guess what?

You don’t got it.

Target: 1500 words
Written: 710 words, comic: The Stuff 6

Read: The Shooting Party, Anton Chekhov
Comics: Fables: The Wolf Among Us 13-16
Music: 21 Guns Live, Green Day

candied pecans

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I don’t know how this day got so far away from me.

Editing, I suppose.

Editing is always time consuming. Yet here we are, with time to candy some pecans.

So, it ain’t all bad.

Target: 1500 words
Written: 1613 words, comic: The Stuff 5

Read: The Broom Of The System, David Foster Wallace
Comics: Fairest 30-32, Fables 146
Music: 2006 - BBC Radio 1, The Strokes

pounding it through

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Hammered. Plowed. Slammed. Bashed it out.

I’ve two issues left in The Stuff, and so far, I can’t believe it’s gone at the pace it has.

Good for me.

Golf clap for Empty.

Target: 1500 words
Written: 2712 words, comic: The Stuff

Read: The Broom Of The System, David Foster Wallace
Comics: Fairest 28-29, Fables 144-145
Music: May 1st, 2004, Local H (auf wiedersehen)

i pull a card every day

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It’s a wishful thinking thing, like a horoscope, but more personal.

Today was supposed to be a good day.

And it had its moments.

But mostly, I wanted to fall asleep. To do the few things I needed to do (read, write, sex, etc.) and go the fuck to sleep.

I did edit. And I read, a little. Not as much as I’d like. If I want to do any better at it, I’ll have to do it before bed.

Which I hate.

I’m already exhausted. Why rush it? Of course, if I don’t do it, it establishes precedent. Starts a habit. You know how in your mind, once you do something, even once, it becomes possible to do it again and again? The whole four minute mile thing, and sadly, acts of evil. Do it once and you know you’re capable of it.

Do it again, and well…

Let’s just say Donald has practice. This doesn’t happen overnight. His soul is as warped as a soul can possibly be.

But let’s not think about him. I have a couple more issues of Fables I’d like to read…

Target: 1400 words
Written: 2017 words, comic: The Stuff

Read: Secrets And Lies: Digital Security In A Networked World, Bruce Schneier (fascinating stuff - never know I could be so into cryptology, outside of Digital Fortress)
Comics: Fables 110-113
Music: August 27, 1991, Aladin, Bremen, Nirvana

still crashing out

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I know this is because I’ve got myself under a ton of pressure to finish this book before Christmas.

Literally. I’ve set the date as December 23rd.

Finished by that date, so I can sit back with a cigar and a whiskey and fucking kick some goddamned ass.

Then to lighten things up for a bit with some poetry, more short stories and comics, maybe a hip little ditty or three.

Then, maybe, by the time March rolls around, I’ll be ready for canon project #3.

And maybe I’ll head back to historical.

Paranormal.

Lovecraft country, baby. I am the man of a thousand ideas; and a thousand more I will never have time to complete.

Target: 1400 words
Written: 1483 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Prozac Nation, Elizabeth Wurtzel
Comics: Fables 16-19
Music: Working Undercover For The Man, They Might Be Giants

icons i won’t be

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I used to want to be William Gibson or George Orwell or J.R.R. Tolkien. Even in my modern days, I idolize Doris Lessing, Andrzej Sapkowski and Thomas Wolfe.

I doubt any of them ever had to write a scene where a fat boor took a messy dump on someone’s front stoop.

Perhaps I should set my sights lower.

Like, MAD magazine or National Lampoon lower.

I’d love to be e.e. cummings or Gord Downie. I’d love to write with the sensitivity of Alan Moore or the abstraction of Kelly Sue Deconnick. Kafka, Chekhov, Palahniuk.

And I’m writing about a fat guy’s feces.

Maybe someday, I could reach even Second City.

Target: 1400 words
Written: 1488 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: The Never-Ending Present, Michael Barclay
Comics: Youngblood v7 #1 (oh dear god, another reboot, with a storytelling style that's no better than it was in the first Youngblood miniseries.  Give up, man.  This shit ain't working.)
Music: Woody Guthrie Essentials, Woody Guthrie (how apropos is Lindbergh?)

youngblood

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I mean, Jesus Christ, Rob. Reboot after retool after dramatic change, like you’re trying to stuff the entirety of fifty to seventy years of X-Men/Avengers tales into a 22 page comic. You can’t go three fucking issues without rebooting the fucking team. Your most interesting characters were killed off, or disappeared, or rendered useless. There are so many goddamn loose threads and things and people that show up like we’re supposed to know them and then just vanish.

Add to that the fact that nearly every character you created is a straight rip-off of a Marvel or DC character and well, fuck, man. No wonder people deride your work. MacFarlane and Jim Lee did better art; everyone does better writing. It’s pretty clear that your ego got in the way of your progression; sometimes, success too early kills the instinct for growth.

Evolution is better than talent; a work ethic and a willingness to adapt will always beat natural skill.

I mean, I don’t know Rob. He might be a perfectly nice guy, but goddamn. This universe is a mess, and Brigade and Bloodstrike aren’t any better.

Consistency. Uniquity. Time to learn who people are – these are the ties that bind, the things that draw us to characters, not cheap knockoffs, splashy art and disjointed storytelling that reads like me trying to write my first novel, discarding and changing, abandoning, getting sick of an idea that’s not working and starting over with the same idea, with a twist, but instead of letting it evolve into something consistent for the world to see when it’s ready, you just do it all over and over again. No wonder people can’t seem to stick, and so many of these series or story arcs get rebooted after one to two issues.

You need to go back to basics, ditch the knockoffs and focus on the things that actually worked (which wasn’t much). Of course, yet another reboot is an interest killer, so maybe not. Maybe just put this fucker to bed, and admit, after thirty-plus years?

This shit ain’t gonna work out.

Target: 1400 words
Written: 1413 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: The Never-Ending Present, Michael Barclay
Comics: Youngblood v4 8-9, Brigade v4 1, Bloodstrike 26
Music: With The Beatles, The Beatles

remember

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Now, more than ever.

Remember.

When the masks come off, it will be the face of the hopeful that shine, and the face of the condemned that bleed with fear.

Remember.

Target: 1400 words
Written: 1623 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Quiet: The Power Of Introverts, Susan Cain
Comics: Shattered Image 1-2, X-Force/Youngblood 1, Extremely Youngblood 1
Music: Wild Horses, The Rolling Stones

barking

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I don’t know what the deal is the last few days, but my girls won’t stop barking.

It’s driving me insane. It’s impossible to read a book or edit a scene with this going on.

I can barely get through a comic.

Five minutes, ladies. All I’m asking for.

Maybe twenty. An hour.

Three hours, tops.

Maybe eight.

Nine?

How about a whole day?

Target: 1400 words
Written: 1797 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Magic Kingdom For Sale - Sold!, Terry Brooks
Comics: Battlestone 1, Bloodstrike 16, Team Youngblood 15, Youngblood Strikefile 8
Music: White Trash, Two Heebs And A Bean, NOFX (hey, I don't name 'em)