The difference between the Hero and the Bad Guy relief:
the hero is worried about other people, even if he’s hurt. The bad guy relief is only worried about his own reputation.
This is really the first time I started banging up the Peach. It gets worse, especially in the horrifying and rather nasty — but hilarious — Issue 19, Self-Propelled Target. I’m so far ahead on processing books for the store, I’ll be putting together the Ka-Blam files for issues 19-21 in December.
Um… more fun with simple themes.
It’s hard to write notes about my work; it’s either on the page or it isn’t. I know lots of my readers figure out all kinds of things I never thought of adding or to which I never thought of a connection. But that’s because I have very well-informed, highly-educated and quite fearless readers.
No, I’m not flattering any of you. Learn to take a compliment already!
This was about fun figure drawing.
Standing up there like that, sooner or later even the Invincible Madman was going to get hit. Not necessarily targeted and hit. Crazy people are hard to hit, by anything.
The Peach is lucky he didn’t break his neck when he fell. A bit of the drug left?
This is the first time we get to see Rommel’s face in the series.
Early on, like many young artists, I wasn’t that knowledgeable about using real people’s faces, so I found ways to hide this famous face.
It was fun drawing the Peach stinzing out. Yes, that’s a verb phrase one of my reader’s invented, based on my other character, Stinz. He could get so very angry.
Have not been keeping ahead of my blogs; need to get back to work on that!
Yeah, yeah, this is me showing a bunch of straight guys queening — but they all can, can’t they? Give any guy some booze and get him in the mood, and he can swish with the best of ‘em. Humphrey Bogard was known for getting swishy in bars.
Not all gay guys can queen or swish. It’s probably the Bruno syndrome: this is how straight guys imagine gay folk act all the time. They’re in terror that the gay guy will jump them the same way they themselves would jump a girl. It’s a pure case of projection.
This is especially rampant in the — ahem — lower classes. Check out The Virgin Project for stories about how guys without an education view women: “If they’re old enough to bleed, they’re old enough.” The girls’ or women’s opinion is never taken into consideration. These guys think women were put there for them to screw; their religion backs them up on that.
OMG, CBC radio just pointed out it’s almost the end of the decade.
Of course it is. Lordy, remember when we were all calculating how old we’d be in Y2K? Now we sound like our great grandparents, talking all ‘oh this and ‘oh that.
I keep trying to come up with things to say about my art and writing, but I just don’t have anything to teach except: do what you get off on. It’s the only thing that will make things work. You can’t write a series unless you’re totally into it. Or you can’t do it well. If you’re not having fun, you might as well work for a corporation. You’ll probably get paid better, or at least as well.
I don’t have anything new to say ABOUT writing. I just do it. I know, it sounds like a cop-out, but I don’t think about it.
Two stories in the latest AFTERDEAD were insisting on running together so I simply took all the pages and shuffled them into places that looked right. So THERE.
I’m like a month ahead of time on these blogs. To prove it, this is Hallowe’en. Whoa, the sun is out!
Any of my readers will agree that most of my plots are avalanches. They start with a little noise, gain momentum, and then smack into themselves at the bottom of the mountain.
I don’t WANT books that begin with a crash. After that, it’s all downhill. Or flat on the bottom of the glacier valley.
I’ve been there. I’ve seen how one person in an organization can cause the entire thing to start whipping around its own center in screaming circles. Anything can be an excuse for us going off the collective deep end, picking up sticks and shrieking like rain-struck chimps, working ourselves up into tunnel-visioned hysteria over nothing.
You can argue against evolution all you want, but if you don’t believe you’re a monkey you either don’t own a mirror or you live in a small room all by yourself. And if you’re not beating your forearms against the walls, tell it to the Marines.
I really can’t say much about this page except it’s about how much fun it was to draw the Peach as a raving monster.
In the old plague war Barr Wars, at one point Icelandic cartoonist Kjartan Arnorsson and I hit each other’s characters with Ugly Sticks, and the results were ungodly fun to draw. I know he was laughing as hard drawing his as I was drawing mine.
Ooh, ooh! AFTERDEAD issue with EVERYBODY hit with ugly sticks? An ugly gate? I dunno, anything that will let me draw them like that again.
Ain’t it the truth? The hard guy too often has a squishy center, something that makes him sensitive in a lot of ways, not always good ones. Winzig’s just lucky to have good examples in the rest of his basically decent family, as you will discover. You’ll also be discovering in issue 17 why he hates being thought of as cultured and sensitive. No, he is.
I’m writing this on October 2009. The last of the ghost girl tales is up at Deviantart.
Listening to idiot ghostly records on Record Bin Roulette. I love those guys. You never know what the spook they’re going to come up with.
