Original Art Sundays No. 296: Sharp Invitations: Curt, p. 34

 Hi, all. Here we go with the next page.

Last time we saw our heroine (me), she was in the tub, high on booze and prescription meds and bleeding out of her cut wrist.

Here's what happened next.

It's often something mundane that stops these attempts. I read a writer's account of their own attempt (I'm embarrassed to say I can't recall whose). They were all ready to do it, to end their lives, staring at the gun, when they got a casual call from a friend who was unaware of the crisis, inviting them to a ball game. They went but never told the friend what that friend had done for them. 

One little thing. That's all it takes sometimes.

In my case, someone else's phone rang. I went on automatic pilot to answer the phone. Can't be rude, you know.

This page also serves as a reminder of some of the small and not so small things that drove me to the attempt in the first place. Curt not trusting me to do something as simple as carrying on a phone call, me being so afraid of his reaction to anything I was doing.

Technical aspects: we're back to a pretty standard grid this week. Just advancing the narrative panel by panel. I'm in every panel, but not full face shot until the last panel, my shocked reaction to his return home. 

Nothing overtly about trans identity on this page, but it's one of the core elements of the story, so its presence or absence must needs be noted.

I'm back to rendering background textures in wash and grease pencil. It seems to serve me well as my style continues to evolve. There's a little #2 pencil texture on the tub surface. I continue to grow my relationship to backgrounds/environments, following Ursula Murray Husted's encouragement to think of the environment as a character. I balance that against a line that sticks with me from David Chelsea's Perspective for Comic Book Artists, in which one of his characters describes the function of perspective not as mechanical accuracy, but as a desire to "make things more or less plausible." Think about it. Realistic mechanical rendering isn't always necessary or desirable, in that it doesn't always serve the story. And one should always do what serves the story. It doesn't have to look precise, but it does have to look real, in the context of the story.

The last panel really got away from me in early attempts! The first inked version had a distorted, elongated face with a mouth one might find on a blow-up doll. So back to tracing paper, whiteout, and re-rendering. The final panel was still messy. I cleaned it up in Photoshop, then put some of the mess back for effect. I might do just a bit more correction on this before going to press, but it's pretty much there. It was fun drawing a body just out of the tub and not toweled off. Those little drippy effects are exciting to play with.

Tools for this page:

• Canson Bristol Board
• Pencils: 2B Ticonderoga, Lead holder and 3B lead, 4B graphite stick
• Erasers: Steadler Mars plastic eraser, kneadable eraser
  
• Dr. Martin's Black Star Matte Ink
• FW Artist's Acrylic White
• Plastic painting palette for washes
  
• Tight Spot brush for corrections
• Pen nib and holder
• Brushes: Blick No. 6 round synthetic, Reeves No. 8 nylon flat for washes
• Photoshop

Next: will Curt be sympathetic and supportive? What do you think?

Original Art Sundays (Tuesday) No. 236: The Last Sharp Invitiation (Curt), p. 1

A bit late posting this week, due to exhaustion. But we are back in the saddle again!
I've decided to jump to one of the last stories in the book and then double back to the rest. This is a very important story (not that the rest aren't), and I want to develop it farther than it made it in the rough draft.

This page should set the tone for this story. I happened on this piece in an old sketchbook, and immediately realized that it was the perfect splash for this story.
This story brings many of the problems encountered by some (certainly not all) trans women in relationship into focus. The key, as you'll see as the story evolves, is self-worth, deciding we deserve decent love.
This page is rendered in pencil, with minimal clean-up. In talking with my comic teaching peer Dr. Ursula Murray Husted at SpringCon last week, I was pleasantly surprised at how much she liked my tighter pencil pages. While my inking skills are constantly improving (and more so when I work on a regular schedule!), I've always obtained great satisfaction from good tight pencils, or as in the original Sharp Invitation story, pencils with Conte' crayon. The problem is that I like working on Bristol board, and it lacks sufficient tooth to get the textures I like in resolved pencils. As such, I suspect the final version of this story will be a pastiche of pencils and inks. The very last page of it will be a B & W photograph- good old 35MM film!
The gentleness of this image serves as marked contrast to what follows, and is typical of my idealizing people with whom I'm in relationship (nobody else does that, right?).
My summer schedule being lighter, I have more time to develop this work before my next deadline, the fall faculty show. I'm wrestling with doing a more complete printed version for that show as well. Since I'm lettering digitally, I also have to resolve some presentation issues. Possibilities include originals presented next to printed pages, or printing original-sized copies and posting those. There's something disingenuous about posting printouts in shows, though I did it at Intermedia Arts and nobody said boo.
Another issue that came up in printing the draft version was that the images fit to the InDesign pages were VERY tight to the border! I'll have to tweak that before going back to press, even for a short run of one or two.
But the immediate goal remains a more realized version of this story. I also have another of those one-page quickies in the hopper, one I just thought of earlier today.
Next: more Curt.

Best Comics of 2011: no. 13: The Lions of Valletta

It's risky to criticize the work of friends. Years ago, Katherine Collins reviewed my first comic. While she praised the writing, she called the art "alarmingly bad." After losing my ego, I took her criticisms to heart and improved my art.
Luckily, I have no such criticism for the thoughtful, playful, strong yet sensitive work of Ursula Murray Husted.
I've been following her work for several years, and had the pleasure of working with her for a couple summer sessions. Even if I'd never made her acquaintance, the joy and bravery in her work would shine through.
Making its debut at MIX 2011, The Lions of Valletta is a preview edition of Part I of Ursula's longer work, the adventures of a Maltese cat (that is, a cat whose home is on Malta).

As with Sailor Twain, the simple line is based in confidence and the  art is in service to the story.
The dialogue of the cats rings true and dominates. For the last 40 pages of the book, all the dialogue is between cats.
As it should be. We love cats.
Without spoilers, the plot concerns a young cat who is determined to find the Good Lady, the human with whom life will be full of food, comfort and love. As the cat's acquaintance notes, aren't we all?
Ursula uses the simple story as a framework to explore visual devices including pages based on tapestries and paintings, to wind through the streets. There's a sense of the real to this that shines.

This work is smart, involving and succeeds in being optimistic without being cloying. Ursula is toying with the idea of doing the work in color. While I like her bright yet controlled palette, I think the B & W is quite effective in this work. Here's an example from this volume, recently colored, from Ursula's blog.

Whatever her decision, I'm sure it will be the correct one. This is the fourth book I've read of Ursula's (fifth if you count her Kickstarter project, well worth checking out as well), and her work has yet to disappoint in any respect.
If you do follow up and pick up The Lions of Valletta,  do yourself a favor and read the smart, witty Notes section in the last four pages of the book. They include such gems as "the academic in me wants to write a bit about cats and nihilism here, but what's the use?"

What is this Kickstarter monster and will it ravage the village?

According to this article, the newest publisher of independent comics is everybody, through a central clearing house for funding.

Kickstarter is a great idea.
I've known a few people who have successfully run one- Greg Ruth, Ursula Murray Husted, Zak Sally, Neil Gaiman (a bit of a conceit on my part- we've met a half dozen times, had a few chats, so I can say I know Neil, but I'm skeptical he'd remember me).
I've been batting the idea around for a while now, trying to decide just what to fund. I think my best bet's a comic book, though there are other possibilities- an illustrated version of my screenplay? A series of handbound books? An "absolute edition" of my Mother's paintings, which I've been collecting in book form for the past 6 years?
Whatever my decision, it will be a response to the phenomenon of crowfunding, or funding by a crowd.
Other venues offer similar: IndieGoGo began as a way to fund music projects, but has branched into other enterprises, including comics. Their business model differs slightly from Kickstarter. They keep 4% (as opposed to KS's 5%), and allow the solicitor to offer premiums or tax writeoffs, which strikes me as a bit dicey.
Then there's Quirky, which is devoted to funding inventions.
The good: more projects are getting out there. You don't need an external publisher or startup funding to print a comic. This is a variation on Scott McCloud's idea of microfunding comics, put forth in his Reinventing Comics.
The downside of the good: we all need editors at times, especially when we're honing our craft AND when we've reached a pinnacle of success. As pointed out in a recent discussion with screenwriter Tom Pope, the risk at the high end is that you start to believe your own PR, and nobody wants to say no to you. So while the self-publishing model is tempting and useful, it should not be the only thing you have going.
More good: the funding is improving. About half a year ago, roughly 40% of Kickstarter projects were fully funded (it's all or nothing funding on these sites, remember). Today the figure is slightly over 50%.
The skeptical response to that good: more small projects are being funded, which means if you have a BIG IDEA, your odds are lower, unless you have a name attached. See the aforementioned Gaiman-related project, an animated feature based on one of his stories.
This begs a larger point. These sites are open to everyone. That's fine, but it chafes me a bit when established creators put their projects on them. Oh, they're entitled, and I know that recognition and some success does not give one carte blanche. But I'd like to see something devoted solely to up-and-coming creators. I don't know what criteria could be used for that, or how that would be vetted, but I could see some utility in having a work totally stand on its own merits. Hm- possibly a crowfunding site that gives funds to projects whose creators are not named?
On the other hand, if this option existed in the 1970s, perhaps Orson Welles would not have to shill in commercials to fund his films.





After all, Jess Franco is using crowfunding to finance his next film.
Another problem in relation to this funding is the mandate for offering premiums at different levels. That can cause as many problems as it solves if the premiums are not up to snuff. Also, the creator is responsible for the creation and strategies of ancillary promotions before the project even begins. 
I hope my skepticism on this process is unfounded. I'd like crowfunding to be a benefit to most. I don't think it's practical that it benefits all. Some projects need to go unfunded- this is also a form of editing, albeit a populist one.
But whatever my project turns out to be, you can bet that it's going to be great and deserving of funding!