Category: Daily

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Cutting My Comics Teeth

Below is my effort to mimic a comic book. I’ve not written this but paraphrased from an actual comic book. I’m looking to reproduce the feel in my head not to pass this off as my own work.

The motivation for this piece is about ten years of reading comics and the newest version of Celtx. They added a comic book template.

Page 1

Panel 1 Outside a high-rise club in downtown Tokyo

SIDEKICK
Think she’ll bite?

Panel 2 Inside same club; well dressed patrons of all cultures
dance in the background; Sidekick and HERO sit at a
table for two in the fore.

HERO
There are only two ways for this to go. We’ll know
soon enough.

SIDEKICK
Whatever. I’m just killing time here.

Panel 3 Our hero is displeased.

HERO
I didn’t ask you here and I don’t need you.

Page 2

Panel 1 Our Sidekick is undaunted; bubbly in fact.

SIDEKICK
And miss this banter? Clearly you’re a powerhouse
in this scene. How’d you solo this far up the
ladder?

Panel 2 Reverse on our convo from the dance floor

HERO
How do you know I soloed this far?

SIDEKICK
Not sure. You’ve got a loner vibe. As for me it
was time I got my game on. No one else looking out
for Sidekick.

Panel 3 On our hero again

HERO
This scene stands for more than your selfishness,
Sidekick.

Panel 4 Over our hero’s shoulder on angry Sidekick.

SIDEKICK
Pft! Climb down from your castle some time to see
how the rest of us live. We’re scrounging for
position down here and it not getting better, it’s
getting worse. I’m not getting screwed over!

HERO
This scene is about defending the people. It’s
been that way along time. Time erodes our
culture…

Panel 5 Hero’s eyes

HERO
…unless we remember what it stands for.

Word count: 260
Day 242

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Disconnectivity is Probably Not a Word

Ahead of any of the rest of this I should thank those of you that read 1000 Days.  I appreciate the lot of you silent as you are about your participation.  Also, a big shoutout to you robots combing the Internet for RSS feeds: thanks for stopping by.

The theme of concern resolving from those that do provide me feedback is that I don’t present a cohesive thread of any kind.  Each day is new.  Each day is disconnected from most of the days before it.  Each day is a start with no middle or end.

I agree.  And I dislike the disconnectivity as much as you.  For anyone previously tentative about coming forward with criticisms of 1000 Days, let that admission alay any fears of authorial retaliation.  I’m OK with external criticism of my work in part or whole.  LEt’s not let that be the crack that breaks the dam and looses relentless volumes of bashing though—I’m no masochist.  Alone in a vaccum with just pen and paper erodes my creativity and quality.

Starting next week I’ll be organizing each week by a theme.  All seven—usually just five—will pivot on a core idea.  I may announce that idea ahead of time; I may not.  That pivot may come in the form of a straight forward story of sorts or it may simply be a bunch of stories about socks, or knives, or the wind, or greed.  In any case a theme.

In the spirit of collaboration—but not too much (maybe 99:1)—I’ll solicit themes in the comments below.

Word count: 260
Day 241

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Shut Up With Your Fluffy Bunnies and Sunshine

Some areas of the Internet—the blogosphere at least—brim with cheer. Like formerly downward Christians back from a fresh revival they wipe inspired sweat from their brows and proselytize their message. Drunk on their own success they upliftingly decry a seemingly simple message of hope: do what you love. Or sometimes: follow your dream. There is just no way to be happy unless you do things that fill you with joy.

Well, no shit.

These people are grandparents that have forgotten the trials of parenthood. Trust funders raft-hopping in Thailand to get back to basics. Headlining pentagenarian rockers singing burnt-out-from-the-road lyrics—as if.

Listen up Internet cool-aid drinkers: I have a mortgage. I have a family. I have dogs and cats and a car loan. The bank, the grocery store, the vet, and the other bank don’t take bliss checks. They don’t even feign interest in my need for personal satisfaction and inner peace. They send me big envelopes with little envelopes inside. They don’t bother to pay for the return postage.

Yes, I got here on my own. I will get out on my own. I’ll get out by keeping my less than soul satisfying job and paying them off a little while longer. I’ve got practical debts and concrete needs. Those require satisfaction before I do.

I’ll defer my dreams, my passions, and my loves for later—maybe even for ever—so shut up with your fluffy bunnies and sunshine.

Word count: 245
Day 240