A personal diary keeping people abreast of what I am working on writing-wise.

Saturday, October 04, 2008

"In the clearing stands a boxer, and a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders of every glove that laid him down or cut him
til he cried out in his anger and his shame
I am leaving, I am leaving, but the fighter still remains
Yes, he still remains

Joëlle posted this to her blog, so I'm going to yank it for mine, too.

She just completed pages this week for our third Popgun story, "The Jailhouse Swing." I know it's going to get old if I'm constantly saying her new work is the best thing she's ever done...

"jailhouse swing" pg3

...but this is the best thing she's ever done.

I've been waiting to see her draw this story for a while, and the final results exceed my expectations. "The Jailhouse Swing" was originally intended to be our first Popgun story, but a variety of factors kept pushing it back. I wrote it in April of 2007, and it began in one of those moments of shower inspiration, where the first page came to me so vividly, I had to get out and quickly thumbnail it so I'd stop going over it in my head. The rest tumbled along immediately after.

Almost a year ago now, at last fall's Stumptown, we asked Laura Allred to consider coloring the story, and she agreed. She's still on board, which has us both very stoked. (Special thanks also to Keith Wood for doing the complicated scans for us.)

Not sure when Popgun vol. 3 is coming out. I think early next year. Now you're going to have to wait.

* * *

I'm not that often impressed by the weirdness of my dreams anymore, but last night, my brain cooked up some special ideas. First, I was in the new James Bond movie playing James Bond, and there was some snafu dropping me out of a helicopter to catch a connecting flight at an airport, and not only had my next plane been put out of commission but my enemies were aware I was there. I had to go through the flight terminal like it was a videogame, avoiding or shooting the heavily armed bad guys while managing not to shoot the heavily armed people on my side. Which included comics writer Brian Bendis.

Brian and I ended up taking root in some seats with my family. The whole airport was jammed, a lot of flights canceled. Now, me running around with guns, that didn't seem all that special to me, though I did find it funny I was James Bond. No, what my subconscious concocted that impressed me was what happened next.

While we were sitting there, a group of black Scottish terriers came wiggling by, escorted by a couple of nuns. As it turns out, these dogs were a canine ballet troupe, and they all had the criss-cross binding of ballet slippers wrapped around their shins (though no slippers). One dog in particular seemed to take a liking to me, though I was kind of confused by how he was nipping at me and the strange noises he was making. One of the nuns (or maybe my sister, I'm not sure--a sister of some kind, I guess) said, "You'll make an interesting couple. He's deaf, you know." Ah! The weird noises made sense, he couldn't hear his own barks.

I don't know what a doggy ballet means symbolically, nor do I understand why I chose to make the friendly dog deaf, but if there was such a show in real life, I'd go see it. The swans in Swan Lake better watch their backs!

Current Soundtrack: The Orb, The Orb's Adventures Beyond The Ultraworld [Disc 2]

Current Mood:

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All text (c) 2008 Jamie S. Rich

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