Page 4

I still have to put some start in the night sky, but I think I’ll do that with the whole issue once it’s done.

Page Trois

I think “trois” is French (or something) for three. I’m a typical American – not too informed (or particularly interested) about other countries.

click to enlarge

Back to Normal

I can finally get back to my usual routine.

See, last week (actually, about the last two weeks) was crazy.  I had parent/teacher conferences, then a party (which I never go to anymore), then The Wife’s party (which no one came to because the roads were so bad), then I had to go to the doctor for a day, then I had a conference I had to attend, then people came over who wanted to make up for not attending The Wife’s party… basically, I’ve been busy not inking.

See, I try to make the most out of every day – not, of course, in the traditional sense where I feel like I’m alive at every moment – but in the sense that I try to get the most done that I possibly can.  The best way to do this is to have a schedule.  Here it is on a weekly basis:

Weekends: Ink all day unless something else has come up (everything else is a priority).

The only show where I have NO IDEA what's going to happen.

Pay attention to the quick throwaway jokes. Those are the best.

Weekdays: Go to work, ink until The Wife gets home, work out, eat dinner, and ink until I go to bed with the occasional television intermission (I stop working for 24, Lost, The Office, and 30 Rock).  During the summer I ink all day, when The Wife gets home I spend all my time with her, and then when she goes to bed, I ink until I get tired.

The last week (actually, about the last two weeks) has thrown that off.

Hopefully I can get back to filling every day with accomplishment.  Or at least with a satisfaction that I appeared to be accomplishing something.

Much like this post.

Page Two Complete

I think it’s a little dark, but then again, it’s supposed to be night time:

My Gen’ration

I wonder what it is about my generation and not procreating? I never really noticed it much until last weekend.

I went with a few friends from school to the Dr. Seuss exhibit in East Lansing.  Being that I’m always on time (usually to the tick.  Ask any of my bosses about it.  It was always the one good and bad thing about me), I was the first one there.  After a few minutes people started showing up; they’re all around 30 and not one has any inkling about having kids. 

Watch out, Poland!

 

On a side-note, I would like to say the Dr. Seuss’ career is exhilarating to look at.  Did you know that Yertle the Turtle is actually about Nazi Germany? Or that Horton Hears a Who is about white-on-black racism?  Did you also know that he never really got his big break until well into his 50s?  Sort of makes me feel better about Tiny Life.

 

Eventually, there was about a dozen of us there.  We hung out until around midnight and the subject of children barely came up (early in the evening, one of the teachers was trying to explain to one of the non-teachers why these particular people were out.  He said that there’s a good 15-year gap between us and the older teachers and that was why no older teacher was there.  I said it’s because we don’t have any kids and he started to go off on a rant about “breeders vs. non-breeders”).  Whenever I remember going to see my parents’ friends – that was all they talked about.  Even now, when I see the two people I know with kids, the only subject of conversation is “children: how they’re great and how they’re not and how ‘you’ll change your mind when you have one’.”

You might see an angel. All I see is drool. And drool is gross.

I wonder what it is with people born in the very late 70s or very early 80s; very few of us really want kids.  Maybe we’re super-selfish.  Maybe we want to do something more with our lives than look after a tiny clone.  Maybe we, unlike most other generations, know that we don’t have all the answers (which is one of two reason people seem to have kids.  The other one is that people need meaning and/or direction in their lives and children provide that).  Maybe we’re just super environmentally friendly and creating a life takes up a lot of the earth’s resources. 

Or maybe we just don’t understand the concept of growing up.

Frankly, it wouldn’t bother me either way.  I think if I had a kid it would be fun and amazing.  But I think if I didn’t have a kid, I wouldn’t mind spending the rest of my life knowing I would never have to worry about a thing.  

Page 1 Done (almost)

I still think I should change the second panel. For some reason, the one that Colacitti had didn’t seem quite right.

Plus, for whatever reason, the first panel – after I inked it – looks like mountains.

…Or is This Page 20?

I gotta start keeping track of these things.

Looks good though, eh?

“Issue 1″ Cover

 

 

I think it looks silly because there's no "corner box."

Here’s the “cover” for the first chapter of left.

“Cover” is in quotes because it’s not really much of a cover. 

For most comics, the cover is what the majority of the people see.  It’s the first thing that people look at when they pick it up, it’s what makes a lot of people first purchase a book, and even years later when you look through all your old comics doing some random spring cleaning, it’s the cover you see that brings back those memories.  But for Tiny Life, a cover is different.

Tiny Life is a serialized novel.  We don’t make individual issues and sell them in specialty stores.  We make books and sell them in any store that will have us.  This means that each chapter cover – like the one you see here – is only viewed by a few fans (like you) who come to the site or subscribe to the podcasts or buy the drafts.  For Tiny Life, the cover is actually the thing that is seen the least.

And I gotta say, I’m not super-excited about the layout of the title, issue number, price, and company logo.  Something about it just screams “independent/amateur.”  

1st Convention

I am both excited and apprehensive about my first convention. 

The actual word for it is “anxious,” but no one uses that word like it’s meant to be used anymore (if you’re “anxious” about her birthday party, you’re saying that you’re “full of angst or anxiety.”  You probably mean that you’re “excited, but that’s not the right word.”  One of the many useful idiocies you learn from being an English major). 

I’m not what you’d call a “people person.”   I mean, being a teacher, I have some likeability when I want to turn it on, but it’s only available to me at certain times – usually not weekends. 

On weekends I get to relax and be a jerk just like everyone else.  When someone cuts in front of me in line on a weekday, being my likeable teacher-self, I half-heartedly point out a few flaws in the guy’s judgment so that he learns something, smiles a bit, and doesn’t feel bad about himself.  On a weekend, I would say something along the lines of, “Hey, this isn’t the line to hump your mom.  You don’t get ‘cut-sees,’ jack-ass.” 

I also have a hard time talking about myself.

I take that back.  I have a hard time bragging about myself.  I can probably tell you all sorts of stories about how I turn classrooms of children against certain noisy indicuals; I can tell you many a story about my extended family and how I wish they would one day get it together enough to not sell food stamps; I can talk endlessly about how my heart condition has affected my life philosophy.  I cannot, however, talk about how great my idea is or how “you’ll just love it!” 

Now, don’t get me wrong, I personally think Tiny Life is the best thing around.  But I can’t tell you that you’d like it.  All I can really say for sure is that I’ve done my best with it.

That and I have better art now than I did when I started:

Early drawing of Jed		Recent drawing of Jed

Page 20(?)

Here is Colacitti’s fantastic version of my mediocre script: