One of the things I love about superhero comics is the ‘anything goes’ nature of the genre; you can have spacemen, cowboys and wizards on the same team, and no one bats an eye. The superhero book has evolved over time in a somewhat haphazard fashion, with writers and artists grabbing ideas from every possible source as they desperately search for a new gag to make their latest deadline. But we in the modern age have the luxury of looking back over all that has come before, able to pick and choose those elements that appeal to us when we steal for our own books.
I’ve loved science fiction in all its forms since I was little, though it was of course Star Wars that really blew my mind and made me want to find out how movies worked, a passion that eventually drove me to attend film school many years later. The late 70s and early 80s was a great time to be a kid; every week some amazing movie, TV show or book came out, and you got some really great birthday and Christmas gifts. I got two wonderful glossy softback books as a young nerd that would shape my concept of what science fiction could be: Di Fate’s Catalog of Science Fiction Hardware and Barlowe’s Guide to Extraterrestrials. These two tomes were my constant companions during my junior high years, devoured and abused until their perfect-bound pages started to fall out. Di Fate’s book is a tour of some of the coolest weapons and technology ever featured in SF novels, with vivid paintings and crude but effective diagrams and blueprints, covering the works of Saberhagen, Wells, EE ‘Doc’ Smith, Heinlein and a host of other classic authors. But as cool as that book was, Barlowe’s Guide was even cooler.
Drawing on much of the same pool of brilliant writers and fantasists that Di Fate had, Wayne Douglas Barlowe produced a marvelous catalog of alien races that he illustrated with almost photorealistic detail. I hadn’t read a lot of classic SF at that time, but I would encounter several of these entities years later, and it would be Barlowe’s take on the character I would recall. What really made an impression on me was just how damned alien some of these creatures really were, with all kinds of crazy tentacles, pseudopods and crystalline structures in their bodies. But the aliens we encounter in pop SF like Star Wars and Star Trek tend to be of the ‘bumpy forehead’ school, for the obvious reason that they are meant to be played by humans, but even in the world of comic books, where anything’s possible, most aliens still look a lot like us. Kryptonians, Skrulls, the Shi’ar and many other races often have great concepts and designs, but still come off as just humans with cool powers.*
I decided to stick with a small number of races, three of them allied with humans and a fourth that is as sinister as it is mysterious; partly I did this to keep my job simple, but I also wanted to give the universe a sense of scale. The Milky Way galaxy is truly vast, and we live in only one small corner of it; there may be many more races out there, but will we ever live to see them?
Starting next post, I will introduce you to the other members of the ‘Alliance of the Great Wing’, the Orthi, the Lhan-Gar and the Nameless!
“Fight the Light!”
* Another source of wonderfully alien aliens is White Wolf’s late lamented roleplaying game Trinity, which I personally feel is the best science fiction game to date (sorry Traveller!)
Monday, November 30, 2009
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Do You Believe In Magic?
I love magic. I love stage magic, I love folklore and mythology, and I love roleplaying games and all things nerdy. I grew up in the 70s, watching TV shows like Kolchak: The Night Stalker and Bill Bixby's The Magician and flipping through issues of Creepy, Eerie and Vampirella at the newstand in Montgomery Wards. For these reasons and more, I decided I wanted magic in my comic book, but I have to admit another big reason was, oddly enough, logic. Well, kind of logic.
I knew very early on that the main character was a shapeshifter, since identity is one of the primary themes of the book. But shapeshifters in comics have always been a bit problematic, especially in books where the powers are supposed to have a 'believable' source, something like the ubiquitous mutation paradigm. Where trouble starts is when you try to use a scientific explanation for something that's clearly impossible. How would you change your race, age or gender? Where did those new clothes come from? What happened to the purse she was carrying? Some writers have tried to dance around this by talking about 'muscle control' and whatnot, imposing limits to the ability to make it seem realistic, but I knew I didn't want to limit Grim's ability to move fluidily through the various strata of society, since again this is something I saw as a signiture of the character, the ability to effortlessly navigate a world as complex as our own. Early versions of the character concept were mutant based, but somehow it didn't seem elegant enough.
Then I thought back to two of my favorite fantasy authors, namely Jack Vance and L. Frank Baum; in Vance's Lyonesse trilogy and Baum's Oz books, magic is both mundane and mysterious, as much a part of everyday life as sex and tooth decay. A similar approach was used by Neil Gaiman and Matt Wagner in their comics, and I love the way these two artists handle the mystical world. The world operates much as it normally does, but to those who wield magic, there's a hidden world that lies just below the surface.
So I decided that Grim would be a magical entity (as to exactly what kind, you'll have to wait and see!); this is not some sort of 'a wizard did it' cop-out (well maybe just a little), but a way of opening up a whole new sort of storytelling. Grim may walk in the brightly-colored world of superheroes, but one foot is always firmly planted in the shadowy world of monsters and myth. Horror, mythology and whimsy will have as much a place in my comic as capes, fists and lasers.
And aliens...
Next time: "Did he say 'aliens'?"
I knew very early on that the main character was a shapeshifter, since identity is one of the primary themes of the book. But shapeshifters in comics have always been a bit problematic, especially in books where the powers are supposed to have a 'believable' source, something like the ubiquitous mutation paradigm. Where trouble starts is when you try to use a scientific explanation for something that's clearly impossible. How would you change your race, age or gender? Where did those new clothes come from? What happened to the purse she was carrying? Some writers have tried to dance around this by talking about 'muscle control' and whatnot, imposing limits to the ability to make it seem realistic, but I knew I didn't want to limit Grim's ability to move fluidily through the various strata of society, since again this is something I saw as a signiture of the character, the ability to effortlessly navigate a world as complex as our own. Early versions of the character concept were mutant based, but somehow it didn't seem elegant enough.
Then I thought back to two of my favorite fantasy authors, namely Jack Vance and L. Frank Baum; in Vance's Lyonesse trilogy and Baum's Oz books, magic is both mundane and mysterious, as much a part of everyday life as sex and tooth decay. A similar approach was used by Neil Gaiman and Matt Wagner in their comics, and I love the way these two artists handle the mystical world. The world operates much as it normally does, but to those who wield magic, there's a hidden world that lies just below the surface.
So I decided that Grim would be a magical entity (as to exactly what kind, you'll have to wait and see!); this is not some sort of 'a wizard did it' cop-out (well maybe just a little), but a way of opening up a whole new sort of storytelling. Grim may walk in the brightly-colored world of superheroes, but one foot is always firmly planted in the shadowy world of monsters and myth. Horror, mythology and whimsy will have as much a place in my comic as capes, fists and lasers.
And aliens...
Next time: "Did he say 'aliens'?"
Thursday, November 19, 2009
"I love it when I don't die." - The origins of Grimalkin
The character of Grimalkin, or some version of her, has haunted me for several years. I have long been troubled by the fact that in comic books the bad guys tend to get the cooler powers, or at least the ones I dig the most. It's an old maxim that villains tend to me interesting than heroes, largely because the heroes tend to be both safe and conservative, typically maintaining the status quo and protecting the world from danger or change. Of course, you do see the 'freedom fighter' type from time to time, but usually they are struggling to bring down oppressive states, not fighting crime in the streets.
Since I was a kid, I've loved shysters, schemers and con men; I'm not sure why, but it may well reflect badly on my moral fiber. Characters who live by their wits, either good or bad, have made me smile and wriggle with delight. This type is very common in old faerie tales like Puss 'n' Boots and the Three Billy Goats Gruff (two of my favorites), where roguish underdogs defeat a superior foe using only the words from their mouths.
As I got older and started to develop more of a moral compass, my love for this type never waned, but I started to get into characters who used the power of deception for good, especially characters like James Garner's Jim Rockford, a former conman turned private eye. Rockford also got his ass kicked from time to time, further cementing his underdog status. And maybe that's when it started; as a kid, I was a milk-faced imaginative runt with arms like swizzle sticks, so the thought of bringing down a guy twice my size using the few tools I possessed, namely a quick wit and a large vocabulary, really struck a chord.
So back to superheroes. By and large, in the comic books the heroes are straight shooters, though there are of course exceptions; Superman is called the Big Blue Boy Scout for a reason, but Batman has effectively used smoke bombs and disguises in his single-minded war on crime. However most of the times, the deceivers are people like Mysterio, Mystique and Mastermind, manipulative basterds who think only of themselves.
So the 'ex-criminal deceiver done good' is a very cool concept to me, and this was a big part of the drive to create Lil' Grimmie; take a superpower normally associated with bad guys (shapeshifting), give it to a young woman struggling to make it on her own, add some attitude and a somewhat tragic past ("Oh the poor thing!") and you have the basics of a fun character that hopefully the world will love.
We shall see!
Since I was a kid, I've loved shysters, schemers and con men; I'm not sure why, but it may well reflect badly on my moral fiber. Characters who live by their wits, either good or bad, have made me smile and wriggle with delight. This type is very common in old faerie tales like Puss 'n' Boots and the Three Billy Goats Gruff (two of my favorites), where roguish underdogs defeat a superior foe using only the words from their mouths.
As I got older and started to develop more of a moral compass, my love for this type never waned, but I started to get into characters who used the power of deception for good, especially characters like James Garner's Jim Rockford, a former conman turned private eye. Rockford also got his ass kicked from time to time, further cementing his underdog status. And maybe that's when it started; as a kid, I was a milk-faced imaginative runt with arms like swizzle sticks, so the thought of bringing down a guy twice my size using the few tools I possessed, namely a quick wit and a large vocabulary, really struck a chord.
So back to superheroes. By and large, in the comic books the heroes are straight shooters, though there are of course exceptions; Superman is called the Big Blue Boy Scout for a reason, but Batman has effectively used smoke bombs and disguises in his single-minded war on crime. However most of the times, the deceivers are people like Mysterio, Mystique and Mastermind, manipulative basterds who think only of themselves.
So the 'ex-criminal deceiver done good' is a very cool concept to me, and this was a big part of the drive to create Lil' Grimmie; take a superpower normally associated with bad guys (shapeshifting), give it to a young woman struggling to make it on her own, add some attitude and a somewhat tragic past ("Oh the poor thing!") and you have the basics of a fun character that hopefully the world will love.
We shall see!
Welcome to Lake City, 'Home of Heroes!'
I wanted to go with a made-up city as Grim’s base of operations for a number of reasons. For starters, you can go nuts and say the mayor is Satan, the streets are filled with hookers and dope fiends, and all the kids have rickets, and not piss anyone off. Well, you can still piss them off, but it might reduce the number of angry emails a bit, and anything that does that is a good thing. You also get to have fun making up street names, buildings and sports teams (“Go Cleavers!”), and go to town with homages and in-jokes to show how clever you are (wink wink, nudge nudge).
But the best part about making up a comic book city is the chance to use it to say something about the characters themselves. Why have they chosen to defend this city, and not someplace else? Why does this town need these heroes, or does it at all? How does the town affect and reflect the heroes, and vice versa? And what if there was a city that is forever associated with superheroes, that is considered the birthplace of the world’s greatest superteam, but has lost its luster and lost its way?
For my setting, I came up with Lake City, a post-industrial Midwestern town set upon one of the Great Lakes. I wanted a town that felt like my native Chicago, but was a bit smaller and had a sort of shabby faded glory to it. I liked the idea of a city that peaked during the late 50s/early 60s (comics’ Silver Age), but has struggled to maintain that sense of wonder. Lake City is neither as dark as Batman’s Gotham City nor as hopeful as Superman’s Metropolis, but falls somewhere in-between, a city that remembers its own greatness but can’t quite recall where the time’s gone. I wanted my city to have parallels with Milwaukee, Pittsburgh and Cleveland, three wonderful American cities that are often the butt of the nation’s jokes. A city of underdogs, of half-remembered dreams and missed opportunities, but with the heart of a champion, just waiting for the right moment to show the world how it’s done.
I love my little city.
But the best part about making up a comic book city is the chance to use it to say something about the characters themselves. Why have they chosen to defend this city, and not someplace else? Why does this town need these heroes, or does it at all? How does the town affect and reflect the heroes, and vice versa? And what if there was a city that is forever associated with superheroes, that is considered the birthplace of the world’s greatest superteam, but has lost its luster and lost its way?
For my setting, I came up with Lake City, a post-industrial Midwestern town set upon one of the Great Lakes. I wanted a town that felt like my native Chicago, but was a bit smaller and had a sort of shabby faded glory to it. I liked the idea of a city that peaked during the late 50s/early 60s (comics’ Silver Age), but has struggled to maintain that sense of wonder. Lake City is neither as dark as Batman’s Gotham City nor as hopeful as Superman’s Metropolis, but falls somewhere in-between, a city that remembers its own greatness but can’t quite recall where the time’s gone. I wanted my city to have parallels with Milwaukee, Pittsburgh and Cleveland, three wonderful American cities that are often the butt of the nation’s jokes. A city of underdogs, of half-remembered dreams and missed opportunities, but with the heart of a champion, just waiting for the right moment to show the world how it’s done.
I love my little city.
Friday, November 6, 2009
A New Begining!
So I haven’t done anything with this blog in over a year, so I’ve decided to use it to chronicle my adventures in comic book publishing, assuming said adventures ever actually begin.
The comic I’ve been working on oh-so-slowly for the last few years is entitled Grimalkin, and it’s mostly set in the fictional Midwestern ‘Rust Belt’ town of Lake City. It’s a superhero comic in general form, but all kinds of crazy stuff happens to the main characters, their loved ones, and the whole human race. The protagonist is Lynn Epstein (aka Grimalkin or just plain 'Grim'), a young woman who tries to navigate the hazy line between hero and criminal, going first one way, then the next, never quite knowing where she ‘fits’. Though it might be cliched to say so (and it is), I think we can all identify with that.
The comic explores a wide variety of themes, some light-hearted, some dead serious, including but not limited to the following: people with disabilities, nerd conventions, telepathy, time travel, prison life, Judaism, hockey, extraterrestrials, the War on Terror, celebrity cults, stage magic, criminal masterminds, children’s television, robot doubles and quality home furnishings. If I was to boil it down to its basic elements, I would say Grimalkin is based on two concepts: that the only thing that really separates a ‘good guy’ from a ‘bad guy’ is the choices he or she makes, and that being a good person is an active choice we all must make every day of our lives.
I will tell the sort of stories I would like to read, as I think really that’s the best a writer can do; I‘ve been working with talented SF-based artist Thom Chiaramonte on several character designs (sadly, he will not be available to work as the regular artist), and the results have always made me smile with nerdy delight. I hope to continue our collaboration, on this project and others, for years to come.
I don’t have an artistic partner yet, mostly because I’ve yet to generate a single completed script! I hope to rectify this over the course of the next few months, so that I will have written copies of the first three issues (Grim’s origin arc) completed by April 2010, so I can present them to publishers at the first Chicago Comic & Entertainment Expo.
So what have I been doing for the last three years? Two words (or one word in two parts): world-building! Creating an epic comic book universe out of whole cloth is not done overnight, my friends! No indeed! One has to make all sorts of choices, like how many super people are there? How did they get their powers? What does the rest of the world think about them? Are there aliens? Magic? Other dimensions? Almost every variation on these ideas has been explored, parodied and turned on its head by far more talented writers than myself going all the way back to 1939, when Superman made his heroic debut and the era of the superhero was born. You will literally go nuts if you try to make your world completely 100% original, for it cannot be done!
So what do you do? You make it personal, exploring the themes, characters and concepts that touch you in some way, that make you laugh, cry, or crave a sandwich. And then you take all of that and jam it into twenty-two monthly pages, and hope to God people like it. But if they don’t…well, we can’t all be rich, right?
Tune in next post for another exciting epsiode of Bob the Procrastinator!
The comic I’ve been working on oh-so-slowly for the last few years is entitled Grimalkin, and it’s mostly set in the fictional Midwestern ‘Rust Belt’ town of Lake City. It’s a superhero comic in general form, but all kinds of crazy stuff happens to the main characters, their loved ones, and the whole human race. The protagonist is Lynn Epstein (aka Grimalkin or just plain 'Grim'), a young woman who tries to navigate the hazy line between hero and criminal, going first one way, then the next, never quite knowing where she ‘fits’. Though it might be cliched to say so (and it is), I think we can all identify with that.
The comic explores a wide variety of themes, some light-hearted, some dead serious, including but not limited to the following: people with disabilities, nerd conventions, telepathy, time travel, prison life, Judaism, hockey, extraterrestrials, the War on Terror, celebrity cults, stage magic, criminal masterminds, children’s television, robot doubles and quality home furnishings. If I was to boil it down to its basic elements, I would say Grimalkin is based on two concepts: that the only thing that really separates a ‘good guy’ from a ‘bad guy’ is the choices he or she makes, and that being a good person is an active choice we all must make every day of our lives.
I will tell the sort of stories I would like to read, as I think really that’s the best a writer can do; I‘ve been working with talented SF-based artist Thom Chiaramonte on several character designs (sadly, he will not be available to work as the regular artist), and the results have always made me smile with nerdy delight. I hope to continue our collaboration, on this project and others, for years to come.
I don’t have an artistic partner yet, mostly because I’ve yet to generate a single completed script! I hope to rectify this over the course of the next few months, so that I will have written copies of the first three issues (Grim’s origin arc) completed by April 2010, so I can present them to publishers at the first Chicago Comic & Entertainment Expo.
So what have I been doing for the last three years? Two words (or one word in two parts): world-building! Creating an epic comic book universe out of whole cloth is not done overnight, my friends! No indeed! One has to make all sorts of choices, like how many super people are there? How did they get their powers? What does the rest of the world think about them? Are there aliens? Magic? Other dimensions? Almost every variation on these ideas has been explored, parodied and turned on its head by far more talented writers than myself going all the way back to 1939, when Superman made his heroic debut and the era of the superhero was born. You will literally go nuts if you try to make your world completely 100% original, for it cannot be done!
So what do you do? You make it personal, exploring the themes, characters and concepts that touch you in some way, that make you laugh, cry, or crave a sandwich. And then you take all of that and jam it into twenty-two monthly pages, and hope to God people like it. But if they don’t…well, we can’t all be rich, right?
Tune in next post for another exciting epsiode of Bob the Procrastinator!
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