Comics I'm Chewing On ... #1

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Having been to a few comic conventions this year, I've been able to pick up lots of super new books by some absurdly talented writers and artists. And since I mainly only get to read in bite sizes, during breakfast each morning, it tends to take me a looooong time to finish each book. Lately though, I've been able to get through a few in a timely enough manner that I actually remember what I read, so I thought I'd mention what I thought of them. This'll be the first in a mini-series of reviews of all the good stuff I'm gobbling up lately.

Gingerbread Girl 

by Paul Tobin and Colleen Coover

I knew zilch about this book going in, but wanted it purely based on Colleen's gorgeous, mischeviously sexy art. She has this way of creating characters who are simultaneously fun and inviting while being up to no good, which works perfectly for Annah, the main character of the book.

It begins with Annah's story and the way she tells it, but then branches off in fun and unexpected ways to continue the thread through the eyes of anyone who crosses her path.

Anyone remember that movie Fallen with Denzel Washington in it, where this serial killer keeps jumping around and possessing one person's body after another? (Spoiler Alert: He may or may not also possess a cat by the end of the movie - LOL).

That's kind of what happens here - as Annah bops around in her own little world, her story is suddenly inhaled by each person she passes along her journey and they become compelled to continue where the last bystander left off. The story itself is a little bit mystery, a little bit romance, and a little bit fantasy - Annah's out looking for her missing sister, who has almost become a different version of herself altogether. Along the way she struggles with her own identity, how she comes across to others, and how she intends to be from now on. The reader gets to try to piece everything together along with her and her various narrators.

Clearly the subject matter of duality fascinates me (see random post obsessing about my own duality here) and this book takes you on a wending, swirly, fun path to discovery, and you really don't know what you're going to find at the end of it all. In the meantime, you'll have such a fun, flirty read along the way!

 

 

Comics I'm Chewing On ... #1

/

Having been to a few comic conventions this year, I've been able to pick up lots of super new books by some absurdly talented writers and artists. And since I mainly only get to read in bite sizes, during breakfast each morning, it tends to take me a looooong time to finish each book. Lately though, I've been able to get through a few in a timely enough manner that I actually remember what I read, so I thought I'd mention what I thought of them. This'll be the first in a mini-series of reviews of all the good stuff I'm gobbling up lately.

Gingerbread Girl 

by Paul Tobin and Colleen Coover

I knew zilch about this book going in, but wanted it purely based on Colleen's gorgeous, mischeviously sexy art. She has this way of creating characters who are simultaneously fun and inviting while being up to no good, which works perfectly for Annah, the main character of the book.

It begins with Annah's story and the way she tells it, but then branches off in fun and unexpected ways to continue the thread through the eyes of anyone who crosses her path.

Anyone remember that movie Fallen with Denzel Washington in it, where this serial killer keeps jumping around and possessing one person's body after another? (Spoiler Alert: He may or may not also possess a cat by the end of the movie - LOL).

That's kind of what happens here - as Annah bops around in her own little world, her story is suddenly inhaled by each person she passes along her journey and they become compelled to continue where the last bystander left off. The story itself is a little bit mystery, a little bit romance, and a little bit fantasy - Annah's out looking for her missing sister, who has almost become a different version of herself altogether. Along the way she struggles with her own identity, how she comes across to others, and how she intends to be from now on. The reader gets to try to piece everything together along with her and her various narrators.

Clearly the subject matter of duality fascinates me (see random post obsessing about my own duality here) and this book takes you on a wending, swirly, fun path to discovery, and you really don't know what you're going to find at the end of it all. In the meantime, you'll have such a fun, flirty read along the way!

 

 

Excavating In My Own Home

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Our house was built in 1920. It's a row home with original wood floors, awesome high ceilings on every level, and tons of character. I've lived here for 6 years, and in that time, I'll admit it, I've accrued a lot of junk. However, in the basement cellar, back where the washer and the dryer and the spiders and sprickets live, there's been a bunch of stuff that was there ever since I moved in. Shelving units, cabinets, TONS of paint cans, you name it. Over the years I'll admit I've contributed some closet doors, broken A/C units, a boxspring, ... until it eventually ended up looking like this:

Not much room to really walk, just the bare minimum path to the washer and the dryer. This was the Basement Sitch.

Another problem we had, steadily growing beyond the bounds of what we could accomplish ourselves, was the Backyard Sitch. Once again, old house, previous owners, and upon trying to get the yard to resemble something other than a jungle, the BF found mountains and mountains of bricks, wood, and stone. ALL somehow buried in our teeny little yard.

Yipes. So after months of hemming and hawing, my boyfriend and I finally threw in the towel and called in the professionals. I grouped together everything that had been there for ages and needed to go.

We called in two guys from All Star Waste & Recycling who came to the rescue. I fretted that they'd tell me they couldn't take everything, but one of the workers assured me everything could go. He then calmly told his partner to "bring him the sledgehammer" and within record time .... VOILA!

All the junk was magically taken care of. SUCH a load off. Once things were cleared out, we discovered ... TREASURES!!

Real wood blocks rare, and original to the house (now we just have to think of something cool to do with them):

A door . . .

And hidden on the other side of it, in the lock ... the master skeleton key!

Then the coup de grace ... an old matchbook!

I couldn't find any info on the place - looks like there was a Three Little Bakers Dinner Theatre in Wilmington, Delaware that closed down in 2007. BUT! I did find another matchbook on eBay! LOL. And it looks like this fine lady used to perform there.

Did we discover any dead bodies? No, not yet. But I do like the fact that I've uncovered something besides bricks (god - so many bricks) in this old place ... a li'l bit of history.

No, That OTHER You, The One Over There

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I've always been kind of obsessed with the idea of doppelgangers. Or, more of the idea that there is another part of my personality (some part that I'm missing) running around out there, free of my body but still walking around wearing an identical one. Weird, right? A year ago, I wrote an autobio comic about my experience being a teen mall model, and in it I touched on a time when I was 16 and came upon a girl who looked exactly like me in the record store.

After that sighting, I was obsessed with the idea of a different version of me out there somewhere, living a much cooler life. When I was 23, I was at the theater with my friends about to see X2. I had another doppelganger sighting, but this time of what I referred to as my "Exact Male Double". I reasoned that because I had a short bob haircut, him a mod shaggy haircut, we resembled eachother almost exactly, even down to what we were wearing. I tested this theory out on my friend as she walked by -

"Hey, see that guy over there?"

"Oh my god, that's YOU!!"

I stared at him and he stared back (clearly because he recognized and acknowledged the fact that we were the same person, not that he was weirded out by a girl in the same outfit staring at him). I didn't dare get any closer to him, because I was convinced we'd cancel eachother out. Or, would that happen only if you encountered the exact opposite of you?

I do believe that there are doppelgangers of everyone running loose in the world, simply because I believe that nature gets tired of coming up with new things all the time, so doubles are bound to happen. It's the same with personalities -- I've been introduced to people who I've instantly clicked with because I've already been good friends with someone of the exact same personality, mannerisms, sense of humor, etc. So I can get past all that initial meeting stuff and become good friends.

I love the idea, though, of being somehow connected to this other version of myself while still knowing absolutely nothing about them. I used to think that whenever I had a really good or bad day for no reason, it was because my doppelganger was up to something in her own world. And I assumed that I affected her somehow in the same way too. You know, whatever, fun to muse about, right?

Then I heard the Am I Carrying My Own Twin podcast (from Stuff Mom Never Told You), and it FREAKED THE SHIT OUT OF ME. Basically, there is a creeeeeepy phenomenon called fetus in fetu, where basically twins in the womb don't manifest as twins, but rather one absorbs the other one. So one of the twins ends up carrying the other one. Brrrrrrrr. Of course, this is super rare, and it's not like it ever results in another actual living creature. And there's been tons of sci-fi and horror books and movies enamored with the idea of the subdued twin coming back to kill its sibling.

Once I got past all the creepy ookiness of it, I did find if fascinating that these womb twin survivors will carry with them throughout their lives this feeling that they are missing their double, their twin. They have a constant longing for someone who is supposed to be identical to them. So whenever I hear about people seeing doppelgangers (or, even weirder, the phenomenon when you hear the sounds of someone returning home from work and moving around - and they don't actually arrive until hours later) I wonder if we all have this desire to reconnect with our Vanishing Twin in one form or another, even if we were never the product of fetus in fetu (*barf*). Or maybe we're just all narcissistic jerks and would simply like to see more of ourselves out in the world.

No, That OTHER You, The One Over There

/

I've always been kind of obsessed with the idea of doppelgangers. Or, more of the idea that there is another part of my personality (some part that I'm missing) running around out there, free of my body but still walking around wearing an identical one. Weird, right? A year ago, I wrote an autobio comic about my experience being a teen mall model, and in it I touched on a time when I was 16 and came upon a girl who looked exactly like me in the record store.

After that sighting, I was obsessed with the idea of a different version of me out there somewhere, living a much cooler life. When I was 23, I was at the theater with my friends about to see X2. I had another doppelganger sighting, but this time of what I referred to as my "Exact Male Double". I reasoned that because I had a short bob haircut, him a mod shaggy haircut, we resembled eachother almost exactly, even down to what we were wearing. I tested this theory out on my friend as she walked by -

"Hey, see that guy over there?"

"Oh my god, that's YOU!!"

I stared at him and he stared back (clearly because he recognized and acknowledged the fact that we were the same person, not that he was weirded out by a girl in the same outfit staring at him). I didn't dare get any closer to him, because I was convinced we'd cancel eachother out. Or, would that happen only if you encountered the exact opposite of you?

I do believe that there are doppelgangers of everyone running loose in the world, simply because I believe that nature gets tired of coming up with new things all the time, so doubles are bound to happen. It's the same with personalities -- I've been introduced to people who I've instantly clicked with because I've already been good friends with someone of the exact same personality, mannerisms, sense of humor, etc. So I can get past all that initial meeting stuff and become good friends.

I love the idea, though, of being somehow connected to this other version of myself while still knowing absolutely nothing about them. I used to think that whenever I had a really good or bad day for no reason, it was because my doppelganger was up to something in her own world. And I assumed that I affected her somehow in the same way too. You know, whatever, fun to muse about, right?

Then I heard the Am I Carrying My Own Twin podcast (from Stuff Mom Never Told You), and it FREAKED THE SHIT OUT OF ME. Basically, there is a creeeeeepy phenomenon called fetus in fetu, where basically twins in the womb don't manifest as twins, but rather one absorbs the other one. So one of the twins ends up carrying the other one. Brrrrrrrr. Of course, this is super rare, and it's not like it ever results in another actual living creature. And there's been tons of sci-fi and horror books and movies enamored with the idea of the subdued twin coming back to kill its sibling.

Once I got past all the creepy ookiness of it, I did find if fascinating that these womb twin survivors will carry with them throughout their lives this feeling that they are missing their double, their twin. They have a constant longing for someone who is supposed to be identical to them. So whenever I hear about people seeing doppelgangers (or, even weirder, the phenomenon when you hear the sounds of someone returning home from work and moving around - and they don't actually arrive until hours later) I wonder if we all have this desire to reconnect with our Vanishing Twin in one form or another, even if we were never the product of fetus in fetu (*barf*). Or maybe we're just all narcissistic jerks and would simply like to see more of ourselves out in the world.

Embarrassment is Good for the Complexion

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I don't know how I convince myself to do these things.

If it isn't telling myself that yes, at 29, I can learn how to rollerskate, and do it in front of audiences while wearing hotpants and falling down (a LOT), ... then it's me thinking that, yes, I can compete in a crazy live art competition where I have no idea what's going on.

So this past weekend (after taking some ill advice from fellow comicker and artist Mike Bracco), I signed up for the Super Art Fight Idol competition. Super Art Fight was described to me as "pro wrestling for artists" and involved costumes, frantic drawing, music, and live commentary. Really, that's all I needed to know. So I dared myself to be stupid and threw my hat in the ring to compete.

Sixteen artists. Fifteen-minute bouts. Five hours. Three judges. Two finalists to go on to compete at Super Art Fight XI. One bored boyfriend (well ... bored until he realized the AWESOMENESS that was going on, then he was totally into it).

Each artist starts off with one topic in mind to draw - in my first bout, I chose "velociraptor on a skateboard" and my opponent Ashley Harnden more wisely chose "portal". This gave her the range to draw all over the canvas and attack my drawings from every area imaginable. I knew, at this moment, that I was screwed. I know the boyfriend plays portal, I know I've seen it, but I had no idea what to counter with .... until I remembered I've seen Jurassic Park 897 times and OH could I use that. The point of Super Art Fight is to use your theme against your opponent's and dominate the canvas - populate it with your drawings, take over their drawings, and direct as many witty drawings toward your opponent's drawings you can ... all without making the canvas one huge, stinking mess of scribbles. Oh, and every five minutes they spin a WHEEL OF DEATH and change the topic you're supposed to draw. Utter and complete madness? Yes.

But ingenious. While I was trying to be witty and drawing little jokes on the canvas, hearing the announcers describe what I'd drawn, and then actually hearing the crowd laugh in response was, needless to say, something artists rarely get to experience themselves. Sure, you're onstage under terrifying spotlights, but the fact that you can do what you like best - draw - in front of an audience, and get an instant response is pretty incredible. Normally, after hours locked away in a room by yourself, you decide that what you've drawn is funny, and no one can argue with you until you post it online. Instant feedback and instant crowd involvement was something I never hoped to experience as an artist.

So it was awesome, and intimidating, and terrifying, and every artist there made nervous. I had no idea what I'd be up against. But somehow I lucked out and won 2 rounds, tied the 3rd, and joined two other canvas champs (Daryl Gnau and Henry Alexander) in a three-way tie! All three of us get to move on to the Super Art Fight XI on August 20th.

And before you ask, no, I don't even want to think about how I'm going to beat another contestant at the drawing board, let alone two simultaneously ... (that's what she said).

(Pictures courtesy of Peet!)

Embarrassment is Good for the Complexion

/

I don't know how I convince myself to do these things.

If it isn't telling myself that yes, at 29, I can learn how to rollerskate, and do it in front of audiences while wearing hotpants and falling down (a LOT), ... then it's me thinking that, yes, I can compete in a crazy live art competition where I have no idea what's going on.

So this past weekend (after taking some ill advice from fellow comicker and artist Mike Bracco), I signed up for the Super Art Fight Idol competition. Super Art Fight was described to me as "pro wrestling for artists" and involved costumes, frantic drawing, music, and live commentary. Really, that's all I needed to know. So I dared myself to be stupid and threw my hat in the ring to compete.

Sixteen artists. Fifteen-minute bouts. Five hours. Three judges. Two finalists to go on to compete at Super Art Fight XI. One bored boyfriend (well ... bored until he realized the AWESOMENESS that was going on, then he was totally into it).

Each artist starts off with one topic in mind to draw - in my first bout, I chose "velociraptor on a skateboard" and my opponent Ashley Harnden more wisely chose "portal". This gave her the range to draw all over the canvas and attack my drawings from every area imaginable. I knew, at this moment, that I was screwed. I know the boyfriend plays portal, I know I've seen it, but I had no idea what to counter with .... until I remembered I've seen Jurassic Park 897 times and OH could I use that. The point of Super Art Fight is to use your theme against your opponent's and dominate the canvas - populate it with your drawings, take over their drawings, and direct as many witty drawings toward your opponent's drawings you can ... all without making the canvas one huge, stinking mess of scribbles. Oh, and every five minutes they spin a WHEEL OF DEATH and change the topic you're supposed to draw. Utter and complete madness? Yes.

But ingenious. While I was trying to be witty and drawing little jokes on the canvas, hearing the announcers describe what I'd drawn, and then actually hearing the crowd laugh in response was, needless to say, something artists rarely get to experience themselves. Sure, you're onstage under terrifying spotlights, but the fact that you can do what you like best - draw - in front of an audience, and get an instant response is pretty incredible. Normally, after hours locked away in a room by yourself, you decide that what you've drawn is funny, and no one can argue with you until you post it online. Instant feedback and instant crowd involvement was something I never hoped to experience as an artist.

So it was awesome, and intimidating, and terrifying, and every artist there made nervous. I had no idea what I'd be up against. But somehow I lucked out and won 2 rounds, tied the 3rd, and joined two other canvas champs (Daryl Gnau and Henry Alexander) in a three-way tie! All three of us get to move on to the Super Art Fight XI on August 20th.

And before you ask, no, I don't even want to think about how I'm going to beat another contestant at the drawing board, let alone two simultaneously ... (that's what she said).

(Pictures courtesy of Peet!)

The Glamorous Life

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When you tell people that you make/create/draw comic books, for the purpose of actually getting people to read them, you're usually met with one of three reactions:

  1. Disbelief
  2. Admiration
  3. Confusion
One common theme, I've noticed, is that people are instantly intrigued. Why would you do such a thing? How do you do such a thing? Or (my favorite, as asked by a technician giving me a facial) - How do you come up with ... ideas? The thing that I've always enjoyed is that overall I tend to get positive reactions. It's few and far between that people actually challenge me on whether I can make a living off of it (I can't - yet), or why to even bother putting stories out into the world. Most people are just impressed that you answered their "What do you do for a living?" question with something remotely interesting.
The sad reality of the matter is that, in fact, it's a lot of this:
Late night, post-day job, shunning all other activities to lock yourself in a room and draw as much as you can. It is work. There's no getting around the sheer volume of sweat and sacrifice of vertebrae and hours and hours of time in order to make comics. It is not quick or fleeting. It is balls-to-the-wall, nose-to-the-sharpie work.
But there is one really wonderful thing you can discover when you've finally gotten out of rush hour and arrived home and even though the complete Twilight Zone series on DVD is calling your name and people are pinging you to go to Happy Hour and you're resisting it all to go in that drawing room  - you must really like comics. Every time people grill you about why you're wasting your time on that hobby, or telling you you're not a true comics fan because you don't know X, Y, and superhero Z, you can secretly smile. Because you like comics WAY more than any fanboy or hobbyist or collector does. And you've proven to yourself that there is something you love to do.

And hey - another upside - wine!

... Aaand I just found eraser bits stuck to my lipstick.

Have I Mentioned I Like Lipstick?

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I'm not sure exactly when it started, but I think it was sometime around the first time I saw Labyrinth that I started digging red lipstick. In the beginning of the movie, when Jennifer Connelly is running around in the forest by herself, she's put on some red lipstick to complete the illusion that she's been transformed into a princess. And, when she realizes it's time to race home to baby-sit, she immediately wipes it off to return to her "normal" self.

I remember the first time I tried red lipstick, when I was in ballet recitals as a young girl. They would put GOBS of make-up on us, and though I was never sad about switching back into jeans from my leotard, I always tried to get away with wearing the lipstick juuuuussst a bit longer. You know, bring some glamour back home with me.

In high school I started wearing lipstick in earnest every day. At that point it was whatever I could find that I liked that was cheap - hellloooo Wet N' Wild! And that kicked off my obsession with locating the perfect red lipstick. Sure I used to wear pinks, browns, and mauves, but I always went back to red.  And though I loved the freedom that the cheapness of Wet N' Wild afforded me to experiment with new colors, without fail their reds would turn bright pink on me. So you can imagine my surprise as I was flipping through Real Simple yesterday and discovered this:

Lovely, perfect shade of red lipstick. Who made it, you ask? Wet N' Wild MegaLast Lip Color in Red Velvet. Blasphemy!!

Now, as much as I would like to believe that color would work on me, I've been fooled a lot over the years and have wasted a lot of money on various shades that inevitably turn pink. And I've finally found my true love, who I will be loyal to forever and ever (as long as they don't discontinue the color).

Nars velvet matte lip pencil in Cruella is the way to go. Once, a couple months back, they ran out of Cruella, and I panicked and had to resort to wearing Dragon Girl for a while. I liked Dragon Girl, but again, she was a bit too bright for my taste. A bit too flirty, too pin-upy. Thankfully,  they restocked the Cruella and I was back to my true self. Deep, rich, clothed in the hides of puppies Cruella.

The pencils can be a bit tricky, and expensive, and I've gone through a lot of pencil sharpeners to find ones that will last and not tear up the precious lipstick as they sharpen (currently I recommend the Essence of Beauty Dual Pencil Sharpener). But the price is little to pay for my favorite lip color. I wear lipstick to the gym. I wear lipstick swimming. A couple years ago, a bunch of my coworkers thought it'd be funny to all wear red lipstick on my birthday as a tribute to me, and all of them who went through with it reported feeling awkward with it on. I feel awkward without it. I keep the gnarled stubs of my lipstick squirreled away in various locations around me, in case of emergency.

Sometimes I do wish I could switch my make-up styles around with my hair and outfits, but I know I would always feel weird. A little off, a little incomplete. I feel the way about life that Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany's felt about bad news:

A girl just can't read that sort of thing without her lipstick.

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