In the Trenches

I'm all about wigging my fingers these days. I wiggle and move and stretch and pop all my digits in a little dance before I used my hands. Before I type an e-mail, before I boot up the 360 for some righteous zombie slaying, and before I set out to make a sandwich, like I'm getting the boys ready for work.

A pre-game exercise, maybe? Or is it more like "priming the pump" for the task at (literal) hand? I have no clue, it's just a wierd thing I do to get the blood pumping. I'll do it several times during the course of any specific task as well. Like if things arn't going how I want them too, or I'm in an intense spot of a story, I wiggle more and more. Heh, maybe it's a nervous tick.

But it helps. If I resist the urge, tension builds up in my forearms and I can do fuck all. Need to stretch those muscles out.

Get that shit moving.

You know what happens when you have too much fun when you're supposed to be resting?

Microscopic organisms invade your body and knock you the fuck out.

So yeah, I've lived the last week in a NyQuil induced coma, only rising to slave away at Bad Retail™ and drink some juice. My blood is something like 40% Motts now.

Evil micro-organisms fear the pure holy goodness that is Motts Apple Juice.

a.k.a. The After APE Post, with pictures!

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It's Tuesday, right? I think it is, the calendar on my computer and my Treo say it's Tuesday... so yeah, I'm still alive and kicking after an awesome APE weekend. We tackled that shit like a NFL Linebacker, and all with only 8 hours of sleep in a 48 hour period. Now I sit sipping massive amounts of OJ, repairing my system, and preparing a nice little report of what went down this weekend.

The Con


Tony Talbert works his drawing skills all day Sunday at the AiT booth.

First off, it was sunny all day Saturday... thank goodness. A constant and steady steam of folks came through the Concourse spreading all kinds of comic book love. Got a chance to chat it up with some really cool folks and jam about everything from The Shield to the potential damage caused by flying citrus. It's also cool to see cats you either only see once a year or only talk to on the phone.

Also ranking hi on the awesome-o-meter was sharing a booth with Comicraft's J.G. Roshell. It's an exquisite feeling to realize that hanging out with people who's work you admire and look up to is the norm. Comics are love.

Most of the con is still a blur from information overload, but cool stories and tidbits emerge from the ether every now and again. My favorite and most vivid memories come from...

The Party


Sean Maher gets on top of things with Joe Keatinge.

Most of you are aware that I work for the Isotope on occasion, and this night my Special Ops duties placed me in the doorman position. That's right, for those of you that came, I was the dude that checked your ID, stamped your hand, and politely asked you to keep the drinks inside.

You'd think sitting in the same place for 7 hours while a great party rages mere feet from you would be a bummer, but I actually had a blast. It seems everyone came outside to chop it up with me at some point and there was a never ending string of good conversations going on. Some old friends from Yuba City came to visit, and I spent of great deal of time hamming around with Ross Richie and Fil Sablik. If you ever get a chance to hang with these dudes, well, you're in for a good time.

The only incident of the night stemmed from some underage hooligans trying to rush the party. See, it seems that there was some sort of underage dance or something going on across the street, which let out at around 10pm. Seeing a party raging across the street, this mini-thugs attempted to storm the gates. I calmly got up from my chair, held myself upright, flashed the white Adidas, and told those little bastards to get the hell back on their side of the street and wait for their mothers.

The incident was over as soon as it started... beware the power of the Adidas and the Spartan-Red silk shirt. For I am venomous.

After the Aftermath, we had a nice afterparty at my pad. My roommate Chris and I filled the house with snacks, booze, and good tunes. It was cool, lowkey, and full of good friends. My man Mason was the first to pass out, then Ash after a bit. Had to stop Sean from doing something evil to the boy with his anatomy.

Ah, good times.

The Swag


Finally got to hit up the Oni cats for stuff I've been trying to get from the Isotope for awhile. I can't get these titles with my employee discount because, well, we sell them so damn fast we can't keep them in the store. So now Scott Pilgrim, Sharknife, and Peng are all mine; comics that were tailored for dudes like me.


Finally got to meet my boy Josh Boulet who hooked me up with his new book. This cat can draw. We hung out all day on Monday and had what was possibly the most fun all weekend. Josh Boulet is a brother from a different mother. Expect some great things from this man in the very near future. Trust me, you'll be seeing his name a lot.


I cheated and got mine a couple days early. Matt Silady hooked me and Larry up with copies of freshly minted The Homeless Channel. Larry and I both agree that this was the mini of the show, and I can't wait till he finishes the next two issues. Hopefully, I'll get to pull scanning duties again. His girl Serena hooked up what may be the greatest personalized object I posses...


See, Serena is a food scientist. She invents flavors. She hooked me up with a signed bottle of her latest masterpiece. That is six shades of rad.


A runner-up for greatest mini is this comic, Nevermind the Darkness. It's a visual interpretation of Guns and Roses' November Rain trilogy which comes with a CD of all three songs mashed together. That way you read the comic at the same pace as music. Very stunning.


Last but not least, I scored the "tongue-up" Blammo variant plush from our booth. He was the last one left and in need of a good home... how can you resist that face?

Conclusion

Best. APE. Ever.

But now it's time to get back to work here at AiT. A lot of exciting developments were realized after this weekend, so Larry and I switched, geared, and fuled to Make Comics Better with a vengence.

Got some mad-crazy beef geared up for Trenches, too. So I'll see you again sooner than later, a'ight?

...I'll just see you after APE.

Oh what an age we live in when I can update my blog from my phone. My portable phone.

Criminey, this is awesome.

When I'm making comics I sometimes visualize that I'm tilling a field, plow strapped to my back. I'm trudging along, digging my trenches, and making the land fertile for the crop. It's good work, satisfying. The hot sun a constant reminder of your toils. The air conditioning and cold beer that await you at the end keep you going in the short term, and the knowledge that you'll be able to feed your family with this crop keeps you going for the long term.

But sometimes it's frustrating. Sometimes it's raining while you're tilling the field, your feet get stuck in the mud and you get nowhere. The last thing on Earth you want to be doing is tilling that fucking field. Other times it's just too damn hot. You're tired and scorched from the blazing sun and the ground is so damn hard you're getting nowhere as well. You just want to rip off the yoke and run to the end of the field. Go inside, drink your lemonade and play Metal Gear online all day. Or skimp, don't dig in as much as you normally would and just say you plowed the field.

It happens to all of us, trust me. But it's what you do when those times come, which they will, that separates the wheat from the chaff. Me? I know that field has to get plowed and it's all on me to get it done. My family needs to get fed, my buyers need to get their crops so that they can feed their families, and their buyers etc, etc etc. So just do it, quit your bitching, and realize that once you're done you're going to feel just as satisfied. If not more so, because you're first at market and Old Man McGrumpy is still sitting inside.

Man, getting paid for making comics is awesome.