It’s time to fundraise for my daughter’s trip, again. I HATE asking for money!
My daughter wants to sell art for a living. We’ve explained to her that artists often have to work day jobs to pay the bills. Her Occupational Credential Program at school has worked hard to make sure she has marketable skills, but they can’t really teach her to be an independent artist.
I want to write novels and make comic books. I’ve been reading comic books all my life. I think in pictures. (My stories have to be translated into words.) Some of my favorite authors also have graphic novels. I did Inktober last year, and I want more art in my life, but giving myself permission to draw has been a constant battle.
What if I hadn’t given up on writing and art once I left high school? What if I encourage my budding artist to get busy creating? What if I made sure she got her feet wet before she has to work the daily grind? What if? What if? WHAT IF?
I have decided to pool our abilities and resources, and put together a comic book as a fundraiser. Independent publishing is bigger than it’s ever been, and lots of other artists have paved the way and have ALSO passed along the information you need to get started.
I have no idea what I’m doing, and it may completely blow up in my face, but I’m excited, and it also terrifies me, but I’m a-gonna DO IT!
This mother/daughter collaboration will either work, and be the first step on both of our art careers, OR…
I’m NOT giving up on my novel revisions (and there are some personal things that are sucking a lot of my energy away) and I’ll find a way to keep going there, too. The next few months are going to be a rough ride. But LIFE has presented a time-sensitive teaching moment, and I have to grab it by the bridle.
But I’m going to nudge that horse in the dang ribs, cinch up the belly strap, jump on, and hold on for dear life.
Habits are a strange concept. You want to break the “bad” habits, and start the “good” habits, and that’s a lot to expect from something our brains designed to help us get through each day so we can conserve energy for the big things.
I’ve been trying–and failing A LOT–to start the habit of daily drawing. Inktober really opened my eyes to my need to create art, and I already knew that I think in pictures. Novel writing is the process of me learning to slow the pictures enough to describe them to a reader, so why not put in the pictures, too? Life keeps putting great stories in front of me that are drawn very… Well, you don’t have to be Bilal, Serpieri, or “Moebius” to tell a story with pictures. (I mean, have you seen “The Walking Dead” original comic? Clean and clear, but simple.)
But, FIRST you have to give yourself permission to do the creative thing, the fulfilling thing, even if it’s not one of the official “important things.” I’ve bought a few high quality art supplies, but they sat, unused. I found my old art supplies, packed up for probably a decade or more, but they continue to sit, unused. So, I bought some really cheap art supplies, but they have also sat for three weeks, unused. The few times I’ve drawn in the past month are just pencil sketches. I can’t seem to give myself permission to play. Where is this block coming from?
So, for now, I’m researching habits, and how to start them. Maybe more pencil sketches will relax me enough to reach for the charcoal pencils, or even–gasp!–the charcoal sticks! (I’m already wiping my hands in reflex.)
Revisions for my Sci-fi Romance are going very well. I’ve had some real “Eureka!” moments. For those who don’t know, I come from a family of serious DIY people. “Good homeowners just do it themselves,” is the family motto, even when you’re renting. Need to tile a bathroom? Fix a leaky pipe? Put up drywall? Read a book, find a video, figure it out yourself. The DIY lifestyle also applies to cars, jobs, health–mental and physical–and pretty much everything else that life can throw at you. Just do it yourself. Surprisingly, this attitude has mostly worked for us, both as a unit and individuals.
So, for various reasons, I’ve brought that attitude to my writing, and there is PLENTY of writing advice out there. I’ve recently come across a couple of books that seem to have expanded and refined my sense of storytelling, and I’m excited to share them with you in my “Low-Budget Writing Program.” I’ll have the newest post up as soon as I can get it organized. I hope it will help those of you who are DIY writers, whether you are shooting for self-publication or trying to improve enough for acceptances from agents or editors.
Of course, the increased perception has caused a reaction of “OMG, I’m a horrible writer,” but that is expected and will be worked through. Focused practice and skill progression will calm the panic. This ‘aint my first time in the saddle.
On a last note, if you have not cultivated a few trusted beta readers then you NEED to work on that. Not only will you understand storytelling better when you have to explain to someone what they have missed, but an outsider’s eye on your own work is priceless. Well, not priceless, since editors will have a rate to charge you, but I think you understand what I mean.
I have a few people I have exchanged work with and they have saved my bacon this month. I spied an anthology that would be a good fit for one of my developing short stories, so I rushed through a readable rough draft. BUT, without a chance to let it get “cold” any objective revision would be difficult. I begged for help. Everyone came back with notes early, so I have time to revise before I submit. I’ll let you know how that goes.
That’s it. All thirty-one pieces of art from Inktober. I framed them and put them above my desk.
It feels a bit weird, like I’m betraying my humble, working class heritage. We don’t go for vanity, or tootling your own horn, or any such drawing attention to yourself. I mean, they aren’t that good, and some of them a really bad. Nobody would buy them, and art is a waste of time, and you have to work hard to feed your family. I mean, you could put one or two of the best up, but not where anyone would see, except maybe family, who will love you anyway. You don’t want to get above yourself.
I turn fifty in a couple of months. My country is a dumpster fire. Human rights and social safety nets are being lost and cut like they’re made of tissue paper. (The really cheap stuff, from the dollar store.) Profit is God, and people are dying on it’s altar. Everybody I know is struggling to keep it together, sometimes just day-by-day. Including me.
I’m going to make Art. I’m going to draw and write my feelings. I spent thirty-one dollars at the dollar store for frames. I went to the library for books on graphic novel and comic book techniques. I’ve written three novels, have the notes for six more, and I’m going to keep working on them until they are ready to publish. I’m going to submit short stories to anthologies, and keep writing my blog, and… Keep screaming my words to the wind.
I don’t really know what else to do.
“The purpose of art is washing the dust of daily life off our souls.” Pablo Picasso
I’m completely fried, but wanted to check in. Thank you for all of the support and patience with me this month. I will try to get the useful posts up in November and December, along with pics of the costume I was working on.
Apparently, I’ve just added a graphic novel/comic series to next year’s agenda, because I didn’t have enough projects going on. Nice. It’s scripted, but I’ll be doing layout and pencils. Then I’ll have to ink, color and letter it, unless I hook an artist by the imagination or suddenly get rich enough to hire one. Yikes!
Happy writing, especially all of you NaNoWriMo participants! I’ll be cheering you from the sidelines!
I’m sure no Humans are worried that I missed a post last Monday. Hell, I didn’t even realize I had forgotten for about 36 hours. I have found the literal, figurative, metaphorical, and actual limit to my creativity.
Inktober and making-a-new-cosplay-for-my-daughter do not play well with others. I was able to edit for the first two weeks, along with helping some friends with other projects, but it all went sideways week three.
Honestly, I’ll be surprised if I get a post up next Monday, unless it’s just a stream of obscenities. I may post Nov 1st to prove I survived, or I will sleep all day. Thank goodness I didn’t commit to NaNoWriMo because of my strong commitment to editing my WIP. Good luck to those who are doing it!
What the heck was I thinking? Committing to Inktober2017 was horribly naïve. I am so far out of my depth that the deep-sea fishes–the kind with running lights and glow lures–think I am stupid for risking this crush-depth. I mean, it’s fun, creative, and nerve-racking, and I’m getting to do things I haven’t done for DECADES, and I’m learning lots about myself…
Well, I guess I answered my own question. And I wouldn’t be the first artistic/creative person who switched mediums, or just found some days were better for different mediums. The stories are still there, on a low simmer, but so much creative effort is going into each piece of art that I don’t have any to spare. I am getting some editing done in the early am, so I still have a hand in. Struggling to get the beta reading done, and the helpful posts haven’t happened. Sorry.
So, I hope all of you have productive and creative weeks. I’ll get a handle on my schedule, one way or another. I hope the spin I gave the Franz Kafka quote (above) gives you a chuckle. My apologies to Terry Pratchett for his use of the “Five Exclamations of Madness,” and for stealing the newspaper idea.
Evening meal and chores while watching the death toll rise.
Inktober drawing while listening to Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers.
Shower beer. (This is an actual first.)
Things that are absent from the list? Beta reading. The Low-Budget Writing posts. Crying, because I’m still numb with shock, and wondering how bad it’s going to get before it gets better, or if this is the new normal.
I have a new short story burbling. (Some of you might know this, if you’re on Facebook.) I know that every story is different, and I have already described them as soups or thunderstorms, but THIS one is different. This one is sapient. It’s a little troll or Gollum sitting on my shoulder, muttering to its self.
What is it doing? Grabbing at passing information, tossing some, tucking others away in its ragged clothes. What is it keeping? Anything having to do with Saturn’s moons, Titan and Enceladus. Some psychology, a little biology. It’s eyeballing my copy of
The Lucifer Effect” by Phillip Zimbardo, which I haven’t read yet. What are two things I’m positive it has? My memories of the movie “2010,” and my copy of Lovecraft’s “The Dunwich Horror.”
I think it’s safe to say it’s going to be horror. I thought it would be a short story, but with the amount of information being hoarded, it may be a novella. To date, I have only received a short snippet of dialogue.
“Who the fuck harvests their dead teenaged daughter’s eggs, takes them along on an exploratory mission, then mixes one with random biologic samples from some frozen moon? That’s just… UGH!”
Cade shrugs. “Brilliant isn’t the same as stable.”
So, I guess I wait for the rest of the story to see where this goes, and I’m completely sure I’m in over my head.