Art for the Panda Girls graphic novel has begun. Many many posts to follow. Stay tuned.
Our Current Project:
Life has begun to return to some semblance of what I call normalcy.
The train-wreck draft is a time-honored step in the writing process for Crom and I. It's what we consider an internal draft of a manuscript or screenplay we’ve committed to write. We refer to it as a train-wreck, I think in part, to make it seem less intimidating. It’s a process, and if you expect to bat a thousand on the first draft, make sure you’ve mastered self-delusion.
What I find interesting are the similarities with illustration. As an animator and comic artist, I have learned to start with the line of action; a single line drawn with the intent to capture the space and movement of the figure, before considering the details. From that single line we build up the forms, dancing through the figure as we witness it slowly develop — like a figure from the fog.
But I believe there is also something to take away for an overall approach to life. Perhaps not the train-wreck (I knew you were thinking it, Crom), but indeed the line of action. The mistake starts on day-one, when we set out to be a success (as though we hope or expect our talent and skill to be fully formed). There’s no fog to emerge from, it’s an attempt to catch lightning in a bottle — or nothing. Don't fall victim to this creative pitfall.
Give yourself the time you need. Don't be so bloody hard on yourself, and don't plan your career’s path — if you actually arrive at your destination, I guarantee it wont be how you expected to get there. Anticipate some scrapes along the way (or in Crom’s case blunt force trauma), and don’t think yourself any less if you doubt a little. We all have doubt.
Focus less on trying to nail the first draft, and more on the process. Take it from someone who knows — I guarantee life will be more enjoyable.
As a creator of story and character I'm expected to develop concepts an audience would respond to, (and by respond we mean willingly hand over money for the experience). A writer does the same, but in today's market most find themselves telling stories for a franchise remake, or for some other intellectual property with an established fan-following. So what’s the first thing a creator (and writer), should know?
When we were young it was the form that mattered most. It was enough that Wolverine was an irreverent three foot three wildman capable of healing from any wound, had adamantium grafted to his bones; and yes — there were those badass claws. And really, what more did a kid want?
But even at that age, the metaphor was at work — its subject was why we loved Wolverine.
As the mind starts to age and broaden by reaching deeper for meaning, we wonder why we love the things we so deeply cherish. That's when we discover subtext and metaphor are at the heart of it all. We realize there's a reason why Wolverine must be three foot three and be irreverent — the metaphor would have no impact otherwise, and its subject, (and your love of it), would never have occurred.
And what's Wolverine's subject? Rebellion against all authority. Past his claws, his stout frame, and his ability to take unimaginable punishment, rises a figure who will refuse to stand down, quit, or kneel. If it's corrupt, he's the one to sniff it out. And lastly, his individuality (versus state) is expressed by being a lone wolf.
All of Wolverine’s qualities are the form that expresses the subject. This character, in particular, has enjoyed tremendous success, and it isn't difficult to understand why. But was this by design or by chance — were the creator’s decisons, that lead to Wolverine’s success, made with complete awareness of this metaphor’s power?
Yes, and no.
The subconscious is a powerful force. The best writers and creators secretly pay tithe to it, all-the-while their conscious minds wanting to take credit. Creating anything worthy comes deep from within. When it surfaces it’s all we can do to decode the primal message and create a form that connects with people; and express it in metaphor.
Examine The Uncanny X-Men's first foray into comics. It was little more than a team with superpowers fighting villains with the same; all without the prejudice and persecution later realized by Chris Claremont. It was that persecution of the next step in human evolution that elevated The Uncanny X-Men from fighting with fireworks to a metaphor that demanded attention, and more importantly, a deep fondness from millions of fans.
So when you sit down to create, consider the subject. Dig deep and determine what matters to you — primally. Let it move you, playing it over and over while you search for an expression of form that will connect.
And when you think you’ve finished, you’ll realize you want people to see it, to experience it — which means you'll have to create a narrative around your metaphor, your new character.
I’ll post about building narrative later.
For me, as a creator, my drug is inventing a concept, and breaking a story that lets that idea live in the minds of the reader and audience. When we get into the jungle and start hacking through all the possible events, crafting them together, and on rare occasion, having that epiphany which makes it all come together — feeling those goosebumps rush over — ho-man, I'm addicted.
Crom and I have been breaking the story for the first season of a web-series. The concept: three women run a service to help men find a mate. The interesting thing is how this concept, despite its deceptively simple premise, got our immediate attention (and not because we’re being paid to write).
Both Crom and I realized that the office out of which they run their service would be an incredibly charged place; that it would naturally be the place where most of the characters, and story, would converge. And who would their clients be? What sort of person would walk through those doors; or even better, get up to the door, then turn and walk away.
Then we realized the three women should be recently divorced. That the first episode, in fact, would start with the the main character's divorce being final. It not only reveals vulnerability, but it puts their entire operation’s existence into question. If they themselves were unable to maintain a marriage, why would anybody pay them for advice.
Once we had this, we were off. The first arc is four episodes, and we hit the climax of each, building the main character’s story to collapse by the final. HItting each of these endings, we were able to outline the four episodes quickly. We focused on the main character in our first story session, then moved on to the other two supporting characters at the next. But it was figuring out these episode climaxes that gave the story its spine. (Crom talks a little about starting at the end of a story here.)
I gotta say, it felt good. We really burned through a lot of ideas, able to dismiss them quickly because we both had the same sense of what the story should be, what these characters were about. And what’s more, as we were writing, it felt relevent to our times considering the continued isolation we feel in today’s society. There's a lot to say.
Now we must present to the producer, and hope he sees what we see in the story’s building events. But if he doesn’t — if he hates it all — it wont matter. Crom and I have been there before, as has every writer who’s put something forward. As long as we continue to start with the climax, and resist the urge to jump into writing the script too soon, breaking another story remains manageable.
Besides, breaking another story just feeds my addiction.
You know, it's funny. I espouse all kinds of theory and rhetoric about how writing, film and art has to possess some meaning — and then this video is made:
All of it 3D, and stunning.
I suggest you carve out 12 minutes, without interruption, full-screen the video and make sure your volume is at a good level. It's worth it.
There is a virus spreading, and its victims are the self-proclaimed “geeks” of our society; but even more devastating is its spread to our writers.
This geek virus prays on the intelligent, corkscrewing their mind into rationalizing irony where none exists, admiring the pop-reference as a substitute for real expression, and mistaking confusion for illumination.
They even celebrated Battlestar Galactica.
If I were a geek, and perhaps I am, I might refer to this treacherous virus as a meme. If I were a geek, and perhaps I am, I might also believe my discerning intellect is immune. Lastly, if I were a geek, and perhaps I'm NOT, I might have already rejected these theories, not realizing the act of rejecting them is how this virus flourishes — unchecked.
This label has us chasing something. It isn’t we who define it — it defines us. This viral strain is particularly insidious because of how stealthily it uses our intellect as its nest. Once there, it fools our mind into believing our encyclopedic knowledge of pop-culture can pass for creativity, self-expression, and sometimes genius. And what’s worse is there are plenty of infected others who celebrate it, providing social proof.
Did I mention — our writers are too, infected.
Our writers attempt to use pop-reference as something meaningful beyond it's source; and they have the added benefit of the euphoric "hit" received by the audience when they “get it”. And all of it unearned.
These are not writers — these are copyists.
These are copyists similar to a child tracing their favorite superhero with a primary pencil. They present it to an audience (their mother), and pass it off as their own. The difference between them and a child are these copyists don't lack the required understanding of plagiarism, and therefore invent the “mash-up” as a "form of art".
Watch one scene of How I Met Your Mother, and and you’ll be witness to several pop-references passing itself off as relevant beyond the source (“The Murtaugh List” comes to mind). Even worse, sit through an episode of The Big Bang Theory without mention of Star Wars — unlikely.
It isn't the pop-culture reference who is deserving of persecution, it falls to those who would use it as their dynamo, stealing the charge from reference alone. The truth is:
If they were writers, they would create something worthy of stealing; and if we weren’t geeks, we would expect no less.
A stylized sketch paint.
My schedule has finally come to a manageable state, and I've been going back to work on some commission projects.
This is a screencap of what will ultimately be part of a collage for a documentary DVD cover of our Canadian athlete, Jessica Zelinka. The…
The rhinos were quite active yesterday; bumping each other. Who knew rhinos were partial to tomfoolery. Two giants colliding are comical, and tremendous.
The animals are always posing beautifully, they just never hold them long enough...
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