I would like the rains to hurry up and get here and smother the remainder of this spectacularly awful weekend.

Off to the hospital to visit a friend.

One page of inks just about complete.  Three more in pencils.

Can this go any slower today?  Back at it in the morning.

Four pages left.  

Trip has been cancelled.

Tired.

Three pages out, three pages in inks, four pages in pencils.

Right now we're all figuring out that I'm just too slow for this monthly schedule, and it sucks because with a little time this could look really interesting.  Some decisions have been made, not totally crazy about them but at this point where my hand is about to blow a gasket and there's no more speed to be gained that's all there's left to do.  More on this will no doubt be revealed soon.

Right now I need to get an icepack and some more sleep.

The trip has been moved to the end of next week.  I wish we could be there now.

Three pages mostly inked, a fourth one started in pencils.  Still at it here.

Three pages pencilled this morning.  It's looking good but this is going to a doozy of batch.

So much to do.  Our trip out is going to be delayed by a few days and that's okay with me right now.

I need some sleep.

Those four pages are done. I have a bunch to get done by Sunday before we head out of town for a few days. Working on the road isn't exactly fun but sometimes it's unavoidable, and the setting should be very stimulating. More on that soon.

Okay, two of those pages are ready to scan out, one needs some touch ups and a fourth is halfway there. Should have them done tonight and then it's on to the next scene.

Busy week ahead.

Anyone looking to break into comics have a listen to this recorded panel from SDCC. Seriously, you'll do yourself a huge favour.

How Not to Break Into Comics

Came home from the office not too long ago, was about to go to bed for the morning when I saw the paper. No doubt you've heard about the poor kid who was stabbed on the Greyhound Bus the other day. Latest news is that the 22 year old Tim McLean ("Tiny Tim" to his friends) was on break between carnivals where he worked midways. After his visit home in Winnipeg his next stop would have been the Vancouver PNE.

Where he worked for the last three summers.

How many times have we passed this guy or played at his rollerball or darts booth even?

Jesus Christ.

On Friday we decided to ditch the con stress and head out to the San Diego zoo with Ed Brubaker, his very talented wife Mel and several friends (including Michael Christian who inked some of my pencils in the waaaay back days! He works in computer programming now and is doing really well!).  It was a very hot afternoon and many of the animals had hidden themselves away for their mid-afternoon naps but we did get to see many snakes and birds, a meerkat or two and of course, the Allen's Swamp Monkey.

The best part, and I wish my camera hadn't gone and buggered up on me so I could show you, there were sea otters sharing the enclosure with these monkeys!  It was the coolest thing to see the otters darting in and out of the bushes, get ambushed by a monkey, wrestle a bit and then dive into the many pools within the enclosure.   This just doesn't happen in nature right?  And yet, there it was and they seemed incredibly happy.  Here are two monkeys playing by a waterfall.

When they got tired of playing one made his way up to the edge of a pool near where we were watching.  He sat close to the glass and tucked his feet up against it, just curled up in the shade, cooling off his butt in the water.

At that point we lost our group but we all knew there were panels to get back to so it was okay to take off.  It was a perfect little afternoon, a much needed break and good lord why have I been going to con for 17 years and never done this before?

The con report will continue, meanwhile back at the office, I'm bouncing between three pages.  Should have them done tonight.

Now this feels pretty damn good.

Since getting back on Monday I've been floating about in a bit of a daze. It was an incredible weekend in San Diego and there will be more posted about it shortly.

Back at the board this last couple of days, I have two pages almost ready to get scanned out, and two more to get done over the weekend. The weather has been fantastic, cool with spots of rain which means the office is actually tolerable.

During the post Spike panel press meet I get to stand between Lucy Lawless and Jaime King while reporters flash cameras like crazy and Lucy says in a mock whisper "I'm touching her breast!"

And she totally was!

I've been glowing ever since.

Having a freaky fun time. Today we're taking a brief time out to go to the zoo and see some "swamp monkeys". Or at least that's what it sounded like over the din/roar of the IDW party last night. Apparently these are monkeys in the same enclosure as otters and they play together. I think I'm going at this point just to prove that what's I heard and I'm not finally losing all my hearing.

"Yes damnit! Mel said 'SWAMP MONKEYS! And there they are!'"

Update!

The Scream Like a Girl panel on Thursday has added Lucy Lawless to the line up. So what will there be more of in the audience? Xena fans or BSG fans? Listen for the ululations to find out!

After a few days of thinking about it I have come to the following conclusion: if you take The Godfather and Jaws and smush them together you get The Dark Knight.

Yep, it's that good.

Getting closer to SDCC and finalizing schedules here. I'd like to keep the signings light this year so no daily sessions as in previous years. Those looking for an autograph can check in at the DC/Vertigo booth and the IDW booth to see what times may be set up.

I have one panel scheduled called SCREAM like a Girl on Thursday 4:45 - 5:45, moderated by Kevin Smith and featuring women working in the genres of sci-fi, comics, horror and fantasy, including producer Gale Ann Hurd (Terminator 1 and 2) and actress Jaime King (Sin City and the Spirit). Should be fun.

And that's it so far. The rest of the time I plan to wander about aimlessly. See you there.

HELL WEEK!

It's one week (and a couple of days) 'till Nerd Prom, but this officially is the roughest week of the year for anyone working in this industry.  This is the time you really don't want to pester the comic creatin' folk lest you get your head torn from your shoulders.  

On top of the regular deadlines there's shopping for clothes, getting the hair done, putting together pitches, sketchbooks, updating the 'folio, printing up new batches of business cards, confirming reservations, finalizing schedules for panels, signings and interviews, writing an acceptance speech or two whilst daring to hope they get to be used and of course figuring out where the heck everyone is gonna be drinking in the evenings.

There's also quiet meditation to store up the calm you'll need need to navigate the milling masses of over a hundred thousand geeks, or to just treat your ears to the silence that will soon be shattered by that infamous roar, that nonstop, inescapable white noise permeating the convention hall, the corridors, the sidewalks, the restaurants, the hotel bars (the worst of course being the Hyatt), the pool sides and patios.  San Diego Comic Con is one of the few times of the year we get to tear ourselves from the isolation of the studio and stand around with like-minded souls chattering about everything geekster and boy do we not waste a second of it.

It is a time of excitement at seeing old friends, of sharing new ideas and old stories.  

And it is a time of dread.

Back to work here.

Bouncing back and forth between six pages, almost done.

Weird sleep issues this weekend.  Couldn't get a full night's worth for about three days in a row, only naps.  It got to one point where my body was so tired it up and decided to stop producing heat.  I was lying in bed in intermittent spasms because shivering had somehow been forgotten.  Fortunately Ian was there to snuggle up with for warmth.   Eventually it all clicked into place and I got a good block of zzzs.   Still a bit messed up by it though, and also bummed that it all kept me from my nephew's birthday party on Sunday.   I miss that little guy.   

Gonna keep it short today, work on some panels and then back to bed so I can shake this.

Saw the series 4 finale of Doctor Who this evening and I figured out what this show reminds me of: it's one of those wonderful, childhood amusement rides (y'know the really good ones you can never find as an adult) full of ups and downs, pretty lights, great music, exhilarating and scary, just damn delightful, and you get to the end and the first thing out of your grinning face is "AGAIN!"

I wonder who I can get to watch these over again with?

The office has turned into a sweat lodge.

I'm at home drawing on the couch.

Bleh.

Picked up a couple of CDs this week, currently listening to Viva La Vida by Coldplay and it's bloody beautiful.  Perfectly balanced, rich in textures and imagery and just fills your head.  Also have Sigur Ros on standby, listened to Gobbledigook in the car yesterday and loved it.

Onto book four of Death Note.  That is one addictive lil' manga.  

Meanwhile at work, started on Issue two of Doctor Who, presently on the Troughton pages.  I'm a very lucky girl.

Pub quiz tonight.  

Music I'm loving right now.

Jeffrey Lewis  (Back When I was Four)

The Wombats  (Let's Dance to Joy Division)

The Flaming Lips (Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots)

Sigur Ros

Massive Attack

Just about done with the first issue here.  After weeks of working at high gear, happy as anything, happier than I've been in ages really, the situation abruptly turned as I got to the inking stage.  It wasn't a horrible place to be, certainly not as bad as some places I've been in recent memory, but the proximity to those ugly times induced a bit of panic at first.  All the tools felt alien in my hands, and no matter how closely I studied books on their use and how other artists dealt with them, when it came down to actually using these pens and brushes and inks, I was completely flummoxed.  The most frustrating part being the speed, or extreme lack thereof.

 

It's like being on those moving sidewalks at the airport.  You're not in any hurry to catch your flight, you know you'll make it but adding a little more pep to your step makes the going feel that much better, zipping past the generic art on the walls, past other travelers, easily, breezily.

Then you hit that gap between moving sidewalks and BAM, you have catch yourself, you worry about tripping, you try to balance your teetering suitcase as the wheels catch on the carpet.  And then the world is no longer flying by, you're part of it again, and the clock is ticking.

That's inking.

It's boring, tedious, precarious and unforgiving.  Not a place I like to be.

And to go from tentative brush strokes back to steady confidence penciling the next batch of pages is not as easy as all that.  I spent most of last week stuck, staring at my board, drawing here and there but not getting into that groove, feeling the minutes and hours tick by.

I'm now getting inking help for this last set, a flashback scene, so it shouldn't disrupt the continuity.  It's a good compromise, hopefully one that will help establish some kind of truce with my brain as I learn to incorporate new skills into the routine.

Despite the hiccups, I'm really happy how it's turning out.  The colourist, Charlie Kirchoff has been sending me pages and they look amazing.  Can't wait to see this on the shiny paper stock.  It'll be one pretty book.

Holy crap!  I just found the best new snack in the whole universe!

Seaweed wrapped rice crackers!  It's like sushi and chips and rice crackers all rolled into one!  And they're friggin' ADDICTIVE!

What's making me smile tonight...

Soviet Dancers rocking out to Run DMC, found on Neatorama.

Doctor Who pages are coming along. Started inking this evening and though harrowing at first I think I'm getting it.

We got back from Seattle on Monday after a very nice weekend at the Emerald City Comic Con. Spent most of it furiously scribbling sketches but I did manage to get some time away from the table for some geek shopping and chats with good friends Moritat, Richard Starkings (up from L.A.), Gail Simone, Ed Brubaker and his wonderful wife Mel (who makes the meanest cupcake this side of the 1950s).

While there I heard this interesting bit of news (rumour perhaps?) from across the pond: apparently Russell T. Davies had this to say about our Doctor Who story which promises to feature all ten doctors: "Let them hang themselves. It can't be done."

Now some might take this as disheartening but I on the other hand see this as a wonderful challenge. Ask anyone who knows me, spite has always been a huge motivator in my life, put an obstacle in my path and I'll bust through it with ten times more verve than were there none. If I had a fire in my belly before, well now it's an inferno. And I can't be happier.

And how's this for heart-warming? Vic and I stood in line to meet Wil Wheaton and learned he's a huge fan of Y! Keeeeen!

Oh, and more Y pages are going up for sale today.

Our first 4 pages are up for offer.  Go to the Hellkitty Store to see them.

Claims should be sent to hellkitty.studios@gmail.com.

At Earl's for a late dinner this evening when we heard some banging coming from the kitchen followed by the chef shouting "DAMNIT! WHY WON'T YOU DIE!?"

Yep.

We're getting close to selling pages! Vic has offered her services and is presently scanning away on the crappy Mustek I found on e-bay. It's a good scanner, just takes a bitch of a long time to run.

Here's how it will work.

We're going to be putting up a few pages at time here on the site. What goes up is what's for sale. Period. I don't want to hear any whining about such and such a page not being up and can you please dig through all those boxes to find my dream page? Nope. The main reason being this: I don't have all the pages. Jose and I had an arrangement where a certain amount from each issue went to him and another amount to me, based on even or odd numbered issues... yep, it's complicated. So I can't tell you what pages I have here or in storage without going into the boxes themselves And yes, a few, just a few, were sold over the last few years at local shows. That doesn't mean there aren't some nice offerings here, there are plenty, just that I have deadlines and don't want to put my sister through hell right now dealing with drama.

And seriously dudes, give her any flack and you'll be dealing with me. And a girl dragged away from her good Doctor is a very angry girl indeed.

Pages will be posted here, first one to send an e-mail claim (based on the time stamp) gets it. A confirmation e-mail will be sent within 2 days with shipping and insurance costs totaled in, Paypal info etc.

Payment will be in Canadian dollars through Paypal, money order or certified cheque. Be advised, sending a personal cheque to Canada from outside the country will require 30 days to clear. That means your purchase will remain in a box near the door until that cheque clears. This will make both of us cranky so just do it the other way.

All sales are final. If you request a personalised autograph and then don't like what you get, you're hosed. If there's some kind of problem with an unpersonalised page we'll sort out how to make you happy. Please be sure to ask any questions before you agree to buy a page and we'll do our best to answer it.

There you go. Good hunting.

Friday was tax day.

Blurgh.

Just a quick note for those looking for pages to buy: I'll have some up soon. Stay tuned.

Okay, I'm back from a frustrating couple of weeks.

After that month-long flu in February, extended no doubt by the intense LA trip, followed by a nuclear stress bomb of a tour through Europe only to get sick again on the return home from London, I'd had it with everything and was very lucky to get through customs in both Seattle and Vancouver without attacking someone in a sleep-deprived, fever-ridden, back-spasming, asthma-triggered panic. The virus itself burned off pretty fast but it was still a huge, mucous-y pain in the ass. Damn near drowned in bodily fluids. And poor Vic! She caught it with lightening speed and ended up with Bronchitis! She's doing much better, antibiotics really helped.

So after a week in bed I was faced with even more stress in the form of that stubborn CBT story still not being done. Never have I found 7 pages to be so fraught with problems, made more difficult by the Doctor Who gig I was trying to start. When I worked on the short story all I wanted to do was work on Doctor Who, when I worked on Doctor Who I felt guilty for not clearing away old business and couldn't focus my energies properly. With the CBT deadline looming I took this last weekend to finish the bloody thing once and for all, and sure enough, Kinkos had to turn it into an outright nightmare...

Once the pencils were complete my plan was to scan the pages and fiddle with the levels in Photoshop thereby avoiding the hassle of inking in the smaller format. Naturally, my scanner decided to quit working and the used wide-format one I found on e-Bay last week was still en route. I called Kinkos, asked them if they had a wide-format scanner and if they could do the job that afternoon, they said sure on both counts. I had been up all night finishing the pages so I handed the set to Ian with the necessary instructions attached and went to bed at 3pm (Saturday).

I got up a couple of hours later (5pm), because, wow, my brain doesn't know when to stay asleep sometimes, Ian was back and let me know the scanning job wouldn't be done until 8am the next morning (Sunday). No idea why it takes over 12 hours to push a few buttons but okay, we'll deal with it. At around 2am I called Kinkos to see if the job can be pushed up, the best they can do is 5am. Okay, great, I'm off for a nap.

5am, I wake up to find Ian and Vic have gone to pick up the scans. I jump in the shower to get ready for a morning at the office getting the files finished.

The scans arrive and they're not TIFF files (as requested on the order) but PDFs. And oh yeah, they don't have a wide-format scanner, only a regular one so the scans had to be stitched. That's why it took them so long.

Looking at the scans in Photoshop something didn't seem right, after consulting books on colouring comics (because I'm a total noob to digital comics formats), waiting for the editor and Mark the colourist to wake up so I can ask what they think, I also learn the scans were bitmapped, in other words, they're completely useless.

Sweet Jeezus!

Lucky us, as we're working through options (it's now noon Sunday) I find out Mark is in Surrey! I arrange to drop them off after some sleep.

They're out of my hands, and on their way. Here's hoping it turns out okay.

Monday.

Eisners are announced and how stunned am I to read Jose and myself are nominated for inking/pencilling team?! We've never gotten this before! Holy shit! And how was Frank Quitely not in there? Or John Cassaday?! Regardless, there's no way in hell Chris Ware doesn't walk away with it. And yes, I'm so happy just to be nominated. Again I say "Holy Shit!"

Adding to the euphoria is the news of both Ian and myself being nominated for Shusters! Double whammy!

On my first fully devoted Doctor Who day, 6 pages laid out and feeling so damn excited, it's interesting to see how the Universe decides to toss in some humility...

On the way home, 5am, happy and eager to get back to the table, I hear something in the bushes by the front door. A lot of scrambling in the branches, clearly a raccoon, possibly two. I'm about to leave when I hear something else, a tiny, steady, distressed chirping. I carefully looked around the bushes, trying to locate the disturbing noise without running into the raccoons. Just as I'm about to give up, there it is, a yard from my foot, an injured bird, small like a chickadee only brown with a dart of bright red on her head and it's chirping in rhythm with it's fast breathing.

Oh dear.

I reach out and it has no problem with perching on my fingers. It settles into my palm, wheezing/chirping non-stop, peep-peep-peep-peep, it's head tilted heavily to one side. I bring it inside and show her to Ian. Remembering what happened the last time I tried to rescue a bird Ian tells me not to touch my face unless I want another eye infection to deal with. We decide to try for the all night animal hospital and I call Vic (she also barks at me to not touch my face). We meet up in the car, the bird seems to gain a little strength, lifting her head, fluttering slightly in my hand, still chirping in rhythm. I think maybe the heat of my hand has helped. She might make it. We drive two blocks, the bird flutters once again... and stops chirping.

I ask Vic to stop the car and turn on the light.

"She's gone."

We turn back and after parking, we all say goodbye and I find a spot in the underbrush to lay the still warm bird down.

Well fuck.