Comicbooks and Cars

When I was five years old and people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I always answered with the pat and expected response, "A lawyer or a doctor." Even at five I knew that these were professions that were valued by our society. Of course, this was also the mid-1970s so the idea that a girl would even dream of such things was worth a pat on the head of approval.

But, what I really wanted to be when I grew up was a comic book artist.

I loved superhero comic books as a kid. I still do. I stopped reading some time during college because I couldn't afford all the titles I wanted to read. My cousin Laun was the big collector. He had the classic basement full of titles and we used to pretend to be Superman (him) and Aquaman (yeah, whatever--in the 70s he had cool hair;) Cyclops (him) and Angel (me); Captain America (him) and Hawkeye (me); and Spider-Man (him) and Johnny Storm/Human Torch (me.) I kind of had the sassy side-kick/BFF thing down. I did ocassionally branch out and play more tough-guys like Mon-El and Lightning Lad (from the Legion of Superheroes) but I tended to fall for secondary characters with good hair and attitude.

Hmmmm, a trend?

At any rate, at age five... and frankly, at age forty-five, I had no idea how a person even went about BECOMING a professional comicbook artist (or, now that I've discovered a secondary talent for writing, which overtook my first,) a comicbook writer. Even at an early age, my cousin and I realized that PEOPLE did this work. We knew because there were always letters in the back of comicbooks that were answered by Stan Lee himself or whomever was writing or writing/drawing a particular arc/series. We even had some early favorites Jack Kirby (of course, though Laun was a far bigger fan of Kirby's blocky style), Mike Grell, John Byrne, etc.

But, like with writing, there's no clear career path for a comic book artist. Probably I could have found one. I did, eventually, figure out how to sell my writing. But, I was lucky in that, in the Twin Cities, there's this place called the Loft where a person can take classes on the how-tos of not only CRAFT, but also the business of writing. I entirely credit the Loft class in science fiction/fantasy for my first sale. John Hartnett, my instructor, was exceedingly useful in showing us how to find markets and how to submit to them. All that seemed hidden behind a cloak of invisiblity when I was first starting out. That's part of why, even now, I ALWAYS include a how-to sell-that-stuff-you-just-wrote section in my class.

So, you know how, for a lot of people, published authors are rockstars?

Well, for me, comic book artists/writers are the REAL rockstars!

Which brings us to the story I want to tell. Last year when I was a guest at CONvergence, there was a Marvel movie panel that rocked the house. One of the people on it was Christopher Jones. I just remember walking off that panel feeling almost HIGH, because we were all just in-tune and the audience seemed likewise and it was just, just... AWESOME. Recently, I got a chance to reconnect with Chris at MarsCON when we were on the "Women in Comicbook Fandom" panel. To say we hit it off would be... one of those understatement things. We hung out in the downstairs bar/lounge with a few of my other friends and I think several times I looked around to see glazed over eyes when Chris and I would be still going on in loud, excited voices (he tells me we weren't "yelling,") about super-geeky comicbook moments and/or references.

At any rate, the con ended with the traditional exchange of business cards and a promise to try to connect outside of con. I thought, possibly, that that would be the end of it. I'd have a new Facebook/Twitter friend and lah-tee-dah. But, no! Chris actually got ahold of me and we MADE PLANS!

In fact, he offered to show me his studio and to share some ACTUAL SCRIPTS written by REAL comic book writers.

I pretty much thought I'd died and gone to heaven. Because do you even KNOW that Chris has DRAWN NOT ONLY FOR MARVEL BUT FOR THE AVENGERS????!!!!

He's probably better known for his work on DC's Young Justice and his four year long stint on the Batman title... and locally, you're likely know Chris as the designer and artist of Connie, the robotic interface of CONvergence. But STILL... How f*cking awesome is he??

Answer: SUPER-f*cking awesome.

Here he is, in situ, in the "Riker pose" (he will probably hate me for having chosen this one, claiming the pose is not flattering, but I think he looks cute.)


We talked for a couple of hours ostensibly about how a person becomes a comic book writer (because, hey, why not?) and how the process works from script to final product. He showed me the cool old way that people used to have to color individual panels and showed off some work of his. We looked through scripts and talked about what kinds of things a writer needs to think about when composing a panel in their head and other mechanics of his job. I'm pretty sure I sat there were stars in my eyes and only managed to make happy, babbly sounds, but did I meantion he DRAWS FOR MARVEL AND DC AND OMG, OMG!

Go check out his art here: http://gallery.christopherjonesart.com/

So, I don't know what I'm going to do with all this information. I'm not sure, at the moment, I have any ideas that would easily lend themselves to a comic book/graphic novel format, but, damn. I could hardly pass up an opportunity to hang out with a rockstar comic book artist and pick his brains.

I'm really hoping we'll have a chance to do it again, because, even without the rockstar cred, Chris is a nifty guy. In fact, we had a blast talking about the insider gossip on all the upcoming Marvel movies and fantasizing about various possible storylines.

This is all tempered by the fact that yesterday, as I was driving to pick up Mason at school, a really nice lady pulled up beside me and informed me I had a flat tire in the back. I thanked her profusely (and may have accidentally called her 'hon') and was able to pull into the gas station at the corner to see what was going on. I filled it up with air and listened for a massive blow-out, but, since it seemed to hold pressure, I drove both Mason and Shawn home on it (and took it to martial arts.) This morning, I went and checked. Sure enough, it was a slow leak and the sucker was flat again at 6:00 am this morning. I called AAA and they were out and filled it up for us by quarter to 7:00 am. I got everyone where they needed to go and had replaced the tire at Discount Tire by 9:00 am. Now, I'm taking a quick break before deciding if I need to deal with the clunking (which the AAA guy thought was probably struts) still TODAY or if I should just wait until tomorrow morning and take it to the shop first thing.

I was thinking of a compromise--that I'd go off to shop and see how busy they were today and ask them about how long they thought it would take, if it turns out to, indeed, be the struts. Probably that's what I'll do. Tonight is my writers' group and I'd like to go, and that'd be harder without a car. I'm sure one of the St. Paul Wyrdsmiths would offer a ride if I asked nicely, but I'd rather drive myself IF I CAN, you know?

Okay, that's all the news that's fit to print. Until next time, True Believers!

Car Update

I don't normally post twice a day like this, but OMG.

Here's how my day started. At 6:00 am, I woke up and discovered that the flat tire that the lady told me about yesterday had reappeared. Luckily, I thought to shuffle out there in my PJs and take a look, so I could be on the phone to AAA by 6:05 am. They got a driver out here by 7:00 am, and he'd filled my tire for free by 7:15 am. I'd gone to the trouble of hauling out the spare for him, but it snowed. Were we expecting this? And, anyway, the AAA guy said he'd seen a bunch of spin outs on the highway, and thought that, if I didn't have to, since it was clearly a slow leak, I should just drive on a REAL tire instead of "that doughnut" he kept calling the spare.

I was feeling good about this, because everyone got to school and work on time.

I drove right to the tire place next and was EXTREMELY pleased that my tires were all under warranty still. So, I got a brandnew tire FOR FREE.

While waiting, I walked up to Target because they have a Starbucks inside and I thought: I need coffee (I really hadn't had much time to make my own.) I ran into a friend of mine that I went to college with who was working as a barista there. She introduced me to her co-worker as "a famous author." I never know what to do with that moniker, because to me, fame requires that someone has actually HEARD OF YOUR WRITING. I don't mind being introduced as a writer or even "a published writer," but that addition of "famous" is always embarrassing. At any rate, I told her that while I appreciated the sentiment I really thought fame was a fickle mistress and I didn't think of myself as ALL THAT.

Car done, I got home. As I noted below, my back end has been clunking. It got significantly worse yesterday when I hit one of those huge potholes on Fairview. It was so loud that it was freaking out Shawn. So, I agreed to consider going straight from the tire shop to the car repair shop. I didn't exactly do that. I came home for a while, squeed about Chris (see below) and fed the cats and took out the recycling and the garbage and called the repair shop. I was curious how long struts (if that was the problem) would take. They said they could get me in right away and that it would only take a couple of hours.

A trip to the car shop requires a rather long trudge back home in the snow. We only have one car. And, while buses can get me to the car shop, it actually takes a kind of crazy route that involves three transfers. The repair shop is on Wheeler (South), but it's literally a straight walk back to my house with a two block detour around the highway.

This is normally a pleasant experience. Even in the dead of winter, I find the walk to be pretty breezy and not terribly hasslish.

Today, thanks to that light dusting of snow and the warm/cold snaps we've been having, I must have slid on hidden ice A THOUSAND AND ONE TIMES. I counted. I went down on my a$$ FIVE times today. And, while I'm grateful for the opportunity to show off my amazing kuk sool wan ability to do so without suffering a concussion, I am officially DONE WITH THIS SH*T. What annoys me in particular is that *I* got up and shoveled this morning. Yes, my sidewalk has become a somewhat narrow strip, but it's still completely ice free and passable. What I want to know is when did it become socially acceptable not to bother to shovel a mere quarter inch of snow? ESPECIALLY when there's hidden patches of ice underneath?

And, worse, on my slippery, trecherous walk home I got the call from the shop. Yep, it's the struts. It'll cost you neary $800 bucks.

I think they're ripping me off. But, you know, I called them back after Shawn did a quick internet search and asked them about the price. They made a pretty good song and dance routine about rust and missing bolts and how the whole back end needed repairs that I ultimately BOUGHT. But, I'm going to have to have wheel bearings done in the front soon and I'm shopping around, damn it. I hate the idea, because I've been faithfully going to this shop (Wheeler Grand Sinclair 1) for YEARS, since before Mason was born, in fact. So, really over a decade.

But, damn. Crap like this is going to break us.

I think I could have coped better if I didn't end up falling on my butt so often! Anyway, fingers crossed that they'll actually finish up before I need to pick up Mason from school.