Thursday, November 4, 2010

Conceiving Hannibal

So, for this next thing, I just wanted to write a few words and begin to think of how to charcaterize Hannibal by writing from his perspective. Plus, I may entertain the thought of writing from my main charcater's POV rather than a 3rd person omniscient.

I was being crushed.

Intense pressure permeated the museum. Something big is in here. Ambient energy tends to flow into me. It is how I make with the magic. The amount of juice flowing into my body, now, felt like I was an empty swimming pool being filled by a tidal wave. The nearest I can think of experiencing such a presence was being close to my teacher, Damonlark. I could feel a small ache in my body as the power flowed into me from its source. The problem here is that I can feel it crashing all over me. The whole building could be the source of this disturbance.

I can't tell how much ambient power there is. Reaching the point of equilibrium with such a large amount of energy tends to take a while. If whatever is permeating this building has an external source of magical power, then there is no limit to how much energy I'll be swallowing. I quickly began to scan my surroundings.

My ability to use magic may depend on how much magical energy is being brought into the room, but I'll always have my eidictic memory. The walls of the museum were lined with the fossils of long dead creatures. Nothing too big, perhaps a few trilobytes, some plant impressions, and dinosaur footprints. Up on the roof, though, hung the fossilized remains of a prehistoric fish the size of a shark. In the center of the room were the remains of a few dinosaurs about the size or slightly bigger than a normal human. No massive monsers here.

The only people around the room were a few police officers taking a break from the investigation into the stolen viking horde. Someone who I can only assume is a top level museum employee is with a few of the officers too. She's asking a few questions, trying to determine how much longer the investigation may take until the building can start to be repaired.

No one seems to be paying any mind to the swelling mystical pressure inside the room. It figures. Even magicly attuned people can't normally tell who's a practicer of the arts and who is not, let alone determine how strong a person really is. Reputation and shows of force tend to be the best barometers. So that makes me an exception, and I can quickly find out if I'm getting in over my head or not. A problem though is when I'm being a bit overwhelmed, like now, I'll begin to act a bit wobbly.

My body heaves slightly, and sweat begins to form on my brow. The power is still rising within me and I don't think I'll be reaching a balance with what is in the room soon. One of the officers come sover to check on me as I stumble a bit around the room. Its not a great way to show that you belong in such a situation. "Hey Hannibal, losing your nerve?"

I respond, "Bad eggs, kid." I'm turning into a canary in a coal mine. That wasn't why I was brought here, but that's the situation as its standing. 

A few more peple walk into the room. It looks like a reporter and a police officer. The thumping of my heart and throbing in my head aren't giving me a chace to catch the conversation.

I can feel a shift, now. The power int he room is beginning to coalesce into something. Its shrinking down to a spot, but it isn't getting any weaker. At least now I can follow where its going if I wasn't busy about to fall over onto the floor.

This exerience has taught me the best way to pull everyone towards you and away from possible danger is to feign a heart attack. Almost every person in the room stops to come look at the guy convulsing and groaning. That gives me a chance to try and check how the energy is moving. Gasping for breath, I attempt to use some of the power gathering in me to erect a wall of force around the people puzzling over my reaction to broken walls and debris. Obviously I'm very distraught over this. I'm way too self conscious, but I like to display a bit of competence in being able to leave my apartment.

Thankfully my episode begins to subside. I can still feel the magic in the room, but it feel slike my body is growing accustomed to the amount of power coming at me. I can breathe a bit mor esteady as I begin to consciously listen to the questiosn being asked me. One of the museum people is askign me, "Do you need to go to a hospital? How'd you get in here?"

My mouth hadn't caugh up to the rest of my body. Strain can make me say the darndest things. I good old incoherent, "Uwaaaaaah?" escapes my lips, certifying that, yes, I may in fact be slow to the res tof the people aroudn me. Just some guy with no sense who stumbled into the room. Thanks mysterious super magical presence. You've ruined my chance to talk to any of the fine women here. I can't wait to hear the rumors.

Just as I was finished chastizing myself for having an allergic reaction to massively strong sources of power, I noticed where the energy was beginning to really settle into the room. I released some of the stored energy in my body in a wave of force, blowing fossils and relics across the room into the wall. Mouths gasp i shock at what is happening but I begin to stagger up. A few "Om my!"s echo through the room, some wide eyed surprise from a few of the cops looks to me and back at the wall, the reporter was a bit blow away by the force I made. However, it didn't tae long for people to see what I was feeling. Screams began to erupt around me as 3 sets of dinosaur bones rise from the mess across the room, recomposing themselves from the debris I shattered them into. The creatures shook themselves as if they were shaking off dirt, and turned their eyeless heads in my direction. People in the room began to run out as I was able to stand again. One of the officers was pulling on my arm, trying to drag me out. I casually shrugged him off, telling him "No, its fine. I got next."

I approached the three starting with a stagger, but everntually into a cautious advance. They begin to curiously watch my movements through their empty skulls, then began to slowly circle around me.

Friday, October 15, 2010

Hannibal's room

A sudden cold spreads across Hannibal Moxy's faces. He rises in surprise. His eyes a wide and anxious. He sucks in breathes of air and his heart thumps a 100 beats a minute. He lifts ahand to wipe the water from his face and casts a few quick glances over his surroundings. To his right is John Forbush, an old friend from school.
Hannibal spits a few bits of water out of his mouth, and asks, "Jesus, John. What'd you do that for?"
John Forbush grabs a chair, and sits down, placing the empty water jug on a night stand next to Hannibal's bed. John replies, "Asking nicely wasn't working."
John takes a sweepign look across the room. Littered around the floor are diagrams of circles and mathematical equations about them. He can barely understand them all but is troubled by what he sees. John asks, "Hannibal, what have you been doing all this time?"
Hannibal rises off the bed and stretches. He is not sure how long he has been asleep but he can feel the suns rays beating through the windows. He reckons it must be 10 or 11 in the morning. "Damon left me here after school. Says the ambient magic in the area can keep me powered for how ever long I need it. The circles are my pet project."

God I feel like I can do so much more with this. I just wanted to ge tsomethign on paper so I can mull it over and really work on it in the future. IDK if I want to keep his name John Forbush, but I needed a placeholder. I need more detailed setting information. I've been reading about voice and person, too recently, and how if I use third person, I should always keep it trained on one person at least for the chapter, and not use it to examine whats going through another character's head. I know i've used the 3rd person to talk abotu Hannibal and John's feelings in this brief write up.

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Enter the Moxy

The doors blow off the hinges of the front entrance to the Brothel. A dazzling array of lights glide through the main lobby of the building, bathing the area in hues of green, yellow, red, and blues. A small band plays in a darkened corner. The sounds of the cello thumps in tune with Hannibal's heart. The trumpet plays a wild tune as the player is shocked by the abrupt entrance. The remaining members of the band fall silent.

In the back of the sits Lars. His legs are splayed and head lolls the the right side as two ladies attend to his body. He is not dressed in any sort of battle gear that most people identify him in. However, Hannibal can feel the power of the immortal viking press against him like a sweltering summer heat. 

The blast of unseen force Hannibal used to annihilate the doors dies down. His overcoat drifts ad wafts into a settled position. Hannibal tenses his body, waiting to see Lars' first move. He is not eager for a fight to erupt yet. He wants to allow as much time as possible to elapse, and allow his body to absorb as much ambient mystical enegies as possible.

Lars lifts his lazy head, curious to examine the man who interrupts his quiet time. Lars snaps his fingers and the band resumes their play. The tune is more exciting. The beat is faster and the lights begin to slowly coalesce around Hannibal. The room grows dimmer as the wisps of light are absorbeed into Hannibal.

Some of the working women in the lobby begin to move to the walls. A shocked look in their faces. The darkness begins to creep into the room from the edges towards Hannibal. Lars sits up attentively, looking about himself and watching the light in the room receed towards Moxy. Before he is enveloped into darkness his eyes meet Hannibals, and his mouth breaks into a shape a wolf makes when snarling at an enemy. Then, darkness.

Its silent until lights sine along the wall. Torches illuminate the room and show Hannibal and Lars standing nose to eye of each other. Hannibal notices the Viking is tall, lean, and muscled. Lars' face showed a few days growth of facial hair. His red hair was long and shiny. His voice is smooth. Hannibal was surprised how civilized this man seemed. 

I'm not doing so well, thinking of dialog. :(

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Before the fight.

Hannibal could feel the shadows crowd around him. The denizens of the unseen darkness want to be privy to a fight between the unusual magician and the underworlds most noted thug. Hannibal knew they were accomplices in Lars destruction in the museum. However, he felt their alien reasoning didn't make them accountable for their part in this mess. He could easily understand. Hannibal feels his own thought processes are alien to this town. He experienced things that no normal person in this world has experienced. He brought a set of core values and beliefs that are constantly questioned by the peculiar way things are done in Everton. With a smirk he resolved to give these dark beings a show for their entertainment.

He could feel the power radiating from Lars' hideout. Proximity to power tells Hannibal what he needs to know. Lars is a powerful entity on a level Hannibal has only experienced once before. He spends a few moments, in order to savor the ambient energy and allowing it to flow into his form.  He is now fueled for the fight and swallows a gulp of air, unsure of the outcome. 

SO, I might be able to extend this scene a bit farther. IDK if I want to do such a thing. I know Ihavent gone into who Lars is or what his hideout actually is. My goal in this writing was to get back on the horse and establich a shot of a coming battle. I wanted to attempt to signify that other forces are interested in this figh besides Hannibal and his Antagonist. I wanted to indicate that Hannibal feels like an outside in the world he exists. I also wanted to set up how formidable a foe Lars, the Antagonist, is.

Saturday, September 4, 2010

Hey lookit what I found!

Dusty here, remember me? I was the other out of shape, slightly awkard Nerdking on the Pop Media Primecast. Since the show rode into the bittersweet sunset, I've been wading through a murky swamp filled with overbearing responsibility that was made up of 2 parts part-time jobs, 1 part college courses and 3 parts maintianing social life. Well one of those jobs rode into its own chaotic sunflare a few weeks back, I'm wrapping up my self-appointed sentence at Community College in December, and one part of that social life is leaving for the military in a few weeks. So needless to say I now have more time to focus on what was a recurring theme for me throughout the Primecast's golden run, evolving into an established writer.

Dom suggested I pool some of my ideas on this Bloggy-thingy (Scott Pilgrim reference) so you folks can critique and/or instigate a flame war against them. I see he's been busy with his own works, so it looks like I've got some catching up to do. First up I'm going to offer a synopsis of a script I worked on during the show's run. Its about a British metal band as it tours across Eurasia to promote its nomination for induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, instead of their career long rivals. Here is an excerpt of The Ballistacrats.

Black. The crowd roars. Over the loudspeaker an announcer yells, "Alright Moscow we want you to go fucking nuts as we bring you the metallic gods...the sirens of solos...the demigods of distortion...the sophisticated savagery that is, The Ballistacrats!" Fade in; panning over the audience leading to a large stage, it fires pyrotechnics like a warship as ERNIE V. pounds on his drums. A soothing bass groove, followed by a screeching guitar riff mix in as SONNY PAUL and PERRY LOU rise from the stage floor. A low growl summons a ring of fire at center stage and JACQUES LeRAGE jumps out of the ring in a furious yell as the band leads into its biggest hit to date, "Spread Eagle."

Security frantically barricades fans from rushing the stage. One woman manages to break free and tackles Sonny. She introduces herself as AMANDA, and claims to be his biggest fan. He jokes, "Sorry babe, but she's my biggest fan." He points out a rather large hambeast of a woman covered in tattoos and piercings screaming at the top of her lungs. Amanda laughs and lunges at Sonny's face before he stops her, asking to delay the impromtu meet and greet until after show, he needs to return to the song. She enthusiastically nods and trots backstage in a giddy frenzy. The rest of the concert becomes lost in a haze of sex, drugs and rock and roll.

Back at the band's tour bus, a television set plays an MTV News segment. Reporter SWAY reports that the upcoming Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction Ceremony will be postponed until the Nomination Comittee can decide on who takes the final spot of this year's induction class, which include Kiss, Thin Lizzy, Lodon Wainwright and in a surprise decision, Zydeco act Wayne Toups. The final spot is currently being debated over two legendary metal acts, The Ballistacrats and their career long rivals, Jack Union.

At the very utterance of that name Ernie V. hurls one of his drumsticks at the television, breaking it. He exclaims as he rises from a chair, "Jack Union? Fuck those wankers!" The rest of the band agrees, except for Sonny, who is locking lips with the groupie from earlier. They stop for a moment so Sonny can assure Ernie V. that he shouldn't worry. "If the band doesn't make the cut, they're is always next year." Ernie V. turns and directs his anger at Sonny by throwing his other drumstick at him. Sonny in a panic grabs Amanda ans shields himself, the drumstick hitting her in the eye. She slaps Sonny and storms out of the bus, crossing paths with SAUL McGUINNESS, the band's manager. He sees her storm out, sighs and enters the bus.

So this is a bit of the beginning. It basically sets the plot in place and establishes the cast of characters, both protag and antag. This is the most recent draft of the story and I'll add more when I happen again on this site. Hope you enjoy it as much as I've enjoyed writing it.

Friday, August 20, 2010

Comics for August 17, 2010

It must mean I have nothing new to add to the budding story. Lets look at what literature I bought this weeks.

Justice Society of America #42
I had a cousin ask me how I can jumble aroudn the 20-30 comic book storylines I must follow every month. I tell him it is rather easy as long as the story is entertaining. He asked me what if I don't remember it. I told him "Then, I drop the book." I'm getting in that zone with this JSA/JLA crossover, right now.

Want more reason than that? All I can say is that I don't care for what James Robinson is doing in this crossover. If I can't be bothered to mentally file away the previous month's books, then I can't be bothered to buy this book. BMB was getting like that with me on New Avengers, but I probably blame that on his penache to not write in chronological order. Reading Avengers during the whole Secret Invasion story was just a pain. Especially when I didn't know until 3 months into the event that it was going on.

Hulk #24
Ed McGuinness draws beautiful Hulks. Meanwhile, I can't help but marvel at the difference in attitude in Bruce Banner between Pak's writing and Loeb's. I'm not qualifying it, I'm just drawing attention to Pak's Bruce Banner who wants to wholly deny the Hulk versus Loeb's more responsably reluctant Hulk. Loeb's Banner definitely embraces his Hulk more than Pak's does.

Shadowland: Daughters of the Shadow #1
I was pretty entertained with this Colleen Wing book. I was wondering what happened to her when she didn't show up in Blood on the Streets.

Shadowland: Power Man #1
Before buyign this I was pretty much willing to give anything by FVL a try. After this, I'm still willing to give anything FVL writes a try.

The New Avengers #3
When Bendis seems to bring a group of people together everyone speaks in the same voice. His ability to wield dialog does not shine until he has to focus on just one charcater, like Iron Fist in the white room.

Darkwing Duck #3
Sad to see Taurus Bullba be the big bad. Needs more Negaduck.

Brightest Day #8
I have a fist pump for Hawkman. I'm hoping the book is making a turn from its directionless beginning issues. Now, at least, the issue of the new Martian is being addressed, and it seems Black Manta will also, finally, be given some more time in the next book. Plus, I didn't have to read any more of Firestorm or Aquaman's whining.

Deadpool #26
This book did not seem to be 22 pages long. It felt like 12. Now I have to decifer if it was really needed. It just gives me this feel like Way painted himslf into a corner, storywise, with the last issue and had no way to resolving the fact Deadpool has a 9-5 job as a hero in Vegas in a really entertaining fashion. Yes, I'm saying this book was not entertaining. After a short fight with Ghost Rider there is another rehashing of Deadpool's origin, and that means another person's interpretation of the origin's of Wade Wilson. If Deadpool was actually a charcater that people hung onto every continuity bump in his past, like Wolverine's, he'd have as confusing an origin as Hawkman. So, thanks, Daniel, for giving us another story in the origin of Wade Wilson. It is not like you couldn't have filled the book up with a longer, funnier fight against Ghost Rider.

Uncanny X-Men #527
I don't have much to say about this except that the art is terrible.

Green Lantern Corps #51
This issue really revels in deaths. It is kind of sad to say that. i know I've had problems with the Alpha Lanterns as charcaters because I generaly don't like reading about people giving up their humanity to do a job. So, if this is the reaction that the GL writing teams has been trying to evoke since the introduction of the Alpha Lanterns, it has been accomplished. I just wish it did not have to involve so much death, as well.

Averngers Academy #3
This has been a remarkable book. I just kind of wish Gage did not lay the teenage skepticism/sarcasm/rebelliousness on so thick. It makes characters like Hazmat, Finesse, and Stryker unlikeable, to me, and when he confirms their attitudes towards the way the heroes treat them, it makes the academy heads seem like clueless buffoons.

Sad face :( for turning Speedball into a cutter.

Thunderbolts #147
And here we now see that basic title crossovers are trying to make it so that you don't have to buy the other books in the crossover to get a complete story. I really find that rather annoying.  

DV8: Gods and Monsters #5
My favorite of the week. Then again, I was solidly in the tank for Warren Ellis' DV8 run in the mid 90s. This issue was a bit different than the others as it spotlights on two charcaters instead of one. Also, Brian Wood juxtaposes the fates of the two characters as they satisfy different roles in the tribe that kidnapped both of them. Sublime is elevated into the status of a goddess, while Evo is demoted into the status of carnival freak. I guess if you wanted to show that not everyone was happy being on the mystery world, someone had to get picked on, and, really, Evo is a bit of a whipping boy for the whole team. Just another solid book in "High School Drama with Caveman Armies".

Fables #97
Another solid book. And, hopefully, this spells the end of the nearly year long diversion from the looming threat of Mr. Dark.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Moving along

Catherine bounces an idea off him, “Maybe I can do a story about the people out in the woods and how they have to co-exist with the power-dome. You know if this technology will do anything about the soil blightening that has been spreading from the city into the valley?”

Martin shakes his head, “It’s only going to try and pull more energy out of the geothermic dome. All that means is probably more soot in the air and more dead trees. Woodford doesn’t care about who lives down in the valley. If you want personal stories, you should do a write up on a Privateer.”

Catherine scoffs at the thought. “You gotta find one that is personable. They’re hardly human or just live in their own fantasy world.”

“Perhaps you could find one whose fantasy includes a girl like you?”

She recoils in mock horror, pointing a finger from one of her carefully cared for hands at him. “Evil man! I shall nothave my honored sullied in such a way!” She quickly finishes her coffee and stands off the couch. She wags a finger in Brandt’s face and begins to back away from him. “You will not invite such ill portents in my presence. Good day to you, sir” before she winks, turns, and walks back up the stairs.

Catherine was certain that Wallace has had plenty time to calm down from thrashing about his favored photographer. She opened the door into the Alarm’s offices to see Hines sweeping up the debris from the earlier tirade, and notice the silhouette of Wallace changing his attire into something drier.

The offices of the Sunderville Alarm would generally be considered spacious, for any business located inside. Wallace was the only editor for the publication, and employed eight typists to generate stories for the 4 page daily in addition to any news that is transmitted via the World News Telegraph Wire, which is transmitted straight to layout editor, Mike James’, desk. Catherine sits besides Mike and Marshton in a row of four typists, their desks facing towards a small alley created with the four desks of the other writers for the Alarm. In the back of the office is a small printing press which Mike operates with the help of Martin, and now Catherine begins to realize how many people whose first names begin with the letter “M”. She shakes her head in slight embarrassment and smiles at how she can marvel at something so trivial.

Once at her desk she notices a curious sight. Atop her work area is a plain package addressed to her. Looking around to notice if anyone is watching her for their amusement and determining that no one is, she grabs the package and tears it open. Inside is a letter addressed to her, along with old newspaper clippings. She dumps the contents onto the table and scans them over. The message is written on the letterhead Sturm museum. The clippings were stories in Norwegian and Swedish about a Viking treasure horde known as the Sigmund Horde and the message asks that she interview the horde’s discoverer, Andersson Sigmund.

A few posts ago I trie dmy hand at doing this, and found it way too clunky. So lets see how the rewrite goes. Right off the bat I feel like I should be more descriptive of the Sunderville Alarm's offices and play up the mystery package.

Friday, August 13, 2010

Catherine has to lie down, again

Catherine decided now was a time to get up and walk out before debris finds itself in her auburn hair and all over her new attire. She put her arms through her grey jacket’s sleeves, shuffles her papers together, and places them in her desk to protect them in case Woodford creates another small storm in the office. She whispers a short phrase into the ear of Marshton Brandt, “Coffee Break” and hurredly moves out of the offices of the tabloid paper and down the stairs into the common lobby of the Campman Building.

The Campman Building is nestled between the Armstrong hotel and grocer on Fullman Avenue. On the second floor is the Sunderville Alarm. The third floor houses the offices of ward #8 representative Cameron Lager and a small investment firm, Manos-Taurus. The fourth floor was unknown to Catherine. She hadn’t met anyone that works up there, nor did she have the curiosity to go snooping around there. The common lobby of the building is decorated all around with furnishings from the east: Persian rugs, Ottomans, and Japanese fire-lamps. Shelves of throw away books line the walls, along with pictures of building proprietors and famous events captured in the news. A small kitchen and wait staff is maintained by the owner, Joseph Campman, to cater to the business tenants. Catherine finds a reclining couch near a far off corner, waving off an approaching waiter. She removes her jacket, exposing her deep red blouse. She lies down in the couch, frees her feet from the pointed flats she wears everyday to work, and begins to collect her thoughts and compose herself for the remainder of the day.

Catherine Faber had hoped for a chance to make a mark in the career of news reporting. For years women have begun to assert themselves in several literary fields. Mary Wollstonecraft’s Letters from Norway was a major inspiration for her. She wanted to write stories about society and the average person’s existence in the city. She wanted to be a champion for the normal person and show that people like her could lead fantastic lives. Yet, editors like Woodford prefer stories in the style of Mary Shelley. News was being overrun by outrageous accounts of mad scientists and the consequences of their dalliances with dabbling in mastering the God’s domains. Newsprints follow the idea that where there’s magic, it’s fantastic. Catherine is dismayed that mundane life had become so menial.

A second body sits at the foot of the couch. With delicate hands Marshton Brandt rubs Catherine’s feet, eliciting a purr from her lips. “5 more minutes” she says.

Brandt stops manipulating her feet and motions to a waiter. “2 cups of Colombian. Milk and sugar in one. Black the other.”

As the waiter leaves Catherine teases Brandt. “So, I’m going to be used as a way for you to obscure the fact you can’t take your coffee without a few additives.”

“You are my beard.”

Catherine runs a hand over his face, “Could you even grow one? I wonder what you’d look like with a mustache.”

Brandt cocks his head askew, asking, “Would you want me to wear something like Woodford had last year?”

Catherine erupts with glee, placing a hand against her chest to catch her breath as she giggles maniacly, “Oh god, no! That little broomshaped thing under the nose? Martin, don’t you ever do that!” Catherine tossles his short blonde hair destroying the part he put in it on the right side of his head. Martin begins to slump down in embarrassment. His shirt just drapes over his body. Catherine can tell how thin is he underneath his black, button-down, pocketed shirt. He likes to leave his shirt untucked a bit, as it gives him a sense that he has a larger frame than he really does.

Martin muses, “Perhaps I’ll grow out my sideburns and let my hair grow long.”

When the coffee comes in, Martin offers to cover the cost of both their cups, which Catherine gladly accepts. She put her feet back into their shoes and both her and Brandt sit side by side in the couch, silently sipping their drinks.

Catherine is pensive about returning upstairs. She has not had the chance to develop any real story for the next edition of the paper. It has been over a week since she could turn in anything she felt was up to Woodford’s standards. The last thing she wanted was to find her way into Wallace’s sights. Attempting to make conversation she asks Martin, “Have you gotten any leads you haven’t been able to follow up on, lately?”

Martin shakes his head no and lets out a deep breath. “I’ve only got my own lead. I’ve been working on a story about new advances to help extract more energy out of the volcano dome. The new director has been on a media blitz about this technology.”

Catherine whines to him, “Maybe I can do a story about the people out in the woods and how they have to co-exist with the power-dome. You know if this technology will do anything about the soil blightening that has been spreading from the city into the valley?”

Martin shakes his head, “It’s only going to try and pull more energy out of the geothermic dome. All that means is probably more soot in the air and more dead trees. Woodford doesn’t care about who lives down in the valley. If you want personal stories, you should do a write up on a Privateer.”

Catherine scoffs at the thought. “You gotta find one that is personable. They’re hardly human or just live in their own fantasy world.”

“Perhaps you could find one whose fantasy includes a girl like you?”

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Double Thursday all the Way

I redid my introductiont o Catherine by giving Walace and Martin a bit of a back and forth. I wanted to provide some charcaterization of the two while also giving them dialogue so that I don't have to explain everything about them in narration. I assume that's a good thing, right?

Wallace Woodford was summoning a storm. Catherine Faber could hear objects bouncing off the walls. The door to Woodford’s office would rattle and creak as it almost blows off its hinges. Wallace had a habit of generating tornados in localized areas when angered. Catherine moved to keep her head down to her desk, sitting behind her Guttenberg Moveable Type-Writer among the remainder of the Sunderville Alarm’s writing pool.

The door could no longer resist the active forces behind it. It flies off its hinges. Papers, plants, pencils, and photographer Martin Hines burst out of the room. Wallace marches out of his office afterwards, swearing and pointing an accusatory finger at Hines. “Entirely tedious! These pictures don’t pop! All you got is a chimp with a smile and giving a thumbs up.”

Martin was sprawled out among a pile of papers, potting soil, and office supplies. He sits up off the wooden floor. “I’m sorry Mr. Woodford, but intelligent super apes that act like normal people tend to act like normal people. Rocky’s not some sort of menace to society. There’s no angle to play up”

Wallace snorts and yells, “Why couldn’t you have it dressed up in a suit or something! Outfit it in imperial military dress! Make it look like this Ape is from our future, and our future is murderous soldiers who subsist on a diet of plantains!”

Martin picks himself off the ground, “Sir, the monkey doesn’t own any clothes. Plus, whose imperial clothes do we dress it in: Germany, Japan, or England’s? I don’t think it’ll be a good idea to equate a country with monkeys, regardless if they are highly evolved animals from the future.”

Wallace’s face contorts into ragefilled menace as he unleashes a rebuttal to his prized photographer, “Newspapers don’t start wars! If the Queen of England reads our paper-“

“King, now, Sir.”

Wallace pauses briefly. “She’s now a man?”

Martin matter of factly states, “She felt her body was too immodest. The female form does nothing but inflame the passions of the opposite sex.”

Wallace yells into his typing pool. “Who wrote our story on the Sex-changing Queen!?”

Comics for August 11, 2010

Incredible Hulk #611
I want to, first, comment on how this crossover was organized. For 6 months you could avoid having to pick up both books, Incredible Hulk or Hulk. The crossover did not hinge on you reading both books. Honestly, I don't enjoy crossovers built like that. Each month I'd pick up two books that had no direct tie to each other. Any information I learned in one book I could not completely transport to the other. I guess I like it when my crossover books operate similar to "Second Coming". Each chapter advanced the story and you had to read each book to get the whole story.

The theme of family resonated strongly in me from this book. I enjoyed how the heroes in WWH, essentially, relive bad memories of the past while hulking out. We all knew how the Hulk's mind worked before, though, and where his rage comes from. What was nice was the story about Banner's relationship with his dad and how it is an analogy for how Hulk and Skaar interact shifts the representation of Banner's father between Hulk and Skaar and shows how a fractured mind can interpret events through memory and constantly assign new roles to people given the relativety of the current situation.

Finally, Pak's afterward was a great send off to this whole event.

Birds of Prey #4
Even Hank Hall is tired of Brightest Day, now.

Daredevil #509
Here we have the Siege/Blackest Night way of doing a crossover. There's the main Shadowland title, and then the tie-ins act as satellites that fill in small gaps in story in the prior book. Nice to see Typhoid Mary is all aboard the Matt Murdock Ninja Express.

Shadowland:Blood on the Streets #1
My thoughts as the story goes on: Who's the Shroud? Wheres Paladin? Misty Knight really doesn't want to do work. Where's Paladin? That strip club is really going to hurt themselves in the long run w/o the Lesbian demographic. Where's Paladin? More Shroud! :(

Oh, there's Paladin :)

Justice League: Generation Lost #7
At least Rocket Red is funny.

Ultimate Avengers 3 #1
3rd panel on page 3, Blade looks like Professor X, as played by Wesley Snipes.

Titans #26
Oh god why do I have to be such a completionist. I really jut hate everyone on this team. Deathstroke is MIA most of the time. Osirirs is just Superboy Prime. I really can't wrap my head around the motivation of Cinder and her volcanic Va Jay Jay. Penitent suicide, I guess? Ink is whack. And I'm really not digging Cheshire's newfound conscience. Specifically, its just the way she is acting. I can believe she has a newfound love of life with the death of her daughter, but I'm just not believing her entire new personality or the way she is carrying herself. Example: The bottom three panels on the page where Arsenal joins the team. I believe panels 1-2, I've read enugh to know she's the kind of person to revel luring someone into a false sense of security. Then she shows remorse in the last panel. Honest remorse. That does not jive with what I expect from that character. Her personality is all over the place and genuinely schizophrenic, to me.

X-Men #2
From what I've been seeing from Scott SUmmers since Utopia, just taking the approach of "Ressurect Dracula to deal with the current problem, and we'll deal with Dracula later." doesn't, again, jive with what I've seen from him already. I'd honestly believe, "Resurect Dracula and don't worry, I got a plan to deal with him afterwards." It is weird when Blade becomes the voice of reason in a book.

Green Lantern: Emerald Warriors #1
It is a start. Lets see where it goes. Attrocitus' skull wall, though, is pretty sweet.

Dark Wolverine #89
Remender writes this crossover so much better.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Two for Tuesday

Inside the abandoned warehouse, Moxy examines the mysterious steel ball. At the top of the object is a small hatch.Upon opening the hatch Moxy can make out that the interior is entirely mirrored. "Aw hell." he mutters under his breath.

Jason Raines from the Advanced Geometric Institute joins Moxy an hour later to confirm what Hannibal fears most. Jason's advanced mathematical skills can precisely calculate most objects area to the tiniest fraction. But his sense of precision are confouning him. "Hannibal, this thing is coming up as a perfect sphere. I haven't stopepd calculating Pi to the 200th decimal. How can someone construct such a thing? For what purpose?"

Hannibal can only posit. "Magic and Metalurgy to create a perfect sphere. Inside, the sphere is mirrored. It was once believed a mirror is your reflection in another world. An alternate you in another time. Meta-scientifically, this is the 5th dimension. The existence of multiple timelines existing side by side each other. If geometric 2D planes can cross each other to form polygons, then a 3D object is the intersection of multiple planes in space. If the 4th dimension is a timeline, then the 5th dimension is a time plane, and the 6th dimension is 3D time. Mirrors only operate on planes, so to access multiple timelines you need to be in 3d time space, thus the sphere."

Raines stares bewildered at Moxy. "What now?"

Moxy simply states, "Time travel through dimensional planar hopping. That's how our thief was able to nab those jewels and leave without a trace. Once he hops into the perfect sphere, he has access to an infinite number of alternate dimensions and can use magic to cross back and forth between worlds. Each point in the sphere is another timeline he can insert himself into. If he finds the right point in the sphere, too, he may be able to move back and forth on his own timeline. Theoretically it means nothign though. Each pint in time in 3d time is the convergence of several timelines. so anythign he does to alter the future just shifts him int another timeline. Dammit. Blow it up Raines."

Jason asks incredulously, "You're kidding right?"

Moxy sighs, "I was hopping I wouldn't have to run after him and get stuck in some dimension where ants are pets kept on farms or something equally as crazy. To pinpoint the exact spot in the spehre our friend ran to is ludacrously difficult. If I'm off by a fraction of PI, I'll go tumbling into a world our culprit hasn't visited. Or worse, on the return, I may never make it back here. Bad enough if an evil twin is somewhere doing this same thing and exits the sphere just as I leave through it."

"Odds of that?" asks Raines.

"Better than your mom being celibate tonight." replies Hannibal.

Ok. I have no idea where this is going except i needed to jot this down to actually mold into a better story. I like this idea from Edogawa Rempo's short story on what it must look like to be in a spherical mirror. I just comined it with my own mad thoughts on what the 4th, 5th, and 6th dimension must represent, and threw some grade school one-liners, and out pops this menagerie.

Wacky super science moment. What if Archimede was still alive in this world, and he's kept in a room where he must continue to speak the next number in the sequence of Pi, and that's how this world with no computers was able to do that?

Back at the office...

Wallace Woodford was summoning a storm. Catherine Faber could hear objects bouncing off the walls. The door to Woodford’s office would rattle and creak as it almost blows off its hinges. Wallace had a habit of generating tornados in localized areas when angered. Catherine moved to keep her head down to her desk, sitting behind her Guttenberg Moveable Type-Writer among the remainder of the Sunderville Alarm’s writing pool.

The door could not continue to resist the active forces behind it. It flies off its hinges and papers, plants, and pencils fly burst out of the room. Photographer Martin Hines comes tumbling out of the room. Wallace marches out of his office afterwards, swearing and pointing an accusatory finger at Hines. “Entirely tedious Hines! These pictures don’t pop! All you got is a chimp with a smile and a hand out. It doesn’t even talk! Why couldn’t you have it dressed up in a suit or something! Outfit it in imperial military dress. Make it look like this Ape is from our future, and our future is murderous soldiers who subsist on a diet of plantains!”

This is a re-do on my introduction to Catherine Faber, her surly editor Wallace Woodford, and Peter Parker simulacrum Martin Hines. Tried to give the introduction more pop by mentioning a literal tornado being called forth behind Wallace's closed doors.  

Friday, August 6, 2010

Redux on Chapter 1

The first European settlement in the Colmaya Valley was the town of Everton. The colonizing population would sustain itself through the trade of furs and game meat. The people of Everton would mingle with the barbarous tribes of the valley and both cultures would eventually meld into one group. Everton would rise as an example of how two disparate cultures could meld together.

In the 1870s, the mortal Gods of industry united to destroy the sprawling, luscious, green valley and its budding city. Everton’s population was straining the city’s infrastructure. New accommodations and amenities would have to be built. Railways were laid to ease transportation going in and out of the city. Sewers were built. Roads were paved throughout the many streets in the city. Lighting would be needed to keep the city burning bright throughout the day. A source of power would have to be developed. A powerful volcanic presence was discovered along the Eastern mountain ridge of the Colmaya Valley. Pacticioners of the old spirituality believed the area was where Colmaya’s heart lay. Investigations into the mountain revealed a long simmering cauldron of magma, ready to erupt at any notice. If the power of the volcano could be harnessed, it could provide enough energy to sustain Everton and cities hundreds of miles away for decades.

Construction of the great geothermic power dome began. Powerful mages were summoned to forcefully activate volcanic activity within the structure. Everton, and many other cities, could channel the rage of the natural furnace to power any sort of the new and fantastical contraptions being constructed every day. This act was known as ate sundering, the time where the people of the valley forsook their original faith for that of the Industrial magnates. Everton became Sunderville.

Yet, with such advances came the inevitable backlash of using such methods to tame the wilds. The lights of the city’s streets gave off a peculiar residue that wafted into the air, causing even the brightest of days to resemble a hazy twilight. The power of the magic underground turned the land around Sunderville into a charred, blackened thing. Water pumped into the city had the taste of ash. The forest retreated and gave the city a wide berth, allowing for the expansion of numerous new districts into the valley below.

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Comics for August 4, 2010

Shadowland #2 and Shadowland: Bullseye
So, a few years ago, something called "Civil War" happened, in comics. Captain America and Iron Man go to war over whether vigilante heroes should submit to government control. Its kind of like the arguement over the legalization of Marijuana, except with more explosions. Government sanctioned explosions. Marvel stated that they wanted to paint a fair and balanced picture of both sides. Captain America is Captian America. Aside form being hounded by Iron-Man and the U.S. Government, Captain America's biggest headache is havign to work alongside The Punisher. Iron Man, meanwhile, hires villains to hunt down rogue heroes, makes a clone of Thor that is prone to going on homicidal rampages, locks any rogue heroes he captures in a concentration camp in another dimension, and has to fight against Captain America. So, the two negative extremes of each side represented, here, are The Punisher or Hitler.

So, out comes Shadowland, and now we see what the danger to Cap's arguement is. They take Dardevil and make him into Hitler with an army of ninja villains to help him fight New York's street level heroes. Except now he's doing it without government sanction. Greatest quote out of Shadowland #2 that sums up this whole thing: "You sitting here in your throne room in your ninja castle in your own little kingdom in the middle of New York..." that is both the most awesome thing about Shadowland, and the most dangerous thing, in terms of the actual situation, about a vigilante hero. Daredevil, fed up with law enforcement in a small area of New york city, has taken it upon himself to construct a castle int he middle of a major metropolitan area and a jail for anyone that crosses his ninja law code.

For the past year, Marvel has been doing some great events that boil down to delightful concepts. Siege is Evil Avengers try to destroy Asgardian Gods who live in Oklahoma. World War Hulks is The Leader and MODOK make an army of hulks to conque the world. Second Coming was Evil Machine opens a time portal from the future so Terminators can come through and kill mutants. Curse of the Mutants is vampires come to take over San Francisco. Now, Shadowland joins these great over the top concepts with Ninja lord attempts to impose ninja law on New York City from obvious castle stronghold in Manhattan.

All in all, Shadowland #2 is a real hoot. Shadowland: Bullseye isn't so bad, either. It gives the story of how Ben Urich fits into this while also giving us ghostly Bullseye haunting a schizophrenic. That is full of win and awesome.

I am not quick on most readings, especially ones that are disjointed. I tend to respond to such narratives better through movies where I can recieve visual AND audio clues. So I had to read this twice to grasp what it was talking about. It is a fine book, though. It lacks action, but here's hoping a showdown of epic proportions between time traveling leonardo DaVinci and Immortal mad genius Isaac Newton pays off better than my homemade videos of physicist backyard wrestling featuring a titanic clash between Tycho Brahe and Johannes Kepler.

Doomwar #6
Meh. My real quarrel with this book is that it appears other countries don't look favorably upon an invasion of Latveria. I guess I missed the boat on why a country would be against weekly invasions of the home of Doctor Doom, considering how often heroes just stop by to have a good throwdown with the doctor of the brutal arts. I respect Maberry for what he has been doing with this book, which is super-hero statecraft. However, once someone decides to take over the world, that should be unilateral cause for a beating.

Now, I'll just think how awesome a Marvel U.N. comic could be if we had the following things in it: Ambassador from Utopia, home of the mutants Scott Summer. Ambassador form the US Steve Rogers/Norman Osborn, Ambassador from Atlantis Namor, the Submariner, Ambassador from Wakanda T'Challa/Shuri, the Black Panther, Ambassador from the Vampire State of England, Dracula, Ambassador from Mandarin City, The Mandarin, and Ambassador from Asgard, Thor. That is a security council.

Avengers: Prime #2
A great story. Love where it is going, except: Why is Hela taking over the remaining Nine Realms in the wake of Asgard's departure when she barely has any real estate to her name in the Thor books? Most importantly, how does this sync up with what went down with Hela in Siege, which this story takes place directly after? I can only assume Bendis is creating a new swerve to throw at the reader in anticipation of issue 3, out in two months :(

Brightest Day #7
I felt satisfied in this issue. I've mentioned before that with 6-12 characters to feature every issue, that stories can't advance for each character at a satisfactory pace. What can happen, though, is that a common event/theme can be shared amongst all the different characters and, thus, a satisfactory story can be communicated to the the reader. That hasn't really happened until this issue, and that's why I am so tickled pink over this.

Deadpool #1000
FVL's story was best, bar none. Remender's story was second best.

IZombie #4
And here we get the metaphysics of this bizarrely populated world.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Refinign the background: The death of Colmaya and the beginning of the universe

The death of a God is common. A lot of religions feature the dramatic death of some sort deity. The native people of the Sunderton Valley had their own story.

Gorin extended his hand into the darkness of the night. When we withdrew his hand, he held a fading green star. He fashioned it into a spear. With this dying star he would slay his enemy Colmaya. The dark green light would not be easy to spot in the darkness of the unborn universe. Gorin launched his celestial weapon into Colmaya. The God would die from his wound and his corpse became the earth. The gouge in his body would become The Valley. The starlight spear would remain lodged in Colmaya, and become the first tree. Gorin, unsure if a God could truly die, circled above Colmaya’s carcass, always watching the corpse with one of his two eyes, the Sun or Moon. Colmaya’s blood poured from his wounds, giving us water.

Gorin was wise to watch Colmaya’s body. The God did not truly die. His life essence was sundered by the force of Gorin’s star spear, creating the many diverse species of life. All living things were once part of the soul of Colmaya. The indigenous tribes of The Valley feared Gorin’s retribution. His all seeing eyes would find them and finish the job he started at the beginning of time.

Gorin would fashion a race of people out of his own pale skin. He deposited them on the other side of Colmaya’s body. Gorin commanded them to conquer the people of The Valley. These were the Europeans.

I am actually pretty proud of this one. It is rather daunting, creatively, to think of creating a Genesis story. Should I use any real material? How much real material would I use? How much do I explain? Does it sound too ridiculous? You always kind of worry about that. I believe I did a rather good job with this, though. Cooke dit all up from scratch. I was not looking to take away from any current myths/stories. I know, though, I can spot some Cain and Abel in this. Maybe a hint of Aztec w/ the names. I'm sure the idea of a few others might be spotted in this, though through no intention of my own.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

A raw background of the city

Padlmanque took a dull star from the heavens, and fashioned it into a spear to stab his enemy, and uncle, Comaxa. Its green light was not bright enough to spot in the darkness of the time before the rising of the sun. Padlmanque stabbed at Comaxa, thus forming the Earth. Padlmanque circles above the bloated corpse of his fallen family member as the moon, remainig vigilant should he rise. This star became the first tree, the gouge in Comaxa’s flesh became The Valley, and as water, Comaxa’s blood, seeped from his numerous wounds, life took hold and spread. The barbarous people of the mountain ranges believed that one day Padlmanque would see how his uncle cheated death, to spread his essence amongst all living things, and resolve to finish the job. According the the tribes of the Valley, Padlmanque fashioned a race of man out of his own pale skin, deposited them on a side of the Earth where no green existed, and bid them to conquer in his name. These were the first Europeans when they encountered the mountain valley tribesmen.

A dedicated order of Shamans from a splinter tribe of savages were said to use their natavistic magic to feed the spirits of nature inside the valley. Comaxa’s essence infused all life in the valley to have a resiliance to the elements unheard of during the times. Extreme heat and cold were a slight annoyance. People could withstand winds of hurricane force magnitudes. They could copulate and procreate in times no where near resembling the normal periods of gestation for their counterparts. Thus the wars began, as the people of Europe had to contend with a Native population that was hardier and able to replenish population quicker than them. They huddled agaist the mountain sides of the Valley, and resolved to let the savages of this area live as they wished.

Nestled against the walls of this deciduous valley, the town of Everton housed a population that sustained itself through trade of woodland wildlife furs for consumer goods from the east coast. Eventually, the people of Everton came to mingle with the people of the Comaxa Valley and both cultures assimilated into one. Once the gateway to a barren spiritual hellscape, Everton would become the ambassador of Man’s integration into a more natural world.

The mighty Gods of industry united in order to destroy the sprawling, luscious, green valley and its City. Railways were constructed alongside the mountains of the valley. In order to provide amenities to the people of the growing city f Everton, a source of power would need to be developed. Construction began on a particular mountain top, the creation of the great geothermic power dome on one of the mountains. Powerful mages were summoned to forcefully activate volcanic activity within the structure. Upon completion of their task, Everton could channel the rage of the natural furnace to power any sort of the new and fantastical contraptions being constructed every day. Lights for the city, Underground sewage disposers, pumps for water, etc. This act was known as ate sundering, the time where the people of the valley forsook their original animalistic faith for that of the Industrial magnates. Everton became Sunderville. Yet, with such advances came the inevitable backlash of using such methods to tame the wilds. The lights of the city’s streets gave off a peculiar residue that wafted into the air, causing even the brightest of days to resemble twilight. People described seeing inside the city to resemble like trying to see through a haze, or, in some locations, look into a burning fog. At nights, the moon and stars could no longer be seen. The power of the magic underground turned the land around Sunderville into a charred, blackened thing. Water pumped into the city had the taste of ash. The forest gave the city a wide berth, allowing for the expansion of numerous new districts into the valley below.

Immediate thoughts on writing this; I need to find a better conclusion. I need to flesh out a lot more of the ideas of the story fo the two gods fighting. I know I'm leavng out something, and I cant shake the feelign that what I wrote is thoroughly boring.

Monday, August 2, 2010

New Character and New Begining

Catherine Faber silently sat behind her Guttenberg Moveable Type-Writer while Wallace Woodford summoned a storm in his office behind her. The door would rattle and occasionally bulge, almost blowing off its hinges and flying into the general typing pool that makes up the Sunderville Alarm. Office items could be heard bouncing around inside. Woodford had a habit of spontaneously generating tornados in localized areas when angered. Flash prints captured by Patrick Williams for the impending lead story of the time traveling ape were not up to the newspaper’s usual quality.

Unable to resist the force of the elements behind it, the door to Woodford’s office swings open and Williams flies out of the room, Wallace standing between the doorway pointing an accusatory finger towards the reporting cub. “Entirely tedious Williams! These pictures don’t pop! All you got is a chimp with a smile and a hand out. It doesn’t even talk! Why couldn’t you have it dressed up in a suit or something! Outfit it in imperial military dress. Make it look like this Ape is form out future, and out future is murderous soldiers who subsist on a diet of plantains!”

Faber decided now was a time to get up and walk out before debris finds itself in her hair and all over her attire. In the common lobby area of the first floor of the 4 story building, she sits in a reclining couch. She had hoped for a chance to make a mark in the career of news reporting like other women have begun to assert themselves in other literary fields. Mary Wollstonecraft’s Letters from Norway was a major inspiration for her, but it seems editors like Woodford prefer stories in the style of her daughter Mary Shelley. Outrageous accounts of scientists, their dabbling in god-like fancy, and the physical consequences of these dalliances. News prints now-a-days just follow the idea that where there’s magic, it’s fantastic.

Mundane life had become some menial that all news must deal with the metaphysical. Events of an unexplained nature have been appearing with increasing frequency as the world has turned towards finding the true limits of Aristotilian science and leading into a resurgence of some of the more ancient forms of worship, with their Gods more willing to interact with the world. People felt comfortable knowing beings of such immense power would take such interest with the normal world and exhibit such human frailties. The useage and occurrence of practicioners of occult sciences has grown so much in the recent years that more people than ever feel as if they could become Gods in their own right if the ones they follow show such human frailties. Popular theory suggests that the Gods were people who transcended their forms into divinity, and the feeling around the world is that, eventually, the rest of the world would undergo an apotheosis.

Results have been mixed. While instances of apotheosis have not gone up, practicioners of magic or technomancy have certainly gone up. Everyday thousands of new fantastical events occur. Thus, the newsprint industry became an increasing source of up to the day retellings of the day’s most fantastical accounts. Literacy has gone up amongst even the most poor of masses. Urban areas have flourished as more educated citizens are needed for increasingly more sophisticated jobs. Women have begun taking to the workplace. They can even wear trousers when performing duties not centered on their home. However, they still remain figuratively chained in their caves. Woodford offered her an imperfect version of her ideal job of reporting on the most amazing events of the day. Instead she would report to every other reporter in the typing pool the events of Wallace’s ever changing moods.

Certain that Wallace has had plenty time to calm down from thrashing about his favored photographer, Catherine ascends the steps into the Alarm’s headquarters. At her desk, though, was a curious sight A plain package sat there. Looking around to notice eif anyone is watching her for their amusement and determining that no one is, she grabs the package and decides to deliver it to Mr. Woodford.

She gives his warped door a few courtesy knocks before letting herself into his offices. There she finds him dejectedly putting his office back together from the events of the tempest he summoned earlier. She hesitantly asks, “Sir, This package, came for you, I think?’

Wallace Woodford looks up at his secretary. His eyes wide with excitement. “A mystery package?! I never asked for anything sent here. Cathy! Its providence!” Woodford takes the box out of her hands and tears into it. Inside is a small shining item and a letter. After looking it over, Wallace’s eyes twitch and he eyes his personal assistant over. “You want a chance to do this Cathy?” She asks, “What is it?” and Woodford replies, “The Sigmund Horde is coming into town in a few days, and in its lead up it seems the managers for it want to have a lady interview its discoverer. You’re supposed to wear the jewelry inside.”

Okay…I need to find a better way to show that a dues ex machina has come in to Catherine’s life. There's a lot of this I need to clean up.

Thursday, July 29, 2010

Comics this week

No new content for the bizarre Novel-in-not-making, but at least I can try to critique and hone my words against my comic purchases this week.

Justice League: Generation Lost #6
The most impact this comic will have on anything is if it gets thrown at your head. I hated this thing since page 4 when it started veering off towards being a flashback. You know when this book would have been great to print? Issue 2. Just after the events it references happened in issue #1.

Oh, spoiler alert, Captain Atom knows Maxwell Lord is going to cause trouble. For fuck's sake. That is the premise of the damn book. Max Lord is a bad guy and only the JLI redub can save the world. Why the hell do we need a whole issue devoted to this startling realization when the entire premise of the book is that?

Green Lantern #56
I kinda like Green Lantern. I mean as a character concept. However, Hal Jordan is a humongous dick. Way to go Geoff Johns for ruining Christmas for anyone reading this book.

The book is just fine. I really liked it. Then again, I like Larfleeze. He is a delightfully simple minded character that expresses how difficult someone unaccustomed to our forms of etiquette and behavior can have in adjusting to our world.

Franken-Castle #19
God I love this book.  If you happen to be following the crossover, though, go ahead and witness the difference in attitude and demeanor for Daken between Daniel Way and Remender. It is quite startling. If this signals anything, it is that Daken is a weak character, right now. I get that writers should put their own spin/voice in a character, but the differences between Way's version's of Daken and RR's version is too drastic to chalk up to creative license. I prefer Way's version.

The Flash #4
Oh good lord this was a fun book. For anyone that truly enjoyed the Batman 60s TV series, this book is about the closest you will get to a mainstream super-hero book emulating that style. The presentation is far from camp, sure, but the over-the-top ridiculous antics of the characters work well in the setting. I squeeled with glee upon reading the Rogue's big plan is a giant mirror from the Mirror Master engraved with the words, "In Case The Flash Returns Break Glass". It is so outrageously cheesy and in step with the way Geoff John's portrays the Rogue's as about as dangerous as a college fraternity rather than a league of super-villains.

World War Hulks: Spider-Man vs. Thor #2
Best comic of the week and I only enjoyed half the book. For the better part of half a year Kieron Gillen has written the best Thor I have ever read. He has taken the basic character flaws for both Spider-Man and Thor and shown us how the power of the Hulk kicks those character points up a few notches. Then, he shows us why these people are heroes, despite these flaws.

This book is fabulously funny, too. Favorite line, hands down, is "We must be friends and brothers. And never again let Diplodocus make us fight."

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

The Sigmund Treasure Horde (A new prelude?)

"It was during the dead of night, around 6:00 pm" Andersson Sigmund recalled to the reporter. "I was wrenched out of my thoughts by the appearance of light in the distance."

Andersson Sigmund deigned to live away from civilization. He is secure in his isolation in the area of Uppsala. It has been mentioned that the area shares a bond with the gods of the old Norse. Uppsala was a fabled home of Odin. Magic has the potential to be strong in this area. The winters in Scandinavia don't leave much to do but allow the imagination to wander. Brutally cold temperatures and near constant darkness throughout the day keep most people inside.

Sigmund breathes in deeply. he attempts to compose himself as he continues with his story. "There wasn't any sound. Just this shining light, like a light bulb. Except it looked purer. It is bizarre to think of light as healthy and strong."

Curiosity was better than quiet contemplation, at the moment. Sigmund dressed himself for the elements, then opened his door. The weather outside was still. The wind stopped howling across the fields, momentarily. From his front door, Andersson could tell the light was not coming from just outside his house, but into the woods where he gathered fire wood. "It was as if the light responded to how far my vision could determine its source. If I didn't look directly at it, or see down where it was coming from, the intensity of the light out the corner of my eyes was almost blinding. The light wanted me to follow its path. As long as I never strayed form it, my body felt safe from the winter environment."

Sigmund would follow the light into a clearing about 2 miles form his home. In the clearing, he felt as if he was surrounded on all sides by the light, but it was not so intense as to cause him to shut his eye. "It looked as if the light was just acting as illumination, just like a fire lamp would brighten up a room."

Sigmund's eyes adjusted to the illumination. Within seconds he could easily survey his surroundings. The light brought many features into focus. "I could see scratch markings into the ground. not fresh. But the way the light bounced off the ground, you could see that this soil was not meant to be there. I began to dig in the spot."

Within minutes he found the first golden coin. Time had tarnished it, but the mystical light in the clearing helped Andersson see what it was. Digging and looking further into the ground, he found more coins. Then iron weapons. Eventually, he was able to exhume a ship. "I couldn't feel tired. Not with the excitement building over what I had discovered."

That was 4 years ago. Andersson has parlayed his fame from discovering of the Sigmund Horde into national accolades, honorary professorship at the finest occult institutions, and personal wealth. The magic behind its discovery has yet to be explained. Recently, the Swedish government allowed the horde to go on a wolrdwide tour, allowing other institutions of alchemical science to study its metaphysical makeup.

So, What about this thing? I feel like it sound sliek it wants to be a news report, but I know I never explicitly made it into that. Should I just go all the way with out like that? Is that even a good idea? Should I fix it up to make it less of a newspaper article?

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

The Robbery to be solved by Hannibal Moxy

Acid rain attempts to smoother the flames of Sunderville's streetside firelamps. The flames remain eternally lit. The essence of a nearby volcanoe is mined to power them. However, the glow from the magical flames shrinks as the acrid waters attempt to douse the lamps. Gaps of darkness begin to form along the city's stone roads.

Lars Ulrichson marches to the Sturm Museum. He stays in darkness where he can. When he is caught in the glow of a firelamps he is slightly obscured due to the downpour. The sight of a few empty burlap bags against his body can briefly be made out before he melts into the shadows. The darkness that slowly spreads over the city allows him to move with impunity.

Unseen, he trudges up the steps to the museum's entryway. He grabs hold of the handle to the Museum's entryway. He pulls the door off its hinges and casually tosses it to the side. He purposefully walks into the Museum's foyer, glancing around to spot any signs that can direct him to the Sigmund Treasure Horde. He is losing time. His forceful entrance has trigered a whisper message to be sent to the closest constabulary. He chooses to move straight and plows through a wall, hoping to find the Horde or someone who can lead him to it.

Louis Simon drifts through his watch round. The polished floor of the museum reflects the soft orange glow from the fire lamps inside the museum. His reflection in the floor is his silent partner during these rounds. The silence is broken by the sound of a distant cracking from beyond the left side wall. The halways begins to rumble and shake a few seconds later. The wall to Simon's left begins to break. The wall explodes and Lars emerges like a Titan birthed from the bedrock of the Earth.

Simon has little time before he is snatched by the raider's hands. A quick tug pulls Louis' face into the remaining wall. A quick flick of the wrist takes him down to the ground as the strongman steps through the hole in the wall. Lars drops to one knee, nestled against the crotch of Simon, and wraps a single hand against the scared security man's throat. Lars leans in close to Louis to ask, "Where is the Sigmund Horde?"

A shaky point of the finger is rewarded with a the snapping of bone. Lars the Vile stands and breaks into a full sprint down the hallway in the direction shown by Simon. Lars's frame crashes into another wall and he explodes into the main rom of the Sigmund Treasure Horde.

Lars manicly ransacks the place. Any object that immediately catches his attention gets shoveled into one of the several bags he brought with him. His mighty fists shatter glass cases that house golden treasures. Larger objects get casually tossed aside or kicked over. Bags leaden with ill gotten gains are thrown into the corner, far away from the theif's whirlwind of violence.

Once satisfied in excising his lust of carnage and destruction, Lars the Vile picks up the bags he tossed into the corner, makes a new exit through the wall of the room, and trots into the darkness of Sunderville's many unlit back alleys.

I have a feeling i could do a few things to change this up.
1-I just feel like I should have a stonger opening. I don't know whether I should open with the robbery in progress or use the scene I set initially, and just spice it up
2-I'm thinking that i should, perhaps, go into the history of the SIgmund Treasure Horde. Perhaps using the dicovery of a treasure horde and the excitement around it as a more solid opening than this?
3-I really feel like I did not go into enough detail of the robbery itself. I feel like I just wrote the most boring theft in literature.

What do all you party people think?

Friday, July 23, 2010

The Exploits of Hannibal Moxy

What follows here is some writing I have been attempting to refine. Let me know how it sounds and what i can do to really make it stand out. Critique away!

The light at the head of the steam rail pierces through the night. The contraption moves with a low rumble over the tracks guiding it. Inside the 19th car Hannibal Moxy sips tea, looking through the window as the line crests the Florentine ridge.

The cabin would be decribed as ostentacious by any regular traveler. Hannibal has nary a word of complaint for its decor, though. He reclines into the ornate couch's arm rest, turning to his left and laying his legs across the second seat so that he may get a good view of the outside of the approaching Metropolis of Sunderton.

From his window Sunderton glows like an ember in the fireplace. The red lights along the streets provide the visible illumination of the city this night. The glow does not extend into the blackened sky, though. Sunderton is reknowned for the chokeable haze that hangs over it, casting the brightest of days in the gloom of twilight.

Hannibal can tell that a forest wraps the city from behind. The outlines of the trees are evident thanks to the glow from a geothermal power dome in the distance. The Purgatorio dome is another of the famous features of Sunderton. The dome is an engineering miracle that encapsules the active Volcano located close to the city. It is the source of all power for Sunderton.

Now, What follows is entirely new content that I have not attempted to refine. This is more of an exercise on relevancy and if this is at all necessary/interesting enough to put into the story, at this time.

Hannibal comforts his thoughts on his looming arrival into the city with a reminder that his mentor is a warp missive away. The ease of connection gives Hannibal confidence going into his first investigative foray. His mentor, Damon Lark, is a carnosseiur of some of the world's most esoteric histories. When a priceless collection of artifacts dating back to the Viking age were stolen from the Suderton museum, Damon Lark volunteered the services of his newest protege to help in locating these items.

So I am torn on how to present this information. I just feel like I cut to the chase entirely too quickly. I dont know if, perhaps, i should tell the story of the break in, instead of just relaing its events second hand. I'm leaning towards actually doing that as a new opening, since I view the robbery as a non-essential element of the story. I, particularly, have no desire to keep the events of the theft hidden from the reader. The thief, maybe, but the actual theft, i think i can enjoy writing that, especially if I can throw in some ninja prostittues and empty kegs of mead.

A NEW Jane Eyre! For the 2000s!

When I got this email, I immediately thought of that horrid book:

Dear Beloved,

I am sure this mail would be coming to you as a surprise since we have never met before and you would also be asking why I have decided to chose you amongst the numerous internet users in the world, precisely I cannot say why I have choosen you but do not be worried for I come in peace and want you to me to help me accomplish my last wish . As the island of Haiti experience a major earthquake struck, I will like to use this last chance to help as a philanthropist .

Before I move further, permit me to give you a little of my biography, I am Lady Rita Ratnavale, 78 Years old woman and the wife of Sir Ratnavale, Victor, dual citizen of Switzerland and Britain who died in a Plane crash on Monday the 7th of September 1998 GMT 14:22 UK alongside with my daughter while they were flying from New York to Geneva. Please see site below for more information.

After the death of my husband I became the Head of his investment and now that I am old and weak I have decided to spend the rest of my life in my Ranch before i finally leave the world, but before the death of my husband we had a plan to use the last days of our lives to donate half of what we have worked for to the less privileged and charity homes and the other half for ourselves, family members and close friends, and it is so unfortunate that my husband is not alive today to do this with me and I am very weak and old now, hence I have decided to do this philanthropic work on behalf of my late husband.

Presently, I have willed out almost half of our assets to several charity homes and to some of the less privilege in different countries. Despite the agreement between my late husband and I to give aid to the deprived, we also agreed to render support to an individual we have not meet before in life due to the fact when we were still young in life we received an anonymous help from an individual we did not know and which we were never able to identify,the impact we got from such a gesture made us to do same.

I am sorry to inform you that you will never have the chance to know me because I have just concluded the assignment which my husband and I have agreed upon before his sudden death and you happened to be the beneficiary of our last will. hence I need you to do me a favour by accepting our offer and using it to help the poor in Haiti.

I deposited a check in the sum of ?2.400,000.00 (Two Million Four Hundred Thousand British Pounds) with DHL UK one week ago to deliver to you, but i was very ill so i could not send you an email until today. what you have to do now is to contact the assigned dispatch officer Mr Jim Brown as soon as possible to know when they will deliver your package to you.

For your information, I have paid for the delivering Charge, Insurance Premium and Clearance Certificate Fee of the Cheque showing that it is not a Drug Money or meant to sponsor Terrorist attack in your Country all you have to send to him is the payment for the security keeping fee of 250Great British Pounds ($389USD)

So what to do with this? Did Sir Ratnavale get his money through Nazi Gold? Why did their plane crash (don't cheat and read the news aricle!) Has Lady Rita attempted to prolong her life through siritual means, and if she has not, would she begin to reclaim her money if she decided to? What of the path of the money? Suppose I write a story where it is real  money, who would follow along the trail of money to YOUR house? Terrorists? The Real Owners of the Money? Nazis? Just what sort of demonic pact would you be signing if you took Lady Rita's illicit gains? This demands to be done!

So seriously. What kind of story would anyonoe here write about this?

Would you like it?

The spirit of Leonardo daVinci lives in a volcano.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

I belong to the Red Lantern Corps

I have great anger in my heart. It is time I begin to rise. I am propelled by the horror I feel for what has befallen me. My double has left me to rot in this jail, shackled to the wall of this island cave. But no longer will I bemoan my current state. Instead, my form wracks itself against the floor and upon the wall. I tug at the bindings, spasming my body with such violence that I break a link in the chains.

I emerge triumphant into the night. Before the glimmer of light from above I resolve I will conquer my current state of ennui, and, after speaking a few prayers to my personal divinity, cast what remains into the watery abyss of my cavernous imagination. I begin to fashion a raft out of my sloughed, slothful carapace. Taking the broken anxietal chains that once bound me to this Platonic prison I lash logs from my clear cut mental forest to the body of my vessel and set sail into the void.

I summon forth my anger, with which I will temper my thoughts into their actions. I distaste acting on my bloodlust physically. I have no qualms letting forth the pent up reservoir of bile sloshing in my head and putting those words down on paper. This is the mindset with which I scribe out these words that fill this page and communicate my ideas with all of you.

My journey brings me to a new land where I have hounded the meek into a killing field and slaughter it. I will cook its meat upon the flame of my rage, and start to venture forth into the primeval jungle hoping to return to my camp with nuggets of inspiration.

Deadpool #25

This week was chock-a-block full of comics to buy. I could go on about how boring X-Factor #207 was or how excited I was to read a Taskmaster story by Fred van Lente that mentions a Taskmaster ongoing (Coming in September) in Age of Heroes #3. However, there was only one book on my mind and its not even because I thought it was great (it was servicable).

My odyssey to find a .jpg of this week's cover to Deadpool #25 led me down memory road to the last time a "Deadpool" comic reached #25, which was the end of the 25 issue "Mithras" arc of Joe Kelly's, and becoming the last great thing Joe Kelly has written until "I Kill Giants"

Anyone who has read Deadpool over the past 9 months may recognize this plot. Deadpool is attempting to be a hero. He finally gets a chance to, but those plans go south as Deadpool finds out he has to sacrifice his reputation, and all he has built up towards being a hero, in order to truly be one.

I have no idea if Daniel Way was trying to sum up the greatest Deadpool arc with his own twist of limon (the active ingredient in Sprite), but the fact that we may have capped the quest by Deadpool to becoming a hero on the same issue number as the end of the "Mithras" arc is a hell of a coincidence.

Digging deeper into my fantasy realm, I would love to pick Way's brain on whether this three issue story has been his attempt to put his own spin on the past 7 years of Marvel books. Deadpool apes "Secret Invasion" by pretending to be Weasel in his power armor. Way channels "Dark Reign" by using his opportunity as Wild Card/The House to team up with The Grizzly in order to rob the money vaults of Las Vegas. "Siege" gets a nod as Weasel must charge headlong into Las Vegas in order to defend it from the titular character and reclaim his glory.

As I wrote earlier, this is not a particularly great book. However, it was one which I felt I could talk about and not just be excited and pee on the carpet for like I did over DV8 #4.

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

DND Adventure Idea : The Art of War

PCs must stop a conquering horde and their leader from destroying a good kingdom. The PCs must bring down an advanced force led by an Elite General.

Their foe has wrote the book on warfare, however. The adversary has spies and saboteurs spread throughout the good kingdom, ready to begin a shadow campaign that could cause the good kingdom to crumble before it has time to mobilize.

Soon, heroes begin to learn their enemy knows more about them than they could believe. Now, they must do the same against this awesome rival. The heroes must unearthe everything they can on this unseen master of war.

Once they know their enemy, the heroes must begin planning for war. Understanding their enemy allows them to plan to defend against his best strategems. The heroes organize the good kingdoms defense, and wait for an opening.

Once an opening presents itself, the heroes must attack, and rain down fury against the Master of War.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Hooray for Second Coming

It is bizarre given that I'm writing praise for an event title that I have consciously chosen not to spend money on. I refuse to endorse, monetarily, any more X-Men books that feature Sentinels, or allusions to Days of Future Past/Present/etc. That last time I enjoyed a story featuring these over used mechanoid fun suckers was Operation: Zero Tolerance, only because it assumed the rest of the world of Marvel does, in fact, exist in the same world as the X-Men. Other heroes (okay, just Spider-Man) were drawn into such an inherently unfair conflict as U.S. Government sanctioning of genocide.

I give Second Coming praise for only a few reasons. I praise it for acknowledging this, in its own way. Bastion HAD to isolate San Francisco from the rest of the world because, yeah, the rest of the Marvel Heroes would be forced to deal with this issue. X-Factor covered it perfectly, too. I want to desperately believe that with the end of Second Coming that the stories of Sentinels and futures where robots hunt mutants are finished. In fact, I want to believe that with the end of Second COming most of Claremont's influence on the team has begun to fizzle out.

I honestly want to see the new adjectiveless X-Men succeed, and not just because I consider Victor Gischler a friend of the now dead show. I am not going to pretend that the X-Men shouldn't serve the niche they have for themselves, and that's as representations of minorities and discrimination in this country. However, I would like to see variety in the stories, and the upcoming vampire arc is certainly headed in the right direction. Instead of the minority fighting against the majority, lets go ahead and two dfferent minorities fight each other.

Since Claremont's "Days of Future..." the X-Men have been stuck in a world with pre-WWII sensibilities towards minorities. I hope that we can at least move them into the civil rights era, in terms of the problems mutants in Marvel will have to face. Then again, with Utopia being what it is, a tiny nation off of the bay in San Francisco, perhaps we'll get some stories that are allegories for African Genocide/Yugoslavia. That'll at least get their problems coinciding with the times.

You Wouldn't Expect It...

But I am still quite alive. However, The Popmedia Primecast is not. So, Me and Dusty have decided to part ways creatively. If you would think about it, though, getting 6 months out of a hour and a half long commercial radio show with 45-60 minutes of content devoted to the comic book medium on AM radio in South louisiana is a hell of a feat. Hooray for me.

Now, It is on to othr things. Writing more, specifically. I'm making a check list right now.
1-Write on this damn blog
2-Go to Lafayette "Drink and Draws" and mingle with the artists.
3-Get adventures published for D&D 4th Edition
4-Write a novel
5-Write for Marvel

Friday, May 14, 2010

Prince of Power #1

Cho is a legacy character, in a sense. It is presented in this book he is the inheriter of the role Hercules played in the Marvel U. Cho stands apart from most legacy characters because his skill and power set are so different from his heroic mentor. He has a great chance of seperating himself from his heroic mentor and becoming a unique hero. This isn't a legacy charcater who is just a change in personality from his mentor, such as Wally West and Dick Grayson. Cho is drasticly different from Hercules, but the mission statement for the character remains the same. A whole new space of storytelling is opening up to fill this role of fighter of mythological monsters.

The book moves at a break neck speed, which is good. Events moved from a fight with The Griffin, to Banner's work to locate Hercules, to Vali's plan to work towards god-hood. Each story has its own unique undertones and threads laid out that will, hopefully, intersect with each other before the series finishes up. The Griffin fight lays out a larger story of the impending appearance of the Chaos King. The work by Banner features a second story about the quest to find Hercules, and Vali's plan to attain godhood is a third arc that will, most likely, require Cho to visit, and anger, several pantheons over the course of the series. The art is gorgeous, and I wish I could enjoy it more without the purple information boxes. For some reason those things are irritating to me.

Finally, there is an everpresent undertone of the gods vs man . In the Chaos King story Athena leaves a message for Cho that Mankind should learn to depend on themselves rather than look tot he gods for help in their monumental battles. In the Quest for Hercules story, as Cho is talkign to Delphyne, the Gorgon, she is reading a book titled "How to Kill a God"while Cho voices suspicions of trusting Athena, and there is the rise of Godhodd story, which was started through Vali Halflings desire to raise mortals into godhood because of the gods' indifference to their mortal followers. There is, also, an intersting scene where people donate goods to help the Norse Gods after the events of Siege. It is a nice juxtaposition of how mortals look to the gods and help them after reading Athena's and Vali's speeches on the relations of mortals to the gods. Artistically, this is a juxtaposition to an earlier panel regarding the horrors the god's have bestowed upon the world. War, Destruction, and the "kindness" of the one day only free health clinic.

This is a great book, all around. Cho has the personality of a self-assured teenager, and reminds me of some of my most problematic A students, as a teacher. The heavy mythological lean of the book is right up my alley and I'll be returning again to continue reading this series next month.

Thursday, May 13, 2010

Siege 4

I truly hate becoming a comic nerd, but, after 2.5 solid issues of work (I refuse to consider the 1st half of Siege #1 as being good), Bendis just dropped the ball on the ending of this book.

Two scenes effectively sink this book. First, we have the Loki begging Odin for strength scene. This does a lot to undercut Loki's machinations that have been present throughout Kieron Gillen's run of Thor and the Siege: Loki one shot. I get that Loki can shrug off being killed. That was the point of his dealings in Siege: Loki. I have a problem with the sincerity he displays in his astonishment at the destructive power of The Sentry. There's no reason for Loki to not be sincere in thoughts. So you have to assume that those thoughts he has are true. He is not vocalizing them. He's not trying to hide from mind readers. These are presented as true feelings that Loki is experiencing, at that moment. In that moment Bendis completely castrates everything we knew of Loki over the past few months. It's great Loki took back the Norn stones because he certainly acts like he lost his stones in these first few pages.

Most of the fight we get against The Void is solid. The Avengers, powered up by Norn Stones, Asgard's "Power Thirst", try to beat up The Void. Not working. Iron Man drops a Helicarrier on The Void. Not working. Its building up to the point where something awesome needs to happen to beat The Void, and we get Thor calling down a Lightning bolt on him. Which he tried doing, to little effect, at the beginning of the fight. This doesnt look like Bendis running out of ideas, this smells more like the page count was gettign too high for the fight and needed to be wrapped up, quickly. Again, The Sentry lost the fight because the page count was going up!

Lets also remember how many times the damn guy DIED in Dark Avengers! And he stays down from that? And being dumped into the sun? Wasn't the BIG SCARY thing about the man that he was unbeatable because his molecules were under conplete control of his will, ever if he died? Didn't he have the equivalent of a molecular healing factor? WHY THE HELL IS A LIGHTNING BOLT BEATING HIM?!

Throw in a 10 page epilogue to this story and we end Marvels great crossover with a pretty pathetic whimper.

Friday, May 7, 2010

Vengeance of the Moon Knight 8

I am constantly amazed Moon Knight has his own series.

This week was a fairly light week for me in comics. I only picked up 8 books. While I, normally, gush glowingly about titles such as Batman and Robin, Spider-Man: Fever, and Amazing Spider-Man, I found this book to be my favorite one of the week. It is not that it is as innovative or potentially exciting as the three books mentioned previously, but it was an enjoyable read and concluded a story. I like having endings in books.

So this story is, essentially, a 22 page epilogue to the McGuffin of the contract killing on a Russian Mobster. Deadpool was hired to kill this man. Moon Knight was not going to let that happen. Moon Knight runs off to dismantle the man's operation himself. By page 5 that whole thing is wrapped up. Then we get a 13 page throw down of Moon Knight and Deadpool for, really, no reason, now. Deadpool is a synonym, in story, for the illogical, so fighing for no reason at all is right up his alley. The other 4 pages? Well, the lady that hired Deadpool decides to be more proactive in her mission to kill the Russian mobster after the Merc with the Mouth fails to do the job.

Thursday, May 6, 2010

iZombie 1

Witness that I do not just read Marvel comics or Green Lantern tie in books.

A problem that can plague #1 issues is the writer attempts to set something up in the issue rather than provide anything dynamic in the book. What is great about this book is that, while it is a set-up piece, at $1 for the book, it is a cheap entry way into the world of Supernatural Eugene, Oregon.

Boy does this book set up the world too. We get our protagonist, Gwen, her best friend Ellie, their 3rd wheel hangeron Spot, the Vampire paintball ref, and some monster hunters. Nobody is really doing anything in this issue except establishing themselves and what their role is in the book. They are all interesting characters. I'm excited for these people. But, again, this issue is just meant to set up the world. I suspect issue #2 will be where some action will begin.

Now, for the real critiquing. While this book was good, I'm sure we don't need to wait until story page 20 to find out Gwen is a zombie nor story pages 21-22 to find out what the purpose of the book is. What is most frustrating about this, though, is that 18-22 were the previews of the damn book. Your big reveal is not clever if the last 5 pages of your comic were the preview of your book in just about every DC comic printed over the past month. That makes you a giant waste of my time. Why the hell can we not get these five pages as the beginning of the story, and then the next 17 is Gwen and the gang solving the mystery of the murdered man? Can the reader not be introduced to them over the course of an investigation? I hate asking rhetorical questions because these should not be asked. There is no reason to hide the fact Gwen is a zombie until page 20 if everyone who has seen an advertisement for the book already knows this.

Now, on the plus side, Allred's art is beautiful. It is interesting to see a zombie rendered in his pop-style art work and how the fact that there is a zombie rendered in this way can expand on the possabilities of zombies in a person's eyes. While Roberson has changed the myth of the zombie slightly to suit this book, Allred's work on the physical appearance of the zombie does the same, and for the better. It is not as if Zombies haven been featured in comics before.

*cough*Marvel Zombies

However, I cannot remember a recent comic that uses zombies in this fashion. Bravo to the creative team of Roberson and Allred for that.