Set up my Diaspora account (raven), and have been mildly annoyed that it apparently won't allow me to do line-breaks, and instead goes straight to "let us post this entry RIGHT NOW, Roo!" mode. I can get to the site on iOS pretty easily and make basic posts, but comments don't seem to work on iOS safari. I still have 2 invites left, anyhow.
What have I been posting about? Mostly Crocheting. And Design Hell. And Crocheting. You see, I've been able to crochet a chain for a long while, but doing anything beyond that's been rather brain numbingly not-working. I tried the stitch & bitch crochet book, and found it's basic instructions to be made of gibberish, with diagrams equally gibberishable. Followed that up with the crochet answer book, and found out that lo and behold: I can make the world's smallest potholder. Better diagrams, and a lot of swearing seem to help in this!
Now it's onto making a real sized potholder! But first a break, because I feel like my fingers are going to cramp up, and I need to stop swearing at the yarn.
Of course it's different every time, but this is roughly how I write comics.
An idea comes from somewhere. With the Rapid City project, it is usually something that I have faced in my own life. Let's say, for example, I notice how addiction can affect lives.
Then I start thinking about how that idea can be dramatized within the framework of my story. Because it is a superhero story, this usually means a fight. I have to think of ways that this idea can be presented as two different values in opposition. Off the top of my head, it could be something like an enemy turns out to be a former good guy who has gone astray due to an overwhelming addiction.
Now I start to think about how this will work in the comic. Most of my stories are about the character, Kinetic, learning how to be a hero, so this one will likely follow that model. So, what is the lesson he will learn from this encounter? Most likely, I would go with something a little more personal, but for the sake of this exercise I will say the lesson will be "drugs are trouble".
Now I start thinking about how I will lead Kinetic, and my audience, to that lesson. Usually, I work backwards. I think of the scene at the end that I want to get to. In this case it is Kinetic realizing that the man he is fighting used to be a respected hero, but an addiction has changed him.
The next step is plotting in broad strokes. What are the basic things that need to happen to get that scene to happen. I have to introduce Kinetic and his respect for the other hero. Then I have to show that Kinetic does not take this addiction seriously. To keep it in the superhero realm, I am going to say that it is an addiction to some kind of power-enhancement. So, he thinks that the "drug" is not that serious a problem because it has not affected some hero he respects, then he battles some guy, and that guy turns out to be that hero. Lesson learned!
Usually I write all of that in some kind of text document. Either an actual notebook or the text feature of a Celtx project. Very often I will run through this step many times with trouble shooting and making sure it all works.
Once it basically makes sense, I start the tight plotting. I use Celtx's "index cards" for this. For each thing that I know needs to happen, I make a note card. It doesn't really matter what order they are in at this point, as I can move them around. Once I have my tent-poles in place, I start thinking about what I need for each of them. If I know that Kinetic must come into contact with teh positive effects of this drug, then I must put him in a believable (by superhero standards) situation where this could happen. So, what do I need to show to lead up to that? What does the reader need to know in order for each scene to make sense.
In this case I need to show the reader what this stuff is, what it does, and establish Kinetic's opinion of it. Again, using conflict to express ideas works well is superhero comics. In this case I will have a fellow hero invite Kinetic along on a "raid" of some kind to bust people who are making this drug. Kinetic does not participate as the drug only affects those who use it voluntarily. Then a mention of "besides So-and-so uses it, and he's fine."
Still working with the index cards, I make sure that each tent-pole has all of the information and story momentum it needs to stay standing. Usually this is a process of filling in gaps by asking "why?" or what then?". There is a bunch of juggling and rewriting at this stage.
Because it is so focused on events, rather than ideas, this is where the story can run astray. Some really cool thing might logically happen next, but if it does not fit my "effects of addiction" theme, then I scrap it. Or find a way to make it fit. Or put aside for a later date. Reviewing my scenes with the thematic lens often reveals new ways to strengthen the theme and can help to further plug gaps.
About now I have the index cards that will be all of the scenes of my story. Not every card is a whole scene, and not every scene will even make it into the final script. This is my "raw footage" of what must happen.
In the same Celtx project in which I created the note cards, I open another comic book script file, this one I call "scratch pad". This is where I start writing my dialogue. I will usually start with some piece of exposition or conflict that I know needs to get done for the story to move on. With no thought to what is going on around them, I open up the characters and let them talk to eachother. "I think THIS." and "Yeah, well I think THIS!". I leave in all of the "umms" and repetitions and try hard to let the speaker's find their voices.
Once I have the spoken part of the scene so that it leads where I need it to lead, I cut and paste it from the scratch pad over to the issue script where I created the index cards. Celtx automatically turns the index card headings into page headings, so it is easy to drop the dialogue in the right place.
Now in the actual script, I start breaking the rambling conversations into discernible panels. The dialogue gets trimmed and tucked here. If a picture can say it instead, then it gets cut. The action and situation of the scene might suggest other changes as well.
And then it is working it through again and again from top to bottom.
Does the theme make sense? Do the main events express the theme? Are the main events made clear by the individual scenes? What would this character do? How would this other character react? Does it all express and support the theme?
Then there is line editing for clarity, and it's done.
It snowed today. Big, fluffy white flakes, lightly covering the ground. Over coffee I was told there were 3 inches of the stuff piled up, about a half hour north. "Enough to snowmobile on!" someone said, before refilling his tall coffee. With most of the leaves gone, it made the world look frosted; as if winter'd been here a fair bit of time, and we had been nothing but daydreaming fools to conjure up something as frivolous as summer.
It snowed today. The neighbor's cats curled up on their chair, together, for warmth and comfort, wanting to come back inside their home. I don't understand why their owner doesn't let them inside. They aren't bad cats. Just inside cats, befuddled by the out-of-doors and clinging to what's familiar. They spend much of their time sleeping on the chair outside, and staring at the door. They've been outside for weeks at this point, but still seem fed. At least they seem to know where their property is, and to stay out of the road. No point in calling animal control - the cats look healthy enough and they won't step in for clear cases of abuse, much less for two kitties left outside.
It snowed today. But you don't say it out-loud, or it will jinx things, make the snow come worse, horrible storms and wind and ice. So you gesture, or you spell it out, unless you're brave. Superstition clings in some areas. Or habit. We all know the winds don't come because you say it. But we try not to say it too much anyway.
It snowed today and the snow stayed upon the ground most of the morning, before vanishing into the earth, my plants turning yellow with the damp and the cold. The grape vine froze, and I said goodbye to summer.
One of the challenges of writing a superhero comic book which reflects and is inspired my own life is that the genre demands lots of high-energy conflict, while the source material is mercifully thin in that regard.
The way I usually address this is to write the inner and interpersonal conflicts realistically, and then let the super-battles grow out of them. And then sometimes the plot and the genre just demand some fights. So, sometimes I just do some fights.
For example, at the end of issue 13 I needed to show that the bad guy plan was bearing fruit. I needed to show that they were starting to beat heroes. So, what better way to show this than to have them take down the until-now invulnerable Sidekick? The scene work pretty well, as he is in one move, not only defeated physically, but also emotionally. He has never been hurt before. Relatively minor injuries open him up to the terror of vulnerability that everyone else deals with every day. For a scene which is essentially a plot point, it packs some punch.
Plus, it promises a heart-wrenching scene between Sidekick and Flamethrower. She has never seen him hurt before, and this new potential fear is something that they will have to work through together. Not really allegorical, but a nice scene.
And then the other day I was talking with my boss about the dangerous environment in which we work. After being punched by a student, I had to deal with the fact that I could actually get hurt here. That is scary for me, but it is far scarier for the people who love me. For example, my girlfriend.
What I thought I was writing as side-plot to advance the main story.... turns out was a pretty straight-up allegory for a very challenging dilemma I am currently facing.