Carriertone Studios

Detective Commons Part Four...

2011-02-26T17:13:00.000-08:00

Still continuing the adventures of Detective Commons and the Dead Ginger...

- C!

Angus motioned towards me with one of his big, hairy gorilla arms, flinging cigar ash onto one of his beautiful Persian rugs as he did so. I hobbled towards the fireplace, trying to think of what I was going to say to the man, but coming up empty. He pored me a glass of scotch, and invited me to have a seat. I didn’t like the way he had his arms crossed, but he probably didn’t like the fact that I was here at all, so I called it even. Angus stated that he knew why I was here, and that he had already given a statement to the police. I reassured him that I wasn’t a cop, and that they didn’t like me very much anyway and only called me in when the situation was too fucked for them to deal with. This made him grin the shit-eating-est grin I’ve ever seen, for reasons that were his own. He was very forthcoming with his answers, as if he already knew the questions before I did. He told me that Molly was a bit of a troubled girl, and that she had run away more times than he could count. This last time she had left to be with Larry “The Limey” Johnston, the son of rival Albino mob boss Rich “The Snitch” Johnston, which obviously displeased him. That’s some Romeo and Juliet, family busting type bullshit right there. He had seen videos on the internet, of the type a father should never have to see, of his daughter in very compromising positions. She had a drug problem, of which she had done some very dangerous things to facilitate. He gave me names, a virtual who’s who of the city’s underworld. Then, suddenly, he went silent.

Angus stared me right in the eye, an unwavering, terrifying stare. He grabbed my wrists with hands that were two sizes too big for any man’s arms, and shed a single, solitary tear. “You find this cocksucker, you bring him directly to me, alive. She was always trouble, that girl of mine, but she was my baby. Bring him to me, and forget we ever had this conversation. You hear me, Commons?” I heard him. His voice rattled around in my brain like a bullet from a .22 caliber handgun. He turned back towards the fire, picked up his glass, and that was it. It was time to go.

I gave the “door-goons” the two-finger salute, hopped in my 1987 Toyota Corolla, and tried to shake the feeling that this was going to be even messier by the time it was done with me. I turned on the radio, as my cassette player stopped working years ago and I was far too cheap to buy a CD player. The local public access station was begging for money again so I tuned the dial to static and rolled the information I’d gotten so far around in my head. Something wasn’t adding up, but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what it was. I looked in the rear-view as I was pulling away and saw chaos on the steps of Angus’ estate. I slammed on the brakes and jumped out. There was screaming coming from inside the house, and the two “door-goons” were hugging each other and crying just inside the door. The smell of gunpowder was overpowering, even from outside.

I ran in to see Angus’ lifeless body slumped over in his chair, the cigar still burning in his hand. He had three bullet holes, still smoking, in his chest and forehead. I called my buddy down at the station, told him what little I knew of the scene, and asked for twenty minutes alone in the house. I searched the “door-goons”, the wait-staff, his wife, even his prize Scottie dog. No guns. I searched the house, top to bottom. No guns. I checked the doors and windows. All locked. Interesting. Apparently his wife was in the next room when she heard the shots. She came running in and Angus was alone. I dusted for prints, checked for DNA, the whole nine yards. Nothing. All I had was another dead Ginger, and the smell of gunpowder. I needed a smoke.

Detective Commons Part Three...

2011-02-23T19:01:00.000-08:00

Continuing the tale of Detective Commons and the dead Ginger...

- C!

Recall works on the principle that since your mind can remember the past it must be a place you can go back to. It’s a bit flawed, logically speaking, but it works. Now, because you can’t remember the future, since you’ve probably never been there, it only works on the past. I don't know how it can take your body with it, but I’m no scientist, or I’d give a much better explanation in general. Just take it from me, it’s some crazy shit. The stronger the dose, the farther back you can go. Neat, huh?

Now, the bells were going off. The light bulb above my head was aglow. I had the modus operandi, but not the killer OR the motive. It was a start though. Stay with me here. So, way too many bullets to have been fired by the same gun WERE fired by the same gun. It all makes sense! Somebody sent multiple versions of him or herself from the future, to the same moment in the present, to take out poor Molly. She must have known the shooter, because there were no signs of a struggle, obvious or otherwise. I know, it seems way too easy, but I’m THAT good. Now, the big question remains. Why would anyone go to all that trouble? I mean, Recall leaves you with one hell of a hangover. I mean, it’s great if you like feeling as if you’re pregnant with knives, but most people frown upon that sort of experience.

Jimmy sat back, digging his fork around, obsessively, in the mostly untouched blueberry pie sitting on his plate. The smug look I’ve fondly come to know as “Cletus” sitting firmly on his face, unmoving, like a fat guy at a Hometown Buffet. “So…”

That’s all he had to say? “So?” God I hate Jimmy. He was right though.Those two letters spoke volumes. So, now what? So, where do we go from here? So, who’s got the check? I knew then exactly what I had to do, aside from paying the check because Jimmy is a worthless bastard. I needed to go see Angus, God help me.

Now, the Ginger part of town isn’t a bad place, per se. I mean, if you like your food boiled beyond recognition, and are an immense fan of wool, it’s the place for you. Me personally, I hate it. It’s up there with going to the proctologist after sitting at the DMV for a few hours. I’d rather eat my own feces while being punched in the nuts, but it was the only way. Fuck me.

Apparently, Angus knew I was coming. He had his two biggest men waiting for me outside, gloved hands pre-greased for the weapons inspection. Fuck me twice. I tried to tell them that I abhorred guns more than I hated my mother-in-law, but I have a feeling they just liked this part of the job due to the ear-to-ear grins on their faces. I was glad somebody was enjoying themself.

The twin “Lurches” obviously found nothing, not that they weren’t extremely thorough. I gathered my dignity, what was left of it at least, and limped inside. Angus was sitting by the fireplace in an 18th century duvet, sipping 18 year old scotch, smoking a cigar. I wished he’d close his legs, as I didn’t want to know what he had under his kilt, but it was far too late for that. Things that are seen cannot be unseen.

Music IS nostalgia.

2011-02-23T17:13:00.000-08:00

Taking a brief break from Detective Commons. I just vomited this onto the page last night. There's no real point to it, just getting stuff out of my head so I can have more room for Mr. Commons. Enjoy?

- C!

Music is important. Music is so much more than just notes and tones. Music is nostalgia. Music is memory. There isn’t anything, except maybe scents, that bring back lost or forgotten moments in time the way a good song does.

I think that may be why I like certain soundtracks so much. The Doctor Who or Torchwood scores by Murray Gold, or any of the numerous Danny Elfman works, in particular, really speak to me. When I hear them I swear I can close my eyes and re-run the show or movie in my mind in its entirety. They bring back not only the scenes, but the emotional weight they contain.

There are certain songs that take me back to my childhood, for good or ill. If I hear early Madonna or Michael Jackson I’m suddenly seven years old again, back in my parent’s backyard, playing G.I. Joes in the sandbox. Weird Al Yankovich’s “In 3-D” takes me to the greenbelt in my childhood neighborhood, where I would pick four-leaf clovers for my friends, because I had an uncanny gift for finding them. “Wish”, by The Cure, brings back the tears of my first break-up when I was fifteen years old and it seemed like the end of the world. It’s still the best break-up album of all times, in my humble opinion. When I was in eighth grade my best friend and I dreamed of becoming real life super heroes, literally building costumes and creating personas, and every time I hear the song “Waiting for the Night” by Depeche Mode I’m right back there, cruising the streets as fourteen year old vigilante “Nightfall”. Music is childhood. Music is love, and loss, and giggles.

And even still, every day, music is tying itself to new memories. Even though I had listened to it for years and loved it, Pink Floyd’s “Wish You Were Here” and its meaning changed one day. Now, every time it starts playing I’m instantly reliving a bad ecstasy trip in an ex-girlfriend’s bedroom, late for work and unable to move, and wishing it would stop all over again. Or when Mother Mother’s “Oh My Heart” starts playing it’s Monday night, and I’m at work after hours, putting out new product and giggling stupidly with two of my favorite people on the planet. “Polarity” by Haujobb transports me to the back alleys of Low-Town, the fictitious city in a comic I created a few years ago that that particular album inspired. Sometimes music creates its own memories, I suppose.

And I hold every one of these songs close to my heart to this day. They will never lose their importance in my life. Right now, I’m listening to Billy Bragg’s “A New England”, and thinking that maybe one day “that” song will take me back to “this” moment. Then again, maybe not. But it’s still a great song.

Detective Commons Part Two...

2011-02-05T19:10:00.000-08:00

Here is some more Detective Commons for your eyeballs...

- C!

I had just bitten into my pork-chop sandwich when it hit me. I’ll never know why pork-chop sandwiches are so good at jogging my memory. I call it pork-chop magic, and I have a trademark pending so watch it! Anyway, the Ginger had a name. Molly Macleod, the eldest daughter of Angus “Big Loon” Macleod, his pride and joy, who had run off many years earlier to avoid a pre-arranged marriage. Angus was one of the most powerful men in this city, and the head of the Ginger Mafia. This was bad news. Not for me, mind you, but for everyone else in this horrible, shit-stain of a city.

I twirled a French fry in some mayo (don’t judge me), and pondered the future. To say it seemed pretty bleak is simply a retarded statement. Fucked is the term I would use. Shit was about to get real, to use the vernacular.

I called the waitress over with my check, she scanned my credit chip, and I stepped outside to call my consulting detective. Why I, a consulting detective myself, has his own consulting detective is a long story. I’ll tell you about it some day when I’m good and drunk, as that’s the only way to properly tell it. Jimmy Bottoms had quite possibly the dumbest name in existence, next to my sister-in-law Hermione Asshat, but he was an expert in seeing minuscule, yet important, details that even I would miss. I rarely called on him, as he was a highly unstable and unreliable sort, a bit of a pervert, and usually high on a mix of painkillers, goat semen, and methamphetamines, but time was of the essence. Plus, I had my finger of judgement at the ready.

Not surprisingly, Jimmy was late. And high. Surprisingly, he had actually shaved and showered. Not for me of course. He said he had a date after our meeting, a brunette with three perfect breasts and an ass that could make a man cry. His words, not mine. I got right down to it, explaining what the case was like, showing him crime-scene photos, and trying not to picture his aforementioned date’s three perfect breasts.

Jimmy gave me “the look”. I wanted to stab him in the face when he did that. It meant that he had already found something I’d missed. He pointed to one of the photos, to the small trash-can in the back corner of the bedroom. There was a receipt sticking out, practically flipping me off and smiling at me for not noticing it. The date on this smug little piece of paper was for three Wednesdays from now! I now had an inkling of what I was dealing with here. Time-travel drugs, or Recall, as they’re known on the street. The Ginger’s main gift to society.

Detective Commons Part One...

2011-02-04T18:27:00.000-08:00

I have decided that I will be forcing my brain droppings on you, the unwitting internet, whenever I feel like it for the foreseeable future. It doesn't mean you have to like it, or even read it for that matter. I mean, it would be simply grand if you did, but I wouldn't cry anymore than normal if you didn't.

Here is some new shit. It may be a novel, or a series of short stories, or just the scribblings of a man on the brink of something or other. There's a fine line between madness and genius, and all that. If, after reading, you find that you develop Synesthesia, or start seeing demons in the mirror, put on your big girl panties and deal with it. Also, navel lint is a terrible substitute for tacos.

- C!

The girl’s body was still warm when I arrived on scene. The ball-gag still snug in her mouth, and the scent of sex and leather was strong in the air.

Why do I always get these crimes? How did I win the shit-crime lottery when I never even bought a ticket?

Anyway, she was a Ginger. It was always Gingers or Albinos in this part of town. The Gingers had been trying for years to get a piece of the Albino’s drug and prostitution racket, and in recent months things had begun heating up. You couldn’t turn on the telly without hearing of a sheep farm being blown to high heaven, or a late night shoot-out on the west side docks. It is job security for me, in any case, so that’s good.

I fished around for I.D. but, naturally, came up empty handed, since she was only wearing the ball-gag. She looked familiar though, really familiar.

I searched the scene for a glimpse of what went down, and the room told me such stories. The penthouse apartment was huge, but sparsely decorated and furnished. The heart shaped bed in the center of the room was tacky, but well used. The hardwood floor hadn’t been swept in a long time, except for the obvious spot where there had been a large oval shaped rug. There was a partially deflated sex doll in the corner, the look on its face almost sharing the look I must have had on mine. The cameras, six of them in total, weren’t aiming towards the bed as I’d expect, but instead at the room’s entrance. Dildos and hypodermic needles were all over the place, in equal number. Two framed photos of Bill Pullman guarded either side of the door, or one each of Bill Pullman and Bill Paxton, it’s really hard to tell those two apart. A broken mirror, with a smattering of blood and cocaine residue, lay on the bed next to the Ginger. There were 36 shell casings on the floor, all apparently from the same gun, but only 28 holes in the walls and furniture. Pools of blood, urine, and fecal matter covered much of the floor, yet there was just the one body. This must have been some party.

I went out into the hall to get some air, and to let the clean-up crew do their job. I had what I needed. Except a cigarette, I really needed a cigarette.

Then, I hear it.

“Detective Commons, you’re going to want to see this.”

Back in the apartment everyone looks like they’ve seen a ghost, not that it would surprise me at this point in my life. I walk over, casually, and bend down. The Ginger has been rolled onto her stomach. “What is it?”

Then I see it. A tramp stamp, “Property of the US Government” along with a serial number or something. Things just got a lot more interesting.

The first part of the first draft of my first novel...

2010-07-07T12:27:00.000-07:00

If you read this, please comment. I am still tweaking, especially the dialog towards the end. This is my first novel, and only the second thing I've really written, so I could use some guidance. I am looking for any constructive criticism you can give. Please be brutal. Okay, not brutal, but at the very least be honest. I'm not looking for a wank here, but I'm not looking for a kick in the bollocks either. :)

-Chapter One-

It had been a long day for Jeramy Scragbat. Well, no longer than the usual, if you want to get all literal about the subject, but that would be rude and just a bit boorish and you know it. Jeramy was rather tired. Not exhausted, mind you, just a bit worn out. He had spent the best part of his day, just as he spends most of his days, arguing with stupid, feeble-minded, short-sighted, and obnoxious people. The money was quite good though, so he slept very soundly most nights. He chose this profession for one simple reason, Jeramy is a bit of a bastard. He loves to wind people up, arguing with anybody about anything. He figured he might as well get paid for it. Now, why people pay for this service is another question entirely. Jeramy usually played the Devil’s advocate in these matters, not getting too involved with his clients. They primarily wanted to argue about subjects that Jeramy had very little to no interest in, which made it easy for him to do his job without exerting too much energy or thought. Today, however, the argument was about a personal favorite subject of his.

Restrooms. Specifically, the nicest, cleanest, most beautifully kept restrooms in the universe. Jeramy was, and still is I suppose, a bit of a connoisseur of water closets. He has always had a strange infatuation with them, ever since he visited the one in Flaglemoore’s Rest Stop and Sushi Bar on Beta Ghibli RU486, in the outskirts of the Yuggoth Nebula, when he was just a lad.

It was a fantastic, yet bewildering place. It was much, much larger than any restroom had any right to be, yet seemed so cozy and inviting. There were elaborate fountains, and famous works of art from all over the universe adorning the black, marble walls. Breathtaking, hand made rugs from the Windsor Province on Giger’s moon, Shimura, were placed delicately under foot as you walked, and then burned to ash to never be used again. Every customer had their very own roll of only the softest, yet most durable, toilet paper available in any of the nine hundred thousand and six known systems, as well as their own stall and steward, which were all ejected into space immediately after use. Each patron is massaged and anointed with delicate oils and petals from the rare and beautiful Scaris Celestia blossom, by the six armed Courtesans of Cleef, while they do their business.

Flaglemoore’s knew how to treat a weary traveler, to be sure. Jeramy had never, in his young life, felt so special. It was the first time he cried, a single tear running down his cheek, coming to rest on his lapel before being completely absorbed by the fine silk. Jeramy has never washed, or worn, that shirt since. It lay in a box full of other precious keepsakes, like his first edition book of death sonnets signed by it’s author, Rygel Emerson Finepants III, in his attic, in a corner all by itself.

Where were we? Oh yes, Jeramy’s client was trying, very ineffectually, to convince him that the restroom in the sky mall on Antares 3 was in fact the nicest in the universe. Jeramy, as well as anyone with an IQ higher than that of a dust mop, knows this is simply untrue and a quite laughable statement. Antares 3 USED TO have the nicest washroom in the universe, at least according to Galaxy Basin magazine, until the new owner decided to use substandard bog roll. Since then, Galaxy Basin magazine, and anyone else with half the brain of an Onsolenese Space Worm, has given this prestigious status to the lavatory inside the gift shop of the Royal Canadian Embassy on the planet Albion Minor. Jeramy was becoming more frustrated with this particular client’s special brand of stupidity with every slowly passing moment. Then, just as Jeramy couldn’t stand anymore and was about to launch himself across the table, closed fist at the ready, the client stood up, bowed, thanked him for a wonderful session, and calmly walked out the side door into the night.

Once home, Jeramy had his usual dinner of a double Strontium Bollocks, which is a lot like a whiskey and cola that kicks you in the throat on the way down. His head began spinning almost immediately, and he lay down on the little faux leather love seat in the corner, and tried to put the day behind himself. He grabbed, almost blindly, for his remote control, and began mashing buttons until the Holovision finally turned on. Jeramy began listlessly flipping channels, stopping only for a few meager seconds on each one, just long enough to see it was crap, then moving on to the next. He finally set the channel on INN, the Interstellar News Network, a subsidiary of Fox Galactic Broadcasting, out of pure boredom, and closed his eyes. He lay there for a few minutes, half listening, half inside his own head.

He was so lost in thought that he just barely heard the announcer mention the word “Flaglemoore”. It took a few microseconds to sink in, but once his alcohol soaked brain processed the information, and he realized what was being said, he shot up! He rubbed his eyes with both hands, let out a yawn, and strained to find focus. He flailed in the dark for the remote, knocking his beverage over right into his left shoe. Jeramy turned the volume way up, to the disgust of his neighbor who began pounding madly on the wall they shared. “Will you shut the fuck up, you daft bastard! I’m trying to hear the news!” Jeramy screamed at his stupid, stupid neighbor.

Jeramy couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “So this will be the last week Flaglemoore’s will serve it’s devoted public. It is a very sad day for this quadrant indeed. This is Harmonica Asshat, live from Flaglemoore’s Rest Stop and Sushi Bar. Back to you in the studio, Bill.”

Jeramy leaped off the love seat, nearly tripping over his laundry basket ,which he kept meaning to move to the bedroom, but never quite got around to. He knelt in front of the Holo, right in a puddle of something sticky, and stared at the image before him. “This isn’t right,” he mumbled to himself. He pressed a button on his neck, to activate his phone plug-in, and grunted, “Work”. The phone rang three or four times, as Jeramy waited impatiently. Just as he was about to hang up and try again, he heard a gruff, “Hello?”

“Hey Steve, it’s me, Jeramy. I’m going to need a few weeks off.”

“Jeramy? This is sort of last minute, don’tcha think?”

“Steve, listen to me. This is important. I’ve got at least three weeks vacation time saved up, and at least a week of medical leave.”

“Jeramy, this is simply not like you. I want an explanation. You know we’re a family here, right?”

“You just wouldn’t understand. I’m sorry to spring this on you last minute like this, Steve, but I need at least four weeks, maybe more. I’ll see you soon.”

“Just wait a second here! I can’t replace you on such short notice. Jeramy, be sensible! If you do this, I’ll be forced to fire you!”

“You know what, Steve? Fine! Fire me! I have to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Steve, I’ve got to go to the bathroom.”

San Diego Comic-Con 2010, Long Beach Comic Expo, Gallifrey 21, and other stuff...

2010-02-24T18:35:00.000-08:00

So, Comic-Con is just around the corner again! Just like last year, I have a story in Tales Of The Supernatural that will be available at our booth. This one is actually a rerun though. This is a story I had published in another anthology 4 years ago or so. Mike Colbert and I were never quite satisfied with how it turned out, so I am re-scanning, re-coloring, and re-lettering it. I have grown by leaps and bounds as an artist since then, but I am still really proud of this little redneck horror story. It's only six pages long, but it has an incredibly cool ending you'll never see coming! Here's a sneak peek!

In other news, last week was Long Beach Comic Expo. I didn't go, unfortunately, but it's gotten great reviews! Mike Mignola (Hellboy) called it "cute", I think in a good way. :) If it was half as much fun as the Long Beach Comic-Con they put on a few months ago, then it must have been great!

This weekend is Gallifrey! It's the 21st annual Los Angeles Doctor Who convention. I went last year, and had a blast, so I am really looking forward to this year's festivities. Thursday night is the Podshock meet-up, which means a lot of drinking and nerding out for me! There will be panels on Doctor Who, Torchwood, sci-fi, comics, etc. Georgia Moffat (Jenny - The Doctor's Daughter) is one of the guests of honor, as well as Sarah Sutton (Nyssa), Katy Manning (Jo Grant), Joshua Hale Fialkov (Elk's Run, Punks: The Comic), Graeme Harper, Phil Ford, Tony Lee (Doctor Who comics), Paul Cornell (Family of Blood, Captain Britain & MI13), Marv Wolfman(Co-Creator of The New Teen Titans), Mark Waid, Bob Baker (K-9 Creator), and many more! It officially starts on Friday, so if you're a fan, and you're in L.A., you won't want to miss out!

Cheers,
- C!

Eggcream and other stuff...

2010-02-15T22:46:00.001-08:00

So, years ago I had a dream. From this dream comes Eggcream & Pantalones! Do you like sneak peeks? Well, do ya!? Here is the character sketch for Eggcream, and 5 panels from the first E&P story. It's a seventies buddy cop comic. Think the Beastie Boys "Sabotage" video, but way more fucked up. Gaaaaaacy! It's basically a place to put any ideas I have that don't fit anywhere else. Plus, some Halloween doodles I have never posted before. Click the pics to make them BIGGER.

Cheers!
- C!

Dr. Strange and commissions...

2010-02-06T15:11:00.000-08:00

Here is a commission I did the other night. I was really happy it was the good doctor, as he is one of my favorite characters. Anybody want a Creeper, Metal Men, or Doom Patrol piece?

I have been doing 8 1/2 x 11 pencil/ink drawings for $25.00, or 11 x 17 for $50.00 if anyone is interested. Any one character with full background. Doesn't even have to be from a comic. Have a favorite TV or movie character? Actor? Athlete? If it's one of my favorites, well all the better then. Help me pay my bills until I find more work. :)

I will be updating with a full color version by tonight.

Cheers,
- C!

2010 and onward...

2010-02-01T13:06:00.000-08:00

So, it's no secret that 2008 and 2009 kind of sucked. Not just for me, but for a lot of people. 2008 was pretty bad, and I couldn't wait for it to be over.

Then 2009 came along to show 2008 how to properly screw us all over. The year started out with my mom having a stroke, then I lost two dear friends, then Comic Universe closed it's doors and I was unemployed, then I lost one of my favorite people in the world to suicide. And that's just MY year. Don't get me wrong, there were some really great moments too (San Diego Comic-Con being one of the best), but I still wanted to take 2009 out back and shoot it in the face.

Luckily, 2010 came along and did just that. He took 2009 by the collar, kicked him out the door, and warned him never to return. I like that 2010 guy.

Well, my new year is going great so far. It's making up, in quick succession, for the failings of the previous two years of fuckery. I'm somewhat unemployed again, but I've met so many new friends in the last month. I've met a really cool, albeit crazy, girl. I've been drawing a lot more, and I have so many cool things coming up the pipeline. I am happier than I've been in a very long time. I'm just letting the world take me where it needs me to go, which is weird for someone with my control issues.

I have a feeling 2010 and I are going to be great friends. :)

RIP 2009. You were a dick and I'm glad you're gone.

Cheers,
- C!

Doctor Who: The End Of Time part one sneak peek.

2009-11-20T12:40:00.001-08:00

There be spoilers ahead.

Some more Waking World goodness.

2009-11-19T18:13:00.001-08:00

So, here we have some scans of the first five pages to Waking World: Recall, done in 2002. I used sharpies back then for pretty much everything, and these pages show it. They have faded quite a bit in the past 7 years so these scans aren't great. The white stripe in the middle of pages 2 & 3 is unfortunate, but because of my scanner it has to be there. Can you tell that I was a huge Brian Michael Bendis fan in 2002? Yeah, it's a bit talky, but I love writing dialog so deal with it. I have a partially salvaged page 6 that I may scan in soon as well. Click the pics for full size.

- C

Waking World rises from it's seven year slumber, sort of.

2009-11-18T23:25:00.001-08:00

Waking World was a project I started in 2001. Sort of a cross between Pan's Labrynth and Blade Runner I suppose. I was listening to Haujobb's brilliant album Polarity a lot back then, and it just created these images and stories in my head. I couldn't stop myself from creating. The only problem was, I wasn't comfortable with my writing back then. I had a very detailed, page-by-page plot, but was having trouble turning that into a cohesive story. Enter Casey Faulkner.

Casey was (and still is) a great friend of mine, and a brilliant writer to boot. We had many conversations, and shared many similar interests and ideas, and I knew he was the perfect writer for this. We got together many times, and he loved my basic plot/story. He didn't try to change things, but instead added so much to it. It was my first great experience working with another person creatively. We were going to tackle the issues of racism, class-ism, white collar crime, recreational drug use, the lengths people are willing to go to protect their own, and what it means to believe in a god in this day and age, among many other things all while telling a great science fiction crime drama. I was even more excited than before! He added a prologue that amped the story up a million notches. The pages were flowing out of me like crazy.

Then one day in mid-2002 the bad news came. Casey's car was broken into and much of the work was gone. His bag and laptop were stolen. Months of work down the drain. I was truly heartbroken, as this was, and still is to this day, my favorite work. I stopped working on it almost immediately, and I've never looked back until now.

I've recently found a bunch of the character sketches though, and even a few finished pages, so I thought I'd post them here. I like the style I've grown into over the intervening years, but am astonished at the level of detail I used to employ. I don't remember the whole of the story, but the basic plot elements are still there at the back of my braino-thingy. Finding these pages has really inspired me. I've begun sketching these characters again, and am re-working the basic plot into a script so I can begin anew. Waking World may still see the light of day sometime in the near future. Stay tuned. For now, here is some old shit. Click the pics for full size, and thanks for looking.

This is the main protagonist, Lycia. She is an Elven bounty hunter/gun for hire. She is the best there is. Period. If she's looking for you, you will be found. If you run, you just make it more fun for her. She is loyal almost to a fault, but if you get on her bad side...
I first penciled this in 2001, and just recently inked it. I still love those boots!

This is Lycia's best friend, and sometime lover, Lucy Gunmetal. She runs the bar The Zone where the criminals and other lowlifes hang out. She, however, is one of the good guys, always listening and feeding Lycia information. She's a tough girl with a big heart. This was done in 2002 sometime.

And here we have Lycia and Lucy together. Again from 2002. For some reason I changed Lycia's look a bit, maybe trying to make her look tougher? Now I'm not so fond of it. Also, that gun is way cheesy.

Here is a scan of a print-out of a piece I did to show off the cast. This is also from 2002. I designed the logo as well. I don't remember many of these character's names, but I remember their purposes in the story.

The guy with the gas mask thing is Lexicon, another ex-lover of Lycia, and her heaviest competition. They are still somewhat friends, as long as there is no money on the line.

The guy with the stupid looking blonde hair was a petty criminal who stumbled onto something big, and therefore became Lycia's target.

The guy with the wings is Archangel, or Archie as Lycia calls him to his chagrin. He is the big money in the upper levels of the city, and the most powerful person in this world.

The guy with the crown is the big boss of Low-town, primarily the Rotlicht. If you need anything, he will get it for you at a price, but if you cross him you'd better leave the planet.

The person with all the glowy bits is... well, I'll leave that until later.

This is an old, really bad scan of the first page. I still love this page so much, especially the cybernetic panel borders.

Well, that's it for this trip down memory lane.

I will try to get some good scans of the other pages very soon. Keep watching this space for some new stuff in the next few weeks as well. I feel my writing skills may finally be up to the challenge now, so I may have some new pages up very soon. Let me know if this is something you would be interested in seeing more of. Comments, as well as criticisms, are always appreciated and encouraging as long as they are constructive.

- Carl

Some quick thoughts...

2009-11-11T21:08:00.001-08:00

So, my friend Adam, who was my best friend throughout high school and long after wards, who moved to Washington to live near me, who was like a brother to me for many years, and whose family treated me like I was blood, was found dead Monday morning due to self inflicted gunshot wounds. I haven't spoken to him in 5 years, after we had a falling out and lost contact, but this news really rocked my world.

It's weird. His death hasn't really upset me, it's more the fact that everyone who moved to Washington because of me has died in the last year. I wonder if they hadn't moved, would they still be alive today? Or, would things have progressed in the same ways? Do we really die "in our time"? Is this thought process selfish? Self absorbed? Either way, Adam has left the building.

Now, I'm just left wondering. Why did he do it? Was his life in Washington so bad that he felt this was his only way out? Did his family or friends see this coming, see any signs?

Adam could really be an asshole. It's true, and he would have admitted it. He was blunt, honest, and kind of a dick. But he was also one of the most loyal and generous people I have ever known. He tried to hide it, but he was also very caring and loving with his friends. He loved his friends and family almost to a fault sometimes. He will be very missed.

The one good thing to come out of all of this is that I have somewhat reconnected with good friends I haven't seen in years. People I still care about but just haven't had a reason to contact, until now. They are asking the same questions. And nobody has any answers. But at least we have each other again.

Rest in Peace Adam.

And a couple new pieces

2009-10-07T16:55:00.001-07:00

Here are a couple pieces I've done lately. I've been doing quick 20 minute pieces every day, then adding color in Photoshop.

Drink & Draw shenanigans...

2009-10-07T16:31:00.000-07:00

Well, the Drink & Draw OC Chapter is 6 months old this week! So, I thought I'd share some of my personal favorite drawings I've done in the last 1/2 year. There is plenty more where this came from.

If you haven't been by yet, you need to be there next Tuesday at http://www.aztecamexicanrestaurant.org. It is always a blast, and the new jukebox is awesome! More info is here: http://www.facebook.com/groups.php?ref=sb#/group.php?gid=93518072095

- Carl

Wrestling! Deadman! Long Beach Comic-Con!

2009-10-01T16:12:00.000-07:00

So, it's been a while since I've updated here. I have been job hunting like crazy since May, and still trying to do the odd comic/art job here and there. I start my new job next Friday though, and this weekend is the first annual Long Beach Comic-Con! More on that in a bit though.

Here is a picture of Deadman that I drew yesterday, and colored today. Really simple colors, but it looks good, no? This is the first successful free time drawing I've done in ages. It seems like when I have substantial downtime, my inspiration takes a vacation. I had plenty of things to do yesterday, but when inspiration comes knocking you have to answer the door. Hopefully, this inspiration will continue for the foreseeable future. Fingers crossed. I'm really proud of this piece though, and I hope you like it.

Now, back to LBCC. I will be sketching at the Mach 1 Wrestling booth. Wrestling booth, you ask? Yep. I designed the t-shirts that they will have available at a big event happening there, and probably at the booth as well. It was a fun piece to design, even though it was really short notice and some of the files were very small. I think it turned out really well though. I am a wizard when it comes to deadlines. I had, basically, about 24 hours to create it so they could get it screen printed in time for the Con. If you are going, make sure to stop by and say hi!

Well, I'm off to draw some more. Cheers!

- C

So, my life is crazy fun.

2009-07-29T00:02:00.001-07:00

New logo for OC Drink and Draw!

Also, Comic-Con was awesome this year! I finally got to meet Molly McIsaac, which was EPIC! Plus, Willie, Tony, Mike Colbert, Ben Templesmith, Tony Lee, James Moran, Dave Gibbons, Livesay, Brad Walker, iFanboy, and so many other cool people! I drank a lot, which is usual, but this year it was different. When I'm more lucid I will post more, including pictures. Crazy week is over now though, so it's back to job hunting, Bitter Pill, and lettering. I can't wait until next year! See you there!

- C

New cover!

2009-07-02T20:05:00.001-07:00

Here is the finished cover to my comic, coming to Comic-Con 2009! Penciled, colored, and logo-ed by me and inked by Livesay!

- C

8th Doctor and a Zygon.

2009-06-10T19:20:00.000-07:00

So here it is, the finished Paul McGann Doctor Who piece I've been working on these past few days.

Why McGann you might ask? Well, even though his 1996 movie had it's faults, he was FANTASTIC as the Doctor. I feel really bad that my country sucks and didn't watch it, because he never got another chance (well, Big Finish Audio counts I guess) to portray our favorite time-traveling gypsy. I was looking forward to a new Doctor season, with new enemies, a new TARDIS control room, etc. Unfortunately we had to wait almost ten more years before Russel T. Davies brought the Doctor back. And boy did he bring it back!

I still may add some spacey background stuff in the top right corner, but as it stands I think it turned out pretty well.

Drink & Draw OC Chapter!

2009-06-02T18:21:00.000-07:00

The Drink & Draw Social Club OC Chapter meets tonight for the second week in a row!

Azteca Mexican Restaurant/Crooners Lounge
12911 Historical Main St
Downtown Garden Grove
9 PM - whenever we run out of art supplies or drinks!
Come hang out, even if you don't drink OR draw. We have the whole restaurant to ourselves, so it's all ages tonight! Do it for the children!

Logo by Rev. Dave Johnson

Doctor Who - The Sands of Shara

2009-05-25T15:34:00.000-07:00

Well, barring any grammatical or spelling errors, here is my 4th and (hopefully) final draft. Please, if you read it, comment. Any comments, criticisms, or advice will be taken to heart. Oh yeah, Dr. Who News linked to it on www.twitter.com/DrWhoNews the other day! Awesome! Enjoy!

Doctor Who - The Sands of Shara

By Carl Jansson

Summary

There is something strange and terrifying going on at the Siwa Oasis in the western desert. There is a haunted dig site and a frustrated archaeology professor. And what are those strange glass statues? Can the Doctor solve the mystery before it’s too late?

Chapter One

It is a Thursday in 1946. It could be any Thursday. It is a day just like any other in the western desert. The scorching Egyptian sun shines down, oppressively, making everything hot and sticky. The sandstorms ebb and flow, blanketing the Siwa Oasis dig site in a fine patina of dust and sand as old as the planet itself.

It is eerily quiet amongst the ruins of mud-brick houses and Shali Ghali, the ancient fortress of Siwa. The towering citadel casts a haunting shadow across the desert floor. It has been a few years since the Ahmad Fakhri dig, and Emil Shara is now taking up where Ahmad left off, with funding from a mysterious benefactor.

Most of the crew have retired for the day, but Tara and Clive, two young archaeology students of Professor Shara, have stayed behind, using soft brushes to clean up two strange artifacts they've just unearthed.

Tara is in her early twenties, with dazzling blue eyes, burgundy hair styled in a bob, and curiously pale skin for a girl who has been working in the sun for the past three weeks. She chose to spend her summer away from school, on location, to “learn what the books cannot teach me”. Tara has only known Clive for the three weeks they have been working together, and, even though she has not said so, cannot wait until she is away from him.

"These are much older than anything we've discovered out here," exclaims Tara, "I've never seen anything like them."

"No, I suppose YOU haven't," Clive agrees, condescendingly.

Clive is rather tall, with well worn hands and skin from years of working. He comes from the North of England, where he lives with his mother and father. Clive is attending college on scholarship, one that he never thought he would acquire. He has had to work hard his entire life for everything he has, and has an attitude that reflects it.

Tara holds up one of the relics, examining its strange unearthly sheen closely.

"They just don't look like they belong here, in Egypt," says Tara, looking frustrated, "In fact, I don't know where they belong. What are they even made of? Clive?"

"Just do your job, I've got to use the toilet," Clive says, as he starts to walk away, in his usual foul mood.

There is a strange sound accompanied by a rustling of sand behind them.

"What was that?" Tara asks.

"What was what? I didn't hear anyth..."

Clive is cut off as a giant wall of sand rises from the desert floor around them. The wall starts to take on a vaguely humanoid shape.

"Tara, RUN! Get to the..."

Clive is cut off again as the sand giant envelopes them both, muffling any possibility of a scream. Then, the sand subsides, and all that is left are two shimmering glass statues.

Chapter Two

It is ten minutes later, a little more than a mile away. This part of the desert is calm, even serene. There are a few camels off in the distance, but sandstorms have wiped away any trace of recent activity in this area. A lone girl rides along the dunes, on a magnificent white stallion. She is protected almost head to toe with beautiful and expensive looking robes and scarves, except for her brilliant blue eyes.

There is a strange, unnatural sound cutting through the tranquility. “Vworp! Vworp! Vworp!” A slight wind kicks up sand and debris, causing her steed to startle and throw her to the ground with an "Oomph!" A peculiar blue box appears, where just seconds before there was only desert. As she lay there, staring quizzically at this new addition to her surroundings, a door opens on the side of the box.

"What?" A voice from inside can almost be heard. "What?" The voice gets louder. "What?!"

A man steps out of the doorway, wearing trainers, a pinstripe suit and trench coat, carrying an umbrella.

"Well, this surely isn't Barcelona! Well, it could be, couldn't it?"

"Wait a tic," the man turns to go back inside.

Seconds later he returns, "Nope, definitely not Barcelona," exclaims the man from the box, “Why is it never Barcelona?”

He turns and sees a girl lying on the ground. "You," he yells, "what year is this?"

The girl climbs to her feet, cautiously, and addresses the Doctor, "Who are you?!"

The man offers her his hand, and with a big, bright smile introduces himself. "Why, I'm the Doctor! You look like you could use a hand."

"What is that, that thing?" She asks, pointing towards the big blue box.

"Oh that. Just a box. Never mind that though, are you alright? Looks like you had a nasty fall back there. Well, I say fall. Maybe summer, it's a bit warm for fall, don't you think?"

He smiles again, ear to ear this time, pleased with his last bit of wordplay. This seems to ease the girl a bit, and she reaches out her hand toward the Doctor.

"My name is Sara. It's a pleasure to meet you, doctor, um...doctor who?"

“Just the Doctor is fine. Soooo, what year is it then? I'd say late 19th, no, mid 20th century. Am I right? Of course I'm right, I'm the Doctor! I mean, I have been wrong before, but we needn't go there now. Nineteen forty-six sound about right?"

Sara looks at him as if he were thick.

The Doctor asks, "So then, where are we, geographically speaking, as it were?"

"Egypt," Sara replies, "the western desert, near Libya.”

"Ooh, the desert. I don't have much luck with deserts I'm afraid," the Doctor says with a look of slight disappointment on his face. "This one time, there was this bus, and a jewel thief, her name was Christina, and, well... since I’m here, I could use a tour guide. You busy? Of course you’re not, you don’t look busy."

Sara smiles at him and reaches out her hand. the Doctor smiles, grabs her hand, and starts toward the town of Siwa.

The Doctor and Sara come to the top of a dune, and looking down he asks, "What's that then? It looks like people have been digging. It looks fantastic!"

"Oh, no." Sara says, "We can't go down there. That's a bad place. Terrible things happen there."

The Doctor looks down at the site. It is desolate, surrounded by empty tents and the ruins of mud huts. "Oh, how cryptic. I like cryptic. But, how do you know? Have you even been down there? Of course you haven't. Let's have a peek then,” the Doctor says, again with his boyish, innocent smile. “Just a little one. Please?"

Sara doesn't even have time to protest, as the Doctor grabs her hand once again, and off they go down the dune.

The Doctor looks around the site, pacing, hands clasped behind his back, in deep concentration. "Now, I wonder..." He says to himself, and strokes his chin.

Sara is admiring some, seemingly, glass statues. She reaches out her hand to touch the face of the female, when the Doctor shouts, "Don't!" Sara jumps back a bit, and declares, "They are so beautiful though, yet sad. Look at their faces Doctor. Who would carve such things?"

The Doctor looks concerned, "There's something wrong here. Where is everybody? This place looks abandoned. There should be people, archaeologists, something!"

The Doctor reaches into his pocket and pulls out a yo-yo, then a water pistol, then a packet of jelly babies.

"Oh, come on! I know it's here somewhere. Ah! There you are"

He pulls out his Sonic Screwdriver, smiles, and gives it a kiss. He aims the Sonic at the statue, and it starts buzzing and whirring. Then again, at the other statue. With a saddened, yet angry look on his face he states, "Those weren't sculpted. Those were people"

Sara looks horrified. The Doctor puts away his Sonic, and just stands there thinking a moment, hands in his pockets. It is as if he’s waiting for something.
There's a quiet rustle behind them, like sands ever so slightly shifting.

"You may have been right about this place after all. Sara, RUN!!!"

Just then, a wall of sand rises up blocking their path. Sara jumps backward and shouts, “Doctor! What do we do?!”

A strange sound emits from the sand, loud and piercing, almost like a shriek. "Other way, go the other way!" shouts The Doctor. And off they run, the sand subsiding behind them.

Chapter Three

In the center of the city of Siwa, two local men are arguing loudly, while passersby go about their business. The men are both dressed similarly, in brown shirt, shorts, socks, and boots. One is wearing a scarf wrapped around his head, the other is wearing a fedora. The younger one, with the scarf, is Professor Arnold Liggit, of the University of London. The elder is Dr. Emil Shara, the head of the local archaeological expedition, as well as Professor and Head of Archaeology at the University of Buckingham.

"But Emil, we've already lost ten men! Now Tara and Clive haven't returned! These sandstorms appear out of nowhere, and they get worse every day! We simply must pull out!"

Mr. Liggit is exasperated with Emil’s attitude toward his men, as well as the entire expedition. Mr. Liggit joined the expedition to gain some notoriety, just as Emil, however he is not pleased with their progress.

“Emil! Are you even listening to me?”

Emil is pacing back and forth, while traders and merchants ply their trades.

"Bollocks! I've put a lot of money into this dig, and I want results! I have more men on the way. Nothing will stop this expedition. Nothing!" shouts Emil as he storms off into his tent, the small wooden door closing behind him with a loud slam. Mr. Liggit looks on with a mixture of anger, and disbelief, but a commotion up ahead takes away his attention.

"Mister Liggit! Come quickly!"

A local man in simple robes is running towards Mr. Liggit.

"Two more statues have appeared at the site! And Sara has brought a man, a doctor, she found in the desert!"

Mr. Liggit looks up to see Sara and the Doctor trotting up on horseback. The Doctor smiles, gives a quick wave, and says, "Allo, I'm the Doctor!" Mr.Liggit doesn't look amused.

"What the devil is going on here? Why were you wandering around in the desert? Where have you come from?"

The Doctor, pointing at Mr. Liggit, angrily replies, "Now hold on there, I've got some questions of my own!"

The Doctor climbs down off the horse, puts on his brainy specs, and starts towards Mr. Liggit.

"Numero Uno, where are all the archaeologists? This IS an archaeological expedition, right? There should at least be a few archaeologists, um… digging. I mean, I don’t know much about archaeology, well, I do know a bit. A teensy bit, mind you, but enough to know there should be at least a few archaeologists.”

The Doctor takes another step toward Mr. Liggit, and Mr. Liggit takes a step back.

“Number two, what were those horrifying glass menageries? Who is responsible for those? There is something terribly wrong going on here, and I want some answers!”

The Doctor stops for a moment, clears his throat, and says, “And third, could I have some water? I'm terribly thirsty you know. Walking 'round the desert and all that. It takes a lot out of a man, even a doctor. This heat makes it terribly hard to think."

And with that, the Doctor opens his umbrella and walks off toward the tents while everyone else looks on with a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

Chapter Four

Emil Shara is in his tent, surrounded by crates and maps, shouting wildly into the phone.

"What do you mean three weeks!? This is unbelievable! I need those men now! Do I have to fly back there and pick them up myself? Well, thank you for your time!"

He slams the phone down on the receiver.

"Bloody prat!"

Emil darts out of the tent, right into the Doctor. He takes a step back and brushes off his chest.

"Well, allo," says the Doctor, "And who might you be? Hmmm?"

"Who IS this fool!? I'm Dr. Emil Shara! Who the bloody hell are you!?"

Emil puffs out his chest, hands clenched into tight fists at his side. The Doctor smiles, "Well, Doctor, I'm the Doctor! Pleased to meet me, um… you!"

Emil steps back, "What is going on here? Has everyone lost their senses?"

Mr. Liggit puts his arm around Emil.

"Emil. We are about to get to the bottom of this. This Doctor thinks he can help. He seems to think that the dig site is protected, or haunted, or something. Unbelievable, I know, but he seems to have answers to a lot of our questions. Don't you Doctor?"

The Doctor puts his hands in his pockets and blushes.

"Well, I have more questions than answers right now, mind you. But I may be able to shed some light on things, if you have an open mind that is. But first, let me see the other statues. I may have a theory."

Emil shakes his fist in the air, and shouts, “Now wait just a bloody second, Doctor, or whoever you are!”

“Oh, Emil,” Mr. Liggit counters, “If this man, this Doctor, can help, my advice would be to hear him out.”

Sara comes running up with a canteen, and hands it to the Doctor.

“Thank you Sara,” says the Doctor, as he takes a drink.

“Emil, I’ve said that I may have a theory about what’s going on here, but first I need to see the other statues. It’s the only way I’m going to get you the answers you seek. I can see you are a determined man, ready to get on with the expedition, so let me help you.”

Emil’s demeanor calms a bit, and he turns toward the door. “Very well, Doctor, come with me.”

Emil takes the Doctor around back, to a locked supply tent. Emil reaches into his pocket for his keys, and explains, “At first we didn’t know what to think. We… we didn’t realize what they were. We lost 13 men on that first day. We didn’t know WHAT was happening, but we needed to get this dig completed. I’ve lost far too much time and money here. I told what was left of my men to watch out for each other. Not one person was to go out there alone. And now Tara and Clive… it’s just horrible.”

As soon as the tent is opened, the Doctor rushes in, his Burberry wafting on the breeze. The Doctor pulls out his Sonic Screwdriver and starts examining the first of the statues.

“Now then, let me look at you! What happened to you? Aha! Brilliant! I think I know what we’re dealing with here. See I told you I’d figure it out. You may not know it, but I’m quite clever. Now, come on.”

The Doctor turns and leads the group back to Emil’s tent.

With everyone sitting around a rather small wooden table, the Doctor goes on to explain that something in that desert doesn't want the site disturbed.

"I don't know what's out there, exactly, but I'm going to find out. At least now, I know where to start. And I do SO love a challenge," the Doctor says with a smile, "Now, who's with me?"

Not a single sound from the group surrounding The Doctor.

"Nobody? Really? Well, I'm not used to that. Usually I can't stop people from coming with, whether I want them to or not. Suit yourselves then."

"Now wait just one second!" Emil stands up, knuckles on the table before them. "I don’t even know who you are, not really at least. Don't you dare go into MY site! With all the time I've lost already, I can't afford anything being disturbed!"

The Doctor glares at Emil, "Oh Emil, this bit again? What about the men and women you've lost!? What about them? All you care about is money and fame! Money won't bring your men back, and neither will fame, but maybe I can!"

Sara stands up and says, "I'm with you! This is my home, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let any more people suffer!"

Three other local men stand up, and together shout, "Me too!"

The Doctor smiles, and says to Sara, "I'm good, eh?" Then, to the rest of the group, "All right then, get whatever you're going to need and let's go! Allons-y!"

Emil grumbles under his breath.

Chapter Five

The site is still vacant. There is an uneasy calm about it. The Doctor has already felt it, but it's different this time. There are forces at work that the Doctor has felt before, if only he could remember where.

“Everyone here then?" asks the Doctor, "well, of course you are. Brilliant!"

As backpacks are being unloaded, the Doctor takes a walk. He walks toward a Minaret in the distance. It looks strangely familiar to him, yet out of sync with his surroundings.

"Now then, what are you doing out here? Strange indeed…"

The Doctor mutters to himself, "There's something not quite right here. Where ARE you? What ARE you? What are you trying to protect?"

He sees something on the ground, shimmering in the noonday sun, half buried. Just as he's about to pick it up, Sara shouts, "Doctor!"

"Doctor, I don't see anything helpful here, maybe we should just leave. It doesn't feel right."

Just then, screams, screams all around them!

"Sara, stay here! I've lost too many people already, I won’t lose one more."

The Doctor runs off, and Sara grins a little mischievous grin.

The Doctor appears just as Emil is falling to his knees, dust settling all around him.

"They were everywhere! All around us. I told you we shouldn't come here!"

Emil is starting to lose it. The Doctor tries to console him, but it's too late for that. Emil jumps up and runs off into the desert toward town.

"Wait! Emil! Well, that was quick. A bit emotional, that one is," the Doctor mumbles, "Where are you? Why won't you show yourselves? Come on, I’m just a doctor."

As the Doctor says this, a shadow slowly rises behind him, blocking the sun. Under his breath the Doctor says, "There we go."

He spins around, Sonic in hand, and aims it at the giant. The creature lets out a shriek, just like the one from before, and starts to dissolve.

"No!" the Doctor shouts again, "No! Whatever's gone wrong, we can fix it! Talk to me! I can help you!"

And without so much as a goodbye, it's gone. Sara appears behind the Doctor and asks, "What ARE they?" The Doctor turns, with his head down, disappointment on his face.

"I think I just might know," the Doctor replies, with a suspicious look, "We'd better get back to camp. Where has everybody else gone?"

"They must have run off," replies Sara, "back to camp."

"Yeah, just," The Doctor mutters, and turns toward the camp.

Chapter Six

The Doctor finds Emil, crying, in his tent. Emil is busily packing bags and crates. The Doctor, his hands in his pockets, asks, "What is this? So, one tiny... okay one GIANT, sand monster and suddenly you're going to run home to mum? What will everyone else think? You're their leader, the one they look up to, to keep them from being frightened. If you show them fear, what happens?"

Emil stops packing for a moment, and looks up at the Doctor. Emil explains, "This expedition could have put me on the map. I'd be the envy of the whole scientific community. The things we’ve found here are, quite simply, remarkable. Oh, you wouldn't understand."

The Doctor, genuine sympathy in his voice, asks Emil, "What have you been digging up? I mean, there's something down there, but I don't think it's bones. It's not bones, is it? Let me help you. I AM a doctor, after all."

The Doctor flashes a supportive smile at Emil, and Emil falls to pieces.

"I don't know what it is, but I know it's important. It's not like anything I've ever seen before, and I've seen it all. It's like metal, but unlike any metal ever catalogued. It's fantastically exciting! It has gears, and moving parts, and... you don't believe me, do you? The scientific community laughed at my findings. Said they were preposterous. But I know what I've seen."

The Doctor looks Emil right in the eye.

"I believe you. I've seen things too. Things even YOU wouldn't believe. I’ve seen the end of the universe, the Medusa Cascade, the Loch Ness monster, the Oodsphere, and even things I couldn't believe. BUT, I do know what's down there."

The Doctor explains, "Eons ago, maybe more, a ship from the Silistine armada went missing. They just vanished. Now, the Silistine were a race of silicate beings, the only ones in the known universe, I think, it's so hard to keep track these days. Well, there were the Ogri, but that’s another story entirely. So then, there was a war, and the Silistine were losing. The Silistine were a peaceful race, so a ship broke off from the fleet to find a home. To find a NEW home, away from all the fighting. I think they may have come here. But something went wrong, and they never contacted their fleet again. They were lost to time. Until now! Come with me!"

The Doctor grabs Emil's hand and runs off, toward the dig site.

Chapter Seven

Sara is in her tent, fuming, muttering to herself.

"That Doctor, he'll ruin everything! If only I'd recognized him earlier. How many regenerations now? What to do, what to do?"

She rifles through some crates and then smiles as she pulls out a slim, pen-like device.

"Ah, this'll do."

She stands up, almost triumphant.

"He's getting far too close to my work. That Doctor, his meddling is notorious. It’s time I did the rest of the universe a favor.”

Just then there's a voice coming from outside her tent. It's one of the locals, a little timidly, "Lady Sara, the Doctor and Emil have gone to the site."

Sara grins a malevolent grin as she puts the device back in her robe, "Very well Doctor, it's time I re-introduce myself. You can call me Sirana."

Chapter Eight

The Doctor and Emil are walking around the outside edge of the site, Emil much more cautiously than the Doctor.

"What are we doing, Doctor? Are we just waiting for those...things to come back?"

The Doctor smiles, "Yes, that's exactly what we're doing. I don't think we have any reason to be afraid, of course I could be wrong. It's exciting isn't it? Be on your toes, just in case."

The Doctor pulls out his Sonic Screwdriver and aims it at the ground around them. It starts buzzing and glowing, just as the sand starts swirling and rising.

"Ah, there you are then! Emil, let me introduce you to the last of the Silistine race!"

The sand in front of them rises up and forms a crude humanoid shape. Then another, and another. All around them the desert floor is rising up, and soon they are surrounded by Silistine. They are humanoid in appearance, but lacking any detailed features. Emil starts shaking, and gets ready to run.

The Doctor shouts, "No! Don't run, stand your ground. They don't want to hurt us, they’re as scared as you are."

And then, under his breath, "But, what are they afraid of?"

The Silistine are getting ever larger, closing in on Emil and the Doctor. At first there is just the one, then there are three, then five.

"Silistine, I'm the Doctor! I’m here to help!"

The largest of the Silistine backs off a bit. A strange voice, deep and calm, rises up out of the desert.

"Doc-tor? Doc-tor. Help?"

The Doctor relaxes, and calmly explains, "I know about you, what happened all those eons ago. I want to help, but I need to know why you're attacking these people. You are a peaceful race, I know you don't want to hurt anyone."

The disembodied voice rises up again, "Not attack-ing, defend-ing. Liv-ing in peace all these eons. Then she came. The bad per-son. The Time-Lady. She steals our ship-parts, our technology."

The Doctor is bewildered, "But, that's impossible! I'm the last of the Time-Lords, the only survivor of a war, much like you. There simply cannot be another."

The voice, this time coming directly from the largest Silistine, "She came in that. Her ship," it says, pointing at the minaret, "Crashed here. Steals from us. To fix. Gutt-ed our ship. Gutt-ed our home." The Silistine let out a collective sigh.

The Doctor steps towards the large Silistine, looks up to where it's eyes would be, and says,"I will help you, but you've got to leave these other people alone. They aren't involved with this Time-Lady. They didn’t know. Let me get to the bottom of this.”

The Doctor turns to Emil, “Come on Emil! I've got questions, and the answers are in that ship." The Doctor bows to the Silistine, “I WILL fix this, you have my word as a Time-Lord.”

Then the Doctor and Emil run off toward the minaret.

Chapter Nine

Just as the Doctor and Emil are about to reach the minaret, Sirana steps out from behind it brandishing a slim, pen-like device.

"Stop right there, Doctor!"

They stop dead in their tracks. Emil has his hands above his head, and is whimpering. The Doctor swats at Emil's hands, "Oh, stop that. Have some dignity, man."

Sirana steps forward, aiming the device directly at the Doctor, her blue eyes piercing straight into his soul.

"This is a cellular displacement device, one shot and you become nothing but a memory.”

So, Doctor, you're looking quite well. What is this, your tenth regeneration?"

The Doctor is incredulous, "Who are you, how do you know my name, and why are you stealing from the Silistine?"

Sirana smiles maliciously, "Hmm, you don't remember me, do you, Doctor? Does the name Sirana ring any bells? We were at Academy together on Gallifrey, all those regenerations ago. Oh, those were the days. Of course, that was before you stole that TARDIS and became a fugitive from your own people. I was there that day, glad to be rid of you. You still don’t remember, do you?"

Emil shouts, "Sara, what are you talking about? What is going on here?"

Sirana turns towards Emil, still pointing her device at the Doctor.

"Oh Emil, poor, trusting Emil. My name isn't Sara you fool. That was all just a clever disguise. See, I needed you and your team to help me dig up this site. The Silistine ship is buried here and I needed parts to fix my TARDIS. I lied to you, told you what you needed to hear so you would come here. Oh you earthmen are SO easy. Flash a pretty smile, give a wink, and you are mine. You were never going to get the chance to show the world your findings, I would have made sure of that."

As Sirana is distracted with Emil, the Doctor is slowly reaching into his pocket for his Sonic.

Sirana continues, "I fled the Time-War, and flew across the galaxy, but my TARDIS malfunctioned, landing me here. You were just a pawn, helping me get off of this horrible backwoods planet. Then, the Doctor appeared. I didn’t recognize you at first, but, dear Doctor, when I realized who you were, it was like fate intervened. Now Emil, I don’t need you. I think I’ll just take the Doctor’s TARDIS. Oh, and Doctor, hands where I can see them please."

But it's too late, the Doctor whips out his Sonic Screwdriver and zaps the device right out of Sirana's hand. She falls to her knees in the sand with a shriek.

"Sirana, you've put a lot of innocent people in danger. The Silistine were just protecting themselves from you, and a lot of people died because of it. This isn't our way. You took an oath at Academy, to protect the ancient Law of Gallifrey, and to temper your actions with justice and honor. You're nothing but a selfish coward."

The Doctor kneels down, and puts his hand on Sirana's shoulder. He looks her right in the eye, intensely.

"We are the last of our kind, Sirana. There was another, the Master, but he’s gone too. But now there’s us! We can start over now, just the two of us. We aren’t alone any more. Isn’t that great?”

The Doctor kneels in front of Sirana, “But first, the gift of Time has corrupted you, and I've no choice but to take you to the Shadow Proclamation to pay for your crimes."

Sirana jumps up and shouts, "Never!" as she runs off into the desert. The Doctor gets to his feet to chase after her, but it's too late. The desert swirls up around her, a tornado of sand and wind.

The Doctor shouts, "Nooooo!"

There is a scream, and the sands subside, and all that's left is a glass sculpture where Sirana once stood, and the cellular displacement device on the ground in front of it.

The Doctor runs up to the statue, and falls to his knees.

"Sirana, you could have paid for your crimes, and then we could have travelled together, the last of the Time-Lords. Why did you have to run? Why take the coward's way out, again?"

The Doctor hangs his head, one hand placed over his mouth.

Chapter Ten

The Doctor walks back to the site, head down, and calls out, “Silistine! Silistine! Show yourselves!”

He stands there for a moment, hands balled into tight, angry fists, until the sands begin to rise once more.

“Silistine! Why did you do that? I told you I’d fix everything! She didn’t need to die!”

The voice comes from the sand again, “Doc-tor? We did what we must. Not dead though. Stasis.”

The Doctor looks perplexed, “What do you mean, not dead? I mean, she must be. She sure looks dead. But, wait… then, the others, they’re not dead either? Oh that’s brilliant! I should have known. You Silistine are quite clever aren’t you? Oh yes you are!”

The Silistine, in unison, “Clev-er?”

The Doctor smiles, “Oh yes! Clever, clever you! I can still fix this! You’re free now, to do…well, whatever it is you do. I will make sure you have peace from here on. No more digging, no more Time-Ladies, just peace and quiet. No more turning people to glass though. Do we have a deal?”

The Silistine, in unison again, “Thank you Doc-tor.”

The Doctor replies, “Oh, you’re very welcome. I know what it’s like, being the last of your kind, just trying to find a home, trying to survive as best you can.”

The Doctor has a little bit of sadness in his face, but quickly shrugs it off. The Silistine melt into the background, as the Doctor turns to Emil.

“Right then, let’s fix this!”

The Doctor and Emil rush back toward camp.

Emil shouts to the Doctor, “What’s going on Doctor? What do they mean, stasis?”

The Doctor replies, “I’ll explain on the way back! Come on!”

He grabs Sirana’s device from the desert floor, and off they run!

Chapter Eleven

The Doctor and Emil reach the supply tent in minutes.

“Now get that thing open Emil, and stand back,” shouts the Doctor!

He aims his Sonic Screwdriver, as well as Sirana’s device, at the statues, and switches them both on. There is an unbearably high pitched whine, and an intense blast of white light.

The Doctor covers his eyes, turns his head, and shouts, “Cover your eyes Emil! Don’t look at it!”

The sound grows louder, and the light more intense, and the statues transform back to their former selves.

There is a collective rush of breath and laughter, as well as bewilderment, as the former statues realize everything is going to be okay. Emil is shocked at what he sees.

He grabs the Doctor’s sleeve, “Doctor, that’s… that’s incredible!”

The Doctor smiles, flips his sonic into the air, and replies with a sense of accomplishment, “Yes, it is, isn’t it? Brilliant!”

Emil is still a bit puzzled and asks, “But how? I’ve never seen anything like it!”

The Doctor shrugs as he puts the devices into his inside coat pocket, “It’s quite simple really. The sonic waves from my screwdriver changed the properties of the cellular displacement device by way of dampening, and those combined waves converted the glass molecules back to their original state. Any first year Time-Lord knows that!”

Emil still looks confused, but tries not to show it.

Tara walks up to the Doctor, reaches out her hand and says, “I don’t quite understand what you did, but I thank you.”

The Doctor shakes her hand, as others walk up to thank him.

“No one dies today,” says the Doctor.

“Now, I’m sure you all have catching up to do, and I’ve really got to be off. From now on though, careful where you dig, eh?”

The Doctor starts back towards his TARDIS, but Emil stops him.

“What about Sara… I mean Sirana? Will she be okay? What will you do with her?”

The Doctor simply replies, “Save her.”

Chapter Twelve

The Doctor and Emil stand outside of the TARDIS, saying their goodbyes. Emil gazes in complete wonder at the Doctor’s ship. He can just see Sirana’s statue in the TARDIS console room, behind the Doctor.

The Doctor extends his hand toward Emil and says, "I don't think you'll have any more trouble from the Silistine. I wouldn't dig here anymore though, just in case. This is their home, and you unwittingly disturbed it, but you're done here, right?"

Emil shakes the Doctor's hand, and replies, "No, I think I'll be moving on now. Maybe back to University. Field work is much too exciting for an old man like me. I think a break is in order, maybe I'll stick to boring old papers from here on out. What about you, Doctor?"

The Doctor lets go of Emil's hand, and steps into the TARDIS doorway, faking a smile.

"Me, oh, I'll be fine. There's a big universe out there. I've had enough of deserts for one regeneration. I think some fishing is in order. Yes! Maybe the Blue Moon of Pooch! It's quite nice this time of year, well... anytime of year really. You should see it, but... first, Sirana needs to be dealt with. I’ll take her to The Shadow Proclamation where she can reform, hopefully. She’s not all bad, I don’t think, just selfish and confused."

Emil smiles, and gives the Doctor a bear hug.

"You are a strange and wondrous man, Doctor. If you ever come back this way again, fish and chips are on me"

Emil turns to walk away, as he hears a “Vworp Vworp Vworp” behind him, accompanied by a mighty wind. He turns around just in time to see the Doctor peering out of the TARDIS, waving and smiling that big Doctor smile of his.

“I’d like that, Emil. So long friend.”

And then, the blue box, as well as the strange man from Gallifrey, are gone. Emil smiles, shakes his head, and walks off toward town.

The End

Bradleeeee's Birthday Blowout!

2009-05-24T16:37:00.000-07:00

Freaks!

Freaks part deux!

Awesomeness!

Simpler Times lager!

Bradlee confused by the Snuggie.

Yes, that IS a Snuggie!

The Snuggie again!

And a ShamWow!

A collection of awesome-ness!

Hannah Montana wrapping paper!

Simpler Tines lager.

A Calcu-Corn!

A T'ird!

Bro Rape waiting to happen.

Well, that's it for now!

Update 5/16/2009

2009-05-16T18:46:00.000-07:00

I reworked pages 2 and 3 of Bitter Pill: Rush today. I felt that the walls needed more tagging on them to be believable. I hope it works out okay. It may be too busy and distracting now, I don't know.

- C

Update 5/15/2009

2009-05-15T18:39:00.000-07:00

Well, it's been a while since I've posted anything. It's not that I've been slacking though, far from it! I've almost finished Bitter Pill - Rush, AND I'm on my third draft of Doctor Who - The Sands of Shara! It has been two weeks since my shop, Comic Universe, closed, and I've been using the time off wisely. Besides my creative endeavors, I began planting a vegetable garden in my backyard! It's a lot of work, but it's also very fun! But enough about that, let's get on to some art, shall we? As always, click the image to see full size.

Bitter Pill - Rush page 5

Page 5!!!

2009-04-01T14:10:00.001-07:00

So here we have the penultimate page from Bitter Pill: Rush, inked and lettered. I will be coloring it in the next few days, but I really wanted to get it up.

This page is flipped on it's side for a reason. Rik's perspective has changed, and we wanted the book to reflect it. I know that flipping a book, to some, is an annoying gimmick. I hope that this doesn't come off that way.

Enjoy!

Just a quick one today

2009-03-26T13:21:00.000-07:00

So, I've finished coloring pages 3 and 4 of Rush. I will have pages 5 and 6 up in the next few days or so. Enjoy!

Bitter Pill page 2!

2009-03-20T14:36:00.001-07:00

And here we are with page 2! I may change the color of the captions boxes, but for now it's all done!

A little background on my coloring style for these pages. I started the book out with mostly warm colors because it fit with the theme of fear, and the intensity I wanted for the first page and a half. Reds and oranges, etc.

As he gets closer to (Salvation? Help? A way out?) the page takes on a calmer, cooler color palette. He may seem cornered, but there's something better waiting on the next page. I did keep to using warmer colors for the dogs in panel 5 though.

I'm not sure how well it works right now, but hopefully after page 3 is up, it will all make sense.

Please comment, critique, etc. I'm all growed up now and can take it.

- C

Bitter Pill - New and Improved and ready to publish?

2009-03-17T13:33:00.001-07:00

Yeah! So, I found out this weekend that the first Bitter Pill story, Rush, will be published just in time for San Diego Comic-Con in July!!! It will be in an as-yet unnamed 2 story anthology. Kind of like a split 7". Then, it's off to the Archaia Studios Press booth to show Mark and see if he's still interested. (fingers crossed) If not, at least we'll have a hard copy for pitching to other publishers.

I decided, after much deliberation, that I really didn't like the colors I originally did. So, after really looking at a crap-ton of comics for inspiration, I re-colored it. I think it works really well now. I just need to get a "go-ahead" from Mike, and it's off to re-color the other pages.

Please comment and let me know if you like it. I am still new at this whole coloring thing, so any comments or critiques would be extremely helpful.

- C

The Brea Dam...

2009-03-16T13:20:00.000-07:00

This has been one crap year so far. Besides my Mom's stroke, and my kitty Edward's injury, I found out a few weeks ago that my comic shop is closing at the end of April. This sucks for many reasons, not the least of which that now I have to get a "real" job, with bosses and such. With all the stress of my recent life I just needed a day off.

So, last Tuesday, The Dreamlord and I went to the Brea Dam to do some hiking and whatnot. We walked for hours, all the while bullshitting and taking pics. I haven't done this sort of thing in ages, and had forgotten how much I like going "out". I'd forgotten, also, that there IS nature in Orange County if you just know where to look. I did lose my hat at the end, but it seemed a reasonable sacrifice for such an enjoyable day. Here is some random photographic evidence. Enjoy!

Oh, and that is the stupidest tagging I've ever seen.

- C

Just a quick one today.

2009-02-12T15:35:00.000-08:00

I was monkeying around with photoshop this morning, and ended up with a logo design for Bitter Pill. I'm not sure if it will be used, but it was fun to make. I did this in black and purple because it fits the book, but I can do it in any color since I saved the Illustrator file.

- Carl

Old stuff and new.

2009-02-10T13:30:00.000-08:00

So, I just figured I'd do a dump of old logos and random crap from the past, as well as some new stuff. I was looking around on my computer and had forgotten about a lot of this stuff. As always, click the images for full size versions. Enjoy!

First off is my old studio logo, on the face of the moon! It took many years and many lasers to accomplish this, and I am very proud.

Next up is a logo for a temporarily abandoned comic, as well as the splash page. I will eventually get back to work on this, after I'm done with all of my other half-started projects. Artists, yeah?

This was basically a cyberpunk, mystery, fantasy series I was working on with my friend Casey Faulkner. We had all the character sketches and bios, full plot, script, and 3 pages finished when his car was broken into and almost everything was stolen. :( This project was a really fun one to work on for me, and with the way our world worked anything was possible. The story potential was out of this world. I still have the first 3 pages, and some of the character sketches though, so Waking World may still see the light of day at some point. Fingers crossed.

Next up is a weird photo shop collage I did in 2002, just for shits and giggles. I think I was venting over a break-up or something. I was, very obviously and un-apologetically, inspired by the works of Dave McKean. It was a lot of fun to make, but I probably won't be doing anything else like this because of how long it took. I have the attention span of a flea.

And, last but not least, are a couple logo designs for C Squared Productions. This is the "company" started by Carl Storm and I for our eventual comic projects together. I was looking for something simple and elegant and I think I got what I was looking for.

Well, that's it for now.

- Carl

Slings and roundabouts.

2009-01-20T16:06:00.000-08:00

So, this week has been one crazy roller coaster ride. It started off with drinking and The IT Crowd with friends, breakfast with Carl Storm the next day, and then hiking at the Brea Dam. I was having a great week.

Then, yesterday, my mom apparently had a stroke or something.

She went into the hospital yesterday in the early morning. She was having Migraine symptoms the night before, and I thought that was just what it was. I didn't find out until 2:00 pm or so, when my younger brother called. She had lost sensitivity on her right side, and had jumbled speech. It is hard to have a conversation with her right now, just because of the frustration you see on her face when she can't find the right words. You can tell she knows exactly what to say, but the words get lost on the way out. It's like when you leave something somewhere deliberately and someone moves it when you aren't looking. She had an MRI today, but we still don't know exactly what happened. She seems to be getting better though. I'm worried. I guess we'll find out more tomorrow when her primary doctor comes in.

I lost my dad in 1999. We were never that close, up until he helped me move to Washington state. We talked the whole drive up there, and I learned some really cool and interesting things I never knew about him. He had been in poor health for years, with kidney and liver problems, so it wasn't a surprise when he passed away. I wasn't even sad, because he had lived a great long life, and it was his time. He was born in 1921.

I'm not ready to lose my mom though.

-Carl

2009 and beyond...

2009-01-12T14:20:00.000-08:00

I have decided that, even though I've never done this before, I have a resolution for 2009. I have resolved to get off my ass, stop being a hermit, and DO THINGS.

1. I don't draw nearly enough. I have many convenient excuses as to why I don't draw, but I've decided to see right through them for the first time in years. I have resolved to draw at least 5 days a week, for at least 3 hours a day. That may not seem like much to most of my artistic friends, but it is a lot for me. Running my comic shop takes up much of my time, but I can't use that excuse anymore. I NEED this. I have so many unfinished projects and ideas lying around, generally being neglected and ignored, and it has to stop if I want to pursue my dream. I've wanted to draw comic books since I was a little kid. Now is the time to decide how badly I want to do it. If it means sacrificing sleep, watching less TV, or having weekly drink and draw nights with friends, then that's what I'll do. I don't EVER go out, so what's my excuse. If I am going to spend so much time at home I'm going to use that time wisely. I want everyone who knows me to keep on my ass about this. If I start to slack, please hit me. Seriously.

2. I need to be around people more often. I have been a hermit long enough. I realized the other day that even though most of my friends and family live within 10 minutes of my house, I never see any of them. That's just sad. I hung out with my mom last week, and realized it's the first time in a long time I've done that. I miss seeing people. I miss my family. It's time to re-embrace the outside world again. It's hard because I get really uneasy after being around people for too long. That's why I don't do parties or clubs anymore. I need to get over that, I suppose.

3. I need to put my private life above my work life. I work anywhere between 30 and 90 hours a week, between running the shop and working on my comics. I need to realize that the shop will run fine without me. That's why I have employees. I need to start trusting them more.

So, 2009 will be a much different year for me. And I'm looking forward to it.

- Carl

Atheists Send a Message, on 800 British Buses!

2009-01-10T14:22:00.000-08:00

The ads were placed by the Atheists in response to ads placed by a Christian website on buses around London. Inspired by the London campaign, there is now a similar campaign in Washington, D.C. Way to go London!

Read more here.

- Carl

Paul McGann as The Doctor.

2009-01-06T13:42:00.000-08:00

So, here we have a really crappy scan of the pencils for my Paul McGann piece. It's a shame that his movie was so shitty, because he was a really good Doctor. I'm glad they finally acknowledged him in the new series in "The Next Doctor". As usual, click the image for a bigger version. I will post the inks and colors soon.

- Carl

Interagents and Bitter Pill in color!

2008-12-02T13:29:00.000-08:00

First off today is a pin-up for Dwight L. MacPherson's great comic Interagents.

Next up is page one of Bitter Pill: Rush, in color!

That's it for today, I'm back to work!

- C

Dwight L. MacPherson's Interagents!

2008-11-27T12:50:00.000-08:00

Here is a pin-up I'm working on for Interagents. The series is created/written by Dwight L. MacPherson, and illustrated by Valerio Giangiordano. You can check out the first two issues at www.wowio.com. Highly recommended.

This has been a fun piece for me, as I don't do superheroes very often, and the characters are very interesting and unique. I will have a colored version up very soon.

- Carl

Rush pages 3 and 4!

2008-11-07T16:06:00.000-08:00

So, here we are with two more pages of Rush. Just playing around with the lettering a bit.

- Carl

Bitter Pill - Rush page 1 and 2

2008-10-25T15:05:00.000-07:00

Well, here are the first two pages of Bitter Pill Chapter 1 - Rush. They are obviously still needing some color, but at least they're lettered, right? Click the pics to see them full size.

- Carl

Bitter Pill Update.

2008-10-13T13:29:00.000-07:00

Well, we are on our way with Bitter Pill.

Some background for those of you unfamiliar with the book.

I worked on a short redneck horror comic with writer Mike Colbert a few years back. He in turn was working on Crazy Mary at the time with artist J.K. Woodward (IDW's Fallen Angel). Mike and J.K. co-created a pitch for a comic called Bitter Pill. Then J.K. started working on Fallen Angel with Peter David (as well as X-Men Origins: Beast), and I suppose was a little too busy for Bitter Pill.

So, Mike pitched me the idea over a year ago, and I brought it back up right before Comic-Con in July. Mike, J.K. and I hung out at Comic-Con and discussed the book, and it just seemed that this book had to happen. The excitement was back!

We decided to have multiple artists to give it an anthology feel, with J.K.'s fantastic paintings gracing the covers. And we were off!

I have finished two of the stories up to this point, with one left to go. We have brought in a fantastic new talent in Willie Tarkington to work on a couple more. We should be pitch ready by next year's Comic-Con.

So, here's a sneak peek at Bitter Pill! This is from the story "The Void" All the stories are completely seperate, but link together to tell a lmuch larger story. Click the pics to view them larger.

Enjoy.

- Carl

David Tennant as Dr. Who!

2007-09-28T22:47:00.000-07:00

I haven't posted anything in a long while, but that's because I've been super busy! I will have a lot more to show soon, I hope.

Well, this piece was inspired by the brilliant new Dr. Who series. I never thought I would count myself as one of the legion of Dr. Who fans around the world. I always thought it was a campy, low budget, crappy BBC show. Well, that may have been the case at one point in time, but times have changed! I am hooked on this show AND it's spin-offs. Holy crap it's good!

So, here's the piece. It is pen, ink, and Deleter Zipatone. This is my first time using tones, because they are really fucking expensive. I got one for really cheap in a clearance bin, so I thought I'd try it. I do like how it turned out, and would use them again if I find them on the cheap. Well, enjoy, even though it is a crappy scan. I just finished it and really wanted to get it online. I will try to get a better scan later.

I may do another one later, or maybe a Torchwood/Captain Jack Harkness one if I have the time.

- C

Commissions are fun!

2007-07-07T18:59:00.000-07:00

This is a piece I was commissioned to draw by my brother Neal. Duke Walker is one of his teachers, and all of his students call him their superhero. Neal wanted him depicted in a very iconic superhero pose, and there are few more iconic poses than this.

I used an Alex Ross piece as the basis, because I have no imagination of my own I guess.

Neal had already given Duke the piece (which he of course loved), but I really wanted to color it and make it look like an old comic cover.

It doesn't look as good as my Doom Patrol/Metal Men piece, but I'm happy with how it turned out. Photshop is fun!

- Carl

The Black Coat!

2007-06-16T21:08:00.000-07:00

Well, since there is a new Black Coat mini-series out, Ben said I should do a new pin-up. I don't know for sure if it will make it in or not, but here it is.

This is one of the coolest new comic characters and concepts in years, and I am stoked to be able to contribute something! The new mini is called The Black Coat: Or Give Me Death, and it's awesome! It's even better than the last mini, which itself is awesome. Be sure to check it out. If your shop doesn't carry it, make them.

Be sure to check out their publisher as well. Ape Entertainment is putting out some great books right now. Check out Athena Voltaire as well. She is like a female Indiana Jones, and she's way cooler than Tomb Raider. The book has a really good pulp feel to it, so if you like The Phantom or The Shadow it's right up your alley.

Here's the piece I did for The Black Coat, issue #2. This was my first time inking with brushes, and it turned out pretty well. I thought this was one of the coolest new characters I'd seen in a long time, so I drew this up. I had gotten in touch with Ben, the creator of The Black Coat and sent him the pic. I guess he really liked it because he put it in the second issue. Good stuff.

- Carl

News!

2007-05-31T23:01:00.000-07:00

Well, it's been a while since I've posted anything, and there's a reason for that. I have been super busy. Nothing I can post unfortunately, but busy none the less. Between my job running the comic shop and doing some secret projects, I don't have time for my own stuff right now. I am having a blast though.

Here's a sneak peek at one of my projects.

Enough of that though.

Running a comic shop is a lot more work than you'd think. I not only have to do the ordering and help customers, but I have been getting us on TV, getting in touch with artists for signings, doing the weekly newsletter, planning sales and events, remodeling the shop, designing and implementing advertising, updating our website, planning Free Comic Book Day, and sooooo much more. But damn if this isn't the most fun I've ever had at work! And now it's time to start planning for Comic Con.

I will be done very soon with my current project and will begin posting my own work again.

Stay tuned.

- Carl

The Legendary Pickle Cowboy and other junk.

2007-04-26T18:48:00.000-07:00

Here are two versions of a commissioned piece I did for my brother. It was for a charity type thing, and he has to get it tattooed.

And here is a piece for the San Diego Comic Con souveneer book.

That's it for now.

- Carl

Damien!

2007-03-21T01:41:00.000-07:00

I felt like doing a Movie Monster piece, and Damien from The Omen was the scariest one I could think of. Yeah, I'm scared of children. Sue me. This is what being sick does to me.

- Carl

Iron Fisty goodness

2007-03-16T20:55:00.000-07:00

Well, I finally bought new art supplies. Yay! Here is the Iron Fist piece, inked finally. It turned out ok, seeing as I was using dip pens for the second time ever. More soon.

- Carl

Sketch Dump Time!

2007-02-24T18:14:00.000-08:00

Here we go! A couple new pieces, and a whole lotta old! Some of these are pretty big, but I am far too lazy to resize them at this juncture.

This is page one of a Phantom short I am working on. The Phantom was the character that got me reading comics, and it's been great finally working on this.

First off with the old stuff, here's a pin-up I did for Digital Webbing Presents that didn't end up getting used. I really did my best to do this character some justice, but there were so many good entries that there was no way mine would make it in.

These next two were for the Sand Diego Comic Con souvenir book. Only the Gumby made it in, unfortunately.

This next one is a poster mock-up for a book I will be doing eventually. The colors may change a bit, but this is pretty much what the character will look like. It is a supernatural, film noir, political, superhero thriller taking place in the 1920's.

- Carl

Shadows Of Sam.

2006-11-11T23:22:00.000-08:00

Well, I am still working on Shadows of Sam slowly but surely. This book truly means a lot to me, so i am really taking a long time with it. Carl Storm is probably getting really frustrated by the wait, but it's HIS baby so I want to really rock it. I figure I should have issue #1 done by January, and hopefully part of #2. Until then, here's an Iron Fist sketch!

- C

Here we go!

2006-08-21T16:14:00.000-07:00

Since I haven't had the time to finish re-doing my website, I thought an art blog would be in order. This is where you will find updates and information about the books I'm currently working on, as well as any other art I can cram in here. Lets start off with an oldie but goodie.

Here are the original inks to the Doom Patrol/Metal Men piece. Again with the brushes. I really wanted it to have that Silver Age look to it, and I think it turned out great.

This, while being a tribute to the silver age, was also an excuse to draw a big fight scene. Take it from me, these things are hard and time consuming. I probably went through 3 or 4 drafts before settling on one I liked. I have a lot more respect for George Perez now because he makes it seem so easy.

I will be posting a lot more in the next few weeks. Right now I am working on not one, but two projects.

The first is a four pager for Mike Colbert's (Crazy Mary) new title Bitter Pill. This series is going to be awesome, and even though I am extremely busy I couldn't pass up the chance to work with Mike again after our last story. Mike is an amazing writer and conceptualist. I will post more info on this as it comes in.

Number two is called Shadows Of Sam. It's co-created by me and my good friend Carl Storm. This is some very high concept stuff, and it will be taking us a while to get it finished, but will be worth the wait. This book will be like nothing else out there. Here's a preview.

Well, there you go. Keep checking back for more sneak peeks and info. This upcoming year is ging to be amazing!

- C