Month: September 2010

With this week’s comic we mark the end of what I consider to be the second “issue” of Zombie Ranch. Also, even though this site went live Sept. 25th, 2009, this coming Saturday will mark the first anniversary since we started posting the story, and then in about a month from now we should reach story comic #50. That’s a lot of different milestones to choose between, but right now I think we’ll go with the anniversary and take a small pause for breath next week before continuing with the tale. Long Beach Comic Con is fast approaching and our panel presentation has gotten the final greenlight, plus Dawn needs to get some new artwork together in time to hopefully make a nice big Zombie Ranch banner for our table.

So next Wednesday we might actually have a couple of different drawings for you folks to look at and vote on in terms of a banner and/or potential cover for a print of Zombie Ranch #2. Honestly, there’s no way #2 would be together in time for Long Beach, but then again I still want to see how we do with #1 there since it’ll actually be the first time we’ll have a stack of full comics available for people to buy at a convention, instead of just a mini-comic or postcard flyers.

Oh, and speaking of Zombie Ranch #1, a new review has been posted over at Geek Girls Network, courtesy of Amy, the Geek With Curves. You can check out the review here, and also check out Amy’s own blog while you’re at it. She’s good peoples, and I’m not just saying that because she implies we have talent. 🙂

I believe I already mentioned that our panel will be Dawn and myself discussing being newbie independent creators taking our idea from concept to webcomic/comic book on a limited budget, with an eye towards helping others do the same. I still have to put this whole presentation together, so I’m wondering what you all might be hoping to find out if you were to attend such a panel, and what questions you might ask? You can speak your piece in the comments or email me directly. This coming week is the calm before the storm, so I’m hoping to make the most of it.

No, I’m not attempting to one-up discussing Shakespeare last week by randomly quoting Classical Latin. First off, the above phrase isn’t even proper Latin, a discrepancy which comes clear when I tell you it’s from words carved into a wooden plank by a half-literate former Texas Ranger: a Ranger who freely admits he doesn’t know what it means, but that hey, it sure looks classy.

The Ranger in question is one Augustus McCrae, half of the fictional pairing that makes up the main protagonists of a TV miniseries by the name of Lonesome Dove. Together with his partner Woodrow F. Call, Gus owns and operates the Hat Creek Cattle Company just outside the town of Lonesome Dove, Texas. Calling Lonesome Dove a town is being extremely generous, since it seems to consist of little more than a saloon. Because of this, and also a heavy implication that settling down doesn’t sit well with Woodrow, a decision is made to make a cattle drive to Montana where they and their crew can set up a new homestead in a still relatively virgin wilderness. That drive and its immediate aftermath are the subject matter of the show.

I have vague memories of watching Lonesome Dove when it first aired, way back in 1989, but that wasn’t much to go on. What I did remember was that it still comes highly recommended for fans of the western genre, so I managed to get my paws on it recently and have a watch. Let me tell you, this was no small commitment. We’re talking over six hours’ worth of show, with a huge cast of characters, sprawling from Texas to Mexico to Arkansas to Montana and just about everywhere between. The series started out as a screenplay in the early 70s for a movie that was slated to star John Wayne, Jimmy Stewart, and Henry Fonda, but the story is that Wayne turned it down on the advice of John Ford, Stewart backed off when he heard Wayne was out, and I guess Fonda alone wasn’t enough oomph to keep things going. The film was abandoned, and writer Larry McMurtrey ended up turning it into a novel instead, which then over 15 years later made its way back to the (smaller) screen.

So, a smaller screen, perhaps, but the budget must have been spectacular for its time, based on the quality and scope of the locations, and the cast. Watching Lonesome Dove I was shocked at the quality and depth of the acting roster, which is probably the main part of how it managed to keep my interest for its entire length. In particular, the two leads featured Gus McCrae being played by Robert Duvall, and Woodrow F. Call being played by Tommy Lee Jones, and the chemistry between them is incredible.

Let’s put it this way: you know which folks are easy for me to write in Zombie Ranch? People like Uncle Chuck and Rosa, the ones who talk your ear off and show their hearts on their sleeves (keeping in mind that heart might have an extra ace tucked up under). Suzie and especially Frank are infinitely harder because they keep their own counsel and don’t necessarily say what’s on their minds, meaning the reader has to interpret that based on other clues.

In Lonesome Dove, Gus does lean towards the former type, but Woodrow is firmly in the stoic mold of the latter, and TLJ is masterful at somehow taking that stone-faced cipher and making him interesting. Then again, I suppose they do cheat by having Gus chatter to Woodrow and to others about what Woodrow happens to be thinking, often claiming to know his partner better than his partner knows himself. Point is, a lot of times volumes are being spoken without actually being said (or when something else is being said), which to me is an essence of good writing and good acting, especially in a western. Flamboyant is easy. Stoic is hard.

Duvall and Jones represent the core of the show, and hold the whole thing together, but there’s a lot of other talent surrounding them. Just as a short list, we have Danny Glover, Diane Lane, Robert Urich, Angelica Huston, Steve Buscemi, Rick Schroder, and even D.B. Sweeney (looking exactly the same 20 years ago as he does today, which makes me wonder if perhaps he was miscast as human in True Blood).

About the show itself, there’s really too much to go into than will fit even in one of my blogs, but I wasn’t disappointed. There are some dated special effects; Dawn in particular started hooting with laughter during a dramatic stampede scene in a thunderstorm when the cattle suddenly became “electrified” by lighting, and the irony there is that scene comes straight from the book, which comes straight from a true account of a trailhand in the 1800s who watched in awe as ball lightning rolled between the horns of the cattle he was herding. Whether or not that cowhand was making it all up to begin with, the fact remains that the effects budget wasn’t up to representing it well.

Where Lonesome Dove shines is in the details of a huge cross-section of American frontier life circa 1876, and the interpersonal relationships of the rough and courageous people trying to make their way in that world. The core storyline is based out of a historical cattle drive and two historical men of the time, Charles Goodnight and Oliver Loving, which might go a long way towards explaining this, but it could easily have rung false in the telling. Lonesome Dove teeters towards melodrama at times, but always returns to people and happenings that I could believe in and care about. In the end, no matter how grounded or fantastical your setting, that’s what makes a good story.

Oh, the Latin motto? It’s intentionally corrupted, but when corrected translates roughly to “a grape ripens when it sees (or is around) another grape”. There’s been a lot of talk on whether that’s an actual theme of Lonesome Dove (and if so, what it means), but as far as I know McMurtry has not given a definitive answer. Even if he didn’t understand it, Gus loved an unspoken ideal it seemed to represent, as this exchange showed:

Woodrow Call: …and if that ain’t bad enough you got all them Greek words on there, too.
Gus McCrae: I told you, Woodrow, a long time ago it ain’t Greek, it’s Latin.
Woodrow Call: Well what does it say in Latin?
[Gus blusters some gibberish]
Woodrow Call: For all you know it invites people to rob us.
Gus McCrae: Well the first man comes along that can read Latin is welcome to rob us, far as I’m concerned. I’d like a chance t’ shoot at a educated man once in my life.

It’s a funny moment, but it leaves so much wonderfully unexplained–and sometimes, those moments in fiction are the ones that seem most true to life.

So in this week’s comic, any of those of you out there who were still waiting finally got themselves a name to call our cheerful trespasser by. Is it her real name? Suzie doesn’t seem to think so, but what’s in a name? I’m reasonably sure The Lord Humongous was not given that name at his birth, and yet it’s a quite fitting moniker for The Ayatollah of Rock and Rollah. By any other name, he would still smell as sweet — “sweet” in his case probably being a mix of dirt, sweat, and pustulent head tumors.

This is also the second time I’ve used a partial line from Shakespeare as the comic title, perhaps proving beyond a doubt that I can’t help but let a bit of pretentiousness creep into my works — that or I’m just trying to make some use out of years of formal stage training in high school and college. In my defense, though, I would point out that quoting Shakespeare wasn’t always considered pretentious. In fact, let’s talk about a historical tidbit that’s not generally remembered nowadays: Shakespeare was huge in the Old West.

Surprising? If you’ve delved into The Bard beyond a half clueless high school English teacher trying to ram him down your throat as “culture”, not so much. Shakespeare’s original audiences consisted of no small amount of undereducated farmers and tradesmen, and if you look past the outdated language (sometimes you don’t even need to do that), you’ll find quite a few sexual references, instances of bodily function humor, and other elements I can’t quite bring myself to call highbrow: for example, one of the main characters in Twelfth Night is named “Sir Toby Belch“. Even The Bard’s most somber historical works will usually contain a scene or two that seems to have no point to it but random puns and vulgar slapstick on par with the Scary Movie films, which means they’re often cut from productions or left out of school editions entirely.

But this doesn’t mean Shakespeare should be considered lowest common denominator entertainment, either. Though he wasn’t above pandering to the baser amusements of the audience, he also achieved soaring heights of poetry and emotion in his works that connected to that same audience, no matter if they were illiterate rat-catchers or cloistered noblewomen. The greatest crime committed to Shakespeare in the modern age was this social/psychological shift into the mindset that his plays are the province solely of the elite and educated minority, able to be understood and enjoyed only by them.

In the West of 19th Century America, this prejudice didn’t exist. Cowboys and trappers and miners, many of whom couldn’t read, still loved to gather round and listen to the guy who could as he read from a tattered copy of Julius Caesar, often interspersing his own unique oaths and embellishments like the best tale-tellers do. Or better yet, there was the occasion that some big name actor or troupe from back East might pull into a town and put on a professional performance at the local theater, though the experience was closer to the rowdiness of the original Elizabethan crowds than the prim and sophisticated silence expected of today’s audiences. One of my favorite anecdotes–though one terrifying to contemplate as an actor–was about a fellow so adept at playing the villainous Iago in Othello that a drunken attendee clambered onto the stage with a loaded six-shooter and threatened to gun him down where he stood unless he confessed his crimes to the other dramatis personae. I reckon in that instance there was a quick improvisation, and the play enjoyed a happier and much shorter resolution that night to prevent a bullet in the head of one of the leads.

You could hold up that example to show how savage and lawless and disrespectful the theatergoers of the Old West were, but think about it a moment: the reason it happened was because the man got that worked up about what was happening on stage. This was an era where Shakespeare still lived and breathed and was the province of the common man and woman, stirring their passions and speaking to their own experiences. In fact, if you don’t mind clicking off a couple of pop-ups, I present to you a piece that goes into a lot more fascinating detail on the subject, as well as pondering what happened between then and now: LINK

Let’s see, what else is on the news docket for today: oh yes, the possible exciting news I had mentioned last time.

We’re gonna be on a panel!

Long Beach Comic-Con has confirmed us for a 1pm panel on Sunday, Oct. 31st, called “Starting Out: Independent Publishers/Independent Creators”. I know, what a waste to have a panel on Halloween and not be talking about zombies, right? But this is our first time ever doing a convention panel, so we’re not going to be too picky; right now, Dawn and I are just both wavering between being very excited and very nervous. Hopefully we’ll have enough good insights to talk about for all five or so of our family and friends that show up to see us. 😉 Then again, maybe we’ll get a crowd and be terrified beyond the capacity for rational thought.

But as The Tick would tell us: “You can’t hide from it. You’ve got to hug it. Hug your destiny…!”

Who can say no to that big, blue mug?

We’re coming up on the first Anniversary of Zombie Ranch. It’s not quite here yet. The site went live on September 25th, 2009, and the first storyline comic was published Oct. 2nd, timed to when the doors opened to the exhibit hall at the first annual Long Beach Comic Con.

Zombie Ranch, more than anything, is a child of two conventions. I’ve told the story many times before of Dawn’s  first illustration of the then-nameless cowgirl facing down zombie hordes, and Dawn’s mad thought that she wasn’t hunting or fleeing them, but ranching them. But the truth is, there’s a lot that comes between looking at something and thinking “That might make a good story”, and actually getting a story produced. Two conventions were the fuel.

First was the San Diego Comic-Con, because Dawn drew On The Zombie Ranch as part of her prep for the Art Show. She tends to have a binge period of a few weeks staying up late to create some new pieces in addition to the  prints already planned for auction. So: no Art Show, no binge period, and possibly no Zombie Ranch illustration.

Beyond that though, the piece ended up in a bid war, and eventually sold for $85, still Dawn’s record for an Art Show offering. That response led us to believe that the concept had some legs to it. It was one thing if we thought it might be cool, but if no one else cared, why bother? Well, of course the whole idea is that if you’re convinced your idea has merit you proceed regardless, but remember here you’re dealing with two people of uncertain ego and little experience. That sale was a big boost to the esteem, and somewhere out there a gent named Gregor Mortis has the original that started all this. That was the name on the sale tally, anyhow, and whether real or not, his money was.

Still, by the end of San Diego all that really had us doing was still just kicking around the idea of a story based on Zombie Ranch. I don’t think we actually started bringing it to life until around a year ago this time. I remember because my parents had taken us to brunch for my birthday and it was there that my dad mentioned Long Beach Comic Con had cashed the check he fronted us for an application we’d made months back to get Dawn into the Artist’s Alley there. We hadn’t heard anything and so had pretty much given up on it. Now, suddenly, was the heavy implication we’d been accepted, which we shortly confirmed with the LBCC management. Last year LBCC was held at the beginning of October, meaning we had about a month to prepare for our first ever outing being exhibitors.

And that was also about the time where we decided to try to put together Zombie Ranch as both a webcomic and print comic in time for the convention. This was an absolutely insane idea in that short amount of time, especially with me working full time and Dawn going to school, but I’ll say this about insanity: it’s a driving force. I managed to get a full working draft of the first arc done in between trying to get permits and all the other exhibiting necessities arranged, which I was also bumbling through as a first-timer. Dawn meanwhile was going crazy trying to put together hosting and a website, plus draw and color everything in time to be able to hand over a proof to a contact at her college who was going to do a small print run for us on short notice.

September became a mad, mad month of equal parts creativity, resource wrangling, and frustration. We did not succeed entirely in our ambitions, scaling back from the original idea of a 12 page comic with a complete (if compressed) storyline, to a 6 page “sneak preview” mini-comic, and even that nearly drove us to the edge of exhaustion. In addition to the story we were creating characters almost from scratch… in my first draft Suzie started with the name “Jodi Mills”, which is more or less completely different than what we ended up calling her. Also I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the hard drive crash that we thought not only meant we’d lost all the work on the comic so far, but all of Dawn’s digitally stored artwork, period.

We got through that. We navigated through every obstacle thrown our way and got a webcomic up and running and an Artist’s Alley table together complete with Dawn’s portfolios and prints, two mini-comics, and a bunch of free sticker swag. It was hugely stressful, but in the end that insane, self-imposed deadline for Long Beach was what took Zombie Ranch from a mere idea to a reality. Otherwise, who knows how long it would have remained on the backburner waiting for us to “find the time”?

That said, I’m certainly looking forwards to a more leisurely lead up to this year’s 2nd Annual Long Beach outing. But this time, we’ll have a full print issue to sell, and most likely some other exciting news. Stay tuned!

As I’m writing this it happens to be August 31st in the good ol’ U.S. of A., also known as the birthday of one Clint Wolf. Having a birthday fall in the middle of a busy work week is a bit underwhelming, but it’s possible I could con someone into at least taking me out for some drinks this weekend. We shall see.

Another option could have been celebrating this past weekend, but that was mostly spent engaged in a marathon D&D session. I hit level 6 with my Protector Spirit Shaman. Good stuff.

Now if you haven’t ever had the experience of “tabletop” gaming, you may not be aware that a good portion of the time is actually spent not on the game itself but discussing various topics with your fellow nerds. In this case, I was talking of how my recent post regarding Steampunk for The Satellite Show had come about because of someone claiming Firefly/Serenity was somehow a Steampunk offering, and how nuts I found that concept.

Nah, my friend Justin said, Firefly isn’t Steampunk. It’s a Bat Durston.

A what? I’d never heard this term before.

“Bat Durston, Space Marshal.” Justin went on to introduce me to the gentleman known as Bat Durston. He was the invention of the editor of the 1950’s science fiction anthology Galaxy Magazine, a parody of the already common practice of transplanting Western tropes wholesale to a galactic setting and calling that Science Fiction: The “Space Western”.

H.L. Gold, the editor in question, was not a big fan of this trend. Actually I think it’s fair to say he outright hated it, and Bat Durston was his man for showing why. The infamous back cover of Galaxy provided two oddly similar tales printed side by side:

Jets blasting, Bat Durston came screeching down through the atmosphere of Bbllzznaj, a tiny planet seven billion light years from Sol. He cut out his super-hyper-drive for the landing…and at that point, a tall, lean spaceman stepped out of the tail assembly, proton gun-blaster in a space-tanned hand.”Get back from those controls, Bat Durston,” the tall stranger lipped thinly. “You don’t know it, but this is your last space trip.”

---

Hoofs drumming, Bat Durston came galloping down through the narrow pass at Eagle Gulch, a tiny gold colony 400 miles north of Tombstone. He spurred hard for a low overhang of rim-rock…and at that point a tall, lean wrangler stepped out from behind a high boulder, six-shooter in a sun-tanned hand.”Rear back and dismount, Bat Durston,” the tall stranger lipped thinly. “You don’t know it, but this is your last saddle-jaunt through these here parts.”

Beneath the two, Gold spelled out this little corner of his philosophy: “Sound alike? They should—one is merely a western transplanted to some alien and impossible planet. If this is your idea of science fiction, you’re welcome to it! YOU’LL NEVER FIND IT IN GALAXY!”

Gold went on to say that what you would find in Galaxy was “the finest science fiction… authentic, plausible, thoughtful… written by authors who do not automatically switch over from crime waves to alien invasions; by people who know and love science fiction… for people who also know and love it.”

So Gold doesn’t as much imply as outright state that if you write science fiction this way, then your story sucks and he’s trashing it. Was he correct in his views? To a lot of professional SF writers, he was correct enough that in the Turkey City Lexicon the Space Western entry reads:

“The most pernicious suite of “Used Furniture”. The grizzled space captain swaggering into the spacer bar and slugging down a Jovian brandy, then laying down a few credits for a space hooker to give him a Galactic Rim Job.”

This might all be starting to sound very elitist, and throughout the years since Bat Durston came on the scene there have been defenses of Space Westerns, such as people pointing out that Ray Bradbury’s Martian works have a very frontier feel to them but yet are still considered the good sort of SF. From my point of view I always hate blanket dismissals of a certain genre as being somehow less worthy than others. It goes against Sturgeon’s Law; Theodore Sturgeon being a science fiction author once famously quoted as stating “Sure, 90% of science fiction is crud. That’s because 90% of everything is crud.” Note how he didn’t single out any particular aspect of science fiction there.

But even if I’m not prepared to dump the entire concept of the Space Western in the ashbin just for being, I’d confess there’s still room to scoff at the particular style of it embodied in Bat Durston. Mr. Durston has grown beyond his humble roots to represent any sort of lazy writing where an exotic setting seems totally irrelevant to the plot or characters, to the point where the story can be transplanted to a completely different time and place if you just change a few words around.

Anyhow, if you’ve been reading this comic you’ve probably sussed out that I have a fondness for genre “mash-ups”. I’m writing one, after all. So Bat Durston seems to be a bogeyman of mash-up attempts who I didn’t know was lurking in my creative closet until just the other day. Thankfully, despite its SF/Western elements I don’t think Zombie Ranch quite falls into his territory. The zombies replace cattle, for example, but they don’t quite replace cattle, if that makes any kind of sense to state.

In the end, I think as long as there’s thought going into your story and background beyond merely “Gangsters in Outer Space” or “Angsty Teenagers with Fangs”, you can keep ol’ Bat at bay.

Now pass me the space whiskey. I gotta spend some quality time pondering another year clocked on this ol’ corral called Earth.