Holy shit, I guess the jig is up! I was shocked to discover that Trisha L. Sebastian, a contributor to Sequential Tart was actually caught reading this BLOG! I got a e-mail this afternoon at my work address to let me know she replied to a letter I wrote concerning the review she had on my Deposit Man Survival Guide To The Afterlife and there I was- caught like a platypus with its eyes glued to the headlights- she had cut and pasted a little jab I made towards Sequential Tart, in general - NOT thinking that anyone out there in LA LA BLOG LAND would actually be perusing over these clumsy finger swollen webpages. I think Trisha took umbrage towards my little jab referring " Sequential Tart as the 'last bastion of feminist nepotism'...whatever that means". I think when that popped out of my head, I was thinking (and most of the time, therefore I'm not) of that old Epic comic about female warriors who called themselves the Sisterhood of something (it wasn't Ya Ya, of that I'm certain)and I the only thing I remember clearly about the series was it always one she warrior fighting with the other over some jealously matter of a a competition on who was regarded as the finest warrior and... and... aw, who knows what the fuck I was thinking? I got caught throwing words around loosely and I'm fucking red in the face for it and that's all there is to it.
I don't have the time to spare to recollect what I used to do for Friends of Lulu anymore. I no longer partake in or have any use for their maiden agenda anymore. To me, Friends of Lulu, was for a brief time, just another liberal front for me to hide behind in spreading the wealth of the 'equality for all' campaign. I don't feel that there is a need for this organization to exist anymore - IT HAS ACCOMPLISHED IT'S MISSION (just like we did when we 'caught SADDAM!! ' Billy boy Baston' Hussein- but yet, Iraq is so lovely this time of year, that it's hard to simply head on back home). I feel that the world does know, more than enough that women are INVOLVED heavily into comics, their contributions are noted and it doesn't really need to be shoved down the muddled masses' throat anymore. I think women in comics have had made tremendous strides in the industry, a lot of their work is duly recognized AND some are rewarded handsomely for their support by all the IGNATZs and EISNER's in the world and it's simply just time to move on after it's already served it's purpose...
You see, this is the cynical depression I get into when I separate myself from the entire comic book industry. I really have no business cavorting or networking with other people in the industy anymore I usta be a contender...because with the store closed, all that remains of me is - a man content with a mission to shove the Deposit Man into the faces of the religious right and conservative hypocrites alike. Fuck with what the media has to say. Without the Deposit Man, and with me, being a such a disgruntled anamoly I really have nothing left to live for except for spending a lifetime sending twisted subversive submissions of your favorite super-heroes with intimacy problems and penile enlargements over to DC Comics.
It's funny how life works. Your constituents or colleagues don't usually have a nice thing to say about you, but complete strangers who recognize you from convention to convention are always inquiring about when the next issue is coming out and how they can't wait for it -which leads me to:
THE DEPOSIT MAN DAILY LOG REPORT
This has been one of the most hectic weeks in my history of creating and writing comics. The book is still behind schedule - two weeks to be exact with it being entirely.... halfway done. Editor, Oliver Simonsen is banging out the pages on the computer - but Oliver believes in the theory of minimalizing. Minimalizing a lot, actually. Minimalizing so much- that a lot of my heavy handed dialogue is being jettisoned into goddamn orbit. I'm all for minimalizing and all, but not to the point where my writing is totally unrecognizable from what I envisioned in my head. We had some a two hour heady discussion last night concerning the political and theological themes that I wanted to explore (and I make a really big stink about illegal immigration in this issue- and I hope it makes the book more and more controversial and I hope both conservatists and liberals can't get the smell out of their carpets for days!)in this chapter. I gotta hand it to Oliver- he's the only one besides me and Larry who shits, eats, and breathes this book. And that's the sole reason why I appointed him editor on this book - for his dedication. He's really passionate about the subject matter and the characters....unlike Scott Goodell was.
I had to let MAS go, even though days later after my last blog entry when he announced that he had to leave for personal reasons - he later expressed interest in finishing the book. He called saying that his problems were taken care and it wasn't a big deal as he originally was led to believe- but I can't simply afford being Mister Courier running between my home and Beverly Hills and back to Sherman Oaks Border's on a crosstown bus handing off artwork to anyone who is only going to go halfway in completing the pages. My old comrade...and my only good friend who happens to 5 years older than me (I used to think that once I turned FORTY - I would root myself firmly to the ground into a mass of grey hairs and beard - but fuck, I think I look absolutely fantastic for a guy of forty)Alan Sinder will be inking the final three pages. However, I do think MAS is a unbridled talented genius and I do want to work with him on my sequel project to the Deposit Man - but it seems lately that I have to wait until he reaches the age of consent- like until he can work without anyone looking over his shoulder all the time and not shy away from the subject matter. There were two pages he flat out refused to work on because of the incidents which were occuring on both pages - which Oliver and Alan had to take over from.
Well, you know, it isn't labeled for Mature Readers for nothing, folks.
Sorry for the delay on this entry - but work became ugly again and any spare time I had were in trying to get this book completed. Next week I give Brenner a call for a qoute and see how everything progresses from there. In the meantime, I'm literally shitting bricks on whether I've been accepted for the San Diego small press area - but I won't hear anything until the middle of next week.
Tomorrow morning I have to set my alarm clock for the Tim Hunter 3 movie that I have a pass GOOD FOR 4 people to go with - my four favorite gals in the world, or least in the city of Los Angeles all have other plans (and I promise to get around to writing a blog entry on each of them, one of these days ). People working on the DEPOSIT MAN have other plans. What the fuck does this tell me, that I'm too hard up to socialize with these days?