One Year's Work

 A year ago today, Christmas Eve 2019, I started penciling the Outskirts fantasy historical fiction graphic novel. I thumbnailed the script a few weeks before and sat at the drawing table on the first day of my holiday break.

Since then, the comic has gone through two drafts and a color layer. This isn't the first page of the comic any more. This is.

I played with breaking panel borders and slowing the movement of the story slightly. But this is still a recap of the first Outskirts issues, where we meet the Ladies of the Lake. But this comic expands that premise a lot.

I haven't worked on one story this much. It's been literal years. I hope I can craft a final product that shows the time and consideration. But I am hobbled by constant internal comparisons. "It doesn't look like this artist or that artist." It makes me question the work, but I can't redo the story infinitely. It has to be released into the wild. And then I can work on the next story.

Second Proof

Printed a new proof and tackled it in the early Saturday hours. I wanted to sleep, but it called to me. Called me lazy. I couldn't let that go unanswered. 

 There's a 60-year leap between panels on this page. We move around a bit in this one.

I put sticky notes on the right side of pages for edits and a note on the left-hand side for pages that need new artwork -- panels or entire pages. I don't have many of those, and I knew they were necessary. Only found a few instances of panels I discovered simply don't work. The temptation to redo art throughout is strong, but I would never stop. I have this dread of carrying the project around my neck for years. Remember Michael Douglas in Wonder Boys, carrying around a printed manuscript the size of a cinder block? That. I don't want that.

I've begun work on the next Heroes of Sinclair story too, and that will become my focus before long. I feel the call of superheroes again. It's been a few years.