Monday, March 25, 2013
So since I'm not taking any actual drawing classes this semester, I decided to double up and buy a Kubert School Correspondence Course. A few things factored into this decision: #1, I'm not drawing for school and I don't want to get lazy and not draw all together. #2, it had to be correspondence because I live on the other side of the country. And #3, this is arguably one of if not the most prestigious schools for people trying to get into comics to go to. It was started and is still run by comics legends. So this is a practice piece I did just trying to figure out how I was going to place everything on the page and how I was going to pace a 3 panel story. When I am finished with the final product, you'd better believe I'll be posting it. This style of drawing is not really my style, it's a little more "cartoony" that what I normally do, but hey, it wasn't for submission, so who cares?
So I decided to post some things I've written here on the blog, along with some artwork. I'll explain each piece as I go, so here's to hoping this works. This first piece was something I wrote for a class. It was only intended to be the beginning of a story, a hook to get the reader interested. I intend to revisit this story some time and possibly draw it out in graphic novel form or something. All I know is one day, I want to finish this. This is called, "Where Were You Last Night?"
The sun still hadn’t come up quite yet, but it was beginning to make it’s presence known in the world. The darkness of the night was slowly giving way to the daylight, but the cars on the street still had their lights on. Headlights filed through the blinds into the empty bar, the chairs turned upside down on the tables temporarily striped white by their presence only to be abandoned by the light shortly after. The only sound Nick could hear other then when he kissed the lip of the bottle of Johnny Walker to his shot glass and poured himself a companion, was the sound of the cars as they passed by. It had rained a few hours prior, and the rubber of the tires made that distinct noise of driving when there’s just a little water on the street. Nick had been listening for that sound for hours, waiting for the sound to draw nearer to him, rather than continue driving. The boys, it would appear, were late.
Nick poured himself another friend, and tilted his head back as he drank. The alcohol cut into his throat as he flushed it down into his stomach. He wasn’t much for drinking. It was his job to get other people drunk, and yet even when he did drink, it was usually beer. But not after a night like last night. A night like that excuses a man from his sobriety, and Nick chose Johnny Walker to be the one to do the excusing.
Nick killed another shot and slammed the glass down on the table, annoyed at the whole situation. “Easy there, kiddo,” said a voice from the corner of the room. “That table hasn’t done anything to you.”
Nick spun around in his chair, dizzy from moving too fast. He wasn’t sure if it was the booze doing his seeing for him, but it looked like Miles literally walked out of a shadow. Nick fumbled over what to say to Miles and ended up saying nothing.
“Surprised? You shouldn’t be. And you shouldn’t be drinking alone. But I’m not here to be your mother, I’m here for answers. Had me one hell of a night, Nick. Funny thing was, now that I have the chance to think about everything that happened, you weren’t around.” Miles closed distance between them, pulling an upside down chair off a table and righting it on the floor. He walked around the table and positioned himself directly across from Nick. This is how Miles liked to do business, face to face. Miles sat down wearing his confidence on his sleeve. He could see Nick was nervous and shocked all at once.
“Huh. See, I would think, with everything that went down last night, you sure as shit would’a been around for all of it. You know when it came to me Nick? It came to me when a group of men got out of a car and tried to take my life with automatic weapon fire. I thought to myself, ‘Where the hell is Nick?’ I had a chance to talk to some of those men right before I executed them. Which brings me here, to this bar, to this chair, and to the six million dollar question: Where were you last night?”
So if I get some positive feedback on this, I'll see about posting some more of my writing.