24 Hour Comics Day Noble Failure

Photo credit: Troy Little (c) 2011, Summerside PEI.

October 20th was this year's 24 Hour Comics Day. Usually I like to host the event at my place in Kanata (DragonHead Studio), but unfortunately due to renovations, I wasn't able to!

That didn't stop me from jumping into the challenge and tackling it with the ridiculous bravado for which I've become famous. It's been a long while since I've tried a 24 Hour Comic challenge solo, in fact, it's been 11 years. My first one... which has yet to be completed and scanned, was done solo. It was a brutal experience, even 11 years younger. And this October's event was no exception.

I kicked off around 10:30 am. I highly recommend starting in the morning. The one time I gave 'er a go in the evening (2008 I think), was an exhausting and abysmal failure. I only managed to get to 19 pgs that time 'round (yet another comic clamouring to be completed and shared!)

This time I also was missing critical supplies I usually have on hand for such things: jellybeans, icy squares and the horrifying 'drink' known as Rev. Apparently no one in Stittsville drinks Rev (which is the location of the LCBO I tried first).

This time 'round I also decided I would do things differently. Instead of doing a complete page/ hour as Scott McCloud suggests, I was going to tackle the problem by penciling my pages first. That meant I had to crank pages out in 1/2 hr increments. Crazy!

But, my thought went something like this: if I don't finish my inking entirely, at least I'll have all the pencils done. I'll have a complete story told (instead of the several 24 hr comics languishing around that all seem to peter out around pg 19 or so!)

Things trucked on well. I was using the 110 lbs. white card stock that I prefer (the same stuff we use at the Ottawa Comic Jams), penciling with Bic #2 mechanical pencils, ruling out panels (I hate rulers and panels in general, but this time they seemed appropriate). The story rolled out and I hit the 12 hr mark with the entire comic penciled and fairly lucid. I was a bit disappointed that the pacing of the story goes crazy in the last 3-4 pgs ('Oh my God, I'm out of pages!?') Oopsie. Anyway, they do wrap up somehow. And no splash pages!

Splash pages are a cheat when you get behind, doing it the old-fashioned way (case in point, pg 7 from 'The Magic Cauldron', my 24 Hr comic from 2007!). This time I found I needed every single page at my disposal for the story I was telling. It felt satisfying to be able to move through the pages and panels and honestly use every bit of them to the best of my ability (and not feel like I was 'behind' all night!)

Around 4:00 am or so, I was flagging. I had coffee, horrible candies I'd found somewhere (augh!) and my eyes were getting blurry. My inking was going to hell and I was ruining my comic. I was also utterly exhausted and realized that although I firmly believe anyone regardless of age or ability can tackle these things, that I was feeling every one of my sleepy 43 yr-old-bones  yelling at me to GO TO BED.

So I did.

And didn't feel guilty for one minute.

I got up the next day after about 5 hrs of sleep and kept inking for a bit, til the time ran out. I was pleased that I had a comic, pretty much finished, where before there had been absolutely nothing.

I'm a procrastinator, big time. The beauty of the 24 Hr Comic is that;  if you do it, once a year, you will have in your hands, at the end of that period of time: a comic. This means, no matter what happens during the rest of the year, you will have produced at least one physical comic with no delays, procrastination, what-ifs, over-thinking, guilt or apathy. Hurray!

I've been inking the beast on and off all week and I'm happy as a peach. The panels are pretty clean, the lettering isn't wobbly and I'm using templates for my word balloons(!) I hauled my folder to the Ottawa Comic Jam last night to share and had some really supportive and sweet comments on it (thanks Emily!)

Sure, it's a "Noble Failure", since it does not adhere strictly to the Dare's rules. But that's ok. I'm in good company (what with the likes of Neil Gaiman and Kevin Eastman setting the bar!) And I'm proud that I created this thing.

When it's finished, I'll post it over on my Deviantart gallery, which you can get to by clicking here.

Cheers, and thanks for reading my ramblings (as always).
And.
If you haven't tried the 24 Hr Comic challenge yet-- do it! You have nothing to lose (except a bit of sleep). It's worth it and it is an experience unlike any other.

Next year, I WILL be hosting the 24 Hour Comics Day Event at DragonHead Studio. Get your pencils ready!

All the best,
Suzanne.

Thank you Neil

I'm always grateful for wisdom, compassion and humour to sand the edges of heretical madness. I want to thank Neil Gaiman for being an emissary of that crinkled wisdom, grinning laughter, sober fourth and fifth thoughts (and sixth shots). I love Charles de Lint dearly, but today I needed Neil and only Neil would do.

First off, Troy Little posted a link to Frank Miller coming across like a lunatic about the Occupy movement (which made me come up with the idea that an Occupy Sin City poster would be quite interesting.) Then, while I was absorbing this and shaking my head, I read a Tweet from Scott McCloud about it: "BTW, No matter how batshit Frank's political rant may be, that's a great silhouetted drawing of him on his blog."

Then, I read a Tweet from Neil that lead to a post from 2006, which I'm reposting here, to better describe my own thoughts about it (content is copyright Neil Gaiman (c)2006):

Neil Gaiman's thoughts on "...not feeling guilty about liking the art of people [I] disagree with personally or politically..."

Hi Neil,

I've been a fan of your work for awhile now and I just came across your site. I've had this nagging question, about authors, stuck in my brain for awhile now and I thought you might have an answer or opinion.
If you really enjoy an author's stories and then you find out the author (not you) is a jerk or believes in some fairly wretched things would you keep reading this author's works?
I suppose it's similar to the whole crazy celebrity dilema. Do I really want to go see a movie that looks good even though that guy is in it?
Thanks,
Kyle

If I were only allowed to read or enjoy art or listen to music made by people whose opinions and beliefs were the same as mine, I think the world would be a pretty dismal sort of a place. I love the work of many creators who self-avowedly believe or believed things that I consider to be "fairly wretched", not to mention wrong-headed, lunatic, irresponsible or simply wrong. Worse yet: there are artists, actors, songwriters, authors, whose work I love, like or admire and who, biographers or historians tell us, actually did things that were utterly reprehensible. And worse even than that, there are all those things by Anonymous, who could have been or thought or done, well, anything, and we'll never know...

Ezra Pound was a fascist, an antisemite on a level that makes the Aryan Nation seem wishy washy, a traitor (or at best, a collaborator), and I'm very glad I got to read his poetry, and appreciate it and learn from it. I could list dozens more without breaking a sweat. Most, probably all, human beings get to do awful things and believe things that other human beings think they should be burned for believing, and they get to do and believe wonderful things too, and artists, writers, musicians, creators, actors, are nothing if not human beings.

The art isn't the artist, the poem isn't the poet; trust the tale, not the teller.

(The sad flip-side is I've met people -- writers and artists -- over the years who I liked immediately, with whom I found myself agreeing on everything to do with art and aesthetics so closely that we might have shared the same head, people whose world-views were pretty much mine, whom I'd talk with far into the night and whom I parted from excited that I'd met them, looking forward to nothing more than reading their writing or looking at their art... and then I would find what they had done, and, at least as far as my taste was concerned, the books would be uninteresting, the drawings ugly or clumsy. And in an odd way, that hurts more than liking the work of someone who behaved badly, or thought in a way that I consider offensive or wrong.)


======

I'm an easy-going person, and like to try and get along with everyone I can. I hate being judgmental (and dislike being judged intensely), I avoid confrontation as much as possible. Finding comfort in an author's artful words for something that makes me uncomfortable and upset was such a relief and a soothing balm, I actually did send a quick reply to Neil in thanks. That is why they are the writers, these 'Kindly Ones', who can hammer the words together and throw them down for us to nod and grin at and to take that solace from.

In crashing about in Neil land, I came upon the following "I believe" from American Gods, which I would love to just have stapled to Womangue as an emblazoned motto (though it's rather large). Instead, I'll repost it here. Apparently it is available in t-shirt form at Neverwear. This is also copyright (c)2011 Neil Gaiman. Thank you so much.

Suzanne.

======

"I can believe things that are true and I can believe things that aren't true and I can believe things where nobody knows if they're true or not. I can believe in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny and Marilyn Monroe and the Beatles and Elvis and Mister Ed. Listen–I believe that people are perfectible, that knowledge is infinite, that the world is run by secret banking cartels and is visited by aliens on a regular basis, nice ones who look like wrinkledy lemurs and bad ones who mutilate cattle and want our water and our women. I believe that the future sucks and I believe that the future rocks and I believe that one day White Buffalo Woman is going to come back and kick everyone's ass. I believe that all men are just overgrown boys with deep problems communicating and that the decline of good sex in America is coincident with the decline in drive-in movie theaters from state to state. I believe that all politicians are unprincipled crooks and I still believe that they are better than the alternative. I believe that California is going to sink into the sea when the big one comes, while Florida is going to dissolve into madness and alligators and toxic waste. I believe that antibacterial soap is destroying our resistance to dirt and disease so that one day we'll all be wiped out by the common cold like the Martians in War of The Worlds. I believe that the greatest poets of the last century were Edith Sitwell and Don Marquis, that jade is dried dragon sperm, and that thousands of years ago in a former life I was a one-armed Siberian shaman. I believe that mankind's destiny lies in the stars. I believe that candy really did taste better when I was a kid, that it's aerodynamically impossible for a bumblebee to fly, that light is a wave and a particle, that there's a cat in a box somewhere who's alive and dead at the same time (although if they don't ever open the box to feed it it'll eventually just be two different kinds of dead), and that there are stars in the universe billions of years older than the universe itself. I believe in a personal god who cares about me and worries and oversees everything I do. I believe in an impersonal god who set the universe in motion and went off to hang with her girlfriends and doesn't even know that I'm alive. I believe in an empty and godless universe of causal chaos, background noise, and sheer blind luck. I believe that anyone who says that sex is overrated just hasn't done it properly. I believe that anyone who claims to know what's going on will lie about the little things too. I believe in absolute honesty and sensible social lies too. I believe in a woman's right to choose, a baby's right to live, that while all human life is sacred there's nothing wrong with the death penalty if you can trust the legal system implicitly, and that no one but a moron would ever trust the legal system. I believe that life is a game, that life is a cruel joke, and that life is what happens when you're alive and that you might as well lie back and enjoy it."

Credits:
The photo of Neil Gaiman at the top of the blog is by Allan Amato and is available in poster form
Sin City comic image is by Frank Miller.
Scott McCloud's head comic panel is by Scott McCloud.
The poster from American Gods is by Molly Crabapple.

We don't need no stinkin' sleep!

In honour of the upcoming 24 Hour Comics Day event at my place, I took time to post my 24 Hour Comic from this August. Actually, this is a chunk of history in the making... I've completed four 24 Hour Comics out of six tries, and the upcoming event on Saturday will be my seventh go 'round. It will be the first time I've ever tried to do two 24 Hour Comics in one year. Wow!

Anyway, I'd like to thank Troy Little for hosting the August 4th's 24 Hour Comics Day event at the West End Cottage in Summerside, PEI to cap off Comic Book Shark Week. I had a grand time, met some truly creative and cool people and made a crazy, blood-soaked comic. What could be better? Oh and there's swears in it. Sorry!

To check out my contribution to 24 Hour Comics Day history: "The Hour Before the Dawn", please head on over to my Deviant Art account and take a looksee.

Cheers, and hope to see y'all out either at the 'Backwards' comic jam tomorrow at 7pm, or on the weekend for 24 Hour Comics Day.

Suzanne.

PS--here's some fantastic photos of the 24 Hour Comics Day event in August! (All photos, including the one below are (c) 2011 Troy Little).

Bean squeezer

I suppose there is a certain irony to flavouring roasted, ground bean juice with pressed bean juice... hmm...

Thanks to Brain Power Studio, I'm going to be at Wizard Con this weekend in Toronto! So, you will notice a delay of comics for a few days. I won't have a table, but will be circulating around. Hopefully I'll see YOU! I'll be the girl that looks like my comic-persona... and I will have a fuzzy ex-Saskatchewan guy with me.

I'm looking forward to getting all creatively reinvigorated with the comics everywhere and also catching up with the creators of Angora Napkin: Troy Little and Nick Cross! Get out to the Con and check out their stuff.

Cheers!
Suzanne.

Cages

I was delighted to find Dave McKean's "Cages" at the Comic Book Shoppe. Troy Little had leant me the hardcover years ago, and I'd never had the chance to read it (yes, I did return the book!) I thoroughly enjoyed reading the work this time around: floored by exquisite story-telling and masterful paintings.

The Heart's Desire Valentine's Women's Dance happens every year at the NAC. Usually I don't attend, but this time I found myself with a date, which was serendipitous and fun! It was nice enjoying good company and freedom of movement--doing things that last year would've been impossible.

It was also fun catching up with Rob Anderson and Keith Savage over the weekend. Keith has a great food blog (if you are interested in learning how to make kick@$$ pizza, and other things check it out!) Robbie has a fantastic channel on Youtube with some fun editing work on it. He also owns Noise2Signal.

The t-shirt I'm sporting for Valentine's dim sum is Troy's great "Angora Napkin" t. Super fit, awesome design. Pick one up today!

Cheers,
Suzanne.

Christmas 2010

2010 was an exciting year, full of change, travel and new beginnings. Mid-February, I was admitted to hospital in Utica, NY for a gastric bypass. The surgery itself took longer than my Mom would’ve liked, but I was grateful to have Dr. Fitzer’s time well spent getting everything ‘just right’. I’m relieved to have a new lease on life: one without pain, or the mobility issues that had become a way of life, or the looming threat of diabetes.

May was another beginning in my life, with the birth of Brain Power Studio, headed by Beth Stevenson. A lifelong childhood friend and creative powerhouse, Beth had a vision to create great children’s programming, educational content and publishing. Thankfully, she also pictured a certain writer-artist in the mix: me! The studio launch happened in June and we received excited accolades and many toasts. ‘Overhead Bob’, our stalwart figurehead was present, as was ‘Team Zero’. We posed, were quoted and made toasts of our own.

At the end of July, my Mom and I headed to the States once more. We crossed into Vermont, drove through the breathtaking mountains of New Hampshire and into Maine. We stayed in Bangor (and even visited Stephen King’s house!) We headed back into Canada near St. Stephen. The Duty-free store had a back window where you drove around to collect any alcohol you’d picked up, to ensure that the booze was Canada-bound. It felt like something from the old ‘prohibition’ days!

We visited lovely St.Andrew’s-by-the-Sea, caught the ferry from Saint John to Digby, then drove to Lunenburg. We had great travel luck and enjoyed tasty food and friendliness wherever we went. Thanks to our GPS, losing our map in the States didn’t set us back too much. We caught the Ferry to PEI and made our way to Charlottetown, the ‘Birthplace of Confederation’ There, we caught up with Troy, Carol, Alicen & Hayden, met new friends and enjoyed great music. I was able to share the lovely beaches and scenery with Mom and enjoyed wonderful Island Hospitality shown by Troy’s folks as they hosted a delightful brunch for us. We left for Miramichi that afternoon and had a great time reconnecting with Robbie, Bobbie, Chloe, Piper and Briar.

Mom and I had a blast going on a few mini-road trips with the Stewart-Anderson clan, up to Escuminac for fresh lobster, then to Cape Enrage the next day to explore the cobble beach. Everyone found cool fossils! After far too short a stay, we headed west, spending the night at Riviere-du-Loup. It wasn’t long before we negotiated the traffic snarl of Montreal and were safely home, backs slowly unkinking with tasty drinks in hand!

It was so nice reuniting with Clayton and of course Hank! Hank has enjoyed being fostered during all my trips at the cottage with Vicki, Anders, Emilia and Dan. We’re very lucky that he has his ‘home-away-from-home’ available and such loving people to spoil him rotten.

October 13th was a momentous day, as the ever-youthful Clayton turned the ‘big 5-0’. We celebrated over delicious dim sum at our favourite place in Kanata. Clayton and I shared a birthday gift of a PS3 game system and he received lots of new games. We’re still trying to figure out all the controls; but are having fun! Getting a new toy when you turn 50 is probably the best way to describe Clayton’s outlook on life: “13 going on 50”.

I was fortunate this year to receive a pass to the Ottawa International Animation Festival. I enjoyed meeting lots of creative and cool people, catching inspiring animated films and also testing my endurance at several industry parties. It was delightful being able to walk everywhere without worrying about stairs, distance or pain… although by the end of it I was happy to get a rest! It was a thrill getting to be a part of the festival and helping to get Brain Power’s name out there.

Clayton and I continued to coordinate the monthly Ottawa Comix Jam at the Shanghai Restaurant. The Ottawa comic scene is vibrant and the people are fun. We were happy to see a lot of new faces turn up at the gatherings and some great artwork produced. The Shanghai has offered to host an art show for our group next April and we are planning how that will come about. It should be a blast!

Mom and I enjoyed a couple of lovely trips to Belleville: in October to celebrate Uncle Dale’s 70th birthday and in December for the family’s annual Tree Trim. It was such fun getting to catch up with all the cousins, sisters and aunts ;-)

November, I spent illustrating ‘Momma’s Magic’, another children’s book by local author Bobby Salvin, which is at the printers. Once that was completed, I was ready for my next adventure…

LAS VEGAS! Mom and I skipped town Dec 9th and winged west on Westjet’s inaugural non-stop flight to Nevada. Complete with showgirls, an Elvis impersonator, free drinks and prizes, the flight was a hoot! We stayed at Bugsy Siegel’s famous hotel ‘The Flamingo’, where Hunter S. Thompson had penned ‘Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas’. It was a beautiful place with a bird sanctuary and marble opulence everywhere. But, the main attraction for us was across the street at Caesar’s Palace. Saturday night, we attended the last show of Leonard Cohen’s 3 year tour at the Coliseum. What a treat! This 76 year-old, full of grace and generosity, love and heart, backed by some of the most talented musicians in the industry, wowed us for over 3 hours. Ovation followed ovation and encore followed encore. He dusted off songs from 30 years ago and rolled out his hits. Polka-dot blouses fluttered in the air and the crowd breathed sighs of amazement as ‘Hallelujah’ soared over us. It was an incredible, memorable night—where everyone wore fedoras and roses cascaded over the stage.

We spent a day recovering, then ventured to Arizona to see the Grand Canyon. Words and pictures fall short of describing the natural beauty of this place. I was shocked seeing people far past the ‘safety barricade’, posing with small children inches from the precipices however. Apparently around 15 tourists plunge per year. We kept our distance, and used up the batteries in both our cameras shooting a pile of pictures.

We also spent time at the slot machines, and a couple of nice wins paid for my tour of the Canyon and also a Burlesque show! We hoofed it all around, rode the monorail and the bus, explored the Luxor’s display on “Bodies” which was intense and humbling. We also paused at the famous Gold and Silver Pawn shop and poked around. No deals there, but plenty of great history my Dad would’ve enjoyed.

I realize that this year’s traveling would’ve been impossible for me last year. The little things had the biggest impact: doing up a seat belt on a plane without an extender, walking up a flight of stairs without a cane; walking up stairs on a double-decker bus, sitting in a booth at a restaurant. Simply having the energy to do all of these things. Surgery is partly to thank for this, but the other part is the support and love from my family and friends during the long road to healing and losing over 100 lbs.

I send our best wishes out to you for the season, may it be one of happiness, relaxation and peace. However you celebrate the holidays, may you spend it in love, held warmly and firmly in the embrace of people who care for you and keep you close to their hearts. May the New Year bring equal measures of goodness, luck, health and beauty your way.

Big hugs and plenty o’ love,
Suzanne & Clayton

The Incredibly Shrinking Sue

Hi Everyone,

It has been a bit of a while since I posted (although truth to tell, I do have a lot of drafts languishing in the bin). I've found if I'm keeping a traditional journal, I don't blog as much (and vice verse). So, sorry for the long silence. Recently I had to go out of country for surgery and there have been a number of questions about that, so I thought doing a blog would help clear up some of the mysteries. (OOh!!)

February 10th this year found me in Utica NY at Faxton-St.Luke's hospital, being prepped for a Roux-n-Y gastric bypass. I had to get up at 4:30am to be at the hospital for quarter to 6, which was about as pleasant as it sounds! As well, this was day three of my 72 hr liquid fast, so I was not in a pleasant frame of mind. Plus I was scared shitless (no kidding!)

It was cold and dark and the wind was up when we pulled into Parking Lot A of the hospital. Parking is free, which is nice, considering the hours that my Mom spent driving back and forth from our little room a the Red Roof Inn and back to the parking lot. I had my shoulder bag with all my paper work with me (no idea if I'd need it or not!) Plus over the other shoulder, my CPAP machine (sleep apnea therapy device) that the folks in Utica said I'd need to bring. Mom had my clothes' bag, the bag with all my drugs in it and a half bottle of distilled water (didn't know if I'd need it for the CPAP machine, but better safe than sorry!)

In no time, I was getting prepped. Shucked off clothes for a stylin', backless robe (arg), all my clothes went into a bag. It looked a bit pathetic seeing my stuff in a plastic bag with a tag on it. Like I'd possibly never see them again and they would be all that was left of me. Pretty much all the stuff we'd toted up to the hospital through the howling wind was unnecessary, so Mom ended up having to hump it back to the car. Sigh!

We waited in a small ward and I got fitted with an IV port. (*expletive deleted*) It hurt like hell getting that rammed into my left hand. And that is the hand with the nerve damage in it, so you can imagine how it would've felt in the right hand! I was eventually encouraged to hop up on the bed and just tried to breathe a bit. Finally a friendly orderly wheeled me out into the hall and Mom followed along, until she was directed to the 'waiting room'. At least they are fairly pleasant rooms with comfy chairs and no fluorescent lights...

Now I was in the 'Holding Tank', the room you are to lie in until you're queued up to be wheeled to surgery. People asked me questions, ticked off ticks, checked me and waited for Dr. Fitzer to appear. It was 8:20am and I was full of immense dread, doubt, fear, second thoughts, cold feet... well, actually my feet WERE cold, so that explains that...

Dr. Fitzer arrived and explained once more about the procedure and about post-op care of the pouch that he was going to try and make. He basically laid everything on the line about the dangers of not over-filling the pouch (which leads to pouch failure and death). Way to go! Thanks for helping me feel even more terrified right before surgery. But, I have to say, these guys were utter pros and let you know everything up front. I could've said "No" right there and hopped off the table, but I recommited to the damned thing. It was a no-brainer at this point and I had fought so hard to get to where I was lying, I knew that I had to go through with it.

Finally I was wheeled to the elevators, then down one level (no! Not the basement!) It was hushed and the orderly wasn't making any more jokes. I was quiet and apprehensive. The doors to the surgery swung open and I was in a large room chock full of machines and monitors. The lights directly above me put me in mind of the opening to the 'Six Million Dollar Man'.

There were also some lovely flat screen TV's surrounding the surgery area. At that moment I'd completely forgotten that I was to receive laparoscopy surgery and the nature of the TV's eluded me. I was about to pipe up that they must enjoy watching movies during surgery when I finally clued in! Yeahhh.... ok... :-) (Laparoscopic surgery uses cameras to guide the surgeon in their work..they watch via television).

The bottom of the gurney I was on was an inflatable matress. With the touch of a button, the mattress inflated with a wooshing sound and lifted me up from the gurney. With the help of the team, I was moved onto the surgery table, riding the air mattress and making the transfer a snap. What a great idea!

Finally a familiar face from the Holding Tank appeared; it was the anaesthesiologist. Ahh, how nice... finally I could leave the hammering heart panic of a rabbit with its leg in a clamp and just ease right out. I wished the surgeon well (in my head) and followed the directions of the fellow with the gas. A few half-hearted prayers vaguely directed to my Dad and any other supreme power that might be taking an interest wafted out of me as the anaesthetic took hold, then all was black.

Back in the waiting room, Mom had been patient over the time that a normal procedure would normally take; about 1 1/2 - 2 hrs. Finally, a little after lunch, Dr. Fitzer came to her, looking tired. It had taken over 4 hours for the work to be done and he let her know that I finally had my 'pouch'. I'm not sure if it was simply my weight, of the way my body is put together with all of the organs and fat very much centralized (I'm a potato/apple shaped person) or what. Thankfully, these guys are the best, and I was in professional hands the whole way through. The Dr. told Mom I'd be in the recovery room for a few hours, so she headed to the Hotel to rest and get a bit of lunch.

I don't remember much of the Recovery Room. It was brighter than the Holding Tank, and I felt a bit raw. My throat was dry as a bone and sore as hell. I felt a bit numbed out. During the stay people would often ask for my full name before proceeding to either give me drugs or do various things. Two hours seemed to pass very quickly for me, and once again I found myself traveling on the wheeled gurney, under the guidance of a different orderly and possibly a nurse?

They brought me to the bariatric patients' area of St.Luke's and lost my admiration by whanging the gurney into the doorjamb of my room. The pain that came up from my belly was unlike any I'd endured. I let out a protesting howl of agony and glared at twinkletoes who'd pulled the move. The nurse(?) had a few tart words for him, but I don't recall any apologies. Hmm, one can tell that we're not in Canada any longer...

The room was small but well appointed with medical gear, a bathroom, a broad window facing the parking lot and a tall spruce. I was pretty disoriented and sore and unsure of what was going on. A woman took that opportunity to stick her head in the door and say "TELEVISION??" with a foxlike face and bright eyes darting back and forth. I said "No thanks", and got a surprised look in return. It took her 3 days of trying to finally give up on me. I was happy to be in a land with no TV.

Mom appeared soon after that and it was wonderful seeing her. Just squeezing her hand and knowing that it was over and I was safely on the other side felt like a million gold sparkles. Her face was tight with worry, but I let her know I was ok. I'll never be able to make up that time for her that she spent worrying over me in the Waiting Room, but at least now, on the other side, she could see I was alright.

An enormous bouquet of flowers and a balloon from Chester's Flower Shop was brought in shortly after that. It was from Fiona, with the card reading "Love doesn't accept distances. Hugs and love, Sue -- FI". Well, I got all teary seeing the beautiful roses, daisies and carnations. Mom set up all my cards of encouragement from everyone around the flowers and then pressed a fuzzy stuffed animal in my arms. It was a red-brown dachshund. "What do you want to call him?" She asked. I thought for a second, petting the plush ears and looking into the cute face of the critter "Hank Jr.?" We both laughed, and of course it hurt.


Now began a series of days involving not drinking enough fluids, getting my IV taken out (and then put back in), learning to walk without pain, learning to haul myself out of bed without having to rely on a nurse. Getting asked if I had peed or passed gas (critical things when people mess with your insides I suppose). I regarded my wounds curiously; there were six of them, and of those six only one had been 'bad' (leaking a little for the first few days). The time was a blur of rotating nurses and care attendants, always with thermometers, blood pressure machines (that didn't work on me), blood sugar monitors and then injections of insulin (at this point I was borderline Diabetic --sigh!) There were also injections of blood thinners to avoid the danger of blood clots, and the Spirometer in which one inhales deeply to help the lungs recover from the anaesthetics during surgery.

What I still can't figure out is why these poking, prodding, injecting and taking of readings has to be done in the middle of the night? Like 2:30am? 4:00am? Are these women (98% women anyway) trained in the art of sadism? Why is my 4:00am temperature so important? It was annoying. It was very difficult to sleep anyway, and finding yourself being woken up to have your blood pressure measured didn't help.


Asking for pain medication became a game as well. If it was under the allotted time (4 hrs.) the nurses simply ignored the request. Sometimes, they did that even though 4 hrs. had passed. I was on percocet and was later told by Dr. Fitzer's weekend replacement that I wouldn't be released as long as I was on the narcotic. So, once I clued into that, I stopped asking for pain medication. Unfortunately, the hospital didn't seem to believe in an interim pain reliever, like percocet..then to Tylenol 3 or something? Or even extra-strength Tylenol? I just rode it out and knew it was worth it, if it meant I'd get out of the place sooner.

One of the nicer events was having a shower. It felt good to walk carefully down the hall with the attendant to the Shower Room. It was full of home-made giant PVC chairs on wheels, designed for people who were not in the normal range of weight (say 300 lbs. +) The shower was delightful. It was quiet and I got to just spend time in the warmth, getting clean and feeling the grime and ick of the last few days go away. I wandered back to my room when I was done and of course there were a bunch of people wanting to take my temperature waiting. I dried off and tried to comb my hair but had to wait for the nurses to do their thing.

Sunday, I was finally given the go-ahead to go home (after abstaining from my pain meds for far too long). I was given yet another scare speech about the dangers of pushing my pouch before it was ready. And that it took 3 weeks, not 2, not 2 1/2 weeks for the tiny pouch that Dr. Fitzer had made to heal. If I broke it, the results would be fatal. At least I was in a better frame of mind to accept the speech than when I was on my back in the Holding Tank.

The outside air smelled cold and fresh. I was so happy to be out. It was snow/freezing rain, but I didn't care. Mom pulled the truck up to the front doors and I gingerly climbed up and inside. Every jounce and bump on the road translated to instant pain in my belly. It was curdled with pain and I wanted an acetaminophen (Tylenol). The ones I had were simply to big for me to handle and when we got back to the hotel I used a pill splitter with moderate success on one of the pills (which turned into 3 shattered and pointy fragments). I took the biggest one with a bit of water and juice mixed together.

The hotel was heaven compared to the hospital. The bed was huge and comfy and once I set up my CPAP device, I was ready to nap. I was still extremely tired and sore from the drive down. We watched a bit of the Olympics (skiing) and parts of movies. My attention span wasn't that great. Finally we settled on competitive cooking shows and that was mindless fun. I propped myself up on cushions and snuggled down under the blankets and watched chefs try and make wonders of the world out of chocolate.

I wasn't hungry at all, I sipped my juice/water, later had 1/3 of a Popsicle. This has continued since I've come home. I have protein/soy for my meals, and am slowly integrating soft foods into the rotation. I'm taking B12, 2 multis, a pill to help with my blood pressure and a couple to reduce the effects of stomach acid (to help protect the pouch). I also had to self-inject the blood thinner medication for the first 5 days at home, which was awful. I suck at self-injection (and trying to pretend I was William Burroughs didn't help--thanks Troy!)


Over the last two weeks, I've lost an average of 3 lbs. a day, this morning it's a total loss of about 40 lbs. My legs actually look pretty good (have had continual problems with them for the last couple of years) and I am walking better, and with less pain in my joints. I still fatigue quickly though, but that is because I'm continuing to heal.

I want to thank everyone for their kindness, support, love and hope during this very scary ordeal. It means a lot to me that your thoughts were with me, that your flowers came and uplifted my spirits, that your cards and words helped me get through some of the fear and doubt of the surgery. It is love that lifts us up and the light that sees us through. More news to come! (I hope ;-)

Cheers
Suzanne.


Resources & Info
Dr. Graber & Dr. Fitzer
Dr. Bishop's Ottawa Weight Loss Center
Ottawa Weightloss Support Group
British Obesity Surgery Patient Association

Illustration of William S. Burroughs by Robert Crumb.
Sue with flowers photo courtesy of Keith Savage.

Troy Little and Nick Cross OIAF with Angora Napkin

I know, it is no secret that I have a fondness for Mr. Little and Mr. Cross. That being said, my obsession with their extremely creative, irreverent and FUN creation; specifically ANGORA NAPKIN knows no bounds!


Angora Napkin not only exists in comic form, within the pages of the lovely hard cover graphic novel from IDW, but also the girl rock-band trio exists in bouncy toon form as well. If you have not had the pleasure of seeing this amazing spectacle, then it is now your chance to get out and catch it.


Molly, Mallory and Beatrice will grace the stage of the Arts Court Theatre October 15th at 11:30pm. I was fortunate to catch the initial screening of the Teletoon sponsored "pilot project" when Troy brought the gals to the Shanghai Restaurant in the spring. All I can say is that come hell or high water, get yer arses down town and your bottoms into the theatre seats to soak in the jovial pop rock candy that IS Angora Napkin. You won't be disappointed!

For the curious, check out my initial horn tooting here. If, like me, you are over-the-top with excitement, you can listen to CUB's "My Chinchilla" song on YouTube. (My Chinchilla is expertly animated in Troy Little's section of the Angora Napkin pilot. Beware--this will become and ear worm...) Here's a ukelele cover of My Chinchilla. CHINCHILLA!!

In Nick Cross' section of the pilot, the girls are animated beautifully to CUB's "Go Fish". Yeahp, you can listen to it here!

BUY the book! Get 'er signed! Read, enjoy, repeat...

Later..
Ok I went trolling: you can watch a quickie preview of AN here!
Enjoy >^_^<

NAPKIN! NAPKIN! NAPKIN! (Angora that is!)

If you haven't heard of the genius of Angora Napkin and the fellows who carved them out of putty and blew soft bubble gum flavoured breath into them; then where ya been?

Born out of the mania that only comes with steady work drawing kiddy cartoons and fuzzy bunnies, Troy Little and Nick Cross decided there had to be something better, something bigger than all of this. Thus, after splitting another metaphor with a simile, they cracked each others' skulls and drew forth Molly, Mallory and Beatrice.

After creating a gigantic, very cool pile of back story, promo material, designs, boards and scripts the project ended up shelved. Yeah! WTF?? What knob thought an Angora Napkin was something you'd slide between tender, supple thighs? In any case, our bubble-gum girl trio languished, almost forgotten, until Troy went to Rainbow Valley and fell in the Cotton Candy machine.
Inspiration!
Determination!
Something exploded in his tangled brain; igniting neurons that had been wrapped up all too darkly with his Xeric award winning comic Chiaroscuro. Cotton Candy. Squealing children. Puppies.

ANGORA NAPKIN!

Troy hustled home the long way, barely getting the unicycle parked on the roof where it belonged, and pulled Angora Napkin out from under the cubby where the project had been sleeping. AHA he cried, and with a manic flourish, brought the trio to a black and white half-life in comic form. Well, half-life was better than no life at all; and the comic world was finally introduced to Mallory, Beatrice and Molly as a back story in an issue of critically acclaimed comic, Chiaroscuro.


Short story long, Nick Cross, (co-creator of beloved AN) and Troy Little, won the chance to create a pilot on Teletoon and knew that this was the full-colour, bouncy fun, animated dream they'd been wishing for all their lives, and had only realized it then! Angora Napkin would live! Meanwhile, at the same time, Angora Napkin's first hard cover graphic novel exploded on the scene via IDW Publishing (yes, the same company that, after reading a glowing commendation from Dave Sim about Troy Little's Chiaroscuro, decided to check it out, were suitably impressed, and published the ground breaking work in hard cover!)


Things were moving quickly; almost too quickly! Could Dolphin Boy be voiced by anyone other than Cory Perkins? Would the whirling interstitial really connect two disparate worlds? Would PETA finally track down Beatrice's chinchilla and crown it monarch of a small Lanark County Kingdom? Did I take this job just to make a quick buck? We may never know the answers to any of these questions... but I believe it may have happened something like this...

All that being said, the graphic novel rippled like a full scoop of Cherry Garcia dropped into a molten cup of maple syrup. People weren't just talking, they were screaming: NAPKIN! NAPKIN! NAPKIN! The screening of the pilot in Ottawa's trendy Shanghai Restaurant earlier in the month had a similar reaction. Folks were floored! There was nothing remotely like this on TV anywhere. It was tight, well written, bouncy, fun and the timing was remarkable. And the Canadian content! Who can argue with close to 43 actual references made of our beloved country?*

Beatrice, Molly and Mallory weren't destined for the forgotten scrapheap of other animated girl bands and their small rodential pets. They were destined for greatness! With CUB backing the animated show musically (even after THEY had broken up--!) nothing could stand in their way.


If you are still scratching your head, check out the pilot's teaser on the Angora Napkin site. If you really want to get your feet wet, head on over to Troy Little's Meanwhile Studios site and order a signed hardcover graphic novel for yourself. With an artful intro by John K., you will not regret picking this thing up! It has an amazing combination of energy, fun and beautiful artwork. The spot colour makes it feel like it is fully rendered believe it or not. Amazing what a bit o' blue can do. Don't just take my word for it--see what others have to say >^_^<


If you are not scratching your head and are already a fan, SPREAD THE WOID. The only way this is going to get made is for us all to jump up and down and go: NAPKIN! NAPKIN! NAPKIN! until someone blows a gasket. For what it is worth, I hear by grant permission for this entire post (or portions thereof) to be reprinted in any format, electronic or hand made, for the purpose of promoting Angora Napkin in any way, shape or form.

Now go.
Do it!

*for the actual list, please harass Trick and Noy
"The Animator" painted by Kristy Gordon
All Angora Napkin images (c)2009 Troy Little & Nick Cross.

"Hide Your Life Away"

Hello believers, and the morbidly curious :-) No, I ain't dead; at least not from the neck up. Facebook, Scrabulous and Hasbro are in a peeing contest, so now I have nothing left to occupy my small pieces of free time at lunch (at work).

So, I thought: should write on that damned Blog sometime, or it'll get cancelled! Yoiks :-O

So today, I am plugging Carol Little's debut novel "Hide Your Life Away". Actually, you can check out a for 'rizzle quote by yours truly if you hop on over to her writer's blog (at least for the next little while...then it'll get replaced by someone more famous..like say, Lorne Elliott *grin*).

I had the pleasure of reading Carol's work about a month ago and truly enjoyed it. She wrote it at the same time as I was writing "La Tierra del Meurto", during the 3-Day Novel Contest last Labour Day Weekend. The only difference being, her book is actually finished and mine is still languishing in a box in my basement. Oh, and her book is funnier than mine. My book isn't that funny. Although there is an adequate amount of shed blood and crazy characters in both, I think.

I was actually considering signing on for another round of the 3-Day Novel Contest this year. I have the envelope and cheque in my bag. Then I talked to my Mom. (Who is eternally practical--the quintessential Virgo!) Mom said "Why don't you take that weekend and finish the manuscript you started last year?" Perfect sense, no? Well, the envelope is still in the old bag..and you know what? I think I will take that time and do my own 3-Day Novel Contest.. 'cept it'll be more like Finishing Last Year's 3-Day Novel Contest instead :-)

But enough about my old hoss; which I will beat for 3 or 4 days this September. Let's talk about a hoss to bet on! Speaking of horses, that reminds me of Charles Bukowski, the best combination of poet and horse aficionado you can get. For those not familiar with Uncle Buk, here's a wee poem. (Special thanks to T. Anders Carson for initially turning me on to Bukowski btw..)

No. 6

I'll settle for the 6 horse
on a rainy afternoon
a paper cup of coffee
in my hand
a little way to go,
the wind twirling out
small wrens from
the upper grandstand roof,
the jocks coming out
for a middle race
silent
and the easy rain making
everything
at once
almost alike,
the horses at peace with
each other
before the drunken war
and I am under the grandstand
feeling for
cigarettes
settling for coffee,
then the horses walk by
taking their little men
away-
it is funeral and graceful
and glad
like the opening
of flowers.

"Hide Your Life Away" is as gritty as a the bottom of Tom Waits' shoes, with situations that are mildly improbable in the way one knows Star Trek ships have been vacuumed to a 'T' but one never actually sees them being cleaned. Little works the mechanics behind the story with artful ease, not showing her sleeves and not making the machinery creak.

The dialogue (and this book is dialogue heavy) is pert, funny, real, not over-the-brow high-and-mighty, and wry. Someone said of the book that it would make a great play, and with the spare backgrounds and flavourful dialogue, fun, crazy and yes even some achingly normal characters peppering it like cloves in a pot-pourri, I totally believe it would translate well to the stage.

Although the pace is not overly quick-moving, the book itself is. The pages flew under my fingertips as I tasted the greasy food, stale cigarettes and embedded roofing nails firsthand. That's what you get for escaping to the roof of one's shed with a bucket of KFC, a packet of Belmont Milds and a few loose nails to play with I guess.

Little casts her strings open and reels in the nets; she wraps the story neatly, pulling it all together to form a fantastic web that glitters and entices and ultimately delivers a satisfying conclusion.

You can pre-order "Hide Your Life Away" on Amazon.com, you can check out excerpts, see snippets of fun info on Carol's blog or join the Facebook Group "Hide Your Life Away by Carol Little". It is a refreshing work that is especially appealing in a time when news-bits, blogs, two penny articles per click and headlined magazine articles no one reads are the alternative. It stands out and is immediately appealing: the characters are kids in our time, the book is short but punchy and tastes as good as it sounds.

For a bit on Carol's scholarly background, read the fresh article in Carleton University's The Charlatan!

Forthcoming from Meanwhilestudos.com this September 23rd!
Editor: Lisa Cole
Cover photography: Shayli Vere
Cover model: Nathan Wiley
Graphics and layout: Troy Little.
Publisher: Meanwhile Studios; First edition
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0973997117
ISBN-13: 978-0973997118

Second Week

Apparently according to the NaNoWriMo website, it's the official beginning of Week II of the challenge. My stats are a little over 14,000 words, so that's good. Now all I need is a plot..haha! No seriously, things are going ok. I've introduced my main character, set her in her setting and have peopled her environs with a few cool characters to help her on her way. I have a vague idea of where I want this to go, but so far I'm reliving my old University days. That's fine, I'm sure it'll all work out in the end (I hope.)

Now, I must go and get me some shoes. My sneakers accrued a hole. Which is not good, not when I start my new job in less than three weeks.

More to come. And to all of those who struggle under the burden (or blessing) of creativity... good luck!
Cheers
Suzanne.

PS--If you have the means, get your butt PEI bound for November 9th! It's the official launch of "Chiaroscuro" by Troy Little and IDW Publishing. It should be a fun time. I am very disappointed that I can't attend... :-(

Take the plunge

You know you want to.

You've been aching, your fingers vibrating with the creative need to DRAW. But, you've put it off. Your boring job saps all your strength. Or even your moderately not-so-boring job takes up so much of your energy, when you get home (or hell, if you're working from home) you just don't have it in you to.. draw..

Scott McCloud came up with a nifty device over a decade ago (August 31st, 1990), called The Dare. In this Dare, he challenged a compatriot, Steve Bissette, to draw for 24 hours straight, one page an hour, until by the time he was done, this fella would have a complete comic, written, penciled and inked in his hands. That's all it took. From that wonderful, inspired idea, the 24-Hour Comic has spread like fruit flies on a squishy mango, in other words, FAST and with much sucking of tasty, sticky juice! To check out more information on The Dare and to read McCloud's first 24-hour comic, check ze links!

No writer or artist's block can withstand the energy or will that exists in the sweat of someone working on a project for 24 hours straight. Take it from someone who has braved that valley of darkness three times and come out alive... blind, exhausted, hallucinating, but alive! Below, are panels from my first attempts: "Good Medicine/ Bad Medicine", "The Wyrm's Treasure" and "SnowBlonde" (you can read the last two in their entirety on my website, thanks to the continuing web genius of Carol Busato.)

"Good Medicine/ Bad Medicine"

"The Wyrm's Treasure"

"SnowBlonde"


If you're interested in reading more 24-hour comics, you can order them online from Amazon, or via the 24-Hour Comics Day site which has tons of info on the event! You can also order two of Troy Little's 24-hour comics directly from him at Meanwhile Studios ("Smoked Fish" and "Inanimation".)

Come October 20th, 2007, the entire world will host hundreds of mad, creative folks in various locales, drawing maniacally away and creating something from nuthin'! I was interested in joining the fun, but realized it would come very close to overlapping my business trip to Abbey Hill Design in Callander (near North Bay.) I heard that Hairy Tarantula in Toronto was going to host it, but thought the additional drive and then no sleep, then driving HOME would probably kill me. I looked for something closer to Ottawa and realized there was nothing.

NOTHING.

No 24-Hour Comics Day event in ANY Nation's Capital comic book stores to encourage artists to create masterpieces on trestle tables, between multicoloured rows of comics. No fervent prophets of art and story, drawing throngs of the interested public through the doors to bring lucre to the tills. No store was signed up to host. So I thought to myself, "Self," (sfx of Arlo Guthrie talking) "Yup?" "Why dontcha host an event yerself?" "Sounds like a great idea. Then I won't end up in flames somewhere near Belleville on the way home from the stint in TO!" "Sounds like a plan." "AND I would get to see all of my comic and animation buddies whom I haven't seen in a donkey's year." "Is that an African or European donkey?"

And so on.

The 24-Hour Comics Day site has wonderful resources (like this FAQ) for hosting the DAY and I have downloaded lots of 'em. DragonHead Studio is officially on the boards at their site, and the fun starts at noon, October 20th, 2007 at yours truly. There is a Facebook Group set up for it, as well as an "Event" that you can request an invitation to.

As it stands, I have a possibility of 7 people turning up, which looks great! There is room for 5 -7 more, so if you are in the Ottawa/ Kanata area and you're keen to draw and you'd like to play with my animals and sit on my deck sipping Rev or what-have-you, drop me a line!

You know you want to.
That leetle voice you spend all day ignoring and the entire drive home from your job trying to feint left and right as its siren susurrus pleading whisper darts from ear to ear... Listen to it. Next time you're about to crank "Sam's Town", take a minute to really listen to what the Killers are saying; don't just let the sound wash over you.

"...I've got this energy beneath my feet
like something underground's gonna come up and carry me,
I've got this sentimental heart that beats
but I don't really mind that it's starting to get to me now..."

Call, write, email (blackcomet666@yahoo.ca) or sign up on the Facebook Group and pester me. You have 'til October 6th to get your name in! It's going to be fun!

Cheers,
Suzanne.