If you’ve met me, know me, or read my bio, you know I like comics.
No, I love comics.
Always have, always will. Reading comics is one of those niche hobbies that you can forget about kicking after age 21. By then, you’re in for life. Read or bleed.
So of course, I’ve always wanted to write comics. I’ll be honest here, building a platform to enter the industry is why I started doing prose. While my love of prose is now its own reward, I’ll never let go of the hope of one day seeing my name etched in inked pencil.
Webcomic or print, indie or DC (I guess I could also settle for Marvel), someday it’ll happen. For now, here’s the beginning of a graphic novel I started around six years ago. I mean, hey, I have a blog, a have the means, I even have an audience of two…might as well try to see where the story takes me.
And yes, the title’s lame.
PANEL ONE–We meet Addy Pearson in all her pregnant glory. She’s on the floor, obviously in distress. One hand is clutching a bloody knife, the other is holding her bleeding stomach.
PANEL TWO–We’re now in closer. We can’t see her stomach, but we can see her horrified face staring down at it, and we can see what looks like tiny fingers rising from the bottom of the panel.
PANEL THREE–Birdeyed view. We’re looking from the top of her head. Addy is now lifeless. From her stomach, we see the silhoutee of a tiny baby rising from her split womb. We see its eyes and its outline. This shot should look sinister.
Caption: Two people…one a psychic…
PANEL FOUR–We meet Kronal in the park. He has the look of a classic greek god–square jaw, strong features, greying beard. He’s sitting on a bench, watching a couple of mallards eat at some bread. Maybe at the corner of the page we see the makings of a shadowy figure.
Caption: …one a time traveller who can move faster than light
PANEL FIVE–Closeup of his face. His mouth is gaping and there’s blood spraying from it. Maybe we can have it splatter the panel.
Caption: …and neither one saw it coming.
Caption: Mom, you deserved better.
PANEL SIX–Kronal is sitting lifeless on the bench, his head bowed. There’s a gaping hole in his chest. Instead of eating bread, the ducks are now pecking at Kronal’s heart.
Caption: Dad, you should’ve stayed dead the first time.