Story Boarding

Here are the first 16 pages. I'm inserting new pages of alien dialog into the previously posted 35 pages. It breaks up the talking head monotony only a wee bit.

I've tried a dozen different ways to break out of talking head format and failed. My creation is a wordy philosophical rumination and wordiness comes with the territory. Giving visual cues to who is ruminating requires me to draw heads. Many of them.

So, I'm back to my original ambition: draw those talking heads with pizzazz and verve. As I've edited the pages pictured above they've become rather sketchy and unsuitable for re-posting "as is" on the other blog for First Readers.

This creates another puzzle. When I introduce the alien narrators I'm afraid they'll be viewed as unwelcome kitsch unless I present the pages in full color and with full character development (model sheets). I'm constantly challenged to prevent the rough draft drawings detracting from story development.

If I buy the software and tablet for digital rendering now that'll require weeks if not months of learning new techie stuff which will distract from my current task: posting the rough draft for First Reader evaluation.

This poses a ton of new problems. 

How polished do I make the rough draft for public evaluation?
How long will it take to polish the first 35 pages?
Do I keep my original plan and print the Publisher pages of word balloons on card stock for pencil/ink line drawings to then be digitally colored?
Or do I try to learn how to draw them digitally?
If digitally, will the new software allow me to import 250 pages of Publisher?
If not, must I print and re-scan each page?
Once polished will First Readers subconsciously expect the remaining 200 pages of rough draft to look as polished?

One definition of creativity: throw yourself into a quagmire of complexity and then try to fight your way out.

Back to my Roots

It's been difficult to focus on my graphic novel this summer. Warm weather, yard work, family activities, and other sundry interests have conspired to reduce the frequency of blog postings. In addition, cranking out rough draft pages has slowed to a snail's pace. Revamping much of the premise of the work (alien narrators) hasn't helped, either. With the end of summer approaching it's time to gear up again for the delightful work of writing and drawing. For inspiration I'm rereading Ecclesiastes. Here are some random musings from chapters 1-7:

"Everything is meaningless" (1:2). I don't entirely agree with this statement; I find meaning in  friendships, family connections, learning, reading, helping people in my mediation/counseling practice, and more. But I am grateful Dr. Q was courageous enough to acknowledge that some things clearly are absurd. For starters, I'm the one with a misspent youth yet my virtuous wife is the one who contracts a debilitating disease. Absurd, absurd, absurd.

"Generations come and generations go" (1:4). The specter of death has haunted humanity since the beginning of time. For all the disagreement about the causes and consequences of death, we're all agreed: the grim reaper will devour all of us eventually. Even though life spans have lengthened considerably, we're all going to die. No wonder Ecclesiastes hasn't become a best seller.

"The eye never has enough of seeing" (1:8). Imagine if this were not so--the demand for new TV shows, movies, web sties, books, vacations, tours, and fashions would vanish. But the eye is never satisfied and therefore new visual content is produced every second.

"The more knowledge the more grief" (1:18). The modern explosion of knowledge has been matched by an explosion of anxiety, depression, fear, worry, despair, angst, and ennui. I often remind myself of the persons described in the New Testament, "always learning and never coming to the knowledge of truth" and "those who desire to get rich pierce themselves with many a pang." My appetite for learning is insatiable but the outcome is questionable. I simply learn how ignorant I am.

"Laughter is foolish" (2:2). This line doesn't stop me from laughing or making others laugh. But Dr. Q's point is well taken: at the end of the day is frivolity the best way to spend one's energy?

"What do I gain by being wise?" (2:15). For decades I've done my best to apply Hebraic and Christian wisdom to myself, family, and others. I'm happy to report that I, my family, and others have enjoyed many happy days. However, those happy days just as easily could be attributed to good luck, random events, the result of the law of large numbers, and the inevitable benefit of living in an affluent culture. The fact that wisdom has not been universally and predictably beneficial to one and all makes me question metaphysics. I like it that Dr. Q questions it as well.

"I must leave my things to the one who comes after me" (2:18). After my dad's death it was my unpleasant task to dispose of his belongings--tools, paintings, cameras, furniture, and more tools. The day of our auction was an Ecclesiastes day for me; people I never met drove off with glee at the tons of his belongs they got for a song; things my dad worked 80 years to collect, love, fix, clean, manage, move, store, and cherish. Makes me look at the cumber around my house--what stranger is gleefully going to drive off with my collection of volvelles, manuscripts, art work, and journals?

"Even at night his mind does not rest" (2:23). In a perfect universe we'd sleep through the night. Neither I nor Dr. Q live in a perfect universe.

"He has set eternity in the hearts of men" (3:11). Occam's Razor suggests positing a deity behind psychology is superfluous, cumbersome, and unnecessary. I know. I embrace Dr. Q's quote by faith, anyway. Logical positivists call such language poetry, unscientific, and invalid. I know. I embrace Dr. Q's affirmation by faith, anyway. New and old atheists call this belief superstitious. neanderthal, and hallucinatory. I know, I know. My passion for ethics, transcendence, and existential meaning could be a blip on my synaptic radar, a quirk of my DNA, and an unimaginative parroting of the culture I was born into. Okay, okay, I get it. But I choose to believe otherwise. I stand with Dr. Q (and several others) on this point.

"His friend can help him get up" (4:10). I'm astonished at how many cohabiting and married couples mess this up. Either one party is over accommodating or smothering, demanding or overly dependent, and they take turns being miserable. Key terms: pursuit, distancing, badgering, clamming up, aloof, preoccupied, lousy service, low tip, co created chaos. I am passionate about helping couples differentiate, get healthy, and merge lives in positive ways. Not, necessarily from a passion to "save marriage" or even to "reduce the divorce rates." I'm obsessed with this mission because we live in an enlightened, affluent, and educated world with MRIs, Mars probes, gene sequencing, SSRIs, smart phones, and Google, and yet 50% of couples still can't get happy together. What a puzzle!

"An old person is foolish if they no longer know how to take warning" (4:13). This cuts me to the quick because I'm warning averse. Not (I hope) because I'm stubborn, self righteous, or impervious to good advice. I'm simply inured to fear mongers, anxiety mongers, and cognitive distortion mongers who foster fear, worry, and panic. This is an age of anxiousness with warnings thick as flies. There's not a boy crying wolf; there's a whole media culture crying wolf. Lord, help me heed legitimate warnings, ignore stupid warnings, and know the difference.

"Stand in awe of God" (5:7). Fellow parishioners sing with passion, worship with enthusiasm, and  engage in church with fervency. I, however, merely stand during worship and sway several millimeters in each direction. I'm every worship leader's worst nightmare. I do not clap, belt out, chant, chirp, croon, harmonize, intone, lift up a voice, make melody, pipe, purr, resound, roar, serenade, shout, trill, troll, tune, vocalize, warble, whistle, or yodel. I do hum from time to time, however. 

"Who knows what is good for a person in life during their few and meaningless days?" (6:12). Answer? Fundamentalist preachers, paternalistic politicians, imperative control freaks, dogmatic pontificates, and advertisers. Other than that we're pretty much a live and let live society. 

"It is better to go to a house of mourning than a house of feasting" (7:2). In September we mark the one year anniversary of my dear wife's move into a nursing home. My daily visits are still emotional roller coaster rides for me. The infirm, ailing, and frail elderly are clear reminders of aging and death. I'm quickly disabused of imagining immortality on earth. Metaphors of mortality--smoke, grass, shadows--inspire wise and fruitful living. He who dies with the most love wins. 

"The end of a matter is better than its beginning" (7:8). Another reminder to keep chipping away at this project. It is, with several other endeavors, my life's work.

To be continued.

Creativity

If I was offered a creativity pill which would make me automatically and fabulously creative (inventive, athletic, or brainy), I’d contemplate taking that pill for five seconds. During those five seconds I’d fantasize about the praise I’d receive for being the world’s best artist/writer (inventor, ping pong player, genius). But after that brief reverie reality would set in. Such a pill would NOT garner praise; people would say, “He’s no great shakes; he just took a pill.” 

Furthermore, such a pill would rob me of the joy of focus. When I’m creating I’m hyper-focused and alert to ways to mold my creation into the perfect image I've got in my head. I collect drawings, jokes, anecdotes, quotes, and ideas that I believe will improve my creation. It’s fun! 

And finally, it’s not necessarily the finished product that drives creativity. It’s the process. It’s the evolution. It’s the improvement. That pill would enable me to create a perfect work of art (science, physical legerdemain, or theorem) immediately. Where’s the fun in that?

Paradoxically, inner demons sabotage my creative urge. The delirium of joy I experience when creating is buggered by delay, stalling, postponement, avoidance, and distraction. The demons responsible for this are 

1) Kierkegaard’s “purity of heart is to will one thing.” My brain wills one hundred things and sustained focus is difficult. 

2) Darwin’s “survival of the fittest.” Random mutations (new ideas) alter the evolution of my creation and the vestigial organs (old ideas) put up a terrible fuss. 

3) Heisenberg’s “uncertainty principle.” I get flooded with energies that pop in and out of existence and choosing which wave/particle to nab is somewhat arbitrary. I suffer from paralysis of analysis.

And yet, the creative urge propels me. Twenty years ago who would have dreamed of today’s new and exciting creations? Today is the day to write/draw/create that thing undreamed of by people twenty years hence.

In Other News

Postings in August decreased for two reasons both of which form the subplot of this blog. 1) waning interest, 2) distraction.

Maintaining intense focus is my goal, having spent 60 years somewhat scattered in my interests. My trail of "un-dones" is testimony to my propensity for waning interest. This baffles me. I wish I knew why I find it so hard to stick to projects. Does the synaptic magnetism wear off? Is there a pill I can take to increase synaptic stickiness? Do I blame boredom on bad chemicals or bad character?

Getting distracted could be explained as follows: a brain gets pulled away from current projects by new projects with stronger magnetic pull. In August I've been distracted by selling a piano, pulling weeds, home repairs, visiting Vicki in her tragic decline, gearing up to sell this house, schmoozing with my guy pals, reading adrenaline pumping books (Righteous Mind, Fooled by Randomness, Thinking Fast and Slow, The Happiness Hypothesis, Platform, The Christian Agnostic, The Examined Life [by an author new to me, Robert Nozick], Screwtape Letters), watching a TV series on DVD my son the cop recommended, and mediating conflicts for clients.

To regain focus I've got two options: remove the distractions (decrease their magnetism), or re-ignite interest (by increasing the magnetism of current projects). If I could figure out how to do this I'd win a Nobel Prize. I once vowed to quit buying new books to "force" myself to finish the ones I had, I cancelled my New Yorker subscription, and tried to starve myself of new thoughts thus requiring me to relish the old ones. I failed.

Even now, I'm drawn to mow my lawn in the cool of the morning since 90 degree weather is  predicted during which time mowing a lawn will be difficult. Life gets in the way of projects. Which is a conundrum of Ecclesiastes proportions. Repetition, dissatisfaction, competing desires, boredom,   and the ebb and flow of changing interests are great mysteries.

I Dreamed of a Narrator for Ecclesiastes University

Once I hit the pause button to rethink the structure of this book my conscious mind went numb, "How do I integrate the helpful comments from my first readers without starting from scratch?" Thankfully, my subconscious mind did not quit working. 

I dreamed I invented a narrator, a new main character, who spoke in the first person to a therapist about his depression. He showed the therapist his “notes” which were the comic strip pages already drawn. I drew the narrator's thumb on the right side of the pages holding the comic book for his therapist to read. I also inserted snap shot drawings of the students like when someone takes a photo in a movie and the picture freezes and turns momentarily to black and white. I was freed from strict linearity and could time travel with ease. It was quite liberating, actually.

This dream was also disconcerting because I was trying to do math in my sleep…how can I add pages/panels with as little re-editing as possible? Each day lecture needs an even number of pages, and I CAN’T disassemble each Publisher Page and relocate the existing word balloons. 

Random Thoughts about Narration

Currently, there is no narrator. Readers listen in on the images/dialog that some unnamed person (the cartoonist) provides. An invisible entity chooses camera angles, what to leave out between panels, who says what, etc. I think this is what tires readers. They are borne along with little time to breathe during the journey. A narrator would (if my dream was correct) assist readers in plot.

A narrator talking to a therapist is too 1960s and Woody Allen-ish.

Who was the narrator is Metamorphosis? "As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect-like creature."

Are narrators omniscient? They must be in order to convey the plot to the audience. Wiki says, 

"The narrator may be a fictive person devised by the author as a stand-alone entity, or may even be a character. The narrator is considered participant if an actual character in the story, and nonparticipant if only an implied character, or a sort of omniscient or semi-omniscient being who does not take part in the story but only relates it to the audience."

I need a narrator who is not enveloped by Dr. Q's philosophical musings. 

Some narrator options

• a demon “taking photos” of each character rooting for skepticism, doubt, atheism, and/or nihilism to take over. 
• an angel “taking photos” rooting for faith/hope/love to take over.
• a hapless student (not me) musing about depression
• a hapless student (me) musing about depression
• God
• Fly on the wall
• Alien
• Solomon

The narrator could “reflect” at the end of each day’s lecture/riffs. If the joke was stupid he could say so. His “stance” would be objective. Unlike the students who whine about Dr. Q’s repetition and gloominess, the objective narrator could respond logically and clearly, without emotion.

Narrators narrate, but to whom is my narrator speaking? Readers, of course, but are the panels then supportive documentation for his monologue? If so, fine. But how then do I segue into the classroom pages? In other words, what is the narrator saying that would lead him to “show” students talking? 

I'm wary of adopting a Screwtape plot; Lewis gets the credit for that bit of brilliance. Plus, I don’t want to bludgeon readers with supernatural-ism, demonic or otherwise.  

Do omniscient narrators ever show emotion?

Voice-over while images zoom in from outer space into classroom (thanks, Google maps).

Given the fact that 428 Publisher pages have been set up with thousands of dialog boxes tediously put in place and filled with correct font and text, I can’t have the narrator insert his (her, its) voice into an individual page. He/she/it can only speak before and after each day. 

But this poses another huge problem….what possibly can the narrator say that would fill up an entire page? 

I could invent a new student whom the narrator watches outside of class and makes comments about….or the narrator could observe and make comments about all the students. Perhaps the narrator could comment on several of the characters between classes. I can almost visualize a second “plot” outside of the classroom.

Does the narrator have access to the character’s mind? I the cartoonist have access to the classroom lecture complete with sound and visuals. I’m enabling viewers to eavesdrop on a classroom. I do not have access into the psyche of any student (other than any conclusions we draw from attire, vocabulary, reactions, etc). Perhaps an omniscient narrator would know what students are thinking.

Does the narrator observe Dr. Q between classes? That would be fun speculation but I’m afraid I'd contaminate the pure text of Eccl with fiction.  My main characters are the students who listen and react to Dr. Q’s lecture.

A narrator could make the narrative flow more explicit. He/she/it could turn those talking heads into real persons with whom the audience could (hopefully) relate. The narrator would "model" for readers curiosity, interest, tedium, astonishment, empathy, etc.

The narrator could show the pictures and biography of each student like Base Ball Cards.

Narrator in the tone of Rod Serling: “Observe one Karenoia, plagued by OCD, and anxiety- reducing rituals. She thought her life was manageable ... until she entered Ecclesiastes University [the Twilight Zone].” 

The narrator could end each of his/her/its comments with, “Day one.” But 50 times? Yikes. Perhaps I could reduce the number of days/lectures by combining them (stretching same color over many pages).     

ALIEN DIALOG

Setting: inside space ship

Characters: two aliens, father and son

Plot: son taking dad on outing for bonding (dad agreed to let son chose the activity)

What planet are they from?

How old are they?

How’d the son know so much about earth?

How could this ever be turned into a stage play? 

Depression, circa 1979

It appears from this cartoon dated 12/79 and published in a student newspaper that I was depressed when I was a student at the UW.

According to IMDb, Star Trek: The Motion Picture came out on Dec. 7, 1979. I probably drew this comic strip over Christmas break when I had no homework. In hind site I had no grounds for depression. I was happily married, happily employed as a youth pastor, and happily selling cartoons to Leadership Journal and the Saturday Evening Post. What was so depressing? The relentless clash between my fundamentalist mind and secular university. Other recollections of gloominess....

During a lecture by Ralph Nader I was this close (thumb and finger almost touching) to asking him, "What's the point of consumer protection and truth in advertising? We're all going up in flames eventually anyway."

In a rhetoric class wherein I presented a pro life position more students became pro choice after my talk than before. This was a blow to one immersed in a subculture (evangelicalism) where powers of persuasion were a badge of honor. A persuasive speaker I was not.

I held the door open for a female student once and she scolded me for being sexist, "I can open the damn door myself!" A puzzling comment to one who thought being polite was a virtue.

Despite my best attempts at my Francis Schaeffer, Josh McDowell, CS Lewis, Benard Ramm, and Norman Geisler inspired apologetic, profs and hapless fellow students unfortunate enough to fall within earshot remained impervious to my proselytizing. Since I didn't believe the message was at fault it could only have been my delivery, thus cause for shame and guilt.

In a public lecture earlier that year I asked Madelyn Murray O'Hare what hope atheism had to offer a guy like Woody Allen who was afraid to die. She told me, "He has to face it; he's going to die like all of us." Then for effect she ripped pages out of a Gideon Bible laughing maniacally and mocking God, "If you're real, please strike me dead for blasphemy." I never expected matters of faith to be popular, but an object of ridicule? My, my, my.

I have an armload of other drawings from that era [of talking heads by the way] but they're, well, too depressing to post.

Had I been acquainted with Dr. Q in those days I suspect I'd have enjoyed the camaraderie of a fellow ponderer, flummoxed theologian, and the acknowledgement of existential conundra and mystery. In Ecclesiastes University I'd like to do for today's depressed university students (if there are any left) what I wish somebody had done for me; validated the truth that fundamentalism isn't a coherent, air tight, black/white world view yet there is room for faith, theism, and hope.

Status Update

Thirty-five pages of rough draft number five have been posted on the other site for first readers to scan and comment upon. The feedback has been so helpful I've hit the pause button to rethink the whole premise of this graphic novel. 2000+ talking heads are just too boring. So what are my options?

Make the claim that the boredom is an intentional literary device to further illustrate the message of vanity, absurdity, and pointlessness. This is a bit disingenuous, like the guy who shoots his bow wildly and then draws targets around randomly shot arrows.

Scrap the whole thing and write a stage play or screen play. No more graphic novel? Ouch.

Scrap Ecclesiastes and go mow my lawn. And give up philosophical ruminations? Double ouch.

Reformat the whole thing:

• give students only 2 panels (delete the second row of 1-3 boxes) to riff on Dr. Q. This would essentially cut the book--and boredom--in half. Less is more, but that much less?
• enlarge the size of my printed hard copy thus giving me a larger drawing space in which to draw settings, props, action, etc. This would essentially render my existing 428 pages null and void...after all that work!
• put new words into Dr. Q's mouth; fictionalize him. This would make the finished product "based upon the book of Ecclesiastes" rather than "taking every word of the ancient text as is and seeing it crash against modern thinking."
• keep the format but reduce the number of characters. Theoretically I could cut the number of students in half, combining various traits into one. This would cut down the confusion of who's who but increase confusion about student motives. Currently each student represents one philosophical/emotional point of view. Blending them would make each character complex and self contradictory. Plus, I might get bored with the few students that remain. I like the variety of a huge cast of characters.
• press on hoping readers will eventually identify with the individual characters. This is risky because there is no glue currently keeping readers engaged. Even with spiffed up drawings I suspect the insipid dialog will be lethal. Death by word balloon.
• increase the wit and wisdom of student comments. When I read a really good book I hang on every word, dreading the end. I want it to keep on going. Here's where fantasy crashes against reality. I just don't have the synaptic chops to charm audiences like Steve Martin, Woody Allen, David Sedaris, Dave Barry, Mark Twain, Tina Fey, Robert Benchley, S J Pereleman, Bill Bryson, Daniel Gilbert, Soren Kierkegaard (he knocked 'em dead in Denmark), or (insert name here). 
• press on and hope to find readers with low expectations. Surely in a planet of 7 billion somebody, somewhere likes bad puns, angst overkill, and talking heads.
• abandon audience approval entirely and write the book I wish I had in college. In a later post I'll reproduce some cartoons I drew while at UW '79-'81.
• gamble my reputation on good drawings justifying boring text. This is a huge gamble and I'm notorious for losing gambles. Want proof? My closets are full of manuscripts, wheels, drawings and self published books that failed to garner audience interest. I killed a small forest trying to get traction as a purveyor of peace making comics, sapiential psychology, and mixed metaphors. 
• change my audience. Instead of modern college students perhaps I should aim to connect with fundamentalists. Ecclesiastes is in their book and my graphic novel would call attention to and validate its message. This, however, may prove the hardest sell of all because fundamentalists are disinclined to grapple with randomness, failed theodicies, and the puncturing of tidy systematic theology. Nobody likes to be told the king has no clothes or that Pollyanna providence is a myth. 

I have to leave for work soon so must end this problem solving musing. My inner optimist believes that there is an answer to this somewhere, I just haven't found it yet. I'll mull over these options and see which sticks.