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There are a million things I could say, and a million way to say them, but at the…

04/01/2014

There are a mil­lion things I could say, and a mil­lion way to say them, but at the end of the day it boils down to this: Bliss deserves this.

We all have had that moment where we wish would could have done some­thing, taken that step for­ward to make things bet­ter. She has that chance now. 

Were I able I would give every­thing I could. She's good peo­ple, good writer, good per­son and a good friend. 

So help some­one out, pay it for­ward… it does work. 

Okay, I'm ram­bling…

Reshared post from +Bliss Mor­gan
#Send­B­liss­Not­Bombs  is now LIVE on +Indiegogo !

I'm going to Oxford for a Sum­mer Pro­gram in July - but I need help, because my finan­cial aid only cov­ered fall and spring semes­ters. I'm run­ning an IndieGoGo cam­paign to cover half the cost of the trip includ­ing reg­is­tra­tion, trans­fer fees, flight, room, and board - and I've got a lot of awe­some perks to offer, includ­ing art, ebooks, pot­tery, and one par­tic­u­larly epic piece of gamer swag. Go check it out!

And if you think of some­thing awe­some I should be offer­ing as a perk? Def­i­nitely let me know. :)

Send Bliss Not Bombs
I have an oppor­tu­nity to spend a month-​​long sum­mer semes­ter at Oxford!

Garden Wars!

03/31/2014

20140330_091857

So some of you have seen this already but aren't sure what it means. The short ver­sion is this, in 2012 I started writ­ing a weekly ser­ial called Gar­den Wars that was inspired in no small part by one Bliss Mor­gan. It started as a way to get an image out of my head an blos­somed into some­thing more. I man­aged to get 12 episodes writ­ten and posted, and then I got very sick and had to step away for a while.

Dur­ing that time I tried a num­ber of times to get other aspects of the idea going (graphic novel, card game, etc…) but never quite man­aged to get them off the ground.

This year I am finally in a place I can pick stuff up again and reached out to a friend of mine (who I really should have thought of ear­lier) to help out. He agreed and started work­ing on the designs for the comic! ::cheer::

Yes, that's the short version.

That friend is Peter Faria. I've know Pete for almost 20 years and he's a really nice guy, even if he's a lit­tle 'off'. (Are you sur­prised that a friend of mine isn't nor­mal ;) He has the orig­i­nal sto­ries and the script I did for the first page of the comic and is work­ing on the char­ac­ter designs.

I will admit that cre­at­ing those designs is hard. Not because he's not tal­ented but because I went out of my way in the sto­ries not to actu­ally describe any of the char­ac­ters. Yes, their names are reflec­tive of some aspect of their per­son­al­ity, but their phys­i­cal descrip­tion isn't there. That was on pur­pose because I wanted peo­ple to cre­ate their own visions of what they looked like.

Yes, I essen­tially shot my self in the foot. But I'm not going to change that. If it means more iter­a­tions and work to get them right, so be it.

I'm going to start post­ing updates to the work pub­licly. Sketches and what-​​not that Peter is okay with putting up, I will. Progress on the comic and sto­ries will be posted when they happen.

Basi­cally what I'm doing is shar­ing the process with the world rather than bot­tle it up and build it in secret and then launch it. Cre­ativ­ity is meant to be shared and doing with oth­ers, not in a locked room hid­den from pry­ing eyes.

The plan is to turn the prose bit it into a reg­u­lar ser­ial again, after I re-​​write the episodes I already have (and add in a cou­ple that are needed). That might take a lit­tle longer than planned because my edi­tor is now very sick and in the hos­pi­tal. I don't know when she will be avail­able again, but that's a story for a dif­fer­ent time.

Each 'ser­ial' will be put together and put on Amazon/B&N/Where ever. Each one will be about 20K words. How­ever, as each bit is fin­ished and ready I will post them. Which means that if you want, you can read the story before it gets published.

As progress is made on the comic I will post that. As each 'page' is com­plete.… you guessed it. I will post it. When each 'issue' is done that will get put up on Amazon/B&N/where-ever as well.

So, feed­back, sug­ges­tions and com­ments welcome.

Fantastic

03/26/2014




Absolutely fan­tas­tic. And the cap­ture the imag­i­na­tion that those of us that grew up with the orig­i­nal tril­ogy had when pre­tend­ing.

I for one very much remem­ber rid­ing my bike with a mask of var­i­ous sorts pre­tend­ing to be a Speeder Bike pilot.

Reshared post from +Rebel Squadrons
Craig Davison's Star Wars-​​inspired art­work keeps grow­ing and grow­ing. We included the whole series here, so you'll prob­a­bly catch a few you're famil­iar with, but over half are new.

(via http://www.craigdavisonart.com/)

#star­wars #star­warsart #rebel­squadrons 

Daily Musings: Chef to the Gods

03/25/2014


Been a while since I did one of these.  Enjoy!

Atu­lia pat­ted the human on the head roughly, "You did well today Gabriel. Go to bed and sleep well. I will most likely kill you in the morn­ing."

Gabriel padded off toward his room. His shoul­der hunched from the days labor of prepar­ing sev­eral meals for sev­eral hun­dred Gods. He had long since got­ten over his revul­sion at the types of foods he had to pre­pare. Every­thing from humans stuffed with var­i­ous fruits to the skins of minor Gods full of wine and small crea­tures that had drowned and mar­i­nated in the mix of wine and God blood.

As he made his way through his door he shrugged off the cloak he wore and col­lapsed into the only chair in the room. His room was very sparse, only a chair, bed and a table. He had only two cloaks and 2 pairs of shoes. Though he never wore the shoes any­more.

He relaxed his body and let the aches and thoughts of the day drain away from him. He no longer wor­ried about whether or not he would die tomor­row since he knew he would. It was only a ques­tion of who would kill him and how. In the last three days he had been drowned in honey, blinked from exis­tence, ren­dered limb from limb, had his very being dis­solved into atoms, and  tossed into the heart of the Sun. Each time by a dif­fer­ent God who had got­ten bored or was unhappy with the way Gabriel had pre­pared their favorite meal. And each time res­ur­rected by his mas­ter to serve another day and sent away with the threat of con­tin­ued tor­ture tomor­row.

He glanced at the mark­ings on the wall oppo­site his chair and silently counted to him­self. When he fin­ished he got up, took a stone from the table and made another mark on the wall in line with the oth­ers.

It had been three hun­dred and sixty two days since he had come to be the Chef to the Gods. 

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