Carburetors, Man - That's What Life is All About!

The great attorney Vincent LaGuardia Gambini once said, "You know, when you rebuild a carburetor, the first thing you do is you take the carburetor off the manifold? Supposing you skip the first step, and while you're replacing one of the jets, you accidentally drop the jet, it goes down the carburetor, rolls along the manifold, and goes into the head. You're fucked. You just learned the hard way that you gotta remove the carburetor first, right? So that's all that happened to me today. I learned the hard way. Actually, it was a good learning experience for me."



That pretty much sums up the past several months. I didn't really know what I was doing when I opened up the hood and started messing around with things, but I saw possibilities and just went for it. I'm not saying I regret it - not all of it anyway - but there are consequences to that learning style. I've got some parts I have to repair or replace in order to get back up and running reliably again, but I'll get there. Now I know where I'm going, and having this really great destination in mind is the best motivation to just keep at it, even when the wrench slips and leaves me with one more thing I have to deal with before I can sit back and call it a job well-done.

I guess this is my roundabout way of announcing that I'm not going to be staying in California much longer. I'm not saying I regret coming here, but it just turns out that it's not right for me after all. There are people I love here - friends who have stepped up and stuck by me and shared good times and hard times alike, but this isn't geographically where I need to be. I didn't end up finding a job, and the pace of life just doesn't agree with me in the long-term. I'm going back home. I miss my family and lifelong friends, I need to recover financially, and there are a few other things that'll agree quite nicely with a return to the east coast.

I can't tell you at this moment exactly when I'll be moving, but if I'm given my druthers, it'll be in about a month. There's a contract job I can do if I can get there, and a friend of mine is getting married, so both of those are motivating factors. There's more, but I'll wait until things are a little more certain before I elaborate. Suffice it to say that while I will miss the people I leave behind, I'm going to find it extremely hard to contain my excitement in the coming weeks, and I'm hoping to have some extraordinary things to share to balance out the recent negativity.

Not Working Just to Survive

Matt over at Comics Cavern said something to me today that really rattled me. I am certain that he meant nothing sinister by simply saying that he had no idea I wrote fiction, but it really made a few things hit home.

First of all, I DO write fiction, or at least, I did. In replying to Matt, I sent him links to the two-part story I wrote as supplemental material for my friend Shawn's last novel. After sharing the links, I re-read that story, and you know what? It's freaking good. Not only is it good, but I actually like it. Not only do I like it, but other people, whose opinions matter to me, like it. Why then, did I stop doing something I like and am good at?

The answer isn't easy, but it is simple: because I don't like it right now. Why don't I? That's not so simple. My hope is that this is just a temporary state of being brought on by ennui and general sick-of-it-allness with regard to how I'm currently earning my income. I've been working as an independent contractor, and the work I'm doing is just not stimulating. It's like endless homework assignments for the boring class I can barely stay awake for on the days I force myself to show up. It's not that it's difficult work - it's that sitting down to write used to be something I looked forward to. Now, I'd suddenly rather do the dishes or watch endless Three's Company reruns than compose sentences, so when the paying work is done, I'm so sick of writing that the novel doesn't get worked on. No PoetryAssignment entries are done. No PopBunker posts get done. This blog doesn't get updated.

In short - the joy is being unceremoniously sucked out of writing. This is a problem.

Problems, however, have solutions, and I refuse to accept that this solution is an empty set. I'm going to start right away applying for different jobs. I'll have to give up being able to set my own hours, leave when I want, and work from anywhere, but I still think it'll be a net gain.

This recession is a bitch. I feel compelled by it to say that I'm grateful to have any income at all, even though it breaks my heart to hear how many friends are saying the same thing as they spend day after day in jobs they hate. We are all grateful just to be able to survive. That is so far from okay that it's not even funny.

I will not be defeated by it though. You know what I did yesterday? I sat on a (really tiny) stool at Meltdown Comics and interviewed Scott Ian*.

I sat there, with a microphone up my shirt and hot lights on my face, talking about comic books with an honest to golly rock star so you know what? You're damn right I am not working just to survive. I've been invited back to Meltdown next week to join the guys on their podcast to talk about women in comic books.

I need more of this in my life. These things make me feel alive again. Last night, when Vito from Comics on Comics asked me how I felt about being on camera, I said, "not a problem," out loud while a hyperactive pogo-stick went off in my chest. Even though I was terrified enough to send a couple of spastic text-messages to Michael, who I knew wouldn't hold it against me later and gave me a calm shot of confidence in return, there was not a chance in hell that I wasn't going to see this through.

I can't express how truly grateful I am to have had that experience, and that's not obligatory gratitude to which I feel duty-bound to give lip-service so the Universe won't smite me. That's real thanks, for answering the question "why the hell am I here?" My mind, heart, and spirit have all taken a beating lately, and this chance to be among people who care about what I care about, who refuse to settle for mediocrity, and be not a spectator but a peer among them has re-lit my pilot light.



*For an in-depth report, video of the interview, and chance to win autographed copies of Lobo: Highway to Hell, keep an eye on PopBunker.net.

Who Needs Munny?

I recently found out about Munnys and decided I had to have one to inflict my will upon. Follow the link if you're not up to speed. I found a blank one for cheap on eBay, but having the Super Sculpey already on hand, coupled with more free time than I know what to do with, I decided to accost my little artist's dummy while I wait. I don't think he minded much. I think he's an old soul in a new life. In case you're interested, here goes Dummy of the Paradise, from beginning to end (I'm pretty sure clicking on the pictures will let you see them bigger):


1. Just a box of sculpting compound, a dummy, and some paint


2. Dummy now has a white face. This is the only colored compound I used.


3. Dummy now also has a helmet, which may or may not look familiar at this point.


4. Dummy is fully enveloped in compound.


5. Accessorize! Dummy Winslow now has a voicebox and a knife.


6. Add cape and lots of straps. Bake at 275 for 15 minutes. Tell roommates not to ask questions.


5. Paint! Next time, buy better quality paint. After several layers, Dummy Winslow is now ready to scream maniacally into the night and run off to find Phoenix.




I'm pretty happy with the way it turned out, especially for my very first sculpt of any kind since making pinch-pots in elementary school.
I was going for a cross between the Munny/cartoony look, with the mitten-hands, and something more like an action figure I guess. At any rate, I think I got the major elements of the character down and maybe the average 2nd grader would be impressed at my artistic prowess!

Things I learned:

1. Buy better paint.
2. Better yet, use pre-dyed compound, especially for capes, which are a pain in the ass to paint and paint around once baked.
3. You can, in fact, bake an artist's dummy without it catching fire (at least when it's wrapped in Super Sculpey)
4. Do not eat the Super Sculpey, and especially do not use it for making cake. Actually, I already knew that, but I was given that advice today nonetheless.
5. I need to make more of these. This was fun!

Note: Phantom of the Paradise, Winslow Leach, and Phoenix all belong to the people who... uh... legally own the rights. This is just a way for a bored fan to fill some long hours and is not intended to infringe upon anyone's legal whatsit.

Not Working Just To Survive

At this point, yes, I am a little bit afraid of jinxes, so I'm not going to come right out and say I got some promising leads on some proper writing work today, but I might have done so. Instead of talking about that and saying too much, other people deserve the spotlight today. I'm so lucky to be surrounded by these wonderfully talented people who pursue a higher calling than "just some job." Some of them, I've known since childhood. Some of them, I've only known a short while, or only know casually, or may not have met in person. Thanks to them, I know better than to settle for mediocrity.

Villains of the Day: My Creative Friends

A is for all of them, who inspire me to never give in.
B is for Betsy, who dances and spins.
C is for Carrie who writes of vampires and sins.
D is for Dennis who knows all about dreams
E is for Elwood, who proves toys are not merely what they seem.
F is for Finding something for this line to say
G is for Greg, who makes art out of clay
H is for Heather ('cause it's all about me)
I am now thinking this is harder than it should be
J is for Jeri whose books thrill and amaze
K is for Keith, everyone's favorite DJ
L is for Lisa who does it all with such grace
M is for Mikey, in shows and in plays
M is also Melissa who runs, writes, and designs
N is for Nins, best roommate one could find.
O is Overestimating my talent for rhyme
P is for Patrick, who loves a good game
R is Really making this poem lame.
S is for Stacey, Samantha, and Scott
T is for Tim, the most ecclectic friend I've got
U is for Unsect, and guitar hero Chris
V is for Versus the Universe, more musical bliss
W is Wishing I'd thought this through before starting
X is the spot where my head's really hurting
Y is for You, who read this whole post
Z is for Zach, drummer with the most (and a theremin).

To reward you for suffering through that, you get the only Star Wars prequel video I'll ever post, and only because it's... well... it's something: