Just because we ran silent doesn't mean we were dead in the water. 

Avery became SAN HANNIBAL, a neon noir in five chapters, and you can read it starting... 


Campaign Under Reconstruction


So we've been working rather a lot, the two of us. I've written enough words to be repurposed as a proper paperback novel, and JD... well, JD's drawn more pages than 90% of anyone who reads this sentence. Things rusted are turning again, and that shower of oxidized iron flakes is a remedial baptism, baby. Schkade and Smith versus the Future. I think we can take him. 

This fall, you know who you're voting for?


The cruel and hungry Voice From Nowhere

Light hits matter and what's left is an absence, a non-entity, which we call a shadow. It's a thing that exists only in our minds, and it collects our fears. A devil of our own creation, an evil that lurks in our hearts, and a total fiction besides. Hell is other people. The power of the shadow is that, on a very basic level, it reminds us we're nothing but electric meat. Every intangible is our own projection on a world of energy and matter. The meat transgresses against itself -- but also it polices itself. The meat evolves and betters. 

At the edge of divide between is and isn't sits HIM, mankind's Darwinian helper. HE, a hole in the world, swollows up the wicked meat, the fat and gristly meat that holds the rest back. We are what we make ourselves and we can be great. The cruel and hungry Voice From Nowhere is here to add by subtraction. 


60% in the can

I plugged the last leaks in the chapter three script today. That means, barring future edits and revisions -- which are totally going to happen all over the place, to my patient partner's chagrin -- AVERY is over halfway written.

This particular chapter was tough and rewarding, like a college Astronomy course. It was full of lines like this:

CAP: Lysol --

CAP: --slathered prostitute perfume thick on every surface --

CAP: -- It’s very clean in here --

(That's from AVERY, not the Astronomy course)

This was also the most experimental part of the book, full of hallucinations and scary rooms, and it'll give JD some succulent design challenges to sink his canines into. Art is months away, of course, but I'm always thinking ahead. That's why I've got three scarves in my car. 


Back From Texas

I am.

And here's a -- mostly -- uncolored cover JD just conjured up, before the tints and hues and the expertly rendered title and credits are all laid over it. Au natural, baby.


Wire from the Front

Time is on some side other than mine, so:

I made it exactly halfway though the third chapter this week, which puts the whole five-part project at exactly half scripted. Seeing as this places the script at least two full installments ahead of the art, I'm fairly comfortable with this. The rest of the week was spent organizing an upcoming trip to the land of my birth and plotting a new project that I tried to put down, really I did, but the damn thing's crawled inside my head and laid eggs.

Stumptown is in ten hours. I might even spend some of them sleeping.