The Con

That's right. It's time for Planetcomicon in Kansas City again. This coming Saturday I'll be roaming the aisles of dealers and artists and writers looking for cool new things to buy, good deals, and contacts. I wish the convention was as big as Chicago or San Diego, where a ton can happen as far as meeting people and networking but you take what you can get.
I was originally going to use this opportunity to find an artist to pencil The Ghoul but since I think I've found that artist already, I'll just have fun...and maybe keep my eyes open for an artist that fits a different project. I know. One thing at a time. Hey, it seems most pros are writing more than one book anyway. True, they don't have a different day job to also deal with but why not shoot for the moon. The worst that can happen is it will blow up.

I just found out an old friend of mine from school days is writing and drawing his own graphic novel. It's called Chickenhare, Fire in the Hole. It comes out in stores everywhere April 9th. The first Chickenhare graphic novel was nominated for an Eisner Award so check it out. Click on the link below for pretty pictures.

http://www.chickenhare.blogspot.com/

Story and Snakes

Well, that's all of the story. The Weeping Beast is out there for the world to see, warts and all. The story could have used maybe one more revision but it was time to release it into the wild. There was another story about how a viking made it into space in the first place but I can't find it in my files. Lets just say that he died and on the way to Valhala he got frozen in a frost giant's cave after the destruction of Asgard and war between the gods. He was unfrozen by an alien and after killing him, he stole his space craft to follow the stars. I was going after a whole John Carter of Mars vibe.

On to snakes. The first picture of Snake Eyes in the GI-Joe movie has been released and it is awesome. Yo-Joe!
http://www.aintitcool.com/images2008/Snake_Eyes_large.jpg

The Weeping Beast 3

The roar of the beast cracked through the night once more, a sound of such guttural force that it had made teeth chatter and weakened the knees of giants.
Mar clenched his jaw. He shifted his grip on his sword.
“Come to me beast. Come to me that I may weep no more.” The woman cried out.
“Keep silent woman.” Mar told her.
He could hear the breathing of the beast all around him. The spirits of the dead called out to him to join them. The scent of a battle filled his nostrils and he breathed in deeply.
At that moment the beast emerged, crouched on a jagged rock amidst a break in the mist. The muscles all along the beast’s powerful body were like tightly woven chords of rope, ready to spring at any moment. Its size was easily more than twice that of Mar. Its fur like tall grass bristled in the wind. Its three golden eyes seemed to hover above the dark fur and the ferocious sharp-toothed grin of the beast.
Mar took a step backwards.
The woman screamed.
The beast sprung off the rock and charged at Mar.
Mar jumped behind a pillar just before the claws of the beast reached him. He lunged at the side of the beast with his sword but it moved too quickly and the blow only glanced its tail.
The beast pinned Mar against a pillar. Mar looked into the open maw, the jagged teeth as the beast roared. He threw his head back from the reek of death and blood.
Mar pulled his legs up and pushed with all his strength against the beast. With a groan the creature fell backwards and landed on its side.
A shower of rocks fell from above Mar as he too fell to the ground. He noticed several new cracks among the runes carved in the stone. The pillar was falling apart.
The beast had scrambled to its feet and the woman screamed as it turned its attention to her. It took a swipe at her with one of its claws. The chains clanged as she twisted to avoid it. It seemed death had lost its allure.
The woman was only a diversion. The beast crept past her and fixed its eyes on Mar.
Mar stood and brushed his hair away from his eyes. His hand came away with blood on it from a wound to his head. He grabbed his sword with both hands and held it near his side.
“Come, beast, and by Hiemidale’s sword I will cut you down.”
The beast answered with a roar and sprung at Mar. It pushed through the weakened stone pillar and sent rocks and dust flying everywhere. But Mar did not move nor falter in his stance.
The beast did not stop.
Mar waited until he could smell the beast’s foul breath and then he struck. He swung the sword with both hands. The beast let out a sharp cry of pain then dropped to the ground.
The blade had cut a deep path in the beast’s neck. It was not going anywhere soon.
Mar stepped over to the beast and grabbed the hilt of his sword. He staggered some as he lifted the blade over his head and swung down at the neck of the beast with all the strength he had left.
There was a sudden sound from the beast’s mouth like the wail of a thousand dying men. The clang of metal on bone. Then there was nothing.
The beast’s head lay severed from its body. Mar looked at the dark blood all around and expected to fall dead himself. He leaned against a pillar for support.
“The beast bleeds like you do.”
In the battle he had forgotten about the woman. She stood still chained to the pillar marking the grave of her beloved but a smile skimmed across her face.
“Tonight my beloved will fly into the arms of Othir and rest in the Eternals.” She said.
Mar knew he should be ashamed of his bloody appearance in front of such a woman. He cut the chains from her with his sword.
It had been a long year since the sweet taste of a woman had brushed his lips.
Mar grabbed her with one arm and pulled her close. He breathed in her smell of exotic spices.
The woman did not struggle.
“I thank you.” She said.
“Thank whatever gods you worship woman.” Mar said.
He brought his face down to her and kissed those precious lips under the red moons of Venusia as the spirits of the dead floated to the sky like a thousand petals from a thousand flowers caught in the wind.

The Weeping Beast 2

“I am Mar.” He said, in a way that seemed to encompass everything there is to know about him.
She observed his long hair and broad shoulders, his sharp features, and the long naked sword held as if it were an extension of his strong arm.
“I have not seen blue eyes like yours.”
Mar had no reply.
Her eyes shot up to his lips.
“How are you able to breathe without a mask?” She asked.
“I do not know. I do not know the name of this place nor the inhabitants, or how I breathe your cursed air and understand your words. Your cries led me here.”
The woman took a careful step back and pressed herself closely to the towering pillar she wept at earlier.
“Than something else may have heard my tears as well.”
Mar turned his head slowly to look around him. The growing mist, bloody from the strange moonlight, made visibility limited.
“I see nothing.” Mar said.
“You are a fool stranger that may be dead before sunrise, as I hope to be.”
Mar grinned.
“Death came for me once. It was cold.”
In the distance there was a low roar.
The woman gazed out across the mist.
“It is the reason for my tears.” She said, “These pillars mark the dead and the cursed. Beneath this one lays my beloved. This night I plan to join him in the afterlife.”
Mar looked up and down her shimmering body.
“You hold no weapon.” He said.
“You will not stop me.”
Her eyes erupted defiance.
The roar returned, much closer this time.
“The beast will kill me and my spirit will join my beloved’s.”
“What is this beast?” Mar asked.
“The beast that guards the dead. It keeps the souls here under a curse that as long as the beast lives none will be free to travel to Rhakamon, the Eternals.”
Mar took a few careful steps into the mist that surrounded them.
“By the Allfather’s beard this mist is thick enough to hide a long ship.” He said.
The woman scurried closer to the pillar that marked her beloved’s grave and wrapped her arms around it. Her slender hands worked hard at some task hidden from view. There was a sharp clanging sound.
When Mar flashed his eyes back to her he saw the bracelet and a chain. The woman had chained herself to the pillar as some kind of sacrifice to the beast.
The woman was stubborn. She was also strange and beautiful, something worth fighting for.

The Weeping Beast 1

It was a place for the dead.
He didn’t belong there, not yet, though the wind whispered through the wild reeds in his mind and spoke of a great rest and his lips tasted of honey.
His hand brushed against one of the large columns as he passed. The stone was cold. At the next column he lingered and traced the strange markings carved along its surface.
The markings were not the only strange thing he had encountered in this land.
A cry suddenly echoed among the columns. He knew the dead did not cry yet unsheathed his broad sword, as instinct demanded him.
The cry continued. He followed the sound through row after row of the towering columns until he at last found the source.
A creature knelt at the base of one of the stone columns. The being’s form was enough like a human to call her a woman. The scales of her skin shimmered in the dull red haze of the moonlight. Her hair was woven in chords that were long and black. When she turned her head she uncovered a slim face with wide eyes that shone like dark jewels and a mask that covered her nose and mouth. A thin flap of skin started under her chin and ran down to her chest.
She gazed up at him with glistening eyes.
“Be gone strange spirit.” She said, “You cannot take me.”
“Do I appear a spirit to you?”
The woman coughed behind her mask.
“Be gone.” She said as she leapt and swung her arms out at the man. Her hands stopped abruptly against his very solid torso.
The man grabbed her arm in defense.
The start of a scream slipped through her mask but was hurriedly covered by her free hand. Her eyes darted about wildly in fear.
“I mean no harm.” The man told her.
He let go of her arm but kept his sword close to his side.
Those dark eyes of the woman looked at him with a new shine. Her hand gently slipped away from her mask.
“You are a stranger in Venusia.” She said.

A brief interruption

Still working on the script for issue 2 of The Ghoul. Things are moving along well.

I am toying with posting a short story that I wrote a couple of years ago. I would post it as a serial, maybe a section every week. There are bound to be errors that I don't catch but it will at least give an idea of my writing style.

Right now I'm listening to The Black Crowes. I'm reading Sacred Games by Vikram Chandra. I recently watched Justice League:New Frontier.