SR 1 PAGE ONE-HUNDRED AND FIFTEEN

Ugh, if only we could all have a private little getaway in the clouds right now…

I felt certain pangs of guilt about this issue back in 2004. Not over anything philosophical or political or whatever, but about the artwork. ART guilt. Two-thirds of the comic is two characters chatting in a pure, white void.

This felt ILLEGAL to me at the time. An abdication of responsibility! I’m supposed to fill every corner and crevice of every page with mind-boggling, almost “serial killer” levels of intense detail! Every pattern on every paisley shirt, every twist of grain on every wooden board, every speck of sand on every beach, I felt obligated to draw it all. That’s why I used a mechanical pencil, right? With the thinnest, hardest leads, frequently snapped off to make the point even sharper. You don’t need snapped leads to sketch clouds.

Does this cloud crap even count as comics?

I think so. Maybe? It was a very conscious choice, anyway.

Every other issue of Serenity Rose is packed to bursting with intricate detail-work. I think the detail generally feels more cozy than overwhelming, but it’s undeniably A LOT. If you wanted to, you could let your mind wander away from the story and get lost in all that fussy pencil business. Which is part of the unique joy of comics. Comics are one of only two storytelling mediums where you’re allowed – even encouraged – to pause and soak in the details. (Video games are the other. Usually. Games that force you to race past the details with a time limit are a crime against all that is good and beautiful in this world.)

Serenity Rose #5 explicitly denies you the details. You’ve got nothing to focus on but two women having a conversation. Part of that was a challenge to myself: Could I hold the reader’s attention with just talking?

I think I did okay, but it’s not for me to say. That’s up to you!

Anyway, if your eyeballs miss feasting, just flip back to any other issue. I guarantee you missed something in all that serial killer mess.

STRAY NOTES: I think when Sera conjures the chair it could really use a sound effect. I suggest “POIK!” Maybe “BLUMK.” , but it’s easy enough to shove this under the rug. Let’s do that now.

SR 1 PAGE ONE-HUNDRED AND SIXTEEN

Baba Yaga exists in this universe! Literal Baba Yaga!

For those unfamiliar, Baba Yaga is a witch from Slavic folklore. She’s classically hideous, eats humans (natch), and lives deep in the woods in a house featuring giant chicken legs. In some of the old tales, she travels around in a big iron mortar she drags along with a pestle while simultaneously sweeping away her tracks with a broom. Which seems like a needlessly difficult method of travel, particularly for someone who has a house with legs RIGHT THERE. To me, it sounds more like she’s trying to smuggle a giant pestle across state lines and is somehow unfamiliar with wheels. (I wonder if Vicious asked her about any of this?)

Baba Yaga has some obvious similarities to another cannibalistic forest-dwelling hag with a weird house: the witch from Hansel and Gretel. Could it be the same lady? If Baba Yaga is real in the world of Serenity Rose, maybe the Hansel and Gretel story is, too. I bet the fairy tale we all know is just some kind of twisted propaganda, though…

“Yes, officer, these two lost kids blundered through the woods to my house, and yes, I conjured some candy to shut up their crying. Frankly, they made gluttons of themselves. And when I told them they’d had enough candy the little creeps tried shoving me in the oven!

“…What’s that? They said I tried to do WHAT to them??”

Typical anti-witch bigotry, am I right?

BACK TO THE PRESENT!

Little late posting the newsletter today because I spent the morning talking about my career in front of 300 middle schoolers. And no, it’s not weird, I was invited this time! Yes, I know I usually just rant and rave through various windows (it’s called “MARKETING”), but this time people actually wanted me there. It seemed to go pretty well! Lots of good questions, I only blacked out once or twice, zero fatalities, all good. Plus I signed a Croc:

If that’s not living the dream, brother, I don’t know what is.

NEXT WEEK: THE TEA TEST.