Jim Ottaviani's Blog, page 4
July 9, 2019
A week of books!
It’s been a thrilling seven days here at G.T. Labs!
July 2nd saw the release of Hawking (art by Leland Myrick) and today, July 9th, the paperback version of The Imitation Game (art by Leland Purvis) comes out.
We celebrated the former with release parties on the West Coast—hosted by Vroman’s and featuring Leland Myrick—and one on the Third Coast, hosted by Literati Bookstore and featuring me talking about the view from Hawking’s bedroom and other places and ideas that have been on my mind for years. We followed the event in Michigan with a party that featured a thematic, frozen treat. For it I gave Rob of Go! Ice Cream some loose parameters: your chocolate sorbet as the foundation, the April, 2019 black hole photo as inspiration, and a singularity in the middle. He added stars, named it (that wasn’t me, really!), surprised me with the choice of the singularity, and it was 100% delicious.
I can’t promise I’ll have any on hand for future events this summer, since those all involve hours of travel, but I do hope to see you somewhere out in the world where we can talk about comics and science and math and Pop Rocks and whatever else you want to hear about!
June 21, 2019
Astronauts! Coming in February 2020!
It’s about to get all Hawking, all day every day here at G.T. Labs, but before that happens I wanted to get this great news on the blog: Astronauts, in collaboration with Maris Wicks, is an official thing that will come out next year.
This book was a joy to do, from my first interview with Mary Cleave through the writing (I can remember struggles while making every book but this one) to seeing the first panels Maris drew. And now it’s on First Second’s official schedule. (You can preorder it here.) I sure hope readers love this one as much as Maris and I do.
Cheers to her, cheers to our protagonist Mary, and cheers to exploration.
June 1, 2019
No regrets
I didn’t leap at the chance to see The Who here in Detroit. I’m not a big concert-goer—crowds, decibels, cost, and opening bands all make me think “Nah, I’ll just listen to the album instead.” I’m not proud to say that I often get bored at even good shows, and as my mind wanders I wonder when it’s going to end and please, I’m tired and I have to work tomorrow so I want to go home now so no encore.
There are exceptions, and performers who meant a lot to me during certain periods of my life, but that’s mostly true of solo artists like Lyle Lovett and Aimee Mann. Arena rock, though? It only took a few shows (the Police and U2 back in the day) to make me sure I didn’t need that sort of thing in my life any more.
But…The Who. I started listening to them in the 1970s, via WLS, 89 on your AM dial all night long. I’ve never stopped. But, these days Daltrey and Townshend are all that’s left and is that enough? And they’re…well, they’re old. And because I now know more than John “Records truly is my middle name” Landecker ever told me through my transistor radio about their complicated relationship to each other and touring, that makes them less like the monolithic presence they were to me when I was a kid. (Yes, that was a “Who’s Next” joke.)
So when I saw they were coming to Detroit I said, out loud, to my wife. “Not interested. What’s the point?”
And then I thought about it some more, and read more about the show and how they were working with a symphony orchestra and that this might be the we-really-mean-it-this-time last tour together and I thought about Douglas Adams’ best book, Last Chance to See. And I realized this was probably it for me, and if I didn’t I’d regret it as much as my wife regrets skipping a chance to Zappa, her favorite artist, when she had a chance.
Long story short, I went. K came with me, even though she’s emphatically not a fan, and neither of us were bored for a moment. Daltrey and Townshend were technically superb, both musically and in the way they put together a show that played to their strengths and mitigated any weaknesses age might have dealt their voices or bodies. When the music demanded their youthful power Daltrey could still deliver a full-volumed and anguished prayer and Townshend could still deliver a series of chords that started and ended with his arm straight above his head. The hair stood up on my arms and neck during more than one number. It was emotional and inspiring in ways the disaffected youths that we all were—or in my case, pretended to be—would have scoffed at as a teen. This is not going gentle into that good night. As Townshend said at one point, “I fucking hate this. But I’m really good at it.” Maybe that’s about playing live and touring or how he and Daltrey don’t communicate well. Maybe they don’t, sort of, in some contexts…but it’s obvious they like being good together. And they were very good together in Detroit.
They didn’t play an encore, and I wanted one.
May 3, 2019
Ending Hawking
Hey, there’s an ARC giveaway of Hawking going on right now! Enter today: https://bit.ly/2ZypPLA
I hope you get one, and in case you do here’s a quick note to say congratulations, thanks, and…we changed the ending. Not much, but enough that you’ll notice the difference between what you’re holding now and what your readers will see in July.
(Well, that and the “Hardcover and Full Color Everywhere by Aaron Polk” thing. You’ll love this book in its final form.)
Here’s how that happened: In a television writer’s room there’s a fairly common occurence: someone pitches a plot-twist or a joke, and other writers nod. But if too many nod in agreement and say “right, that’s just what I was thinking” they’ll toss it out and think some more. Why? Because they know they’ve come up with the exact same thing their savvy audience will expect at that point in the story.
Something similar happened to us, and it was brought about by the sad occasion of Hawking’s death. As we revisited our original ending in light of his passing, we realized that what might have worked soon after we first visited Cambridge to meet him** in 2013 was not as good five years later. The imagery that seemed fresh and appropriate then? It no longer did. Our sensitivity reader made this point as well, pushing us further, and we took heed. The result is a closing sequence that’s subtly different from what’s in the ARC.
It’s now more abstract, leaves more to your imagination, and keeps you in Hawking’s mind—in Hawking’s world—for just a little longer. Perhaps even after you close the book.
I hope you enjoy the story, and come back for more on July 2nd!
**And by soon, I mean I came up with the ending, in outline form, while still in England. In fact, I wrote it down in the rain (England, right?) in a tiny notebook while I was on Darwin’s Sandwalk, pictured above. It was a wonderful trip.
April 28, 2019
What I’ve been up to
In addition to Hawking, and besides working with* my pal Jane to revise this website, I’ve written a bunch of books in recent years.
(*”Working with” means asking her to help and then saying what I like and don’t like about what she made happen. It was mostly improv-like** with lots of “yes, and”s.)
(**I also took some improv classes in the last couple of years. Boy, did I learn a lot about what scares me and gives me enjoyment.)
It hasn’t looked like it, because comics take a long time to finish, but in 2017-2018 I sent over 600 pages to editors for their approval. Here are the projects underway:
Hawking
You already know about this, right? It comes out in the U.S. on July 2, 2019. It will come out in other languages and countries too, but not all. China, Japan, Brazil…your move!
Astronauts
Maris Wicks (yes, the Primates team is back together!) is hard at work on the story of the first women astronauts as we speak. I wish I could show you how good it looks, but for now please trust me—it looks fabulous. This is scheduled for a February 2020 release.
Naturalist
This book was a departure for me, in that I didn’t know I wanted to do this project until the publisher of E.O. Wilson’s memoir approached me about adapting it to comics. Huh, thought I. What would that be like? Turns out it was fun, and a challenge as well. Chris Butzer (Gettysburg) is the artist for this, and he’s turning Wilson’s words and my staging into pictures. Side note: an adaptation means I can actually do the calculation of how many words a picture is really worth. (I know the number of words we used from the original text, and the number of panels we’re using, and beyond that it’s simple arithmetic.) More when the book comes out.
And then there are the monthly comics in celebration of the International Year of the Periodic Table for the Royal Society of Chemistry, but that’s a post for another day.
April 22, 2019
Hawking, in the house
Hi everybody. This book is real, in that you’re now looking at an actual copy…or looking at Hawking looking at a copy, depending on which photo you checked out first. So if you haven’t already, you can pre-order from your favorite retailer now. Because it’s real. Really real.
To celebrate I’d like to give someone an advance reading copy (ARC) of this very book, so here’s the offer:
As mentioned a while back, I also have a new website, and to test out the store here’s an offer to one and all. The first ten orders of any book there will get a free copy of one of my other books. I have Feynman, The Imitation Game, and even a copy or two of T-Minus to give away, not to mention the self-published titles.
So please head over to
and let me know your preference(s) in the “Order notes,” especially if you’re quick on the draw and don’t want that Hawking ARC. No guarantees I can give everyone the book they request, but I’ll try! And thanks, readers and friends.
April 14, 2019
Abrams ComicArts: 10th Anniversary!
I’ve had the honor of working with many great people and publishers, and Abrams is one of the latter, filled with the former. They celebrate their 10th anniversary this year, and are doing so with some really cool events, like a show at The Society of Illustrators. They’re also doing a cool giveaway, which you’ll want to enter.
So thanks to Charlie, Nicole, Orlando, Pam, Maya, and everyone else there for inviting Leland and me into such good company. And congratulations on ten years of superb books; I look forward to many more decades of great reading!
April 4, 2019
Publishers Weekly, on HAWKING
I promise not to do this with every review (he says, hoping there will be many more to come…for which there’s no guarantee) but it’s always great to see something nice right off the starting line: https://www.publishersweekly.com/978-1-62672-025-1
March 18, 2019
“Losers”
We just watched the Netflix series “Losers” (which we learned about through Nick Bertozzi’s (@NickBertozzi) involvement on storyboards) and it was both short and great. If you enjoy good storytelling and don’t mind some sports in the mix you’ll like it.
It’s also not about losers, and I’m sure the creators gave it a misleading title on purpose. The show is more about moving forward after failure—sometimes repeated failure. None of the people featured are winners in the sense of gold-medals or “We’re Number One!” chants. Their stories are more interesting than that. It’s hard to pick favorites, but if you only want to sample a few, try “Judgement,” “Stone Cold,” and “Aliy.”
The reason I’m writing about this is not because I want to start a new career as TV reviewer, but because the show brought to mind my two favorite sporting events I’ve watched, neither of which ended as wins, exactly:
Tigers v. Angels
August 26, 2015
Justin Verlander, after a season that began on the disabled list and proceeded through to some minor league play and a so-so W-L record, started a kind of nothing late season game (the Tigers were a bad 59-66 at that point, the Angels a barely average 64-61) that night, and we were relaxing at the ballpark because night baseball in Detroit is relaxing. But as the game progressed and he kept pitching and kept striking out batters it got exciting. Kat—still pretty new to all this—was confused by all the cheering, since on the face of it the game was getting kind of boring by the time of the 7th inning stretch. Since I’ve been watching since I was a kid and was a particularly superstitious kid at that (in Little League, when things were going well for my team, I ate the exact same Cobb salad…with turkey instead of bacon…before every evening game) I hadn’t pointed out to her that Verlander hadn’t given up any hits and only two walks until she asked.
The Tigers won easily, Verlander completed the game, easily, but it wasn’t a no-hitter in the end. Watching him as he threw one bad pitch that caused him to miss out on this by, literally, an inch, was simultaneously not fun and the very definition of seeing professionalism in action. It was a great night for fans, and we cheered until he came out for an encore.
Well, okay, it’s not like he threw more pitches, but the usually stoic Verlander seemed touched by how much we appreciated the show he’d put on. A win.
Kipchoge v. 2:00:00
May 6, 2016
Publicity stunt? Maybe. Two-plus advertisement for Nike? Probably. But…
We were watching a movie at home on Friday night when I said I was going to stay up a little longer to watch the start of a race (a time trial, really) that would begin at 11:45 local time. Kat thought I was nuts, but after months of training and preparation and secret shoe development, three runners were going to take a shot at running 26.2 miles in under two hours. It wouldn’t be an official world record because of the insertion of fresh pacers every 1.5+ miles (and a pace car throughout) but it would still be an amazing feat if someone managed it.
I’d been following this effort casually, largely via Ed Caesar’s (@edcaesar) great articles about the run-up in Wired, so I wanted to see what this would look like. You know, the first 15 minutes or so.
So we watched. And the ballet of the pacers and the beauty of Eliud Kipchoge’s running kept both of us up for the whole thing. Yeah, we watched the three people run in a short and not-at-all-scenic loop for more than two hours.
And when we weren’t watching Kipchoge look gorgeous every step of the way, we watched some advertorials and listened to some pseudo-science and groaned through some hyperbolic commentary.
(When the announcers said he was only X seconds behind pace now, “so if he can run the next few miles 20 seconds faster he’ll still do it!” I had to laugh. It’s as if they were talking about your average jogger who, approaching the end of their first 5K, starts sprinting to look good for a photo their spouse will post on Instagram. I mean, he was already running a 4:30-something mile…to pick up the pace by even a second or two would be virtually impossible. And that thing where it looked like he was smiling there near the end, the only change in expression he’d showed through most of the run? I don’t think he was happy to be falling behind pace. As he said afterward, “Three laps to go, I felt a little tired in my legs.” You’d grimace too.)
Anyway, you can probably tell by the title above that the two hour barrier didn’t get broken that night. But it was still worth staying up well past our bedtime, and the National Geographic documentary is well worth an hour—only an hour!—of your time. And Eliud Kipchoge is about as far from a loser as I can imagine.
February 28, 2019
A new site, and its background image
Hi! After a long hiatus from blogging and site updating, we’re back with both…and now at least the site will be responsive. (I’ll try too!) I hope you like it, and can find stuff, and that it works well for all your G.T. Labs and science comics needs. I think it will for mine. Many thanks to my friend Jane for getting me here.
Of course a website refresh isn’t newsworthy at this point in history. It’s not like we’re living in the world of The Americans, where “ARPANET” is invoked like it’s a magical and mysterious thing. Which it is, if you think about it for even a second. (And for the worst cross-over ever, imagine Harry Potter sneaking onto that show and yelling Arpa Net, causing all the mainframe tape drives to spin out of control.) But it’s also mundane and commonplace too.
So what remains that’s magical and mysterious while also being the very definition of mundane and commonplace? Quantum theory! And that’s where the new background image comes in. This is the rendering of Einstein’s clock-in-a-box as it appears in Albert Einstein: Philosopher-Scientist, edited by Paul Arthur Schilpp (1949). No credit for the artist, but I infer from the text that it was commissioned by Bohr himself, and as a collector, that would be a drawing I’d love to have the original for.
It illustrates a thought experiment he posed to stump Niels Bohr and his fellow quantum theorists in Einstein’s ongoing effort to demonstrate, once and for all, that this quantum stuff was nonsense. The bunk. Just Plain Wrong.
It almost worked.
Bohr had dispatched most of Einstein’s previous objections with relative ease, but this one made him sweat. Here’s how the scene plays out in Suspended in Language, which you can buy right here on this site, or from great booksellers everywhere.
(Sorry/not sorry about the EPR cliffhanger!)
