Ana Bosch's Blog, page 3

This Week's Promo Events

Sorry I'm a little late announcing this on the blog! Here's what's going on for this week:
Ana Bosch creates her own sexy monsterSpotlight post on Mantastic Fiction, 7/10. Comment on the post before Thursday night for a chance to with the ebook of Art of Death.
Interview: Ana BoschAuthor interview on Long and Short Reviews, 7/11.
Hotties of Art HistoryGuest post on Cup o Porn (to be added Thursday 7/12)

Art of Death Has Been Released!

Despite the support of his rich older boyfriend, starving artist Riley Burke is determined not to be a trophy—hence his second job as a nude model at the local art school. It’s important to him that he pay his own way, so when the artist Coliaro requests a private modeling session with him, he jumps at the chance to earn some real cash.


Then he hears the rumors—that Coliaro is undead. That his worshippers perform rituals to fill him with life energy. That every time he paints a male nude, the painting transforms to depict a gruesome murder. And that shortly after, a young man turns up dead.


The source of these rumors is a man named Westwood, who claims to be an instructor at the school and warns Riley not to get involved. Riley ignores the advice—but when the rumors pan out and another murder looms, he turns to Westwood for help. Westwood is clearly keeping secrets. He’s dangerous, and Riley doesn’t know if he can be trusted—which makes him all the more attractive. Riley is in way over his head… and his involvement with the undead may make him the ultimate target.


This story is intended for an 18+ audience!


Buy Ebook


Buy Paperback(You can also find Art of Death through other retailers such as Barnes and Noble and Amazon)
The first 20 people to purchase a paperback copy of Art of Death through the Dreamspinner Press website will get a signed copy with an original sketch. Check out this post for details.


I hope you enjoy the novel, and I'd love to hear your thoughts! I truly appreciate every reader I may have. Also, if you enjoy it, please consider helping to spread the word by leaving a review on Amazon or Goodreads. Word of mouth is a great thing! :)

Signed/Sketched Copies of Art of Death!

We're now less than a week away from the release of Art of Death!  Those of you who have bought from Dreamspinner Press before might already know that the first twenty customers to buy a paperback through their site can often get a signed copy.  Well, I should have probably warned the Dreamspinner folk that if they put a piece of vellum in front of me, I'm going to draw on it. ;)

I just finished up with 20 signed original ink sketches, and they're on their way back to Florida to be inserted into the paperbacks.  So that means that the first twenty people to buy a paperback copy of Art of Death through the Dreamspinner Press website will get a signed copy WITH an original sketch!

The sketches will be given out at random, so unfortunately there's no way to request a specific sketch.  But I hope the twenty of you will enjoy what you get!  FYI, here are the sketches:



1. A ferret
2. An angry cockatoo
3. Porter #1 (Art of Death)
4. Pogo #1 (DOTU)
5. Riley (Art of Death)
6. Westwood (Art of Death)
7. Samsid (DOTU)
8. Pogo #2 (DOTU)
9. Ebo the cockatiel
10. A dandelion puff (an homage to Porter)
11. A dumb fat bird
12. A dumb kiwi
13. A weird turtle with a birthday hat
14. A snowman with a pitchfork
15. Porter #2
16. Random profile of guy with swooshy hair
17. A cockatiel in a tree
18. A sheep standing on a wedge of cheese
19. A sheep getting yelled at by a bird
20. A linseed oil bottle with a red liquid inside, and a paintbrush

Here's another photo:

Because I seem to have identity issues, the images are each signed "Ana Bosch," but they also include my initials and "Bob," which is how I sign all my artwork.  Each piece of vellum has also been imbued with magical powers via the oil from my fingers, after which the sheets were rubbed all over my chest.  (Okay, that last part didn't actually happen.)
The signed copies will be available starting July 2 here on the Dreamspinner Press site.

Manga and Romance: They will rob you of your innocence (as if you had any to begin with)

As part of the Manga and Romance Blog Hop, today I'm going to talk about how manga, yaoi, and gay romance chipped away at my childhood innocence—in the best possible way.

It all began on a bright sunny day in the 1990s...  Or maybe it was cold and cloudy.  Hell if I remember.  I was eleven years old, and my mom had taken my sisters and me to Blockbuster to rent movies.  (Remember when people used to go to a store to rent movies?  Good old VHS tapes with a sticker telling you to be kind and rewind, etc.)

Anyway, even at that age, I was completely absorbed in my own characters and stories, and my pet project at the time had a major character named Maurice.  So when I came across a movie called Maurice and read the back of the cover, I thought it was "funny" that the character named Maurice was gay and decided to make it my pick for the day.  My mom took a brief look at the back of the box and said, "Gay?  Why would you want to watch that?"  But she let me rent it anyway.  I think she didn't look too closely at the warnings on the back of the box, such as the big bold one that said, "This movie will forever corrupt your daughter and offer her first glimpse of men's penises other than when she walked in on her dad in the shower and laughed her head off."  (I'm paraphrasing.)

As it turns out, I was a little too young to truly appreciate Maurice.  But even then, some of the more heated moments in the movie stuck in my mind like the glue my mother used to make for us out of rice while all my classmates got to use that fancy Elmer's stuff from the store.

A couple years pass, and my friends get me into Sailor Moon, which was airing at around six in the morning on TV every weekday.  Granted, in the mangled American TV version of Sailor Moon, they turned one of the men from the first season's gay couple into a girl, but I was tech savvy enough to navigate the web (at that time known as "America Online") and discover the truth behind Zoisite and Kunzite.

Things didn't really click for me, however, until I was fourteen or fifteen years old.  By that time, I was heavily into anime, and my friends had introduced me to Neon Genesis Evangelion (which, by the way, I do not recommend unless you like to see lots and lots of creepy and grotesque sexualized imagery of fourteen-year-old girls).  But, again while surfing online, I stumbled upon some (pretty tame) "yaoi" fan art of Shinji and Kaworu.  I asked myself, "All these fascinating pictures I really like are labeled 'yaoi.'  What does that mean?"  So I went to Yahoo.com and did a search.

Thus was the end of my innocence.

Throughout the next decade or so, I watched and read every yaoi title I could get my hands on.  One of my favorites at the time was the manga series Kizuna, a love story between a former kendo prodigy and the son of a yakuza boss.  I had to buy the books from an online Japanese import shop and then download text translations online, or text summaries if translations weren't available.  Apparently now you can buy the whole manga series in English, which is still on my list of "things to do when I have money."

The manga that probably had the largest influence on my own storytelling, however, was Yami no Matsuei (which you can also now buy in English under the title Descendants of Darkness).  This was primarily a fantasy story about (some very pretty) gods of death who judge the souls of the deceased and handle cases where those souls are interfering with human life.  This series also has one of the better anime adaptations, which I also recommend.  What I loved most about this series was that it had a very strong plot, and the plot really was the focus, but there was also a steady stream of m/m content throughout.  While I appreciate straight-up romance, I prefer stories about other types of struggles that happen to also have strong romantic themes.  This is the way I approach most of my own work.

Later in college, when my interests as an illustration major began shifting toward a more detailed and "realistic" aesthetic, I began branching out from just yaoi and began exploring m/m novels, movies, and TV from the U.S. and other countries.  I even revisited Maurice, both the novel and the movie, and both remain favorites for me.  (The audiobook of Maurice is also wonderful, and has the best narration I've heard on any audiobook.)

Now in my own work as an artist and writer, I like to try to find a healthy balance between the fantasy of yaoi and the (relative) realism of other m/m media, as well as the balance between plot and romance. I'm looking forward to my 7/2 release of Art of Death, as well as the time that more of the m/m elements begin to pop up in my webcomic, Demon of the Underground, because I'm really happy with the balance I've found in both.

Check out the other participants of the Manga and Romance Blog Hop, and be sure to leave a comment on my blog or another participating blog for a chance to win the GRAND PRIZE!  There's lots of m/m and yaoi giveaways, and you don't want to miss the opportunity to shed the last of your innocence, do you?

Too Late to Chicken Out

The release of Art of Death is exactly two weeks away, and as much as I'd love to go crawl back into my hole and pretend I've never written anything, it's a little to late to do that now.

Don't get me wrong; I'm excited and thrilled that this novel is going to be published. But I'm also a whole lot more nervous than I thought I would be. There's a lot to be nervous about. Will people buy the book? If they buy it, will they like it? What if there are mistakes that I missed?

The thing I'm probably the most nervous about, however, is the "heat level" of the book. Let's face it, The Dragon Tamer could easily carry a PG-13 rating. Art of Death? No way. This is a hard R. This is the first time I'm putting out anything with any sort of graphic content in it. (Yes, my webcomic will have some graphic content, but it hasn't happened *yet.*) The sex in Art of Death is integral to the plot and the development of the characters, but in a way that makes it even harder, because I can't even cobble together a "clean" version of the manuscript for people I know without feeling like I'm losing huge chunks of character development.

I finished up with the galley proof today, and one of the editors passed along some really positive and encouraging feedback from the proofreader that helped to put my mind at ease.

Anyway, with only two weeks left before the release, I thought it would be good to share an excerpt from the novel.  This is the opening scene of the novel, and you get to experience a bit of the joy of an art school critique.  I'll probably share one or two more excerpts before the release, but for now, here's the first scene:

Art of Death - Excerpt
“What the hell is this crap? Who put this up on the wall?”A timid brown-haired student shrank back in his chair, and the beads of sweat on his forehead had nothing to do with the scorching Florida heat. Mr. Tobias yanked one of the eighteen canvases off the critique wall, holding it up for all the students seated before him to get a closer look. “Seriously, Brandon, what the hell is this? The model looks like he’s got an elephant head between his legs. I feel like he’s about to spit water at me through his trunk!”At the back of the room, Riley cringed. Even though he was a professional model, he couldn’t help but feel awkward when certain parts of his anatomy were brought up for discussion. A few students snickered at the instructor’s comment, and the boy named Brandon withered in his seat like last week’s produce.“This isn’t even worth critiquing,” Mr. Tobias said, tossing the canvas onto a nearby table. “I’d expect that level of work from a freshman, but you’re going to be in the real world in less than ten months.” He went on to the next painting while Riley adjusted the belt on his knee-length robe, curling his toes in a futile attempt to keep his feet warm. Despite the high temperature that day, it never felt quite as warm when he was standing naked on a platform at the center of the room.Riley had yet to get over the embarrassment of seeing all the merciless student renderings of him each class, but in a way he still enjoyed it. It had the same morbid appeal as looking at old yearbook photos, or perhaps a public execution. But in every session, at least a few paintings stood out from the rest, and Riley liked to use them to try to predict the art industry’s future superstars. As the brochures stated, Prestwick College of Art only accepted the finest, most qualified students—with “qualified” meaning “rich” about 75 percent of the time. Nevertheless it was a prestigious school, and Riley himself was proud to have a Prestwick BFA listed on his resume.“See, this is more like it,” Mr. Tobias continued as he made his way down the line. “This is professional level here, guys. This student has already mastered the basics of anatomy and value and color and has gone on to explore the matter of style.” He glanced at a shaggy-haired student in the front row. “Well done, Porter.”A couple of boys in the back row rolled their eyes at each other, and Riley thought he knew why. In the few months that he had been posing—mostly during the more relaxed elective summer session—he’d lost track of how many times he’d already heard the phrase, “Well done, Porter.” But he couldn’t begrudge the boy. Porter was talented, and even more unusual, he was humble.He took a few steps forward to get a better view of Porter’s painting. It was like looking in a mirror while drunk: he somehow appeared much more attractive in the painting than he did in real life. The colors were more vibrant and intense than in reality, and he hated to admit that Porter had minimized some of his flaws and added a flattering detail here and there. Riley was far from unattractive­—twenty-five years old, soft brown hair hanging low across his brows, well-toned and lithe, with that perfect tan that everyone in Florida sought. But he could have been a bit taller, or a little less bony in the face. Although Porter had stayed true to his appearance and physique, the man in the painting put Riley to shame. At least that was Riley’s opinion.“All right,” Mr. Tobias announced, “we have enough time left for a forty-minute painting. Standing pose. I’ll adjust the lighting after he gets into position.” He gestured toward Riley. “Ready, Riley?”With a nod, Riley climbed onto the platform and shed his robe. He adopted a natural stance, and the students began examining him and moving their workspaces in order to paint at an optimal angle. This was the part that was most difficult to Riley; whenever he saw students moving across the room because they didn’t like his pose from their previous position, he always ended up wondering if he was doing a good enough job. But at the same time, he knew the students appreciated him. After all, he was the only nude male model under the age of seventy that the school had.The time, as always, dragged by, and Riley’s legs quivered from the strain of standing still. He worried his upper body had begun to droop and tried to correct himself. A couple of students let out disgruntled sighs and wiped out portions of their paintings to make revisions.When his timer let out a high-pitched ding, he lingered for a minute to oblige the handful of students who were scribbling in last-minute details on their paintings. Then he hopped off the carpeted platform and onto the cold concrete floor. He swiftly wrapped himself in his robe before heading toward the corner of the studio, which was concealed by a long velvety curtain. In the privacy of his makeshift changing room, he dressed in a pair of loose-fitting cargo shorts and a T-shirt.Most of the students were still packing up and cleaning their brushes, the smell of paint thinner permeating the room, as Riley scampered toward freedom. Before he could reach the exit, Mr. Tobias flagged him down. “Riley, there’s something I want to tell you.”“Yeah?” Riley asked, a little anxious. With Mr. Tobias, it could have been anything from “You were great today” to “Maybe you should think about trimming a little shorter down there.” He’d studied under Mr. Tobias back when he attended Prestwick, and he was used to the man’s tactless approach.“I don’t know if you’ve heard, but next week we’re having a painting demo during the Thursday morning session.”“Yeah, I heard. Who’s doing the demo?”“Well, that’s the exciting part.” Mr. Tobias set a hand on his shoulder, giving him an enthusiastic shake. “We were lucky enough to convince Coliaro to come and paint for us.”“Dude!” Porter cried, shooting abruptly to his feet and nearly knocking over his easel. He turned to Mr. Tobias with an almost comical look of shock in his eyes. A couple other students, also having overheard, murmured softly to each other. But Riley simply stared obliviously, waiting for Mr. Tobias to continue.“Come on, man!” the instructor said. “You went to this school. How do you not know who Coliaro is?”“I studied illustration, not fine art. I can tell you anything you want to know about J. C. Leyendecker or James Montgomery Flagg, but Coliaro? Never heard of him.”“You’re hopeless.” Mr. Tobias turned to Porter, and the two of them exchanged humoring glances. “Coliaro is a world-renowned figure painter from Chicago. He does alla prima oil, but it always looks like he spent weeks glazing everything.”“He hasn’t been in the spotlight for a few years now,” Porter added as he packed away his paint tubes. “You know the story: scandal and infamy, and so on.”Mr. Tobias shot him an irritated glance. “We don’t need to go there. The point is we have a true master coming to paint for us, and he specifically requested you as the model. He wants to paint you for the demo, and again in a private session that evening.”“He really wants me?” Riley asked. “How does he even know who I am?”“He’s an acquaintance of mine. He’s seen some of the paintings I did of you in class. And of course, you came with a high recommendation from me.”Riley blushed.“Coliaro is very generous with his models. You can expect at least double your usual pay for the private session, if not more. Think it over, and let me know if you’re up for it.”“Think what over? I don’t need to think! I’ll do it!”“All right, then,” Mr. Tobias said. “Remember, next Thursday.”His face aglow, Riley left the figure studio and stepped into the stifling September heat. He should have gone out the back entrance like most of the students, as it led to an air-conditioned hall and was closer to the parking lot, but he hadn’t been paying attention. There was no point in turning around now. This time he’d just have to sweat it out.He hoped he hadn’t kept Nick waiting. Since his battered old Corolla was still in the shop after a busted radiator, Riley had to depend on his boyfriend to take time out of his own very busy schedule to drive him to and from work. More than anything, he hated inconveniencing Nick. The man was always so generous and never complained about having to act as Riley’s chauffeur.Relieved, he saw no gunmetal Jaguar parked by the bus stop bench at the edge of campus. There was, however, a young brunet with a French easel slung over his back. Porter was instantly recognizable even from a distance; the haphazard tangle of shaggy hair atop his lanky frame reminded Riley of a dandelion puff. As Riley approached, Porter smiled jovially at him. “Hey!”“Hey,” Riley replied, a little stiffly.“That was a good class today. I really liked the first pose you did—the seated one. That one was fun.”“Thanks.” It was always uncomfortable talking to the students outside of class. Or inside. Or anywhere, really. There had been a couple of times when he’d run into a familiar face at the grocery store or the gas station, and he could never get himself to maintain eye contact. But Porter was good-natured and sociable enough that it relieved a bit of the discomfort.For the first month in which Riley posed for Porter’s class, he was convinced Porter was the stereotypical art school stoner. His laid-back attitude coupled with his fashion sense—flip-flops, paint-stained pants, equally stained graphic T-shirt, and the occasional untidy scruff across his jaw—had Riley thoroughly fooled. First impressions aside, Porter was, in fact, driven and ambitious, always trying to improve his art, and he was also known to toss out a surprisingly lucid comment here and there, even when Riley was convinced he’d been zoned out.“You’re really talented,” Riley said awkwardly.Porter scoffed. “It’s not talent. I’ve just been doing this for a long time.”“Can’t be that long. I’m older than you  but nowhere near as good.”With a chuckle, Porter took a seat on the bench, waiting as Riley sat next to him. “I heard someone say you used to be a student here. How did you end up modeling?”“Oh….” He kind of hated telling the story. He had yet to find a way to explain himself without feeling like a failure. “I majored in illustration, but when I graduated, it was a really bad year for job-searching. I ended up going into freelance—which is basically just a code word for unemployment if you’re fresh out of school—so I’m modeling to bring in some extra income until I build up a bigger client base.”Especially with the current economy, it was tough for brand new freelance illustrators to make a living without simultaneously holding a day job. Riley worked from home, providing various illustrations for a handful of clients, but none of them sent him enough work to cover his living expenses. It was now several years since his college graduation, and he had expected to be able to drop his day job by this time. He examined Porter’s face, waiting for a condescending reaction. But no sign of judgment came. Instead, Porter looked almost impressed.“Man, I’d never be able to do what you do. Modeling at the school I used to go to, in front of old teachers? Yikes!”“Mr. Tobias was actually the one who talked me into doing it. All the other models were supplied through an agency, but he went out of his way to get me a job, talking me up and telling the school I’d be a good choice.”Porter cackled. “So he pretty much told them you’d look good standing naked in front of the class, after just having you as a student. Hell, how would he even know?”Thankfully, Porter didn’t seem to spot the telltale blush that spread across Riley’s face. He changed the subject. “So, are you an illustration major?”“Nah, fine art. Basically I’ll be a busboy for the rest of my life.” He shrugged. “But painting is the only thing I’m good at.”“With the way you paint, galleries all over the place are going to want your work.”“Eh, I don’t know.” After a pause, he turned to Riley with rapt attention. “This private session with Coliaro—do you realize you’re going to see the inside of his studio next week? I’d kill for that kind of opportunity!”“Really?”“Hell yeah!” He leaned in. “Maybe next week we can get lunch after class, and you can tell me about it!”“Uhh….” Riley shifted uncomfortably. With Porter’s easygoing attitude, he didn’t think it was a come-on, but still it was a bit outside his comfort zone. “I’ll check my schedule.”“Awesome!”“Hey.” Riley paused. “What were you saying in class, about infamy and scandal?”“I was hoping you’d ask that!” Porter said with an eager grin. He leaned in even closer, lowering his voice. “So here’s the story. Back in Chicago, about five years ago, Coliaro did a series of paintings he called Oscuro Bello. All male models, all nude. While they were up in the gallery, someone vandalized them. Made it look like all the models had been killed. And then people started turning up dead, killed in a way that looked like the paintings. They could never pin it on Coliaro, but still, it kind of put a damper on his career.” He sighed. “Most artists still respect him, even if the general public doesn’t.”“Damn,” Riley said. He wasn’t sure what to think.Before he could ask any more questions, he saw the slick Jaguar turning the corner and pulling up alongside the curb. Immediately, he pulled away from Porter and turned his head to see if Nick had spotted the two of them sitting so close.“What’s up?” Porter asked.“Nothing. That’s my ride. I gotta go.”Porter still appeared puzzled by Riley’s abrupt change in demeanor, but he didn’t press the matter. Instead, he gave a casual wave and called, “See ya next class!”

Art of Death: I have a blurb!

Anyone wondering exactly what Art of Death is about?  Wonder no more!

---

Despite the support of his rich older boyfriend, starving artist Riley Burke is determined not to be a trophy—hence his second job as a nude model at the local art school. It’s important to him that he pay his own way, so when the artist Coliaro requests a private modeling session with him, he jumps at the chance to earn some real cash.

Then he hears the rumors—that Coliaro is undead. That his worshippers perform rituals to fill him with life energy.  That every time he paints a male nude, the painting transforms to depict a gruesome murder.  And that shortly after, a young man turns up dead.

The source of these rumors is a man named Westwood, who claims to be an instructor at the school and warns Riley not to get involved. Riley ignores the advice—but when the rumors pan out and another murder looms, he turns to Westwood for help. Westwood is clearly keeping secrets. He’s dangerous, and Riley doesn’t know if he can be trusted—which makes him all the more attractive. Riley is in way over his head… and his involvement with the undead may make him the ultimate target.

I owe it all to Alex

By now, I should know that no matter how many times I read through a manuscript, a handful of errors will deliberately hide from me until after I've already submitted it to the publisher.
To be fair, The Dragon Tamer was completely clean when I sent it in.  There were other improvements needed, but no typos.  Unfortunately, I can't say the same for the two novels I've submitted.  (Who would have thought that eradicating errors in a 10,000-word short story is a little easier than a 96,255-word novel?)
For me, the main culprit is dropped words.  My first drafts are usually quite clean (in terms of typos), but when I go back to edit, I always fall victim to MS Word's lovely habit of additionally selecting the word right before the block of text I'd intended to replace.
I'd just submitted Bonds of Death, sequel to Art of Death, to the publisher.  After submitting, I decided to go through the manuscript one more time—because nothing feels better than finding mistakes after it's too late to do anything about it (note sarcasm).  But since I had other work to do as well, rather than read the manuscript the same old way, I decided to have Alex read to me while I worked.
Other Mac users may already be familiar with Alex, but I'd never "met" him before.  For those of you who don't know, Alex is a robotic text-to-speech voice that comes with the more recent Mac OS's that sounds much more natural than previous computerized voices.  He's incredibly easy to use, and you can set up a shortcut so all you have to do is select the text you want him to read and then hit the shortcut, and he'll read it.
I know PC's have some sort of equivalent, because as a teenager on a PC, I used to write joke plays and make all the computer voices act them out.  (Ahh, good times...)  But I haven't used a PC in about five years, so if anyone else knows how to do text-to-speech on a PC these days, feel free to chime in.
Anyway, I was pretty impressed with Alex's reading of Bonds of Death.  The prose flowed better than I expected, and he even got almost all of the characters' names right.  He sounds a little ridiculous when he says "okay" and "yeah," and the dialogue is always hilarious because he's not a good actor, but what he's absolutely wonderful at is helping you find errors you might have missed when reading with your own eyes only—especially if you're editing under a deadline, and into the wee hours of morning when your mind isn't as fresh.
With Alex's help, I caught three dropped words, one duplicate word, one singular word that should have been plural, and two wrong words ("though" instead of "through," "hey" instead of "he").  If I'd had my eyes on the text at the same time he was reading, it probably would have been even more effective—although I hope not, because that would mean the manuscript had even more errors in it.  Of course, now I feel horrible because I didn't catch those errors before submitting the manuscript, but at least I know they're there and can fix them in the edits.
Meanwhile, I've finished the latest round of edits on Art of Death and will likely get a galley proof next.  Although I really combed through that manuscript and don't think there are any errors left, you can bet Alex is going to help me through the galley proof, just to be sure.
(and now, Alex is reading my blog entry before I post it...)

Art of Death - The Cover Reveal

Okay, I deeply apologize for "cockteasing" you guys all week, as it's been said! ^_^  So here it is!  The cover art for Art of Death!  Click here to see it all giant and big!


I occasionally still giggle when I look at this.  I'm like, "Yo, Riley.  Why're you standing around half naked with a bunch of fruit?"  But at the same time, it all makes such perfect sense to me!  Nude model at an art school?  Then yes, this is life.
The first edits are now back with the publisher, and I'm excited at the prospect of soon having a pretty manuscript to go with the (imho) pretty cover!
As mentioned, I plan to do a 12"x18" glossy print giveaway in the next couple months.  Keep an eye on my blog or Facebook page for details in the near future!

Countdown to the Art of Death Cover Reveal! #1

We're down to the last preview before I reveal the Art of Death cover art tomorrow!  As some of you may know, I like to post "ridiculously cropped WIPs" of my cover art in progress.  I think this crop would fall into that category.  I call it, "Would you like an apple to go with that six pack?"

Countdown to the Art of Death Cover Reveal! #2

Holy crap, with the way my workload has been for the past few weeks, I can't believe I'm still alive! :cue melodramatic music:  But I am, so here's another preview of the Art of Death cover!

Yesterday we saw the finished image of Riley's lovely face for the first time.  Today, I'll share a little "behind the scenes" look at painting his face.  I paint in three basic steps - sketch, underpainting, and final painting.  The sketch is pretty self explanatory (although I have to admit it's a little sloppier than usual, since I didn't have to send in a clean and pretty draft for approval this time).  Underpainting is the translucent color, lighting, and shadow I lay in so I can still see the sketch, and the final painting is all the detail work.

There are a lot of painters in Art of Death, and a few scenes that describe the process of oil painting.  I haven't done an oil painting in years, but this story makes me want to grab some oils and play around again - if only I had the time and money!