Cullen Bunn's Blog, page 44

Shelf Elves and Fatherhood

This is a typical conversation between my son, Jackson, and me… this one concerning Chip, our Elf on the Shelf. (If you're not familiar with an Elf on the Shelf, it's essentially a creepy-looking elf doll who sits on–you guessed it–a shelf in your house. He watches over your child and reports to Santa every night. When your child sleeps, the elf "moves" to another place in the house, so the kiddos have the fun of finding him every morning.) Anywho, apparently the elf frustrates my son a bit… or maybe it's me…

Me:  Where's Chip?

Jackson:  He's out there.

Me:   Are you sure?

Jackson:  He's gone!

Me: You haven't even looked. How can you be sure he's gone?

Jackson: Idiot! Idiot! Dammit!

Now, I know I'm not supposed to laugh, but it's hard to keep from chuckling at his attitude. Yes, he heard those words from me, so I only have myself to blame. He's two, and I think he'll be giving his teachers Hell in a couple of years.

Everything I Know, I Learned From Road House

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I get a lot of trouble for my love of the 1989 Patrick Swayze movie, Road House. I've watched the movie dozens of times and, unlike some "better" movies, it never gets old. I contend that Road House, despite its humble origins as an ass-kicking action flick, is chock-full of valuable life lessons. After all, Dalton is a "fighting philosopher," so you should expect to learn a thing or two every time this bad boy comes on Starz. This year, I decided to make the movie part of a new Thanksgiving tradition. As I watched, I tracked some of the lessons I thought might be worth remembering. From the very first line to the last, parables abound.

Here ya go…

"It's not what you say, it's what you do. Don't throw stones."
 You can look bad-ass on the dance floor if you nod your head slowly in time with the music while looking around with Terminator-like intensity.
Men, you will almost never look bad-ass if you take off your shirt and gyrate around the room wearing your boot-cut jeans and your shit-kickers.
 Sometimes, what seems like a sweet deal turns into "the kind of place where people sweep up eyeballs after closing."
You can beautify graffiti by changing an "F" to a "B" and adding an "i".
 Always get your cash in advance.  "I ain't got twenty bucks!"
 Don't park your Mercedes in the open if you're gonna make a habit of pissing people off… And always buy extra tires.
 Don't expect people to believe you when you tell them you're honest.
 "Calling me 'sir' is like putting an elevator in an outhouse. It don't belong."
 Ain't it peculiar how money seems to keep you in the good graces of the church?
 People who really want to have a good time won't come to a slaughterhouse.
 Never underestimate your opponent. Take it outside. Be nice… Until it is time to not be nice.
 It'll always get worse before it gets better.
 Don't ever marry an ugly woman. It takes the energy right out of you.
 Punk-asses almost always draw knives. I'd rather get my ass whooped up and down the street than draw a knife in what should be a fair fight.
 Pain don't hurt.
 Nobody ever wins a fight.
 It's amazing the kind of trouble you can get used to.
 Some people are too stupid to have a good time.
 You meet the biggest guy in the world, you smash his knee and he'll drop like a stone.
 The people who go looking for trouble are not much of a problem for someone who's ready for trouble.
 Some "dogs" won't hunt… And sometimes you just have to cut the past loose.
" When a man sticks a gun in your face, you've got two choices. You can die or you can kill the motherfucker."
 You'll get all the sleep you need when you're dead.
 If you're gonna have a pet, keep it on a leash.
 The phrase "Prepare to die!" only works in a certain kind of story, and this is one of them.
 You can only be an asshole for so long before a bunch of old dudes shoot you and send you flying through a glass top coffee table.
 "I didn't see anything. Did you?" is a perfectly acceptable alibi in almost any situation.
 Sometimes, a polar bear is gonna fall on you. It's best to just laugh about it.

Giving Thanks 2010

Wow! Three years of not being bitchy about the things I have to be thankful for? I know what many of you are thinking. What have I done with the Cullen you know and love? But I've been trying (with a few minor hiccups) to be a more positive guy for years now. There's so little use in focusing on negatives and, frankly, it's been a pretty great year!

The list is a little shorter this year, mainly because I'm not going to repeat the things I was thankful for in 2008 and 2009. I'm still — and always will be — thankful for those blessings, but today is for the things that are top of mind.

This year, I'm thankful for…

My wife and son. Cindy and I started dating 9 years ago yesterday. Just last night we were thinking about how, on that first date, we could have never imagined where our lives would take us. We could have never imagined that we'd travel to China to get our son, Jackson, or that he'd be the coolest little dude walking the earth.
Speaking of Jackson, I'm thankful the surgery he endured early in the year went well and that he has completely recovered.
My family. I was able to visit with my family a couple of times this year, both in North Carolina and in Missouri. I don't get to see them anywhere near as often as I like, and I miss them terribly. I'm going to make a point of visiting them as much as possible in the next year. And a special happy birthday to my mom! Raise a glass of buttermilk and cornbread in her honor!
My friends and colleagues who have been very supportive of my writing career. I don't want to list specific names because I'll almost certainly miss someone, but there have been a number of professional creators who have helped me make connections and get work. They've made introductions to editors, collaborated on projects, and promoted my work. In short, they rock.
The overwhelming reader response for The Sixth Gun. The book means a lot to me, and I'm thrilled people are digging it!

Happy Trail(er)s!

Check out the new trailer for The Sixth Gun! This awesome bit of video was created by talented author (and trailer-maker) John Hornor.

In my 40 years, I have…

(This is an addendum to my posts around this time in 2008 and 2009. New information is in blue.)





Helped my son go through some major surgery. Seeing a two-year-old go through that kind of ordeal is not fun, but he bounced back like a trooper!
Seen the publication of the first six issues of my ongoing supernatural western series, The Sixth Gun.
 Had the distinct pleasure of collaborating with Brian Hurtt, Shawn Lee, Matt Kindt, Dan Brereton, Tom Fowler, ChrisCross, Chris Samnee, Francesco Francavilla, Drew Moss, Matteo Scalera, Jeremy Haun, Shane Clester, and Jared Souza on a number of comic book projects.
Written several comics for Marvel and DC, including Immortal Weapons #2, Deadpool Team-up #888, some Deadpool short stories, and an upcoming arc of Superman/Batman. The editors I've been working with have been great, and owe each and every one of them a great deal.
Developed several new properties–including The Tooth and Crooked Hills–that will see publication in 2011.
Grossed an artist out (sorry, Francesco!) with a script entitled La Cucaracha!
Started working with Writers of the Round Table and SmarterComics to adapt bestselling business and self-help books to graphic novel format.
Entered and won the Gross-Out Contest five times (four times at the World Horror Convention, once at VisionCon).  Favorite first sentence: "When she started puking, I didn't know if I should fetch a bucket or keep frenching her."
Tried to be the best husband and father I can be… knowing that I can always try harder and do better.
Completed the lengthy process to adopt our son, Jackson. He joined our family in September of 2009.
Wrote the greatest horror comic script of all time–The Hollows–and had to come to grips with the notion that it will likely never be published.
Worked with Universal Studios and Sony on a couple of film projects.
Published The Damned: Three Days Dead and The Damned: Prodigal Sons with Oni Press.
Have been obsessed with (at various times) Star Wars, Matchbox cars, Micronauts, Shogun Warriors, comic books, Dungeons & Dragons, professional wrestling, military surplus, paintball, G. I. Joe, Red Dawn, and Godzilla.
Performed as "the world's youngest hypnotist."  My signature trick?  Having subjects attempt to smoke carrots.  Hilarity!
Wrote and illustrated 9 issues of X-Laser Knights Comics when I was in fifth grade.  I no longer have copies of those comics around, but — trust me — they rocked.  The X-Laser Knights (starring me) fought aliens and robots and "grogs" and medusa.  That's right.  Medusa.
Wrote and illustrated Fatman and Captain Cosmo comics when I was in eighth grade.  I still have a couple of copies of those around.
Almost ground my left hand to a stump on a machine shop jointer.  As far as scars go, it's not the only one I have, but it's the worst.  To this day I'm terrified of power tools.
Amassed (and then sold) a HUGE comic collection, including every issue ofUncanny X-Men, Amazing Fantasy #15, and Spiderman #1 (God, I miss that collection).
Have lived in houses ranging from mansions to hovels (with a house in Koshkonong, Missouri sporting a fair market value of around $5,000).
Was attacked by a cougar at age 18.  You might wonder who won the fight.  It was a draw.
Met some great friends over the years.  I've lost more than I probably should have.  Some I miss terribly.
Wanted to be a firefighter, DEA agent, comic book writer and artist, Navy pilot, used bookstore owner, photojournalist, private investigator, special effects make-up artist, game designer, and teacher.  I also wanted to drive around the country in a Winnebago and fight crime.
Held jobs including door-to-door sales, short order cook, retail clerk, and sports section editor.
Was named Vice President of Marketing with my current employer.
Learned to make the world's greatest margarita … not from a recipe, but from instinct.
Earned my degree in Creative Writing from Missouri State University.
Founded Undaunted Press and published more than 25 micro-press titles, including the magazine Whispers from the Shattered Forum (which I edited).
Published around 40 short stories, mostly in small press magazines.  My favorite, by far, is "Remains," published in  Like a Chinese Tattoo .
Wrote articles for Fangoria and White Wolf.
Wrote a middle reader horror novel entitled Crooked Hills.
Had  The Damned optioned by Dreamworks.
Married Cindy, who offers me more love and support than I could have ever hoped for.
Watched 40 years go by in the blink of an eye.

In my 40 years, I have…

(This is an addendum to my posts around this time in 2008 and 2009. New information is in blue.)





Helped my son go through some major surgery. Seeing a two-year-old go through that kind of ordeal is not fun, but he bounced back like a trooper!
Seen the publication of the first six issues of my ongoing supernatural western series, The Sixth Gun.
 Had the distinct pleasure of collaborating with Brian Hurtt, Shawn Lee, Matt Kindt, Dan Brereton, Tom Fowler, ChrisCross, Chris Samnee, Matteo Scalera, Jeremy Haun, and Jared Souza on a number of comic book projects.
Written several comics for Marvel and DC, including Immortal Weapons #2, Deadpool Team-up #888, some Deadpool short stories, and an upcoming arc of Superman/Batman. The editors I've been working with have been great, and owe each and every one of them a great deal.
Developed several new properties–including The Tooth and Crooked Hills–that will see publication in 2011.
Started working with Writers of the Round Table and SmarterComics to adapt bestselling business and self-help books to graphic novel format.
Entered and won the Gross-Out Contest five times (four times at the World Horror Convention, once at VisionCon).  Favorite first sentence: "When she started puking, I didn't know if I should fetch a bucket or keep frenching her."
Tried to be the best husband and father I can be… knowing that I can always try harder and do better.
Completed the lengthy process to adopt our son, Jackson. He joined our family in September of 2009.
Wrote the greatest horror comic script of all time–The Hollows–and had to come to grips with the notion that it will likely never be published.
Worked with Universal Studios and Sony on a couple of film projects.
Published The Damned: Three Days Dead and The Damned: Prodigal Sons with Oni Press.
Have been obsessed with (at various times) Star Wars, Matchbox cars, Micronauts, Shogun Warriors, comic books, Dungeons & Dragons, professional wrestling, military surplus, paintball, G. I. Joe, Red Dawn, and Godzilla.
Performed as "the world's youngest hypnotist."  My signature trick?  Having subjects attempt to smoke carrots.  Hilarity!
Wrote and illustrated 9 issues of X-Laser Knights Comics when I was in fifth grade.  I no longer have copies of those comics around, but — trust me — they rocked.  The X-Laser Knights (starring me) fought aliens and robots and "grogs" and medusa.  That's right.  Medusa.
Wrote and illustrated Fatman and Captain Cosmo comics when I was in eighth grade.  I still have a couple of copies of those around.
Almost ground my left hand to a stump on a machine shop jointer.  As far as scars go, it's not the only one I have, but it's the worst.  To this day I'm terrified of power tools.
Amassed (and then sold) a HUGE comic collection, including every issue ofUncanny X-Men, Amazing Fantasy #15, and Spiderman #1 (God, I miss that collection).
Have lived in houses ranging from mansions to hovels (with a house in Koshkonong, Missouri sporting a fair market value of around $5,000).
Was attacked by a cougar at age 18.  You might wonder who won the fight.  It was a draw.
Met some great friends over the years.  I've lost more than I probably should have.  Some I miss terribly.
Wanted to be a firefighter, DEA agent, comic book writer and artist, Navy pilot, used bookstore owner, photojournalist, private investigator, special effects make-up artist, game designer, and teacher.  I also wanted to drive around the country in a Winnebago and fight crime.
Held jobs including door-to-door sales, short order cook, retail clerk, and sports section editor.
Was named Vice President of Marketing with my current employer.
Learned to make the world's greatest margarita … not from a recipe, but from instinct.
Earned my degree in Creative Writing from Missouri State University.
Founded Undaunted Press and published more than 25 micro-press titles, including the magazine Whispers from the Shattered Forum (which I edited).
Published around 40 short stories, mostly in small press magazines.  My favorite, by far, is "Remains," published in  Like a Chinese Tattoo .
Wrote articles for Fangoria and White Wolf.
Wrote a middle reader horror novel entitled Crooked Hills.
Had  The Damned optioned by Dreamworks.
Married Cindy, who offers me more love and support than I could have ever hoped for.
Can hardly believe 40 years have gone by in the blink of an eye.

 

 

Superman/Batman – Sorcerer Kings

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Beginning in February, I take over DC's Superman/Batman series for four issues. I don't want to say too much about the arc, but it's allowed me to take on at least five of the things I want to do in comics before I die. The fun begins with issue 81!

"Sorcerer Kings" part 1 of 4! Who is that weird Batman on the cover? What has happened to the Earth's sun? And how is it all connected to the mysterious armored figure that Shadowpact discovers in an abandoned factory outside Metropolis? Writer Cullen Bunn (The Sixth Gun) and artist ChrisCross (FIRESTORM) launch Superman and Batman on an utterly epic journey – one that will leave no corner of the DCU untouched!

Art by CHRISCROSS & MARC DEERING

Cover by TRAVEL FOREMAN

On sale FEBRUARY 16 * 32 pg, FC, $2.99 US

Updates!

Here are a few of the things you might've missed if you haven't been paying attention…

Interviews

Time is becoming more and more precious every day (see my post sometime next week), but I still like to do interviews whenever I can… 

Bloody Disgusitng posted a lengthy video interview, during which I drink beer and talk about horror movies.
On Comic Book Resources, I talk about Deadpools and Sixth Guns.

The Sixth Gun

The end of the first story arc (subtitled "Cold Dead Fingers") is drawing to a close. The sixth issue comes out on Wednesday, November 17th. It features 12 additional pages of art and story at no additional cost. It also features one of the most intense battles ever, so I hope you check it out. The second arc starts with issue seven next month, and the first volume of the trade paperback comes out in January!
A few reviews of the series have been popping up, and here are links to what people are saying about the book:

Behold The Geek! gives The Sixth Gun #5 a whopping 6 out of 5 stars!
Newsarama presents The Sixth Gun #5 as balm for scorched corneas!
A trio of hombres weigh in on issue 5 over at Floppytown!
Dynamic Forces illustrates how we're luring Australians into the Western genre!


On his blog, awesome artist Jason Latour revealed the bio portraits he did of Brian and me for the trade paperback, and I don't hate him even a little bit.

Crooked Hills

Evileye Books has revealed some of their plans for my all-ages horror series, Crooked Hills. You can read the first chapter and order the limited edition hardcover right now!

Shut Up, Stop Whining and Get a Life!

The first of the books I adapted for Smarter Coimics, Larry Winget's Shut Up, Stop Whining & Get a Life is now available electronically!

Other Fiction

Halloween has come and gone, but you can still read a new Mrs. Friedly story on Robot 666.
Part 10 of Countless Haints has finally been posted!
"Blood Feud: A Vampire Yarn… With Spiders" is now available for the Kindle… and for less than a buck, too.

Countless Haints (Part 10)

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Madi knew those woods just as well as she knew her own bedroom. She'd been exploring the wilds all her life—the hollows where she chased squirrels, the muddy swimming holes where she cooled off on hot days, the brooks where she skipped stones on lazy afternoons—but the places she knew seemed a distant memory. Now—in the dark… with her father chasing her… with her father possibly wanting to kill her—nothing seemed familiar.

The ground dipped and rolled, and Madi tripped through the thickets as she pressed on at a breakneck speed. The darkness was as thick and syrupy as tree sap, and the sweet smell of honeysuckle was redolent of decaying funeral wreaths. She crossed a fallen, moss-covered tree and skirted a dry, winding creek bed. She wasn't sure where exactly she was heading. She only knew that she had to get away… away from her father and all the other men and women who had gathered under the blight-ridden oak tree to proclaim her a witch and decide her fate.

"The girl must die," they had said.

Hearing movement in the brush behind her, Madi quickly hunkered down behind a tree trunk to spy the source of the sound. Peering out from around the tree trunk, she saw nothing. But she knew that someone—something—scrabbled through the woods after her. She heard the snap of breaking twigs, the rustle of something passing through the underbrush, a stirring among the branches.

In the satchel at her side, the boy's skin squirmed and wriggled as if wanting to crawl out on its own.

Madi clutched the bag tight, and the boy's hide grew still.

She waited, holding her breath, watching.

Whatever it was, it loped through the woods in a kind of herky-jerky gait, stopping and keeping still for several seconds at a time, then lurching forward without caution. Something about its movement reminded Madi of a spider, lying in wait upon its web, still as death in anticipation of a fly crossing its path, then pouncing with ruthless speed.

Not her Pa…

At least, she didn't believe so.

Whatever followed her, it moved like an animal—like a predator tracking prey.

And then, just as she thought she might have spotted a shadowy form moving through the brambles, the sound stopped. The forest was still once more. Madi's eyes darted back and forth as she tried to once again discern the strange, crouched shape she had seen just seconds earlier. Whatever she had seen—or imagined she had seen—it was gone now. Shadows rushed in like black, freezing water to obscure Madi's vision.

She was alone.

"Not… alone…"

The voice, little more than a feeble hiss, came from the satchel, from the skin within.

"I know," Madi said. "I know. You're here, too, for all the good it does me."

"Not alone."

She wondered if maybe it was the boy's skinless body that was following her through the forest. The thought did little to comfort her.

Knowing her Pa was somewhere out there, maybe not too far behind her, Madi didn't wait long before setting out again. She knew he'd find her soon enough. Pa was an excellent hunter and tracker. He'd find her trail if he hadn't done so already, and—

Startled by a sudden commotion, birds—sparrows and towhee—erupted out of the brush and took flight through the darkness. Something crashed through the trees. At first, Madi thought her father had found and was leaping through the foliage to grab her up. She realized soon enough, though, that the sound was moving away from her.

"Not alone," the boy's skin rasped once more.

"That was you," Madi said to the haint, "wasn't it? I mean, it was the other you. And it's making another trail for Pa to follow. It's covering my tracks."

The haint released a rasping sigh.

"Hhhhhhhh…"

"How did you… how did it know what I was thinking? How did it know I was worried about Pa tracking me?"

But the haint did not respond.

Confused and frustrated, Madi set out through the woods once more. Her surroundings grew more and more strange, more foreboding. The air smelled of rich, earthworm-ridden soil freshly turned for a crop, but Madi couldn't imagine anything wholesome growing in this place. The trees were tall and twisted and clustered together in gnarled tangles, the trunks knotted with fat, black growths and veined with pale vines.

She moved past the trees the way a small child might move through a room full of tall strangers. She watched the them nervously, as if she feared they might reach out, snatch her up, and rip her to bits with their gnarly branches.

Her foot struck something hard, and she tripped, sprawling to the ground. The fall knocked the wind from her lungs, and it took her a moment to recover. She pushes herself up and brushed her hands clean. She looked to the ground, and saw a chunk of white rock jutting up out of the leaves and pine straw. Turning, she realized she had entered a small clearing, and she saw dozens of taller stones all around.

"Not alone," the boy's skin hissed. 

Dozens of grave markers stood before her.

She had stumbled into a cemetery.

Happy Halloween 2010 – The Best Costumes Are Homemade

For the past few years, I've posted a short Halloween story featuring kindly old Mrs. Friedly. This year, Robot 666 has been running the previous stories, and today they are featuring a brand new tale. Give it a read here if you're in the mood for some Halloween fun.