Stephen Graham Jones's Blog, page 252

Werewolves out in the World, Part XI

The trick with this, the eleventh installment of these, it’s figuring how to list the first ten in a way I haven’t done before. Last time I used Def Leppard. Can’t remember what happened before that. Let’s see, let’s see—I know. How about: Also? I could have written a novella in the time it took me to stack all that up. Worth it, though. I dig how it looks. I dig how this looks, too:   And, I heard Tod’s graduation speech. It was solid. Rather, I should say: The truth about his graduation speech, it was that it was solid, in spite of the yellow book:     That book to the left is Monsters, a Love Story? I think I’m in love with that title. Thanks, Scott:     Thanks for nabbing that last one. Also, this is either a freaky shelf or a really clean trashcan or an unfinished chair, yes?     At this resolution/size, and this late in the game, I can finally see that that twitter ‘Compose’ button, it’s a quill, isn’t it? Weird callback. Or, maybe not: is it a feather because Twitter’s logo is a bird? Is the idea that we pluck a feather from the big flying thing, and write for 140 characters? Kind of cool. Anyway, all I meant to say was thanks, Nick:     I can see with great confidence that Mongrels has way less cussing than the Eggert book (reason? not aesthetic or Puritan so much as me, being a really poor cusser—I  . . . → → →

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Building Your Bad Guy

Was just on a panel about villains at Denver ComicCon—actually, my second villains-panel there—and then, just now, I went all the long way down to Alamo Drafthouse to see Footloose on the big screen for the first time in thirty-two years, then listened to the Sir Patrick Stewart episode of The Nerdist on the way back, and . . . it all left me thinking, I guess. About antagonists, and the building of them. It’s Robert McKee who says that, when designing up your story, you always start with the antagonist, right? The antagonist is pretty much the measure of the protagonist, as that’s who the protagonist has to overcome in some fashion, be it swords or brains or dancing or whatever. It makes perfect sense. Also, it works against our storytelling instincts, which are always to some degree role-playing-game instincts . . . kind of, wish-fulfillment, as I see it: I’m going to have a bad Harley and this long shampoo-commercial hair and I’m going to know all these fighting styles and also I’m going to cry about cute kittens and I’m always going to have killer lines and I’m going to be an outlaw but have a heart of gold and I’ll be able to use any weapon pretty much and never run out of gas, and and and: First? There’s nothing wrong with that. I’m the last person to bad-talk RPG, I hope, and the only reason I know so much about Renegade is because it’s still my secret bible. What I’m  . . . → → →

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Green Arrow: Rebirth

Don’t think I’ve ever done a write-up for a single issue of a comic book. But this #1 of Green Arrow / Rebirth—it earns that ‘rebirth.’ First, of course, I didn’t at all see the last Percy arc of Green Arrow going off the rails in any way. I mean, if anybody’s going to appreciate a werewolf-thing happening, right? Mix some Slade in, and I’m jimmying the lock on the local comics shop on Tuesday night. But, this new GA, man. It’s firing on all cylinders. If you’re looking for a solid write-up, this’ll definitely do. As for what so worked for me? I never even realized I had something near a fetish for dialogue balloons without the outline. But, doing it like that, it flattens everything out in a way that’s very cool: This, with the coloring, is doing something kind of . . . kind of like what Hawkeye did when Fraction and Aja were on it. And past them as well, some. It’s a really controlled . . . something, I don’t know. Color-talk always loses me fast. But I know when it works. And it’s working here, double-time, and it’s somehow syncing up with the line-less balloons to make these pages just something to study, and appreciate. Also, I like Ollie looking like the Ollie in my head: Troubled, that signature fancyboy goatee, and something just generally “moneyed” about him, I guess I’d say. Also, my favorite panel/sequence, it’s almost immediate: Why I excise this one to show, it’s . . .  . . . → → →

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The World is Full of Mongrels

That “derogatory” part—man, just search twitter. However, over on instagram (which I hardly know), it’s mostly dog-pics. Looks like “mongrels” is a lot of other things, too: a boot/shoe thing:   a screen protector: a gang in Australia: a band out of Michigan (very cool tracks, too; their fb-page): another band (this one out of Missouri. their fb): a Massachusetts band (fb): a band out of 1968: a band with a track titled “Full Moon Half Moon” (off Attack the Monolith): an independent film distributor (with no easily stolen banner image): an ATV tire that’ll take you anywhere: a British television series (with, I think, foxes . . . mostly?): a pretty cool looking non-werewolf book: there’s . . . whatever this is? (via Mike Hance) a now-playing movie? Nah (that’s a snap from an event I did at the Cocteau Theater, though, which is even cooler). And of course regular listeners already know it’s a t-shirt, a cover story, a local bestseller, a screencap trail, all that. Mostly, of course, it’s a little yellow book, with my heart packed inside:      

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Werewolves out in the World, Part X

“X” as in Jason X, yes. I did love that installment. Jason all chrome, and in space, with the same machete as ever? I can’t even imagine how to imagine that. Luckily I just got to go the movies, see it. Anyway, this may be the longest of these screencap sessions yet. Reason being: been a crazy last few days. Anybody wanting to catch up with the nine rider that came before, here’s the clicks: Gunter Glieben Glauten Globen [ at which point Mutt Lange ceases to be of any help, and we have to fall back on normal/boring numbers . . . ] Five, as in, how many fingers Homer doesn’t have Six, that is, when the REAL Jason comes back to F13 Seven, that being the number-son that’s automagically a werewolf Eight, the butterfly’s favorite number Nine, homophone AND scrambled-up letters for “nien,” which has surely led to many hilarious confusions At which point, let’s go: Truth? You know how, say, a person might write a story about dog-headed people in order to rid himself of the very real fear of a dog-headed human? Purely hyopthetical, here. Like, Sam Waterston-era Law & Order hypothetical. As in, not talking about anybody in this room. In the same way, I thought that if I were to write about yoga pants (which weren’t a thing in the years Mongrels is getting written) and stretch pants and tights and hose and leggings, then maybe, just maybe, it would finally dawn on me, the difference between them all, that my wife  . . . → → →

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StokerCon 2017 GoH

It’s happening ON A SHIP. In CALIFORNIA. I’m THERE, GoH’ing. Click HERE for that.

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Thrills 1 of 12

Werewolves on the beach: definitely; forever; please. No better place to be.

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Me too

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Werewolves out in the World, Part IX

Nine of these already? I think so. I mean, I’m no expert professional seasoned counter or anything, and my roman-numeral-fu maybe isn’t operating at the absolute highest level, but still, here we are, I think. And? Here’s where we’ve been: one werewolf, two werewolves, three werewolves, four. Five werewolves, six werewolves, seven werewolves, and one more.  That’s the thing with werewolves. You think you’ve taken care of them all, and then one’s got your throat in its teeth, is staring you in the eye. But let’s stop with the words, get to images. Well, the images with me talking all over them, like: Dude. At first I thought my eyes were all deceived, but then I refreshed the browser, refreshed my head, checked was I awake, and yep: that’s Mongrels, sharing some page space with STNG.  Be still my beating heart:   Think this mag is the second place that month I showed up alongside Molly Tanzer. Here’s to more and more and always:   Sound effects? Always-always appreciated. Thank you, Ian:   Same here: how to read with a dustjacket on? Somewhere I’ve got a White’s Boots box stuffed to bursting with dustjackets. Used to be the first order of business, after getting a book: peel it from its jacket. But then I started having books come out, and I felt different about them somehow. Like, they weren’t just in the way, they were intrinsically cool. But I still have to take them off for reading. Not only do they get in the way, but they  . . . → → →

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Werewolves out in the World, Part VIII

For anybody just catching this broadcast on the digital shortwave, here’s installments one, two, three, four, five, six, and lucky number slevin. Also? It kind of makes me sad that I had to actually think to title this one—I mean, think to Roman-numeral it Not that “VIII” is hard, or should be, but, man, when I was in elementary, I so prided myself on Roman numerals being on instant-rolodex. And I just now had to thin if “8” went above five or under ten (to my way of thinking).  Guess I’m getting old. It happens, I suppose. Mongrels, though, it’s still young, it’s still out there biting the world: I believe there’ll be an interview coming soon, too, to go along with that write-up. Or: I did do a review. It’ll be live sooner or later. And, wow, big wow: not just to get the Buzzfeed write-up, but to be one of their five picks from May? Amazing-cool. Thank you thank you: And, here’s one of my editors wearing the RedBubble/trailer version of the Mongrels shirt, by Figbar Lonesome. Looks sharp, yes? So excellent. Mongrels in Austinland. I know Kareem, too, and, since I strongly suspect he only hangs out with cool people, then I’m glad that Mongrels is finding the cool people: This is the dream, pretty much. To spread a blanket over the world, and have there be an image of a werewolf on the top side of that blanket: I know there’s not that many Joneses in the world, or on Twitter—what I’m saying is  . . . → → →

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