Announcing a new graphic novel project > I need your input!
I’m planning a new graphic novel project with my co-illustrator Benji Todd and we need your input.
The plan is to release 7 short stories, like the ones I’ve been publishing on this blog, in a graphic novel format. This is sort of my response to the Diary of a Wimpy Kid craze with a darker, hopefully cooler twist, targeted to middle schoolers and up. Here’s a cover concept if we were to publish just the Cinderella Goes to the Potty story on its own (the left half is the back of the book, right half is the front cover). PS, the quotes are fake, including the spelling errors. Hey, now that I mention it, I’d love to feature a real quote from you! I might mine the comments of this post for the quotes on the back cover. 
Do you have any feedback so far? Please leave a comment!
Here are the first eight pages of the graphic novel.
Each image below is a two page spread. The printed version would be a square book, probably about 8″ by 8″. The full short story will be told over 32 pages so the complete novel with 7 short stories will be a little over 200 pages. The layouts are meant to require a little interpretation. Since the whole book could be read in about an hour, I wanted to make each page unique enough that the reader could spend some time figuring out what’s being said with the words and images.
You can click on the images to see them larger.
What do you think so far? Please leave a comment with your feedback.
And finally, at the end of the story, we will show the full image we developed for that short story. This illustration is capturing a moment in time which happens at the end of the short story. Cinderella’s is below.
If you haven’t read it yet, here’s the complete short story for the illustrations above. Look for more on this project in the next few weeks 
Cinderella Goes To the Potty
Cinderella lay in her bed, eyes wide, staring at the splintered ceiling. The stone wall next to her, lit by silver moonlight, was covered with scratches. Cinderella knew exactly how many scratches were on the wall without counting. She made them herself, scratched a new line every night when the clock rang twelve.
999 lines.
Cinderella had always promised herself she would not stay long enough to see 1000.
It was 11:58, two minutes until the clock struck midnight.
Cinderella tried to ignore the howls coming from the forest beyond the creek. Should she attempt to escape through the window, 100 terrifying feet above ground. Or, should she wait for the old man and the old woman to come. They checked on her every night about this time. She could hide behind the door, shove them out the window when their backs were turned.
A scratching sound, like feet on stone, from the other side of her rickety wooden door.
Then a thunk.
Something heavy was being drug up the stairs. Candle light flashed through the gap beneath the door. Voices.
Thunk.
“Hurry,” said the old man in a deep raspy voice. “The Potty is hungry.”
Thunk.
Cinderella crept out of bed and peeked through the keyhole. The old man drug an axe behind him. With each step up the stairs, the bloody axe head clanked on the wooden planks.
“Is the girl fat enough?” said the old woman.
“She’ll have to do. The Potty will eat us if we don’t feed it soon.”
The old woman reached the top of the stairs, fumbling with a rusted ring of keys. Cinderella backed into the shadows. The clock chimed.
Dong.
The handle turned. Cinderella grasped at the wall behind her, looking for something to strike her captors with, but her hand felt only scratches. She climbed up into the window.
Dong.
The door creaked. Cinderella risked a glance down. Her stomach twisted. Her hand, slick with sweat, slipped and she nearly fell backward
Dong.
“She’s getting away!” The old woman yelled.
Dong.
“Grab her, quick,” cried the old man.
But Cinderella was quicker. She stepped out onto a ledge and slid sideways across the face of the tower. The old man crashed through the half open window, shattering the stained glass. He leaned out, head bleeding from a fresh cut, axe in hand. Swinging, his axe flew at Cinderella’s face. She ducked just in time, feeling a whoosh of wind as it struck stone. Sparks showered down into the darkness.
Dong.
“Let her fall,” The old woman said. “The Potty don’t care if she’s breathing.”
Cinderella heard the old man and the old woman clambering down the stairs. Cinderella managed to slide around to the side of the tower where she found thick ivy growing. She used the ivy to rappel down, wondering, after a few minutes, why the old man and the old woman weren’t waiting for her at the base of the tower.
She jumped the last few feet, landing softly in a bed of leaves. Crawling around the base of the tower, she peered through an arched glowing window. A huge tree with eyes and a mouth shaped like a toilet grew through the floor boards. The Potty. Sticking out of the tree’s mouth were two pairs legs. The old man and the old woman.
Cinderella smiled. They meant to feed her to The Potty, but became the meal instead.
But what to do now? She couldn’t stay. No, there was nothing left for her in the tower but the memory of her captors and a carnivorous toilet tree. Were there good potty’s out there in the world somewhere? Kind toilets that don’t eat old men and old women and little girls? Cinderella had to find out.
She dusted off her faded blue dress and turned to the forest. Goosebumps formed on Cinderella’s arm as the sound of howling grew on the air.
A broken sign, creaking in the wind, pointed down a dark, winding path.
Toilet Forrest. 1 Mile.
Cinderella started down the path, stepping carefully to avoid making noise. But the howling grew closer with every step. Coming to a bridge made from an overturned clawfoot tub, she glanced back at the tower, no more than a faint outline on the horizon. Breathing deep, she turned to the forest and crossed the creek, staring up at the dark toilet trees growing tall around her.
Cinderella was going to the potty and there was no going back
I’m giving away a $250 Amazon Shopping Spree and 50 signed copies of Evan Burl and the Falling.
This week’s winner is Heather Miles!
Along with winning a signed copy of Evan Burl and the Falling and Beth Guckenberger’s Tales of the Defended Ones, Heather joins the other semi-finalists in the $250 Amazon gift card giveaway. Claim your prize by emailing
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Watch for my next blog to see if you’ve won. These are some places to read the blog: Facebook, Twitter, in your email, on my website, on Amazon, or on Goodreads.
Check out these posts before they're gone forever
A note on the newest version of Evan Burl, part one and two
The funnel > You know more than you know
The System Is Dead
Xarlie and the Xanthum Gum Factory > An illustrated short story > Isfits Vol. X
