flannel animal

Doll #38
Frank Reynolds, It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia

Finally getting back to some paper dolls.  Sorry for the severe lack of any lately! Here’s Frank to help almost complete your Always Sunny set.  And lastly but certainly not least, Sweet Dee will come very soon. Enjoy!

“Are you kidding me? It’s insane that civil rights are being denied people in this day and age. It’s embarrassing, and it’s heartbreaking. It goes without saying that I’m completely in support of gay marriage. In 10 years we’ll be ashamed that this was an issue.” - Chris Evans, The Avengers

I’m not sure who said it, but I heard someone say recently that when it comes to the issue of same-sex rights, it’s never well-respected forward-thinkers on the opposing side.  Of course, there are exceptions, but for the most part it’s never people who have given us great art or ideas like Steve Jobs, Oprah, Jon Stewart, Weird Al, etc… This is definitely a very generalized statement, but I think it holds true (again, with some exceptions).  All the people I look up to for other reasons, whether for their art or the way they view the world,  tend to turn out to be the same logical people that are for equal rights for the gay community.  I’ve known for a while where I stand on the subject, but I’m comforted when I look around to see who’s in my same camp.  Whether you like Barack Obama or not, it’s hard to argue with Captain America.  

One of the more magical things in my life is that anytime I’m home on a Saturday evening, during that weird time between 4 and 7, Waiting seems to be on Comedy Central.  Like something predestined, it’s always on right when I need it.  Possibly my favorite feel-good movie for many reasons, I don’t think I’ll ever make the commitment to buy it.  No, I’d rather live my life on the edge of a knife, living by faith that it will be on once every other month for the rest of my life.  God bless you, Shenanigans.  

paulftompkins:

Thank you for everything, Mr. Sendak.

jujukitten:

RIP Maurice Sendak (June 10, 1928 – May 8, 2012).

A beautiful, incredibly grumpy man.  Several months ago I caught an interview with him on Fresh Air, and I was so moved by it.  He spoke about his thoughts on dying, and more importantly, his fear of losing those he loved.  He just spoke so honestly and even openly cried during the interview, and wasn’t too proud to appear vulnerable.  It really stuck with me.

mscotter83:

Birthday Gifts!!!!!

My awesome friend Kyle made me quite possibly my favorite paper doll he has ever made, Stephanie Brown, he also said he’s going to do a Robin as well, wether it’s Red Robin to match or if it’s a Robin costume for Stephanie that’s up to him. Even if he doesn’t do it, I’m happy with this. Also my awesome roommate Mark gave me a ticket to watch The Avengers yesterday. Best Birthday ever!

This isn’t an official part of any new doll set or anything, but thought it could get a post nonetheless! Made this Batgirl cut-out for a good friend on his birthday.  It’s his favorite character, and now one of mine as well.

Here’s some new illustrations I did for Vulture this week.  It’s the big 5 ensemble summer movies as they would have fit in in high school.  This one for Woody Allen’s To Rome With Love is my favorite, I think.  Check out the rest here!

Concepts by Kyle Buchanan, Illustrations by Kyle Hilton (me)

Thoughts on Self-Publishing

I was just listening to a new episode of a podcast, with a sci-fi writer talking about his growing empire of self-published books and graphic novels.  He talked about how the publishing industry is changing and if you get rejected by a publisher, he suggests you should just go self-publish your stuff anyway and see how it’s received.  This makes a lot of sense, as we do live in a world where there’s so many cool things that are made because creators now have the tools to share them.  But I can’t help but think that traditional publishing models serve a purpose of keeping the quality of books that are widely distributed high.  I think it’s almost essential in creating good writers or artists for making the process somewhat exclusive.  When I pick up a book and see a Random House logo or a Picador logo, there’s a certain level of trust that whoever wrote this book has gone through a lot to deserve such publication, and the work itself will reflect that.  

When I was in college a friend and I put together a children’s book that we thought was just pure genius.  It was called Roger’s Thesaurus (pictured above), about a boy who finds an old stegosaurus working in his public library.  We slaved over it for an entire semester and it took me forever to do the artwork.  I mean we thought it was the best thing we’d ever seen, and there’s no way a publisher wouldn’t snap it up.  It would surely sell a million copies.  So we sent it to a ton of publishers who we thought it may work for, a ton of agents, and every one sent back a rejection letter.  So we ended up just printing it ourselves and sold like 10 copies to friends.  It was great to still be able to make it and distribute it just because we loved making it, but we self-published mainly out of an arrogance that our work needed to be published, when in all reality we were oblivious to the fact it wasn’t all that great.  Getting rejected was really important to me.  It showed me that there’s a certain level of quality that my work just wasn’t reaching.  And I think that’s so important.  To say, “oh, this is great stuff, I’ve definitely arrived” when it’s really not and you really haven’t, doesn’t make you a better writer/artist.  You need to get rejected and you need the harsh reality of comparing your work to high quality, professionally published work.  That’s the moment that you need to put your head back down and try harder, and many, many years later when you’re work has inevitably improved, you can re-submit your stuff.  Because if you (or I for that matter) ever do get accepted for professional publication, there will be no doubt that it’s because your work is actually good.  That’s the hope I have for my own work, but I know that I’ll only get there by being told every now and then “you’re not there yet”.

“Its not that the darkness can’t touch our lives I know it will in time…”

- September, The Shins

It’s been too long since I’ve felt comfortable settling in with a novel.  I spent the better part of last year reading non-stop, devouring story structures and trying to grasp at what modern fiction feels like.  Most of the novels I like reading are the kinds of well-reviewed, at first glance “uppity” kinds of novels, with sentences that go on for days and the author hardly ever opting for just a ‘she said’ after a line of dialogue (sometimes they should).  The plots of the writing I really love are always the same: almost non-existent.  But they’re so alive with real life turmoil and the dual excitement/un-excitement of everyday life and relationships.  If a story is about a middle-aged middle-class person going through a mid-life crisis, I’m there.  If the settings are shopping malls, moderately-nice homes, bookstores and restaraunts, I’m floored.  Maybe it’s reading about the same exact world I live in that makes my own day-to-day life, which is either spent working inside at a desk or running errands to the same five places, seem more like something out of a novel.  

Novels like the one I’m reading now (pictured above) provide a weird balance of escape into another world and a reflection of where I am.  Every novel I’ve ever read that’s impacted me I can remember exactly where I was when I read it.  Kavalier and Clay in the library as a junior in college, buying White Teeth at a Salt Lake City Barnes and Nobleduring a cross-country drive two years ago, Then We Came to The End while my wife and I waited for her mom to get out of some minor surgery (poor timing, probably), The Fortress of Solitude in a really comfortable chair at a Borders on an early college break.  Just seeing the spines of these books on my shelf lets me trace back the years spent reading.  More than that, re-reading a book paints a picture of the distance between how I used to see the world then and how i see it now.  In this way, novels can be comforting, they can slow down time and act as bookmarks in my life.  But most of all the really good ones serve to break me in some way.  Lately, I’ve enjoyed a hiatus from reading, thinking about just surface-level things for much of this early part of the year.  Working crazy hours, through the night because the silence of sleeping is too conducive to heavy thoughts sometimes.  I’ve been almost nervous to start a new book, knowing it’s just going to show me just how inevitably messy life is, and start the unraveling this really well-organized system of not thinking I’ve created for myself.  I spend a lot of time trying to convince myself how to think on a daily basis, choosing carefully what things to think about, and usually it keeps me safe, avoiding the risk of feeling any kind of darkness.  But, of course, that can keep you from feeling anything at all.  But it’s different now.  I’m slowly losing that fear.  It’s small steps, mostly, but novels are good practice.  For me, a good author can in many ways take my hand and lead me through all the messiness and show me something beautiful.  And I guess it’s worth the risk.    

Four-day vacation starts now! Well, not really a vacation, but tonight marks the conclusion of what ended up a very intense month of work, working straight through most nights and every weekend just about.  I got a lot done, almost two months worth of work, and now I’m exhausted.  So I’m taking the next four days as sort of a sabbatical, to recharge some, but also to focus on one really special project.  It’s a dream gig that I’m really hoping pans out (if it does, I’ll be able to share it here), so I’m taking the next few days to just obsess over my “audition” work for it and fine-tune it as much as humanly possible.  

But that’s the rest of the week.  Tonight, I shall merely dine and Time.

Any of you guys like food? Any of you guys like blogs? Any of you guys like incredible writing? If you like any of those things, and especially if you like ALL THREE, you should check out Southern Belly , the food writing blog of a Southern boy living in Portland.  He’s a good, good friend of mine and he’s celebrating his 100th posted work this week!