Well, I know what I've been told. You gotta know just when to fold. But I can't do this all on my own. No, I know I'm no Superman.
- Lazlo Bane, "Superman"
"The Computer Wore Fuck-Me Pumps"
Sorry. No "Songblog II" today.
Granny felt that the computer's been running a little slow, so she took it to this computer guy she knows. My suspicion is that some nefarious person -- someone possibly in league with the Rum Bandit -- probably picked up some spyware while perusing unsavory websites. So the computer was gone for about a week, then when we got it back, I couldn't get on line because there was a new password. And on the day I finally got the password, a transformer blew up [Although Megatron has killed you, we'll continue, we'll continue] and we lost power for the rest of the day. And I'm working 48 hours at Target this week. You do the math.
Anyhoozle, I'm back. Sorry if I haven't e-mailed you back. Even sorrier if I never seem to e-mail you at all. In the time since last we spoke, I met a girl from Montana, met another girl who actually reads comic books, went to my first Broadway show, hit a comic convention, set aside my teeming hatred of Bendis, and had the ivory fowl of hypocrisy alight upon my shoulder once more. You know. The usual crap.
"Return of the Rum Bandit"
And speaking of the Rum Bandit, he made his post-Lent return on Tueday night. At least, we think it was him. He didn't take any rum this time around, so we may be looking at a copy cat burglar. A simple Whiskey Thief.
...
Alcohol is like that really good friend who likes to tell embarassing stories about you in mixed company just to see what happens. Wait. Can anyone relate to that simile, or am I the only person who's got friends like that?
"Yeah, but Bernstein Totally Bombed It"
I have received and graded J Dubs' test, and while he didn't beat Prewitt's score of 39, he did take the new second place with a score of 28. Congratulations, Woody! Your prize is in the mail just like everybody elses.
"Big Apple Con Confidential"
I went to the Big Apple Comic Convention on Friday. My goals were three fold:
1) Pick up a copy of Adrian Tomine's "32 Stories"
2) Get Alex Maleev to autograph a copy of Daredevil #71
3) Talk to some editors
I failed in every single one of those tasks.
First off, the only Tomine collection I found at the place was a copy of "Summer Blonde" with a tear in the jacket. (I did, however, stop by Midtown Comics on the way back to the bus station, where I found "Sleepwalk and Other Stories.")
Secondly, Maleev rescheduled his appearance for the September convention. I did pass by Ultimate Spider-Man artist Mark Bagley, as well as Jim Lee and even watched "Teenagers from Mars" writer Rick Spears sit at his booth all alone and unloved. And I followed Brian Azarello out the door on my way home and watched him light up cigarette. I totally should have tried to bum one off him as if I didn't know who he was. Totally worth the blackened lungs to the extreme.
Oh, and there were no editors there at all. That's okay. I already know one...
"Aspiring Spider-Man Writer No More"
I write a weekly column for comicfoundry.com called "Failing Up" -- or at least, I used to. I kind of missed my last two deadlines due to this computer crap. Hope I didn't get fired. Nothing more demoralizing than getting fired from a volunteer gig. Nothing.
Anyway, it's called "Failing Up" because when I told Prewitt about how I couldn't be an intern at Marvel, but was planning on trying to pitch a Spider-Man Unlimited story, he said it was like this thing Kevin Smith says on the Evening with Kevin Smith DVD about how in Hollywood you kind of fail up, and I was hoping that the same thing could be true for me and the comic book industry.
All this to say that the upward failure streak continues. My Spidey Unlimited pitches were rejected (although apparantly, one of them was in the running for a pretty healthy stretch). Despite this, my contact at Marvel seems to feel that I should continue to pursue my chosen career (and hearing that from an actual editor is just the ego boost I've needed over the last couple of months) and has even asked me what Marvel character I would most want to write in a single comic book.
I am still debating my answer. I used to need a two-thirds majority vote from the assembled FARC desk attendants on duty to decide whether or not to get a cupcake or a Cherry coke from the vending machine. How can I be expected to choose one character out of the entire Marvel Universe on my own in under a week?
Oh yeah. I'm totally jazzed.
"More Fodder for the Clark-Needs-A-Life File"
Speaking of being jazzed, don't even get me started on Friday's premiere of the Kim Possible movie.
Trust me. It's best for all involved.
NEXT:
"Songblog II: The OC Mix"
AND COMING SOON:
"Decalogue"
"Video Killed the Radio Star"
"37 Life Lessons from Spider-Man 2"
"On Target"
"Songblog for Silverman"
- Lazlo Bane, "Superman"
"The Computer Wore Fuck-Me Pumps"
Sorry. No "Songblog II" today.
Granny felt that the computer's been running a little slow, so she took it to this computer guy she knows. My suspicion is that some nefarious person -- someone possibly in league with the Rum Bandit -- probably picked up some spyware while perusing unsavory websites. So the computer was gone for about a week, then when we got it back, I couldn't get on line because there was a new password. And on the day I finally got the password, a transformer blew up [Although Megatron has killed you, we'll continue, we'll continue] and we lost power for the rest of the day. And I'm working 48 hours at Target this week. You do the math.
Anyhoozle, I'm back. Sorry if I haven't e-mailed you back. Even sorrier if I never seem to e-mail you at all. In the time since last we spoke, I met a girl from Montana, met another girl who actually reads comic books, went to my first Broadway show, hit a comic convention, set aside my teeming hatred of Bendis, and had the ivory fowl of hypocrisy alight upon my shoulder once more. You know. The usual crap.
"Return of the Rum Bandit"
And speaking of the Rum Bandit, he made his post-Lent return on Tueday night. At least, we think it was him. He didn't take any rum this time around, so we may be looking at a copy cat burglar. A simple Whiskey Thief.
...
Alcohol is like that really good friend who likes to tell embarassing stories about you in mixed company just to see what happens. Wait. Can anyone relate to that simile, or am I the only person who's got friends like that?
"Yeah, but Bernstein Totally Bombed It"
I have received and graded J Dubs' test, and while he didn't beat Prewitt's score of 39, he did take the new second place with a score of 28. Congratulations, Woody! Your prize is in the mail just like everybody elses.
"Big Apple Con Confidential"
I went to the Big Apple Comic Convention on Friday. My goals were three fold:
1) Pick up a copy of Adrian Tomine's "32 Stories"
2) Get Alex Maleev to autograph a copy of Daredevil #71
3) Talk to some editors
I failed in every single one of those tasks.
First off, the only Tomine collection I found at the place was a copy of "Summer Blonde" with a tear in the jacket. (I did, however, stop by Midtown Comics on the way back to the bus station, where I found "Sleepwalk and Other Stories.")
Secondly, Maleev rescheduled his appearance for the September convention. I did pass by Ultimate Spider-Man artist Mark Bagley, as well as Jim Lee and even watched "Teenagers from Mars" writer Rick Spears sit at his booth all alone and unloved. And I followed Brian Azarello out the door on my way home and watched him light up cigarette. I totally should have tried to bum one off him as if I didn't know who he was. Totally worth the blackened lungs to the extreme.
Oh, and there were no editors there at all. That's okay. I already know one...
"Aspiring Spider-Man Writer No More"
I write a weekly column for comicfoundry.com called "Failing Up" -- or at least, I used to. I kind of missed my last two deadlines due to this computer crap. Hope I didn't get fired. Nothing more demoralizing than getting fired from a volunteer gig. Nothing.
Anyway, it's called "Failing Up" because when I told Prewitt about how I couldn't be an intern at Marvel, but was planning on trying to pitch a Spider-Man Unlimited story, he said it was like this thing Kevin Smith says on the Evening with Kevin Smith DVD about how in Hollywood you kind of fail up, and I was hoping that the same thing could be true for me and the comic book industry.
All this to say that the upward failure streak continues. My Spidey Unlimited pitches were rejected (although apparantly, one of them was in the running for a pretty healthy stretch). Despite this, my contact at Marvel seems to feel that I should continue to pursue my chosen career (and hearing that from an actual editor is just the ego boost I've needed over the last couple of months) and has even asked me what Marvel character I would most want to write in a single comic book.
I am still debating my answer. I used to need a two-thirds majority vote from the assembled FARC desk attendants on duty to decide whether or not to get a cupcake or a Cherry coke from the vending machine. How can I be expected to choose one character out of the entire Marvel Universe on my own in under a week?
Oh yeah. I'm totally jazzed.
"More Fodder for the Clark-Needs-A-Life File"
Speaking of being jazzed, don't even get me started on Friday's premiere of the Kim Possible movie.
Trust me. It's best for all involved.
NEXT:
"Songblog II: The OC Mix"
AND COMING SOON:
"Decalogue"
"Video Killed the Radio Star"
"37 Life Lessons from Spider-Man 2"
"On Target"
"Songblog for Silverman"
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