Today I scripted and a week of strips, and they arrived at a very powerful cliff-hanger. Then I pencilled them, and the cliff-hanger was even MORE powerful. It had ME anxious about what came next.

I was so very anxious that after I got home, I had to sit down and script the next strip. Wow, that one was a perfect resolution… dramatic, poignant, and yet still delivering the funny that I have to deliver day after day. Writing it gave me chills to the point that I had to take a hot bath to relax afterwards.

But if I tell you any more about any of these strips, I’ll ruin ’em for you.

Let’s just say that I know it’s a good story when I can’t wait to write what happens next.

I’ve had a great day with the kids. Gleek and Patches especially were wonderful in the morning and early afternoon. See, I had to tend the homestead while Sandra ran nancyfulda and her two young’uns to the airport for their return to Germany, and then pick up a friend who was flying in from someplace else.

So… I came into my office to write about it, and before I’d even opened up Semagic there was screaming. Gleek got frustrated at something, and decided to kick Patches in the head. I don’t tolerate that kind of behavior, so Gleek got hauled up into her room while she screamed at me (no, she never bothered to apologize to her brother — she made excuses along the lines of “I didn’t want him to do that”).

*sigh*

I think one of the most important things we can remember in these short, tumultous little mortal soujourns is that no matter how bad a given experience may be, it does not undo the happy times. Or at least I think I need to keep telling myself that.

Three years ago, on January 31st of 2004, I was still employed by Novell. I also found a whole bunch of free time SOMEWHERE, and cranked out the conclusion to Book II (Schlock Mercenary: The Blackness Between) in a day. The inked buffer climbed from 37 to 42 on that day, and 42 is the highest the buffer has ever been.

Well, ALMOST ever. The buffer is at 42 today, because yesterday I scripted, pencilled, and inked my way from 34 to 43. So yeah, there’s a new record.

It’s kind of a trivial thing, though, because sometime in the next few weeks I’ll break the record AGAIN. Monday the buffer will be at 40 (there are two more strips left to ink in this batch, which I’ll be doing tomorrow), which means that by Wednesday I’ll be at 45.

As I’ve mentioned before, this year I want to add a week to the inked buffer every month. I began the year with 3 weeks in the can. It’s not even March yet, and I’ve got six weeks in the can. So yeah, this record is destined to be short-lived. I’ll lose a week here and there for convention travel, and maybe for sickness or vacations, but I’m banging out extra weeks like this last one in order to keep on track.

In other news, the colored buffer still sucks — 10 days. My OTHER goal is to get the colored buffer to within a week or two of the inked buffer this year, and that’s proving more difficult. Or at least more tedious. Sitting in front of the computer feels too much like work.

Which, by the way, I probably ought to get back to. I’ve colored four so far today, and ought to bang out a few more.

–Howard

My brother randytayler and I went to see “Ghost Rider” last night.

Lots of thoughts, but the one that sticks with me is this — the skull looked boring.

That’s right, they managed to make a flaming skull look BORING. If you look at the comics, the Ghost Rider’s skull has actual facial expressions. The animators on this film, however, decided that it should be a realistic skull — incapable of expressing anything other than “the mouth is open” without the layers of muscle and tissue atop it. Sure, it had flame, but they didn’t use that for expression other than the flame in the eyes for the Pale Stare ability, and cool, blue flames when he was being pensive and a bit more in control.

My advice to animators — BREAK THE RULES. Go ahead and allow the eye sockets to change shape for expressions. Flare those sinus cavities. Give the skull some LIFE, even though it’s traditionally a symbol of death.

There were other things wrong with the movie, but there was also a lot to like. There were couple of brilliant musical pieces whose drum-beats echoed not only the signature Harley-Davidson “potato potato potato” idling sound, but also the hoofbeats symbolic of the ghost rider of the 19th century, who rode a horse. THAT was cool to listen to in the context of the film.