DC posted the first piece of art for the Batwoman ongoing series today!
Jim and I have completed scripts for two issues and are hard at work on the third. I’ll post info about release dates and anything else I can in the coming weeks.
Archive for the ‘Writing’ Category
Last week DC announced that I’ll be co-writing the Batwoman ongoing series with J.H. Williams III, who’ll also be doing the art for the first arc. Jim and I will continue writing the series with Amy Reeder Hadley (Madame Xanadu) taking over art for the second arc.
The announcement of an ongoing Batwoman series has been picked up by a diverse number of outlets ranging from IGN to Change.Org, Comi Girl, and even the New York Times. A few days after the initial announcement, Jim and I did an interview with First Comic News discussing some of our upcoming plans. Not much more we can reveal yet, but tonight I spent 60 minutes on the phone with Jim talking about our new villains, some visual themes we want to explore, Batwoman’s love life, how she’ll fit into Gotham City, her relationship to some of the other heroes in the DC Universe, and why she often grins when she’s about to get into a fight (among other things).
Meanwhile, a few more reviews for Star Wars: Purge — The Hidden Blade have hit, and the response to the story and art continues to be great. Comics Bulletin says:
“Purge is a fantastic one-shot that will no doubt appeal to Star Wars fans of all ages and, regardless of your investment to the universe that has captivated millions, will leave a smile on your face if even solely for the artwork.”
And check out the flattering 4.5 Star Review at Major Spoilers.
Finally, Hidden Blade artist Chris Scalf has posted a short teaser trailer on YouTube. While you’re there, check out his tutorials and other work.
If you haven’t picked up The Hidden Blade yet, you can order it here.
Star Wars: Purge – The Hidden Blade hit comic stores this week, and has been reviewed by both Comic Attack and MTV’s Splash Page. So far, response has been positive, which I’ll credit to the incredible art of Chris Scalf. I envisioned a dark, choking planet; a bizarre monster; and a Jedi Master vaguely reminiscent of the Norse God Loki. And he nailed it all.
Just for fun, here’s a 5-song play list for the issue (stuff I listened to while writing it):
- M83, “Unrecorded”
- Foo Fighters, “The Pretender”
- Mogwai, “We’re No Here”
- Offspring, “Half-Truism”
- John Murphy, “Kanada’s Death, Pt. 2″ (from the soundtrack to the overlooked Sunshine)
Buy The Hidden Blade here!
Since I’ve been posting Twitter/Facebook updates about my progress on my most recent graphic novel for Dark Horse, I’ve received a lot of questions about how I work. When I started writing comics, I also searched for advice – on everything from style to format to process. But while there are thousands of books and web sites devoted to screenwriting and fiction writing, there are very few resources for comic book writing (luckily I had some awesome editors to help me). Over time, I’ve managed to cobble together something that vaguely resembles a “process,” borrowing from other schools of writing (and leaning heavily on a handful of writing books, including Stephen King’s instructive and inspirational On Writing).
So, here it is, at least as it stands today, the process I used for my most recent graphic novel. It’s constantly evolving, organic (meaning that I don’t always do everything in the same order, I often go back to a previous step to make changes, and I sometimes combine steps), and often collapsed out of necessity (by things like a deadline).
Art by J.H. Williams III!
1. The Spark: Usually, I’m asked to pitch a specific type of story – a one-shot about Vader hunting down a Jedi or a Hellboy short story for an anthology series. I’ll take any direction and ideas I can get because it makes my job a lot easier. In the absence of a core concept, I revisit an Excel spreadsheet with hundreds ideas for stories – most just short, one-liners that pop into my head a few times a day – to see if anything resonates. If that doesn’t yield anything, I do a few brainstorming sessions. This almost always revolves around asking questions: “What really scares Hellboy?” or “How did Jango Fett become the Prime Clone?” Sometimes I just know I want to tell a story about a specific character and that’s enough to get going.
2. Premise: Once I have the spark of an idea, I identify the main characters, the central conflict, any character change, and the basic desire lines (who wants what and why). Ideally, I come out of this phase with a short “logline” (“Hellboy must stake out a remote lovers lane with an attractive FBI agent in order to capture the murderous Goatman.”).
3. Focused Brainstorming: Next, I write a list of every possible event, scene, character moment, and even line of dialogue related to the premise I can think of. I’m not trying to flesh out a plot here, but just vomiting out anything and everything that pops into my mind about the premise.
4. Outline: For me, the most difficult, time-consuming, and rewarding step is often the detailed synopsis. I start very loose, almost like writing a short story, and try to let the characters determine where the story should go. I’m often surprised by what happens. Once I know the beginning, middle, and end, I edit and refine. The level of detail varies from scene to scene – I’m usually light on describing action (“Ventress and Obi-Wan fight!”), and heavy on detailing character interactions, to the point of including specific lines of dialogue. I keep at it until I can see most of the story in my head. By the time I’m done with the outline, I should also know what the story is “about” – the theme.
5. Character Arc: By the time I hit the outline, I like to have some idea about who changes and how. At the very least, I need to know where the characters start and where they end up. As I work on the outline, I detail the key moments, decisions, and revelations in any character arc.
6. Design Themes & Symbols: Comics are a visual medium, so once I know the overall story theme and character arc, I try to come up with some sort of visual hooks for the story.
7. Page Budget: Comic books have fairly standardized metrics: A typical single issue comic is 22 pages long (not counting ads and other material) with roughly 4-6 panels per page (though this varies based on the creative team). Most multi-issue story arcs are 4 to 6 issues (the “right” length to be republished later as a trade paperback). There’s more latitude with a graphic novel (my most recent is 80 pages), but even that might be constrained based on schedule and how many pages an artist can turn out. Unfortunately, I’m always trying to tell a bigger story than the page count allows, so recently I’ve started doing a quick budget spreadsheet to figure out if everything in the outline will fit. I list every scene and assign each an estimated page count. I consciously over-budget for action moments to allow for some single- or double-panel splash pages. Conversely, I try to under-budget for scenes heavy on dialogue because I tend to over-write the dialogue initially, and having tight budgets keeps me honest when I’m editing later. I do this step quickly – in less than 30 minutes – because it’s really just directional at first; I don’t want it to become too constrictive. However, if the outline clearly doesn’t fit into the budget, I’ll cut scenes or otherwise revise to get within a few pages of the target. The spreadsheet then becomes the foundation for the skeleton (see below).
8. Pitch: Before I start writing the script, I turn in a pitch document that basically includes the premise, notes about the character arc and design theme, and the detailed outline. For readability, I break the outline into “parts” – these aren’t necessarily traditional “Acts,” but logical breaks based on changes in setting, tone, or character. I don’t start writing the script until the pitch is approved.
9. Skeleton (Rough Draft): This might be my favorite step – basically a very rough, very fast first pass of the script. I try to keep the descriptive text as short as possible – snapshots of what will be in each panel and basic “camera” direction, just enough to visualize what’s going on. I also include stub dialogue and captions. I’m not concerned with the quality of the dialogue yet – I just want to get the point across. This gives me permission to overwrite dialogue and write badly, which keeps me from getting hung up on any specific exchange; the important thing is to just keep pushing ahead until I’ve finished the entire rough draft. Often, I’ll cut and paste from the outline. I try to remain conscious of “reveals” (page 1 and every even-numbered page is a chance to surprise the reader with something cool). The skeleton validates that everything I envision actually fits, determines the rough number of panels on each page, helps me identify plot holes and anything that doesn’t make sense, and tells me which characters and locations I’ll need to flesh out further. But, the most exciting part of the skeleton is that it often generates new ideas that take a scene in a different direction than I originally imagined. I’ve found that the skeleton is hugely important because it prevents me from writing detailed panel-by-panel descriptions that will eventually need to be reworked or cut altogether if I’m over budget (and I’m always over budget) or something in the story isn’t working for me. I don’t move to the next step until I’m in budget, which often means going back through the skeleton and looking for stuff to cut or change. I’m still determining the “right” pace for the skeleton, and it’s highly-dependent on the outline’s level of detail, but I think I’m averaging about 1 page every 15-20 minutes for the first pass.
10. First Draft: Here, I focus on fleshing out the skeleton, adding much more detailed panel descriptions and “camera” direction. I also create a section at the front of the script for “Artist Notes” – basically a place where I can describe recurring characters and locations (which is actually a big chunk of work). I take a pass at the dialogue, but I try not to get hung up on this just yet. I often rework, replace, move or cut entire scenes. And this is where I start adding “sound effects” (“KAPOW!”). Again, new ideas come up during this step, especially for action sequences, and I’ll make changes to accommodate better ideas. My pace has been about 1 page every 15 minutes, unless I’m reworking a sequence, in which case a page could take much longer to get right.
- Art by Ramon Bachs!
11. Second Draft: The second draft is really about editing, especially dialogue. I actually start by reading just the dialogue, focusing all of my energy on cutting down and refining it before revisiting the panel descriptions. In this phase, I still might move around some panels, but rarely make any wholesale revisions. Still, there’s always room for a good idea – if I get a better idea for a panel or scene even at this late stage, I’ll try to embrace it and make the changes necessary to get it in. By this draft, I really better know what the story is “about,” so I also try to add recurring images and symbols if necessary. Finally (and maybe most importantly), I try to put myself into the artist’s head when rereading the panel descriptions – the last thing I want is for the artist to think “How am I going to cram all that into one panel?” I’m often guilty of trying to include small details (a character’s finger on the trigger of a gun) in a panel that also includes “broad” description (multiple characters or lots of action), so I use the second draft to catch that stuff and fix it. This is also where I add notes for the letterer and colorist.
12. Polish Pass: This is my “copy edit” pass meant to catch any typos, but it’s also the last chance to improve the dialogue and add any additional notes or description.
Two other quick bits of “advice”:
Once I start the skeleton, I write every night until I get through the first draft. Otherwise, I’ll lose momentum, the characters’ voices, and sometimes even the theme. After the first draft, I try to take a few days off and work on something else before I tackle the second draft. This lets me come back to the story refreshed and sometimes with new perspective.
And, I always, always try to remind myself of this: The only real “budget” in comics is the page count. This is one of the major differences between comics and films, television, and games. You don’t have to pay for shooting on location, so you can go anywhere. You don’t have to pay for special effects, so explosions can be as big as you want. You don’t have to pay for actors or extras, stunt men or coordinators, so you can have as many characters as you want and have them do anything you want. Anything you can dream up can be part of the story, as long as it fits in 22 pages.
My most recent writing gig — Star Wars: Purge #3 — was announced last week by Dark Horse. The story, called ”The Hidden Blade” (a nod to Samurai cinema), focuses on Darth Vader’s personal mission to find and destroy the last of the Jedi. Solicitation text:
On a remote world, Darth Vader chafes at the assignment given to him by the Emperor: guarding an Imperial manufacturing facility from the anti-Imperial natives. Vader feels the duty is beneath him — until he learns that a Jedi Master and his Padawan are in league with the natives!
Now the game is afoot, and Vader is on the trail of his favorite prey. No ambush, no local monstrous lizards, will deter him his pursuit. Woe be to the Jedi when Vader catches up with them! This issue follows events in Revenge of the Sith!
Art by Chris Scalf, who does amazing character and creature work.
LucasArts debuted a trailer for The Force Unleashed II - a game I’m currently working on, alongside a ridiculously talented team - this past Saturday on the Spike TV VGA 09 broadcast. The announcement was followed by a press release and the launch of the official web site, where you can find the trailer and a powerful piece of key art. I can only confirm what’s in the press release and the trailer: Starkiller, the tortured protagonist from the original game, is back… And I’m thrilled to see him in action again.
I recently had the privilege of writing a short ”Ask the Expert” <looks over shoulder> piece for Storylink. While you’re there, be sure to read the more insightful Q&A with Simon Kinberg, screenwriter for X-Men: Last Stand, Jumper, Mr. & Mrs. Smith, and the upcoming Sherlock Holmes flick. His writing process is especially interesting, but my favorite quote covers the heart of story:
I really believe all good stories start from the same place: interesting characters in an emotionally charged situation. For me, the difference between drama and genre is this: in dramas, you have relatable characters in a relatable situation, whereas in genre films you have relatable characters in an unrelatable situation (fighting ghosts or robots or giant sharks, etc…). But you have to relate to the characters.
And then read the interview with non-stop Jimmy Palmiotti!
“It’s as simple as having a planet of fire … and you want to keep the characters from burning.”
I don’t think “writer’s block” (or “artist’s block” or whatever) actually exists – it’s really like “writer’s procrastination.” Stephen King (I think) once described the beginning of every writing session as unwrapping a dead fish – it’s hard to gear yourself up to start the task, you spend the first couple of hours gagging over what you did the day before, and you keep questioning why you’re doing this to begin with. I believe I read that in an interview in the late 1980s; today, I’d say it’s like unwrapping a fish while standing in the middle of a theme park – there are just so many things at our fingertips that are easier and perhaps more fun (for a few moments anyway) than peeling back the aluminum foil on that dead fish (I’ve spent more time the past few hours adding music to my itunes library than actually writing).
Nearly every book on writing rips off the same Robert Frost quote: “The only way out is through.” Essentially, this just means that writing takes Green Lantern willpower in order to push past the distractions and unwrap that dead fish. Whether you have true writer’s block or you’re using StumbleUpon for “research,” eventually you just have to write (though, if you’d rather surf, check this out). For me, starting out is easier if I 1) I convince myself I’m ”exercising” – not writing anything ”real” initially; and 2) I find ways to surprise myself. Here are a few tools I’ve used to make unwrapping the dead fish a little easier. Nearly all of these require setting aside five to fifteen minutes for writing “practice.” And although I refer to this as breaking “writer’s block,” there’s no reason that modified versions of many of these same exercises can’t be used by other artists.
1. The Spark Journal
Buy a cheap spiral-bound notebook. It should be the cheapest one you can find — If you spend more than a few bucks on this, you’ll think everything you write in it needs to be brilliant and you’ll spend more time chewing on a (probably imaginary) pencil than actually writing. And the cover should be non-descript to avoid influencing your recruit (see below) in any strange way.
Once you have your cheap, non-descript notebook, seek out someone who can write and spell. Ask your “recruit” to write a single word or phrase at the top of every other page in the notebook. Don’t give them any rules beyond that – just whatever words or phrases that come to mind. They should be able to do it in about fifteen minutes, just by looking around the room. If you want to give the journal to multiple people and have them each fill out a handful of pages, that’s fine, but don’t make this a major project – the whole point is to get you something you can use as soon as possible.
Once you have the journal back in hand, do not flip through it. Just turn to the first “heading” provided by your recruit, read it, and start writing. Set a 10- to 15-minute time limit for yourself and try to fill up the pages. At the worst, you’ll have flexed your muscles for the day; at best, you might end up with a fresh idea or a new direction for someting you’re already working on.
If you don’t know anyone literate or the idea of putting a physical pen to actual paper abhors you, use a random phrase generator to get you started.
2. Lyrics Warmup
Some people stretch every morning; I do this exercise. Put on a song and try to write down the lyrics as it plays. Don’t look them up – it doesn’t matter if you get them exactly right or not. Just try to keep up and type or write what you think you hear. Then, without looking back at the lyrics for reference, spend ten minutes writing a scene based on the song.
3. Fire Drill
I believe this is a pretty common exercise in writing courses. Take a character from something you’re working on and imagine his or her house / apartment / motor home is on fire. The character has five minutes to rescue whatever s/he can. You have five minutes to write it all down. I almost guarantee you’ll learn something about your character you didn’t know before.
4. Flour Drill
This exercise is inspired by the test Disney supposedly gives animators before they are hired, which requires the animator to animate a sack of flour when its angry, sad, happy, etc. The belief is that if you can make a sack of flour seem sad, you can make any character seem sad.
Spend one minute establishing a simple conflict between two characters. Jot down what Character A wants, what Character B wants, and why this creates tension or a clash between them. For the purposes of a short writing exercise, all of this should be fairly simple; don’t agonize over complex motivations for your characters, just give them some primal conflict (Character A wants to survive; Character B wants him dead).
You’re going to spend the next ten minutes writing a dialogue between these two characters, but there’s one catch: They can’t be human. They can be animals, inanimate objects, even abstract concepts, but no humans. It’s fine if they are the same type of “thing” (i.e., both are spiders) or different (one is a depressed Voodoo doll, the other is a psychotic soundwave… together they fight crime!). It’s fine if they are anthropomorphized and they can speak in your native tongue.
As you write, focus on both the dialogue itself and descriptions of how the characters convey emotion outside of chatter — body languge, expressions, tone of voice, etc. How does a clock show anger or fear? How does a grasshopper blush?
This exercise always makes me laugh, and I find that writing about actual people is easier after I’ve tried to make a xylophone express guilt (and writing a dialogue between a scared monkey and a killer chimp got me into my college creative writing program…)
5. Reverse Flour Drill
Take a character you’ve already created and spend two minutes writing down how she looks and acts when angry. Does she get flushed? Narrow her eyes? Speak in a controlled monotone? Now spend another two minutes doing the same for the character when she’s gripped by four other common emotions or states that seem most appropriate to you (happy, sad, scared, embarassed, in love, exhausted, etc.). As with the Fire Drill, you’ll probably learn something new about your character.