Still up, and thinkin'
So, yeah, still up. Jen won't be home from school for another hour or so, so I'm up, watching, kinda, Lupin III and finishing up making notes for a pal's story.
Keep going back to Warren Ellis' stuff, the web stuff and the books, trying to see if I can suss out the mechanics of the writing, of the art of the word, y'know? The shit's mightily elusive. The little pukes like this are easy; first draft off the top of my head. But the actual stories, the narratives that you can give even the slightest bit of of a fuck about, those are rough. I've got, still, one of a half or so issues of what should be a damned fine comic, and I'm hung up. Not on plot points. I've got those falling out of my ass. No, I'm hung up on why the hell I should care about any of these little people I've made up. 'Cause I do, to some degree, but I haven't got the slightest idea why. And if I don't know, nobody else will know why THEY should, and in the end, it's all gonna suck, 'cause ain't nobody gonna care about anyone and in the end it'll just be guns and blood and the occasional bit of t&a, and hell's bells, y'all, if yer lookin' for violence and porn, the web's got your name all over it, doesn't it?
Right, I'm out. Sleep good.