The last few months have been a rather interesting collection of hot streaks and solid dead ends. My writing has always been sporadic, leaps and bounds of progress followed by a crippling stagnation of creativity. I've learned to accept that about myself, as frustrating and rage inducing as it may be sometimes.
However, I never give up. Admittedly, I walk the line of abandoning this often painful road, but then I realize (often through the unwavering support of my wife) that there really is no other outlet that I enjoy more.
Rock Band does not qualify.
In fall of last year, my first official comic series landed. Beautiful Creatures was a mixed bag of emotions. It was satisfying to see my work in the public eye, lining the shelves with other titles that I enjoy and follow. There is something about seeing the final component to the creative process fully realized, tangible and real. Of course, in support of its release, I did a handful of local signings and enjoyed the small crowds that eventually wandered in to get their copy. Despite it was mostly friends, it was still a small victory.
There were, however, shortcomings. Despite very good reviews, the book essentially sank before it had a chance to swim. After the first issue, Beautiful Creatures seemed to simply evaporate. The second issue, being the last, received only two reviews, one good, one bad. I even had a handful of friends realize they never even bought the second issue. There were a number of factors, I am sure, but at the end of the day, it was a disappointment.
It was a month or so after where I started to feel like, perhaps, this comic world wasn't for me. Luckily, I had the support of a very special person who encouraged me through that time and propelled me toward a new goal: Emerald City Comic Con.
Oh, and the wonders I did see.