Mike Dull was a pretty cool guy I met in 9th grade. I was a new kid at a Christian school and, even though he was more or less in the popular group, he took the time to become my friend.
I wasn't really involved in any activities at my church, The Chapel in Akron, but Mike went there too and he invited me to go with him to Breakaway, the Wednesday night Chapel event. I attended (it was held at Gary Underwood's house), knowing only Mike, and was introduced to some of the coolest cats I've ever had the pleasure to know. I quickly became heavily involved at church, making friends and maturing a faith that would last a lifetime.
It's strange to think back on the little catalysts in your life that have had a major hand in determining the person you are, the crowd you fell in with, the decisions you'll make into adulthood. I can honestly say that one of those catalysts was my buddy Mike.
And this morning I received an email from an old high school friend, telling me that Mike was just killed in a car accident.
It's been a long time since I've talked to or, honestly, even thought about him, but this news has come especially hard. I wish I'd known I'd never get to see him again the last time we talked.
Mike Dull was a really great friend and I'll miss him.
Well, I'm happy to report that I did indeed take the 24 Hour Comic Day Challenge and succeeded (with roughly two minutes to spare). It was one of the most gruelling experiences of my life, but, 24 hours and 24 pages later, I've lived to tell the tale.
I'm in the process of making a whole little featurette on my website, but a few folks were anxious to see the comic, so I've posted it.
Thanks (or maybe blame) goes to Andy Jewett for successfully convincing me to go through with it, but on Saturday, I'll join hundreds of cartoonists participating in the now-International phenomenon: 24 Hour Comics Day.
The challenge: a full, 24-page comic... concepted, written, pencilled, inked and lettered... in 24 uninterrupted hours. No prep work, no character sketches, no nothing. Go in cold, come out with a comic 24 hours later. You have to do it alone, too. No help, no "team-ups". Just one frenzied cartoonist.
It might not seem like such an incredible feat, but believe me, it is. Most comic book professionals can rarely average more than a single page in a given workday, much less 24.
From what I've heard and read about the experience of pure, ad-libbed, graphic storytelling for 24 straight hours... it's some sort of weird nirvana. It's a comic book mountaintop experience. I'd be lying if I said I weren't a little nervous about it. I have enough difficulty focusing on one specific thing for five straight minutes, I can't imagine what this'll be like.
The only thing that could stand in the way of this endeavor would be my friggin' health. As it turns out, I've got a kidney stone stewin' and a 24 hour comic ain't gonna happen if I'm forced to add bladder irritation to the mix. Fingers crossed.
Hoofah. Wish me luck, man. Same goes for Jewett. We'll surely need it.
When I was 11, I was forced to get allergy shots each week. It was a lousy thing and I dreaded it... until I discovered the Waldenbooks across the parking lot from the clinic. It became my ritual: walk in, get the allergy shots, walk over to Walden's for 20 minutes, back to the clinic to check for allergic reactions, go home.
It was in Waldenbooks that I decided what I wanted to do with my life.
I bought a copy of Justice League International for a buck one afternoon. At home, I pored over the detail in the artwork. I wasn't quite at the age where I was remembering the names of artists I liked, but I remembered the guy that drew JLI - Kevin Maguire.
Maguire's artwork was a strange thing to see in a comic book. It wasn't goofy or sloppy or trendy. There weren't stupid, overblown muscles that didn't exist bursting out of the superheroes he drew. Instead, his work was soft and subtle. He paid close attention to gesture and proper anatomy. He understood facial expressions and lighting and composition. He pulled off the near-impossible and made it look easy.
My issue of JLI #23 grew worn and ragged from the reading, re-reading, scrutiny, analysis, and straight up copying of the artwork inside. I read that thing and said to myself, "this is it. This is what I want to do. I want to draw for a living. If I can draw pictures that can inspire others the way Kevin Maguire inspires me, I can die a happy lad."
To this day, Maguire remains my favorite. He's not the fan-fave he used to be, but he's still popular. Nearly 18 years later, if it says "Kevin Maguire" on the cover, I'm sold.
And last night, Carey handed me a flat package she'd won on eBay, backed with stiff cardboard. "It's a big day," she said, "let's get it framed for your birthday next month." I opened it up to find original Kevin Maguire artwork - a page from JLI #23.
It's the real thing, too, man. Maguire's signature is on the back, with the official DC Comics stamp and everything. Inks by Kevin's best inker: Joe Rubinstein. It's gorgeous.
So, "thanks" doesn't quite seem to say it, but thanks, Care. I still can't draw like Kevin Maguire, but think I can die a happy lad.
JER: We got a letter from the IRS. They're saying we missed the deadline and now we owe them double.
CAREY: Wha? What do you mean... wait, WHAT LETTER?
JER: I just opened it. Do you want to read it? We're screwed.
CAREY: We missed the... I thought... wait wait, are you kidding me? Double?
JER: Sorry, sweetie. Isn't that a bummer?
CAREY: DOUBLE? We can't... are you SERIOUS?
JER: No. April Fool. I gotta go to work. Love ya.
And, of course, a half hour later, on my way to work, the cell phone rang.
CAREY: Hey. It's me. I don't feel good.
JER: What's the matter?
CAREY: I'm sick. I threw up. A lot.
JER: Aw. Did it make you feel any better?
CAREY: No. It was all blood.
JER: Huh?
CAREY: It was blood.
JER: That you threw up?!
CAREY: Yeah.
JER: BLOOD?!
CAREY: Yeah.
JER: God!
CAREY: Do you think I should go to the hospital?
JER: I don't know! Maybe! So you looked in the toilet and you saw--
CAREY: April Fool.
Just a taste of the fun we have in the Bear household. ...
On Saturday, though, we went to have our taxes done. (I know, I know. Hey, at least it's before the 15th, right?) Er. We owe a lot. It's pretty dire.
(*Editor's Note: Never claim "9" on your taxes if you don't make much money and you have no children. It's a really, really bad idea.)
The good side of it is the accountant we're using seems to be a straight arrow and he's helping us out with the last year's audit situation. Hopefully we can get that ridiculous thing reduced a little.
So, while the rest of the world mourns the fallen Pope, we find ourselves mourning our disposable income.
(Speaking of the Pope, though, I thought the comic pictured at the right was a gas. I wish I could say it's made-up, but no. That really was a legitimate Marvel comic from 20 years or so ago. The Spidey head makes it.) ...
After being shell-shocked at the accountant's office, it was time to hit Scott and Stephanie's for a ridiculous evening of limosines, spirits, food and general excess. Always a memorable evening with that crew.
Unfortunately, I drank a little too much (thank God for limos).
And unfortunately, Carey drank a lot too much (her April Fool's prank was literally realized, minus the blood, after we got home).
So, Sunday was sort of a lazy day of nauseous recovery.
Fun, but we really shouldn't do that. After all, we have two impressionable cats at home that look to us to be responsible adults. ...
Oh, by the way, Aunt Nancy came in second, which didn't get her a vacation, but it did get her $500 and a one-year supply of Eagle Brand Premium Dessert Kits, which, being honest, is better than a dumb old vacation anyhow.
It was in Waldenbooks that I decided what I wanted to do with my life.
So, while the rest of the world mourns the fallen Pope, we find ourselves mourning our disposable income.
