Day of the Week 1, Year 0
Dec. 23, 2008 seems like a long time ago. It is now Nov. 22, 2009. A year – a month and one day. I had a job then, not much and the job was literally and physically killing me but I had a promise of retirement in only 20 more years.
It is depressing and I could lie and say it doesn’t affect my mindset but I try to keep the nose above the horizon line. Despite my ardent disbelief that I could gain much of anything from going to the CTN Animation expo in Burbank I accompanied Blue Wolf D, ArchFeind and two others from BWD’s animation class. More accurately: I drove them carless pseudo-minors. I learned little that was of any use to me, obviously. I am NOT a Drawing Line Artist, I am a Writing Line Artist. None the less I talked with people, I DID learn some things, or at least read the sign posts more clearly. I’m not where I need to be, not physically, not economically, not mentally or skillfully. I need MORE. As a wordsmith I am good with potential to be great but in reality, we ALL have that potential. It is not necessarily that I am smarter than you or him, or her, I have been writing for 22 years. You pick up a pen today and yeah, I smack you down so hard you’ll think a sledgehammer hit your writing hand. It was learned by experience gained reading, writing, and as of five years ago, starting to apply the scholastic lessons that instead of fighting against them. I can be one of the published.
I met Ryan Benjamin for the second time in my life but this time I had that spark of confidence in me, it wasn’t like the Comicon, the skared wittle boy who shy’s from identifying himself. It’s difficult when you have two personalities, one who is sure and KNOWS themselves, and then the cringer who can’t stand before men because he lacks spit and polish and the money or beautiful silken banner weaved by only the most prestigious silk makers of Edo and blessed by the Emperor himself. My banner is dirty, gray and worn out stone washed t-shirts stitched together and with what name of honor? That of the unknown. It’s hard to be respectable when you stand amidst samurai with skill and caliber while you’re clad in rags and unlettered and unschooled.
Not on MY Watch. I may not be perfect, but I’m better than the crap that gets churned and chugged by the Entertainment industry. I will succeed in getting into print even if, just like in that horror-fest of ridiculous plot holes 2012 I am only bought and purchased by 492 people (that was insanely depressing).

Stats:
Thousands of pages written both of Clownie and Weepie.
Re-writes, re-imagines of Weepie have kept her perma fresh in my mind and given her true life within me. She is better than 9/10 of current comic characters misbegotten abominations by people who saw only flash and not substance. I have uploaded the best piece of new Weepie stuff; a piece I’ve personally acted out and re-written, touched up, and polished until it SHINES. It is the pen-ultimate moment when the two women have to face each other, their pasts, their futures and their sins. It is comedy and tragedy, the masks of laughter and tears slammed together by a curtain of bloody red velvet. Dance, dance and sing for tomorrow DEATH takes us away! Did you know during The Great War when Christmas rolled around a cease fire was called? Thus does the True Loyalist/Failure and the False Defector/Success meet at their Father’s tomb. Ishmael and Isaac (sons of Abraham, Genesis), Nina and Anna Williams (Tekken), Germans and UK’rs in the trenches and no man’s land….
This is the epic tale, the tale of brief sanity amidst insane bullshit murderous politics and bruised and bloody feelings. A brief respite where the two speak and share, for one damn second stop the murderous brawling that rips at the Earth’s innards because Man cannot stop being so damn conceited. Can for one damn second we not try to MURDER each other? Black Widow, ever the wiser and more experienced (read: Glutted on blood and murder and war) actually slams the question into the younger, wilder, and less learned myrmidonic Weeping Temptress. Then the Tannenbaum comes out and we share a brief Christmas day that, as night approaches wears away until they must split up again, the farewell to armistice fading fast but not without indelibly stamping each woman’s soul with the understanding, clear and undeniable truth of the other. They know that what separates them is nothing REAL, only a single word written on such a fallible parchment as air. It is THIS type of setup that makes a cold hearted Russian KGB Assassin turned defector dedicate her life to FIXING the damaged Communist sister that spirals out of control to her death. She’s not just innocent, she’s HUMAN. She has hopes, dreams, fantasies of smooching Captain America and upholding her belief in compassion and a life of shared living. Christmas gift giving ‘neath a Red Flag. She’s brass balls bonkers but her motivation is correct and when you have a tool that works well but is misaligned, you don’t throw the table saw away, you re-align it. To find a diamond amidst the cynical and blasphemous secret agents of the world is a rare find indeed, and while the rest of the world fails to grasp this or refuses to accept it, Black Widow knows purity when she sees it and as fierce as a Russian Bear she will defend it.

Clownie continues with epic-ness in mind. I need only find an artist willing to believe in and work towards the epic-ness. The feeling and emotion of the Clownie stories are like Classical music masters, the rise and fall to heights and depths of true story telling are masterful indeed. When I finally refine my craft with more learning, I will rock the foundations of the world of Bad Writing. Then maybe I’ll learn to draw, but not sure I need to waste my time on it. Steam Engineering and Solar Power and building Airships is looking more and more fun. And Black Smith. Gives me chills.

*edited for length*