Step 46: Give The Middle Finger To 2016

I think we all can agree that 2016 has been... somewhat of a shitshow.

2016 WYD???

A lot has happened since my last post in August, and none of it is particularly interesting so I'll spare my readers the details. But just yesterday I read the news that Ron Glass of Firefly fame had passed away, and it was on a morning just like this a few months ago that I was drawing a line illustration of Shepherd Book for the Serenity Adult Coloring Book published by Dark Horse, musing that Book was perhaps my favorite character of the series.

The sky is yours, Shepherd.

Speaking of books, there's been some developments with my own, but I'm not at liberty to discuss that right now. What I will say is that I finished writing a second book since August, and I haven't quite recovered from it yet. I didn't expect to become so emotionally invested in the lives of people conceived in my head, and I'm surprised at how much their fates are weighing on my shoulders. I'm sure a lot of artists struggle to separate their personal lives from their work, and the affection I carry for my characters hovers annoyingly between fantasy and reality. Perhaps I'm living vicariously through them as a means to escape the ugliness of society and my own unfulfilling existence, but I better start writing something more upbeat here pretty soon before the fictional landscape I've invented begins to mirror something altogether more awful--in the real world, and in my heart.

Here's a cute .gif of Bowie to cheer you me up.

Step 42: Answer The Ultimate Question Of Life, The Universe, And Everything

If you don't get the reference to this post title, that's okay. I've never actually read The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, and I consider myself to be one of the foremost experts on geek culture.

Shame indeed, Septa Unella.  SHAME INDEED.

The Twitter event #PitchWars is coming up, which is sort of like a pre-published author version of The Hunger Games. Or Battle Royale, if you're an 90's anime weaboo like I am.

If you weren't ~*blessed*~ to grow up with Sailor Moon, I feel sorry for you.

Some writers are pimping out their Author Bios under the cleverly-titled hashtag, #PimpMyBio. So I thought I'd throw my hat into the ring, even though for me writing a personal bio is about as much fun as jerking off using a hedgehog.

On the one hand, ow. On the other hand... I mean, you're still masturbating. /letscallitadraw

Shall we get started?  First and foremost, here's some basic stats.  I am:

• 31 years old but forever 17 in my head
• A cisgendered female
• Happily married to a man but would identify myself somewhere on the queer spectrum
• A San Diego native
• A 2007 alumna of the University of California, San Diego with a B.A. in Visual Arts

I've worked professionally as a freelance illustrator in the comic book industry since 2009, but my real passion has always been in graphic novels (Blankets changed my goddamned life--seriously, go read it right now). My short graphic story, Strawberry Wine, was a winner of TokyoPop's 2008 Rising Stars of Manga contest and was published nationally in their anthology book. The manuscript that I am currently peddling about, Defining Lines, actually started life as a graphic novel, and I would love to revisit the medium one day (time and finances permitting).

And so long as my drawing hand doesn't fail me.

At any rate, this little spiel of mine is starting to sound suspiciously like a query letter, so lets move on to the fun stuff.  In my spare time, I like to:

• Cosplay
• Draw
• Read
• Play video games

Pertaining to that last one, I am an especially avid fan of the Final Fantasy franchise. My all-time favorite game is Final Fantasy X, and I will fight anyone who says Final Fantasy VIII is a shit game and not worth playing.

Take your FFVII superiority complex and shove it.

I also enjoy decorating my Lakeview Manor house in Skyrim with the bones of fallen dragons I have slain:

Unless they slay me first.  It happens.

And to round this post out, I'm going to link to a few random .gifs that are relevant to my interests:

When u sneeze so hard u regenerate

Exhibit A: My first sexual awakening

Real men wear pink.
(Alternate caption: Bye Felicia~)

Data with his emotion chip is just the best I can't even

Welp, that about sums it up!  I hope you enjoyed this little stroll down .gif lane, and I'm looking forward to #PitchWars! May the odds May the Force Live Long and okay whatever good luck everyone!

EDIT:  Most mentees appear to be including some info about their manuscripts along with their bios, so here's mine in a nutshell--

DEFINING LINES is the story of an awkward girl who suddenly becomes popular and--hahaha just kidding, awkward girl stays totally awkward and unexpectedly finds her Prince Princess Charming! YA Contemporary LGBTQ+ Romance with a sprinkling of David Bowie and pop culture, complete at 92,000 words.

Step 37: Stand Up

Please forgive my absence; it's been a tough weekend.

I haven't talked about it on my blog, but my book is an LGBTQ story.  An agent asked me recently what my goals were for Defining Lines, and this was my response:

"I wrote Defining Lines as my contribution to the LGBTQ movement. I’m not a politician and it’s unlikely I will ever sway the masses or be in a position to enact laws that protect LGBTQ rights, but by writing this book I am offering my voice to those who might not be able to speak up. It might come as a surprise that I identify as a straight, cisgendered woman, but I wrote this story simply because it was something I wanted to read. I wanted to read about the lives of ordinary people living under extraordinary conditions, who may choose to live a life in secret for their own safety but are nonetheless brave for being true to themselves. I wanted to normalize the idea that love is love, no matter who you are attracted to or how you identify yourself. I wanted young gay and transgendered people to see Defining Lines not hidden away in some tiny boutique that specializes in LGBTQ literature, but proudly on display in the Young Adult section at Barnes & Noble or Amazon.com next to Anna and the French Kiss and The Fault In Our Stars, because the story of Defining Lines is the story of millions of people who shouldn’t feel marginalized because of who they are."

In light of the events in Orlando, my resolve to make this book available to every underrepresented individual in this country is stronger than ever. My goal in life is to live long enough to see the day when two men kissing doesn't even register on anyone's radar, and for trans people to be able to live their lives openly and to the fullest without nary a blink of judgmental eyes. If Defining Lines can help normalize that ideal and sway even one person towards the idea that love is love in all forms, I'll die a happy person.

I sure do, John Oliver.  And I'm singing right along with them.

Step 32: Give Blood

Man, I've been suffering from a severe lack of motivation the past few days. I'm at a 95% rejection rate for my book (including three rejections on the full manuscript), and the last 5% of queries I've basically written off as being ignored or lost in the ether. I'm trying to drum up the motivation to send out another batch of queries, but the idea of writing a slew of tailor-made emails sounds about as much fun as watching paint dry.

And not the cool kind of paint drying.

Ah, well, there's always tomorrow. I did accomplish one thing of value today, which is that I hauled my lazy ass down to the local blood bank and gave them a pint of vampire chow. World Blood Drive Day is an international event bringing together blood banks and Star Wars fans, and is the brainchild of my good friend Ryder Windham of Star Wars literary fame. It's actually held on the second Saturday of June every year, but I was a week late to the party last year so it seemed only fitting that I  would overcompensate and do it a week early this year.

Rebel 4 life, yo.

The plan was actually to dress up in my entire X-Wing pilot costume, but it was so flipping hot this afternoon that I forewent the jumpsuit in favor of, you know, not passing out. Maybe next year!

I literally created this whole blog entry just so I could post this picture.

Step 22: Savor That Strawberry Wine

Yesterday was a weird day that has culminated in me writing this blog post at 2:30am on Friday morning. I make it a point not to spend too much time thinking about days gone by, because the practical side of me can't afford to let my sentimental side take over and waste energy crying buckets. But the past has a way of catching up with you sometimes, as it did to me yesterday afternoon, and I can't seem to compartmentalize it as well as I usually do.

The details are a little fuzzy, but I distinctly remember one of the very first dates with my high school boyfriend was on my 17th birthday in 2002. He took me to the opera to see Faust; he was dressed smartly, and was waiting for me outside the theater with a single red rose. I can remember the little green plastic vial of water it came in, and the chaste kiss we shared before we headed into the theater.

My heart aches at the memory, but I'm not entirely sure if what I'm feeling is sadness over the loss of him, or what he represented. I push the memories away so I can move on with my life, but at the same time I clutch at them tightly, because memories are fleeting and my time with him was important and formidable and so very precious.

Through my tears, I couldn't help but stop and laugh.  Because, in the very definition of irony, I found myself trapped in my own life-imitating-art moment.

Hello... /adele

That's the cover to Volume 8 of The Rising Stars of Manga, which my short graphic story, Strawberry Wine, is featured in. I can't take credit for the plot; it was essentially my interpretation of the Deana Carter song of the same name in illustration form. It was one of my favorite songs growing up, but I never truly appreciated the meaning of either the song or my own work until tonight.

I won't bore you with the details, and the art is painfully amateurish compared to my current skill set, but I'll humor you with the final two pages of the story:

I feel like my 17-year-old self is calling out to me from my past. I wonder what she would think of me now?

Step 21: Accept The Circumstances

There's a reason why I end up watching the same five animes over and over again, and it goes a little something like this:

Me: I wish I could find a series as good as [blank]

Me: *tries watching something similar to [blank]*

Me: ...

Me: Fuck it im just gonna watch [blank]

After binging on Rurouni Kenshin and Ghost in the Shell for the last few weeks, I wanted to shift gears and watch something cute and romantic in the vein of Kareshi Kanojo no Jijō (His and Her Circumstances in North America), or Kare Kano, for short. I started an episode of the highly recommended Clannad, but ultimately decided that it had been far too long since I had revisited Kare Kano and settled with devouring the first 12 episodes last night.

Freckles is arguably the most upbeat anime opening, but Tenshi no Yubikiri sure gives it a run for it's money.

What I love so much about Kare Kano is it's essentially a master class in romantic tension. The story doesn't suddenly stop becoming interesting when the two main characters get together; the tension builds at each new milestone of their relationship, from the moment they hold hands for the first time, to their first kiss, to their first heavy kiss, to the first time Arima Sōichirō touches Miyazawa Yukino's breasts (done extremely tastefully, I might add), to when he finally confesses that he wants to make love to her.

My 18-year old self seriously needed a cigarette after watching Kare Kano.

That's all pretty explicit subject matter for a show aimed at teenage girls, but it's exactly what made it so real to me. I loved Sailor Moon as much as the next 90's tween, but I couldn't identify with shojo magic the same way I could with Kare Kano. It was the series that made me realize that anime absolutely was a valid storytelling platform, as much as any Hollywood movie I saw.

Who knew hand-holding would be such a turn on?

I have bittersweet memories attached to Kare Kano. When I first discovered it in 2003, I was a year into what would turn into a seven-year romance with a former boyfriend, and so much of Kare Kano was relatable in my own relationship. Yukino and Sōichirō got their happy ending in the manga, and I... well, I got my own happy ending, albeit in a different way than I had imagined.  Still, I have photos to remember the good, and whenever I hear the instrumental tune of Yume no Naka E, I'm transported to a moment in time that my aching, cynical heart longs for.

As Yukino's father wisely said, "A day in high school is more precious than a moment in adulthood."

Step 13: Go Back To The Drawing Board (?)

What has two thumbs and is back at it again with the white Vans blog posts?

This girl!

Yes, my little jaunt to the Pacific Northwest for fun and fishing was great, but reality can only be pushed to the back burner for so long. A good friend of mine confided in me recently that she has been struggling with the frustrations of personal and professional failure, and boy howdy, do I understand those feels. So, Lindsay, if you're reading this, I'll have you know that I had not one but two rejection letters from agents waiting for me in my inbox when I got home.

Lucky me!

At this point, I'm feeling pretty lost and without direction. I've spent eight months working on something that has gone approximately nowhere, and I haven't the foggiest idea what to do now or how to move forward with my idea. Needless to say, my resolve is sinking faster than the Titanic.

My heart: I'll never let go!
My ego: :::is dead:::

While I was up in Portland I stopped by Powell's Books, which is a famous new and used bookstore that was simultaneously inspiring and depressing. Inspiring, because who doesn't get a hard-on when they walk into the literary equivalent of a pornography warehouse, and depressing, because JFC there are so many authors vying for the tiniest bit of real estate on a shelf. I ended up dropping $12 on a used copy of Five Centimeters Per Second, which is a manga adapted from an anime I had never heard of, but the tagline of "a love story that is as timeless as it is fleeting" tugged on my sucker heartstrings.

Nothing quite like the smell of unrequited love to make you cry in the morning.

I didn't even bother to watch the anime after reading the manga, because my choking sobs upon finishing the comic stopped me from punishing myself further. I'm not sure if it's a cultural difference, or if I'm the only one on the planet who likes happy endings, but the manga left me feeling very unsatisfied. Its depiction of love was almost too real, and if I wanted to make myself feel shitty about failed relationships, I think I'd have more fun sorting through photos of my old boyfriend and drowning myself in a bottle of Jack Daniels.

Obligatory "weeping my way down memory lane" gif.

Still, the art was beautiful, and it made me consider re-adapting Defining Lines into its original graphic novel form. There's something powerfully intimate about a story unfolding in images without the burden of a bunch of extraneous narration. Some of my favorite pages from comics don't even need words; the pictures do more to tell the story than any dialogue could accomplish.

Provided without context.

Step 12: Overshare

Not much to report on the last couple of days. I got two more rejections on my query...

Surprise, bitch!

...but that's okay, because I've been keeping busy. I went to a Decades party with my husband on Saturday where I dressed up as David Bowie:

There's a starman waiting in the sky...

And I'm headed to central Oregon tomorrow to do a little trout fishing with my friend and Dark Horse Comics VP Randy Stradley:

'murica!

That means I probably won't be doing much in the way of updated my blog while I'm gone, but I haven't had a lot to write about since the weekend anyway, unless all two of you readers want to hear about my filthy dōjinshi habit.

What's that?  You do want to know all about my Freudian complex?

Oh, all right, I'll just tell you. It goes like this: Every time I watch Rurouni Kenshin, I inevitably get the itch to read the manga in order to satisfy my need for resolution (because as far I'm concerned, the Jinchū arc is the only true ending to Kenshin). And then after I've sobbed over just how good it is, I begin to crave more, which is pointless because it's been seventeen years since the comic ended and we clearly aren't going to see the Revenge chapters animated anytime soon.

Fuck you, Studio DEEN, for being the biggest cock-blockers in anime.

So, what's a fangirl to do? Well, Archive of our Own has a plethora of Rurouni Kenshin fanfiction that I tap into occasionally, when desperate sexytimes call for desperate measures. I'm not a huge fan of fanfiction, mostly because if someone is a good enough writer, they're probably publishing their own books and not goofing off in the playground of someone else's intellectual property. Not saying that there isn't any good fanfiction out there, but it's less of a treasure trove and more of a jewelry box, so to speak.

However.

Japan has a thriving market of dōjinshi--fan comics--that have trickled their way onto the internet. Some of them are light little fluff-pieces, but the majority of them range from fairly explicit to holy-shit-this-would-make-a-sailor-blush. (Which, if you haven't figured out yet, is obviously fine by me.) And Rurouni Kenshin happens to have some of the very best dōjinshi money or bittorrent can buy.

Literally the most SFW page in this particular story I can post without getting flagged for smut.

The above image is drawn by a dōjinshi circle named Meiji Jyaya, and their art style is eerily uncanny to Watsuki Nobuhiro's, the author of Rurouni Kenshin. Their books are my favorite precisely because of how similar they are to the source material, but if it's the hardcore stuff you're after, look no further than Yamaguchirow.

I can't actually show you a page from Yamaguchirow, so here is Kaoru's reaction if she saw it instead.

Unfortunately, I've mined the internet for just about all the RK dōjinshi Japan has to offer short of flying my ass to the Land of the Rising Sun and selling my organs for some of the rarer books. But I'm nothing if not entirely inventive when left to my own devices, and I'm also a fairly competent illustrator, so not long ago I took a stab at drawing some of my own Rurouni Kenshin dōjinshi:

Kenshin: Kaoru-dono... This one wanted to tell you...
Kaoru: Are you going to fuck me already, or what?

I even went so far as to thumbnail 99 whole pages of a story, which is hilarious, but I'm sure I'll never get around to actually drawing them all. I mean, come on--even I have a life outside of my fandoms, yanno?

And also I can't read half of the notes I wrote in the margins so that's honestly the biggest problem I'm having right now.

I can't tell if Kaoru is biting her thumbnail or giving Kenshin a blow job.

Step 10: Break The Mold

As you might have heard, Prince passed away yesterday.

Farewell, my sweet... uh... well, you know.

I'm not going to claim to be the biggest Prince fan out there. I don't even know all the lyrics to "Purple Rain", which is, like, the anthem of the 80's. In fact, I'm more familiar with the pop culture references surrounding him than the man himself.

Want some pancakes?

But, as with most people who haven't been living under a rock since The Beatles broke up, Prince has had a subtle influence on me in a very specific way. Another artist that we lost this year had a particular sway over me in much the same way.

You've probably never heard of him.

I've been a David Bowie fan since his turn as the Goblin King in the Jim Henson film Labyrinth.  I'm not sure if a three-year-old can have a sexual awakening, but I knew as soon as I laid eyes on the Thin White Duke's barely-veiled, uh... lil' Ziggy, I would be forever enamored by the shapeshifting chameleon once know as Aladdin Sane.

[HEAVING BREATHING]

I went on to become an avid follower of Bowie's music--Life On Mars? is a personal favorite--but, truth be told, it was his stage personas that attracted me even more than his musical prowess. Like Prince, he was a master at pushing the boundaries of sexuality and gender, which is something that has held a curious appeal to me for as long as I could remember.

I have yet to meet anyone who makes a pink boa and pearls look this fabulous.

Gender is a funny thing. I personally identify as cisgender, but I've always been captivated by men who weren't afraid to explore their feminine side. Whereas other people might be repulsed by a man in a dress, I find it intriguing--provocative, even. Not that I fetishize trans or gender-nonconforming individuals, but at the same time, I'm drawn to the idea of questioning what it means to be a man or a woman. Neither Prince nor Bowie gave any fucks as to what others thought when they shattered the image of conventional masculinity; in their minds, rules were made to be broken.

Exhibit A.

Nowadays, with questions surrounding gender being a part of modern dialogue, one could argue that the gender-bending trope is so last year, an old idea scarcely worth mentioning. Most people with atypical gender identities don't want to be solely defined by how they present themselves, and see it as little more than a footnote in their overall lives. Still, we wouldn't even be having this (non)conversation if people like Prince and David Bowie hadn't been pioneers in breaking down the walls of traditional gender roles like the goddamned Kool-Aid man riding in on a glitter-encrusted unicorn. For that, I applaud them both.

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today 2 get through this thing called '2016'.

Step 9: Embrace The Hay-ters

I want to take a moment to talk a little bit about a special dude in my life.

*sniff sniff*

No, not my husband (although he's pretty special too). Well, I don't know--what do you call a companion you've been with for nearly twenty years? Four-legged spouse? Significant fur-baby? Whatever. He's my horse, Niles, and he's a total babe.

Maybe he's born with it; maybe it's Neigh-belline.

Niles (pretentious registered name: FF Bey Ovation) and I go way back. Our life-long love affair started in the fall of 1997, when I was on the search for the perfect mount to satiate my ever-growing desire for a show horse. My friends and I piled into a car and drove a few hours away to the barn of an Arabian horse trainer named Lance Curtis, where we anticipated being presented a half-Arabian bay mare for consideration.  Instead, they brought out a skinny, purebred chestnut gelding with chrome for daaaaaays. The rest, as they say, is history.

Love at first derp.

Niles is truly a special gem, and I'm not just saying that because he's mine. Generally speaking, Arabian horses are bred to be extremely specialized, which means that if you want a laid-back western mount, you best not be looking for a horse sired by IXL Nobel Express (unless you have a sick sense of humor). Niles is unique in that he excelled in multiple disciplines beyond the one we intended him for.

He was a Regional Top Five winner in Country English Pleasure...

...a Scottsdale Top Ten winner in Arabian Mounted Native Costume...

...a Youth Nationals Top Twenty winner in Purebred English Show Hack...

...and even went on to win a Scottsdale Reserve Championship in Arabian Hunter Pleasure...

So... yeah. Niles truly is one of a kind, in my book, and it's unlikely I'll ever have another horse like him in my lifetime.  We've been through some rough times together, like barn fallouts and ligament surgery...

Never pass up an opportunity to turn lemons into hilarious lemonade.

...but nineteen years later, we've make it through thick and thin. Niles was never an easy horse to ride--even at 23, his Huckleberry Bey blood makes me feel like I'm riding a controlled explosion (and you can forget ever hacking around on him in a mere snaffle)--but he never ceased to challenge me as an equestrian, and I recently contemplated getting him back into show shape and possibly entering him in a sidesaddle class. But he's earned his retirement, and I certainly wouldn't want to mar his record from the last time I showed him in 2008--three for three in blue ribbons!

Niles never did win a National Championship, but I've considered immortalizing him in a future novel ala Cammie's Choice. Maybe then he'll finally get to wear the blanket of roses he deserves.

TBH he'd probably try to eat them.