Snarky comics & other works by Brad DeMaagd

Merry Christmas all

2011-12-25T04:13:00.001-08:00

Greetings insomniacs!
It's Christmas Day in Portland, Oregon! Have a good one!

Two months of musings and eye surgery #2 shall be shared another time.

Enjoy!

The New 52, month number 2.

2011-10-30T19:48:00.000-07:00

And Break!

October draws to a close and I've received a second round of comics related to the new 52. I'm going to briefly touch a couple highlights and a casualty of war.

Wonder Woman, Justice League Dark, and Birds of Prey all have kept my interest and feel the most refreshing of the new titles. The writing has been solid and I'm looking forward to each new issue. These are probably the best books I have been buying.

The Bat books feel familiar, yet it is fun to see the changes. Three titles stand out for me , thus far. They are listed in order of interest: Batgirl , Batwoman , and Batman. Nightwing is hanging on by a thread, and I'll decide it's fate after issue 4 wraps up this arc. I'm not sure how this portrayal of Dick Grayson compares with what he grew up to become in the old DCU. Detective Comics fell victim to the ax as I walked away from Issue 2 feeling it was going for gore over substance, and didn't fit what Detective Comics was in my mind.

. Lastly, comes Animal Man and Swamp Thing, books that my wife requested since she has many of their original run under Vertigo from back in the 90's. Both characters are fairly new to me, so I've enjoyed learning about these characters.

On the whole, I think with some titles the new DCU is still trying to get it's sea legs. Controversy over the cheesecake factor and sexual situations in Catwoman and Red Hood and the Outlaws isn't unexpected with how DC's marketing tried to make this feel like this supposed to be a step away from what came before. I believe what the relaunch is trying to do is to infuse a taste of Cable TV into comics with a bit more skin, more gore, and characters in adults situations.

Since Cable TV is already part of the adult culture it won't feel like such a stretch, but more importantly this is a part of the American culture that younger readers have grown up seeing on TV and online at a far younger age than their parents. The end result is trying to make superhero and non superhero comics stop feeling like a "kid" thing. I left most of my comics buying behind when I was in college because of that "kid" concept, and only returned in my 30's when I started working with people on writing projects in the field to study how they're telling stories visually and with the written word, compared to my literature focus in college.

That's all for now, hope to have more musings another time.

And fall is here...

2011-10-09T13:42:00.000-07:00

As the clouds and rain signal the return of fall to Portland, I shall take a moment to remember the summer that wasn't. 1..2..and we're done. Blog posting remains a impulsive event, which i realize now is as it should be , since I've had other things to occupy my mind.

Finally picked up the last round of the new DCU comics from September. Hoping to put a top 3 from that bunch up n the blog for the fun of it..Later all.

Sweet, sweet insomnia and comics

2011-09-18T04:27:00.000-07:00

Greetings huddled masses,
Another night of interrupted sleep and so in honor, of the event. I decided to give some brief thoughts of some comics I recently procured. Small disclaimer, I'm a bigger buyer of DC/Vertigo titles than Marvel, so you'll see more titles from them than the other. Nothing personal, just when I started reading comics roughly 20 years ago, i picked up Batman: Shadow of the Bat #1 and was hooked.
Buckle up, this will be as spoiler free as possible.

All DC books take place as of the September relaunch of DC, when everything is starting at #1.

Justice League #1 - I'm not a Justice League follower, never bought the old comics. I knew who they were, but my JL was probably still stuck in the Superfriends cartoon I grew up watching as a kid. Still, for a jump on issue for the entire relaunch, it had some nice moments. Green Lantern was cock sure, and Batman was only mildly paranoid Seeing these first time encounters should be interesting, enough to make me buy issue 2. Artwork overwhelmed at times, but manageable.

Action Comics #1 - Bought this after hearing how good it was on podcasts and comic sites. I enjoyed the artwork, I found myself wrestling with Morrison's story in parts, since I tend to have points in most of his books where I hate part of it and like the other half. The 2nd half of the tale was more interesting to me, than the first half where I felt Superman resembled Batman more in his approach to criminals, and we already have a Batman. If you hated untouchable Superman, it's fun to see him a bit more vulnerable again.

Detective Comics #1 - So far, the darkest of the new titles. Not unexpected for a Batman book, but you could almost slap a Vertigo brand on this title and it might fit. Fanboy gripe, they draw Batman with stubby bat ears, reminds me of Frank Miller's Batman. Aesthetically, I'm partial to the Batman look I grew up with, when he had ears pointy enough to impale his foes, or maybe that was the 70's. Anyway, Batman on the grisly trail of the Joker. Following Snyder's Detective run , the shift in storytelling is a bit abrupt, but I'm in for the next few books on this anyway.

Batgirl #1 - One of my most anticipated titles on the list because of the change they made to Barbara Gordon/Oracle, and I dug Oracle. To see her back as Batgirl and most importantly to see the impact of who she was have consequences was executed in a panel of pure perfection in this issue. Jaw dropped. This book of all the Bat books felt both young and vital matching it's character's mood, and yet tempered by fear. Buy it!

Batwoman #1 - I'll admit I came to his character in the past in brief glimpses, finally caving when I heard DC was going to keep her around. Kate Kane's character in and out of costume is one of the most intriguing in comics, and her growing role in Gotham is fun to watch. Story in this issue is a solid point, giving new readers enough background in 2 pages, to get an idea of where she's coming from. Artwork and panel layout is off the charts, and Mr. Williams continues to treat each page as canvas, not a box to be filled in.
Another buy it book!

Whew, DC'd out. Ok let's drag Marvel over.

Fear Itself #6 - After a couple issues where I felt the main story seemed to drag, we approach the 2nd last issue and more than anything I wanted to see all the shiny new toys Tony Stark has made in the hands of their owners, but that'll be next month. Not sure how much impact this event miniseries will have, but it's always felt like it's setting up for something big, just not sure if we see the end result in issue 7 , or if this is ACT I of a larger saga.

Ultimate Spiderman #1 - Do I need to tell you Peter Parker is dead in the Ultimate line of Marvel comics? I'll assume not. This is the origin story of how the new Spider man, Miles Morales get's his powers. Bitten by a spider engineered by OZ Corp? The heck you say! Kid from Brooklyn. What sold me is the kid and the relationships between his parents and Uncle. Honest and engaging. I'm looking forward to how Miles handles what's been thrust upon him since he doesn't have the same touchstone that Peter did with his Aunt May.

Lastly, Vertigo. Only one book.

Unwritten #28 (#29 is sitting next to me now) - I've been on board since Issue 1 and it remains the one book that reels me in month after month, even when between issues I ponder stepping away. So many mysteries are yet to be solved, and I believe some shall remain unsolved. If you're not reading it, you should be. Does it resemble Harry Potter ,or even more closely Books of Magic? Yes, but considering this is a book exploring the power of Storytelling as much as the characters lives. It works. My third Buy it book. This is not a jump on issue, you'd be best served by finding the trade of the earlier issues.

Here what I still have left to read from this week: Criminal: Last of the Innocent #4, The Goon #35 , Swamp Thing #1, Transformers #25, and Unwritten #29

Portland's Summer has Arrived!

2011-09-08T06:14:00.000-07:00

5:50 AM PST Temp: 70''s Portland's summer is wrapping up with a vengeance a string of 90 degree plus days and the mighty Sun god blasting down upon the city. I find myself amused by the fact that the kids are all back in school during such weather instead of crowing the local malls. Managed 4 hours sleep in this heat, so I'm back in front of a screen.

Back to some regular thoughts, Reading Churchill's The Gathering Storm, reached year 1938 and it is an instructive journey through the mindset of the man who will lead Britain through the war, but ,also, shows the ineptitude of most governments getting anything done in a timely manner. In some e ways, it seems to show that politically many governments don't want to be progressive, but are at their best as reactionary bodies -- most being instigated by war or disaster. 4 more years left to go on this text in the old Kindle.

In the land of paper and ink, started picking at Malcolm X: A Life of Reinvention , an American icon that polarizes individuals. I've spent more time studying Malcolm's life / place in history than the other civil rights figures of his age. I own a copy of Haley's Autobiography and one of the FBI File books on Malcolm, back when I was a younger man. I'm looking forward to see what information is new and if the way it's presented helps fill in gaps of information missing from Haley's highly read text.

Writing has been lighter these past couple weeks due to changes in household members at the end of summer and trying to cram in some summertime events when my wife and I managed the same days off. In a string of unexpected moves, I have a 4 day weekend, which works out nicely since I worked on Labor day, under which I'll be holed up trying to stay cool, and working on my own pieces as time allows.

Final thoughts: DC Comics new 52 relaunch. I find myself energized so far each week about being able to read the "new" titles since in a way, some characters feel more accessible now, than jumping on at issue 500 or so. Granted I've been reading comics going on 20 years on and off, and DC tends to be my favored brand, but it is nice to feel excited by meeting characters again and seeing how they change and how they stay the same. Blame the Star Trek reboot everyone for this event. Until next time

2011-08-21T04:31:00.000-07:00

Time: 4 am PST. Location: My apartment Outside Temp (weather channel): 60 degreesApt temp (based on discomfort level): 90. Inability to sleep? Guaran-damn-teed. So, guess what? I'm awake. Pdx (Portland, OR) finally cracks 90 degrees, first time all summer. In response, my apartment is surrounded my still unmoving air, which means the apt sits with only fans to help move it around. This wouldn't be so bad, but the 2 that I have are concentrated in the middle of the dinning living room to keep the slumbering 16 year old from burning up and catching fire. (cue Beavis) Writing this week, has been minimal minus scribbling down a few notes. The reading from has been slightly more productive, but not by much. Spent a bit more time just hanging with the nephew before we send him back east on Thursday.Reading Churchill, left him in the year 1934. Hitler's Chancellor or freshly appointed. Probably pick that back up this week.Reading Salvatore's Orc King, mostly after work. Reading now after all the events in the last 2 books in Transitions and the first book in the Neverwinter arc, I realize that this is Salvatore/Drizzt's most depressig book. Not because we start to see the mortality of Drizzt and his Companions, since (and I could be wrong) at least 3 of them have been "dead" once before and Wulfgar came back from the Abyss. More interestlngly it's the fact that Drizzt's small journal entries , for lack of a better description, dwell mostly on the loss of old friends and the struggle to retain hope. Perhaps showing the aging of it's creator, or the simple fact that as time goes on and things change, even our closest friends may not be able to join you on the entire journey.What did work this week was my comic book run on Friday: The Winners: Detective Comics #881 wraps up Snyder's arc starring James Gordon (Jim) and his return to Gotham. The best endcap to the Batman titles pre DCnU. Touches on the past, but lets you nod your head to Dick Grayson's run as Batman. The other two batbooks I read: Batman & Robin 26 and Batman 773 were a bit flat, although the artist , GREG TOCCHINI, on Batman and Robin was stellar. Ultimate Fallout over takes Fear Itself. By the end of fallout six, I was really jazzed to see what the new Ultimate Spiderman and universe will look like post Peter Parker kicking it. Fear Itself feels like it's still simmering , waiting to boil. Seems like an odd perspective since their are 7 "villians" running around with giant hammers of the gods smashing shit, but I keep hearing about the events in the tie in books being more enjoyable. However, 2 more issues might up the ante enough to call it a solid impact miniseries. Transfomers #23, the Chaos story which is overtaking Transformers for the rest of 2011, could become thee Transformers event. For longtime fans, it was a series that was telling more interesting stories in the comics that have been put out by IDW, but this could truly move the characters beyond their earth , Cybertron focus and push them in a new direction. I've rambled too long. Until next time...Snarky for Prez!

Final thoughts on finished readings and a bit of Snarky

2011-08-14T07:23:00.000-07:00

Where to begin? Maybe the fact that I've been up since 2:44 am (I think) for no damn good reason. Wanted to give you some thoughts, I only seem to ever get to posting on insomnia nights/mornings (7 am now).

On the reading front, I finished Robin Fox's Alexander the Great biography. What started off as a fairly interesting piece, but bogged down in the end. The author's goal is to impress upon the reader what is part of legend and what may be reasoned as fact, but it's done during the entire length of the book and by the end weighs down any impression of what Alexander had accomplished at the point in human history.
The text might have been better suited to be turned into 2 parts: Alexander the Legend and Alexander the Man since we are so far removed from that time and the sources the author used have are in dispute on some level. This book, I wouldn't recommend to someone just starting to learn about Alexander as I was, but someone who has read a different biography or two prior.

The more enjoyable text ended up being the old reliable Weiss & Hickman's Dragonlance: Chronicles omnibus since despite it's massive size as a single volume was fast paced and full of more memorable moments than I remembered.

What am I reading now? On the Kindle, Churchill's The Gathering Storm , which already feels less of a burden than Alexander was , and more accessible since I grew up studying world war 2 , outside of school, since my grandfathers served in the war.

By the bedside, another old friend, R.A. Salvatore's The Orc King book is being reread for the first time a couple years. I may end up getting a Kindle version to replace my paperback since I realized recently how much they shrank and thinned the text size. Earlier books , the text was a bit larger and lettering a bit bolder which made it relaxing to read. This book feels like they tried to cram in more onto the page.

Lastly, "The Tao of Snarky" comic. Rattled of 3 pages, 1000+ quota for a future scene in issue 3. Outline is still hand written, but these were typed on the PC. I ended up shrinking down a jail scene from it's original 3-4 page length on an older draft, down to 2 pages, but used it to highlight what I intended it do all along. Scribbled out some notes on future events and ties that will play beyond this issue and larger story arc of the series. Still pleased with the progress for today,all before 8 am PST.

Minor points

2011-07-31T10:42:00.000-07:00

No earthshaking events directly related to my writing or reading. Nearly finished reading Weiss & Hickman's Annotated Chronicles. Nice to still have some scenes feel fresh since they're not as seared into my brain , the way other well read texts have been. 65% of the way through the Alexander the Great biography I'm reading and his death is finally looming on the horizon. I'm still on the fence wheather I would recommend this text to another person as a starter text on this historical icon.

DC comics relaunch and subsequent uproar over the lack of women writers, artists and lead characters among the new 52 comics line coming out in September has made me question what titles I thought I would check out. In an industry that is doing its best to stay relevant, to alienate 1/2 of the humans on planet earth isn't ideal. Growing up with comics as teenager, I was drawn more to characters than the writers or artists at first, only as I grew to learn more about the industry and have dipped my foot in the waters , do some of these imbalances seem more impractical to my eyes 20 years later.

Oddly quiet Sunday morning at the house, this naturally make me restless, and since I spent my allotted 30 mins scanning over the news stories online and checking social websites to make sure half world didn't blow up. I feel my work here is done.

Reading observances

2011-07-21T16:33:00.000-07:00

Finished Vonnegut's Man without a Country at work the other day, while things were slow. Amused me for the most part, and I found myself wanting to read more Mark Twain's works (beyond the traditional school requirements) and curious about his autobiography that was recent put on shelves.

Still working through R. Fox's Alexander the Great on my Kindle. Alexander has been away from Macedonia for 3 yars, it's year 327 BC at this point in his saga. I was struck by the thought of how his subjects back home, remained loyal for the most part to a King they never saw? My perspective is probably skewed by the traditional media and internet resources available for people to keep informed (as much as is allowed) of what our President and governing body does in D.C. (2,800 plus miles away). Is it simply because only a few people truly want to lead?

One disadvantage I find from time to time when I work on my outlines or early rough drafts is that my handwriting is still atrocious. Sometimes, it can be a puzzle to figure out what I've written, but eventually my brain recalls where I was headed. I could type everything up, but since I work 10 hour days in front of a PC to pay the bills. My eyes grow to hate the monitor screens and at times, I find typing rather robotic.

TTFN.

2:47 am

2011-07-14T03:14:00.000-07:00

Awake at an unplanned hour.

Couple thoughts about two books I'm reading through.

My travel text (via Kindle) is a biography on Alexander the Great. I managed to reach chapter 18 this week. It's a slower told story, possibly because of the Greek names, mythological figures, and other aspects of the ancient world. In some cases, I've found myself craving an atlas to have alongside the tale, just to better visualize some of his movements. I don't expect this text to be done quickly since I'm about 35% through the story after only 18 chapters.

Bedside reading comes in the form of an actual book, The Annotated Chronicles by Weiss & Hickman. I'm estimating it's weight at approximately 3 lbs. Having owned the 3 volumes as separate books previously, the annotated omnibus took their place. Differing from some of my other annotated collections, it's not so overstuffed with time period facts such as one of my Sherlock Holmes collections, but has the authors talking in maybe a sentence or two on average about where a certain scene, character, or line of dialogue sprang from. A nice glimpse into how the creative process works, and how random things can crop up as useful storytelling pieces.

Today (Thursday June 14th) will either being a Snarky day or Pirate Brad day, once my eyes are ready to focus on a page or at the glowing white page on my monitor. As I wrote this, I've been listening to the Clash's London Calling album.

Later.

Google Plus and the ol blog

2011-07-10T04:07:00.000-07:00

Well, trying out Google+ since I'm awake at 3 am. Possibly hitting the coast in a couple hours. Snarky #1 of the Cutting Edge arc is coming soon. Once it's fully wrapped, info will be updated. Starting scribbling down thoughts for Issue 3.

All the latest pages can be seen at: www.j2comics.blogspot.com.

This thing still exists?

2011-05-25T01:32:00.000-07:00

So insomnia has taken hold and I decided to see if my old blogspot page existed. Amazingly enough it still does. Snarky has been reborn as a weekly page over at www.j2comics.blogspot.com. Once issue 1 is wrapped up, I'll link to it here as well. Hopefully, I'll at least post a weekly update either with some general musings, or thoughts about the Tao of Snarky and other things that pop into my head.

Still out there

2010-01-04T22:40:00.001-08:00

The tail end of 2009 just dissolved into a blur and I stumble into 2010 retyping lost Snarky tales, creating a new one, and chomping at the bit to return to Creekbend. Looking forward to Stumptown 2010.

small hiatus

2009-11-25T20:27:00.000-08:00

A computer SNAFU a month back, has put a small hold on the Creekbend Western Tale. It will be returning soon as possible. Until then, Happy Thanksgiving to all.

Windows SNAFU

2009-10-12T20:10:00.000-07:00

After rising early this morning, I reurned to my machine, only to have Windows tell me a sart up file was corrupt. Alas, it was so corrupt, I couldn't even get into safe mode to trouble shoot or save files on the machine. Needles, to say stuff was wiped out of existence . My consolation prize is I do most of my work by hand first and then type it up, so a least a majority of the rough drafts of my articles have survived. I can't say the same for the photographs that had been imported to the machine from my camera, but what's done is done. New Creekbend will be coming sooner rather than later.

Delayed..

2009-10-09T21:29:00.001-07:00

So, my planned Sept. blog post for the Creekbend Western was delayed by life. Illness and general craziness. Have no fear a double helping shall arrive in Oct. The Orig Sept post and the Oct post. Preferrably the start of next week, until then, I'll be at my day job.

The Fringe Effect

2009-09-21T04:59:00.000-07:00

September free time seems to have been swallowed up by Fringe and Big Bang Theory, and stomping through Arkham as the Dark Knight. All this and I still have Pearl Jam to see live in 6 days! Still, managed to get some time in Creekbend, and will be posting that at the end of the month.

A snake sneaks out...

2009-08-30T04:48:00.000-07:00

Latest bit in the Creekbend tale, picking up from where the story to date (seen on the right hand side of your screen) we return to Creekbend, just moments before Deputy Ned sees the Sheriff's laid out in the office. Enjoy.
---
Cort took in the general store, canned goods were on most of the walls, bulk good were near the counter. A couple young kids were ordering the eldery man behind the counter to show them what was in different candy jars.
“I want the black licorice!” exclaimed the blonde haired young girl. Cort guessed she might’ve been six. Her homemade dress showed a patch at the bottom of the skirt along her left leg. Her hair was tied up in pony tails.
“Ewww, Emmie, ” her companion said, a boy resembling her in appearance, shorter by about six inches. He was giving his sister a quizzical look of disgust.
Cort started to step a bit closer to the counter, when the gunshots from outside sounded. Four pairs of eyes turned. Cort moved first, he held out his left hand motioning the scared children back, as he stepped halfway out the doorway to see what was going on.
A cluster of people seemed to funneling toward the Sheriff’s office, but he could see the dust rail kicked up by a fleeing figure. A suspicion tried to form in Cort’s mind, but the young girls voice asked ,”Is it safe, mister?”

Cort saw no attention or threat directed their way. “Looks that way, but sit tight for a bit.”

The ground pounded under the horse’s hooves as Louis Odell fled town. The white and gray colored horse pushed on as Odell dug his spurs in. He’d left the rooftops of the southern end of Creekbend behind him . He’d turned the horse to the southwest, heading toward where the ranchers would be.
In his right holster rested one of the Sheriff’s guns that he’d taken, blood stained the butt of the gun. In his left, Cort’s gun sat, making a mismatched pair. He glanced back over his right shoulder, no one yet, but Odell knew they’d be coming. Maybe not the Sheriff, but probably his deputy and he might drag a few locals in.
Odell pushed the horse hard, he should still have enough time. Rickett’s was dead. The Sheriff had dangled that noose in front of Odell all morning; Odell’s word had no weight against the Peters. With Rickett’s death, the noose around his neck would tighten since Rickett had tried to muscle those boys into backing down, implicating Odell further.
Odell smugly grinned as the name on the arch came closer into focus, lettering carved out of the wood began to be more distinguishable. Odell wasn’t innocent in the first place, but he wasn’t going to hang just for making a living. Those boys had cost him his partner. He’d deal with them first, after that he’d deal with that Reb who’d gunned down his partner.

Odell unsheathed the Sheriff’s gun. He passed under the sign reading Peters Ranch. The house was just off the road that sloped down to the ranchland, stable closest to the road. He would hit them fast and hard, before they knew it was him.
--
The Peters Ranch

Tom was asleep in the main room, and Michael Peters walked past. His brother throat was wrapped up. The doctor had been able to close the wound, but it had been difficult and taxing on his brother. Rest and a general order to keep him quiet had been the treatment. Tom had asked a couple of the boys from the neighboring lands to see if they could help him out a bit with the herd. They’d had a bit more volunteers than he expected. Today, only Jessie was needed.
Tom glanced out one of the main windows, looking toward the land that stretched out before him. He could see the horizon line where the grass met the sky.
He picked up the glass of water that Michael had been nursing, half empty. He circled around the couch where Tom slept to head back toward the kitchen.
Gunshots broke the midday silence, Tom dropped the glass without a thought. His steps breaking into a run and grabbing the rifle off the hooks over the front door, he turned to look at Michael who was now wide awake. Looking at his brother, Tom shook his head and pointing to his own eyes. He slid the gun over to his brother who picked it up, and checked it was armed. Tom pulled out his own pistol from the holster at his right side. His mother would’ve been mortified that he carried it around in the house, but she was buried and gone.

Getting ready to saddle up again in Creekbend

2009-08-23T02:40:00.001-07:00

The Aug addition to the Creekbend story should be up soon. Now that I have some time free, I'll be hoping to get something up by the end of this week. More blood, more bullets, and more Cort.

Before teh Dawn

2009-08-11T06:41:00.001-07:00

Today, on my day off, don't ask why, but I stumbled out of bed and shaved , etc. all before 5 30 am PST. Clearly I'm imbalanced.

More creekbed coming soon

2009-07-29T12:55:00.000-07:00

While a heatwave strikes Oregon, the death of a horse thief has set in motion events that will draw Cort further into the affairs in Creekbend. Coming soon...

Minor attempt

2009-07-22T14:23:00.001-07:00

A minor attempt at laying out creekbed start to finish to date, since it won't let me archive it seperately, thus far.

despite the heat

2009-07-18T19:57:00.000-07:00

Seems like 90 degree days in Oregon keep me indoors and forces me to put pen to paper instead of wandering about town..is that good or bad..another Creekbend bit coming soon..

Day 2 in Creekbend

2009-07-12T12:26:00.000-07:00

Back at Brennigan's.

Brennigan came to the end of story, “So Father Michael took her in as a kid. He’s the only ‘family’ she has left in these parts.”

Cort nodded his head once and reached for his change pouch. He managed to scrape out some legal tender to cover the small breakfast. He frowned a bit as he looked over his remaining money.

"Runnin' a bit low?" Brennigan gave the pouch a glance as he spoke. Ned was putting it back into his pocket.

"Seems that way. Might be leavin' sooner than planned. Unless you know where I can make some quick coin?"

Brennigan wiped the bar off where Cort's meal had been. "Best bet is to head further north into town. More people up there than here at the southeast end, I thought I heard from one of my stable boys , Eddie, that he grocer was shorthanded. He might need somebody to do some stocking and unloading. His joints pain him too much for that work anymore."

Cort nodded, "Alright, I'll check it out. Need to stretch my legs anyhow. Later." Cort headed toward the doors.

Brennigan called out to Cort, "Keep wide of that Sheriff, boy."

--

Ned was seated alone at one of the window tables in restaurant across from the Crown Royale hotel. He was facing the street watching people go past for a good half hour. Ned was ready to order his 3rd beer, when Cort came walking up the sidewalk. He was looking for a few moments at the Royale's restaurant, but he didn't give any inclination he could make out Ned seated inside. The Reb's face turned back, watching the road ahead of him.
Ned got up, dropping some money on the table. Leaving his beer behind, Ned mumbled to himself, "Bout dang time, he got antsy."

More to come

2009-07-01T15:34:00.000-07:00

As time and anniversary's caught me offguard this month, I didn't have the full entry done on June 30th. Therefore, I present it today, expect more entries -- perhaps smaller to make it easier to read in July.

- Ned's duty-

Deputy Ned Billingham stayed a step behind on the right hand side of his boss. Ned's brown hair was cut short enough to keep it out of his eyes, clean shaven, his white skin hadn't acquired the natural tan from the desert sun. He was 5 ft 8 inches, he'd grown up a as a sheriff's son back in Kansas. His father had died 8 years ago. Ned's mother moved back east to her closest family, but Ned wanted to start fresh. The war dragged him into the fighting in Missouri, by a bad turn of luck.
Now, he followed in his father's steps as a lawman. Cutler was tough, he expected obedience not questions. Over the years, Ned wondered if Cutler's boys had ran from their father to the war, in order to escape him. They wouldn't be the first boys to think war would make them into men, into heroes. Ned did have to give Cutler credit, he was the oldest lawman Ned had ever met, who still walked his town. Still Ned began to wonder how long he would stay a deputy.
Ned noticed Cutler held the Reb's gun tightly in his left hand. The Sheriff didn't return any greetings his way, so Ned stepped into the role as greeter. He waited until they passed a pair of Creekbend's wealthier citizenry who were outside the Crown Royal Restaurant.
"You gave that Reb a line of shit Sheriff,:" Ned's parents raised him to respect his elders, but not wither under their age.
"Don't care about your opinion, Deputy. I can handle him however, I want." Cutler's right eye gave Ned a quick, stabbing glare.
"You know as well as I do, we won't get anyone in his town to hang him. Rickett and Odell had been given the ranchers fits for months." Ned pressed on.
Cutler spun on his right heel, turning to face his Deputy. The Reb's gun poked him in the chest. "You telling me how to do my job, boy?"
"No, sir" Ned backed off a step . His back bumped into the wall in front of the single bank that serviced the town.
"Then shut your mouth, Deputy. Let's get back to the office. Damned Reb's got me on edge for no good reason." Cutler walked across the street and Ned followed a minute later. The Sheriff's office was just north of the center of town, but conveniently placed with the local bank in plian view of their main window.of their office.

Once inside the office, Ned had shut the door and the Sheriff tossed Cort's gun onto the top of a safe that sat against the wall , behind the Sheriff's desk. Cutler looked toward the door that was closed leading to the back wing of the office where three jail cells were cut off from the main room. "Reckon' Odells thirsty by now."
Ned started to head toward the door, but Cutler held out his hand stopping him. "I'll deal with Odell today. Besides, if he didn't pick out that Rickett's dead from all the people's talk today. I want to break his thieving heart."
"Alright, Sheriff. What do you want me to do?" Ned stood, thumbs hooked into his gun belt.
"Follow that Reb while he's in town," Cutler ordered.
Ned held back the question that first protested this useless order. "Alright, I'll catch a bit down at the Royale. Figure that Reb's gonna be eating anyway. He's got to come north up the main road to get anywhere, anyhow."
"That Reb didn't just wander up here Ned, and happen to stumble into a gunfight." Cutler stated, maybe for Ned's benefit , or maybe not.
"How do you know that, Sheriff?"
"Strangers don't just start blasting away in a gunfight , unless they get shot at. People don't go looking for trouble. He knew something had been going on in town, he was prepared."
Ned didn't bother to point out that the Reb had shot Rickett after he'd shot one of the Peter's boys. He'd done it to save a life, but Ned knew the Sheriff refused to see that. At least, today. After all, this Reb had done the one thing Cutler and Ned hadn't been able to do "legally" against Rickett. The Reb had taken care of the man, permanently.
Ned nodded and headed out the door.

Coming soon

2009-06-27T08:35:00.000-07:00

Man, June has just flown by. However, another visit to Creekbend will be coming shortly.

Back in Creekbend, Cort meets the Sheriff.

2009-05-25T22:29:00.001-07:00

Below is the latest bit to the Creekbend stories....enjoy.

---

-- Meet the sheriff --

Dawn, the following day.

Cort woke up to a knocking at his door. The night before Louisa had shown him to his room on the 2nd floor of the inn, and he'd fallen asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. Sitting up, his eyes swept the room slowly getting oriented. The knocking continued.

Cort rubbed his face with the hands as he uttered, "Yeah?"

Louisa's voice carried into the room, "Best come down Mr. Anderson. The Sheriff has arrived."

Cort swung his legs around and his feet touched the ground, with a soft thump. "Right."

Cort made his way over to the small table, chair, and washbin that was across from his bed. Last night's, pants and shirt hung over the chair. His hat was atop the bedpost at the end of his bed, but he decided to leave it. His gun and the holster he snagged off the left bedpost near the top of the bed. His gun rested in the right holster, and he plucked the chain up and out of his left holster, which revealed a copper colored pocket watch attached to it.

6:18 am. Felt like it.

Cort exited his room and walked around the railed walway that encirlcd the top floor leading to the stairway in the NE corner of Brennigan's. Voices carried , in spurts, from down below. Cort guessed the main room was quieter this early in the morning than late at night. Cort thought he was probably the only traveller staying here overnight.

As Cort made his way down the stairway, an older man's voice caught his ear. The tone wasn't pleasant, it reminded Cort of his school teacher as a kid, lecturing him for making a mistake.

"Shouldn't have let that boy sleep here Irish. He could've skipped town as you and your Injun slept."

Cort's eyes caught sight of two men at the bar, one was the bright eyed face of Brennigan. He was pouring himself a cup of coffee as the man across from him spoke to him. The man was just over 6 feet tall, his white hat was pushed up from his brow, but gray hair was visible running down his neck and curling slightly at the neck collar of the man's red shirt. A brown vest was over his shoulders and gold colored glint could be picked out on the man's left breast. Two guns were stored in their holsters that circled his waste. Tan pants and boots completed his attire. His skin was tanned by the sun, but lines could be seen on his face, betraying an age, older than his own.

Brennigan lowed his cup after sipping his coffee. "The man doesn't have a reason to run like I told you Sheriff. Bet those Peter's boys might even call him a hero."

Cort saw the sheriff turn blue-gray eyes in his direction. He noticed a third man who was casually seated at the table nearest to the bar and the Sheriff. This man, also turned his head in Cort's direction. The gun and the glint of a badge meant he was a deputy. A morning beer rested near his left hand.

The sheriff turned to face Cort as Cort approached the bar. Cort gave a slght nod to Brennigan as he approached. Brennigan shot Cort a quick smile, but glanced left at the Sheriff as if to remind Cort to watch himself. The sheriff matched Cort in height, and Cort guessed the sheriff might be in his 50's, now that he could see the lines in his face and the gray in his hair more clearly. The sheriff offered no handshake, but got right into things.

"Cort Lee Anderson." The Sheriff stood upright, shifting from the lean he'd had going against the bar.

"I'm him, but you can skip the Lee. Cort's just fine." Cort rested his right hand against the bar as he talked, and he let his gaze shift to the deputy who was still seated , but watching everything.

" I'm Sheriff Cutler. You killed a man in my town last night, " The sheriff stated.

Cort nodded, and the fingers on his right hand tapped out the hold marching drumbeats softly on the tabletop of the bar. "From what folks told me, I saved you some trouble."

The Sheriff shot Brennigan an annoyed look, but returned his gaze to Cort.

"Most folks don't take killing a man so lightly, " The Sheriff pointed out.

Cort tried to keep an eye on the deputy and one on the Sheriff ss he replied, "I saw enough killing and did enough killing in the War. It's never taken lightly, Sheriff."

The Sheriff glanced at Cort's pistol as Cort spoke, and a disgusted smile appeared on his face as he fired a question at Cort,

"How long are you staying in my town, Johnny Reb?"

Cort noticed the deputy sat up straighter as his boss uttered those branding words. Cort fingers tapped out 'Dixie" as he replied.

"Maybe just a couple days.I got a road weary horse and I could use some R & R myself." Cort put on his best, casual smile.

The Sheriff gave a displeased harumpf and shortly followed a single whistle. Cort saw the deputy get to his feet and place his right hand near his gun in it's holster. Close, but not pulling out the gun.

Cort raised his left eyebrow, impressed at the training. His attention went back to the Sheriff as the man spoke.

"I'll need to take your gun while you're in town."

Cort gentle tapping stopped as he asked, "Come again?"

"Guns are not permitted in town limits. You turn it over and I'll keep it in a safe, and when you're ready to leave. You can come by and get it.

Cort leaned to his right, resting his weight against his right arm as it propped him up alongside the bar.

"Didn't seem to stop the lcoals. Both this Rickett's and those Peters' boys were packing iron.

Cutler's eyes flashed anger at the insult, and the deputy slipped his gun halfway up the holster, waiting for a signal.

"Ned, " Cutler barked.

Cort started to turn fully to his left side, but Ned had already drawn his revolver and was pointing it at Cort's face. Cort shifted a half step back.

"Hand it over, Mr. Anderson." came Cutler's order.

Cort got a quick nod from Brennigan, and Cort noted the deputy's hands didn't shake pointing the gun at his face. Cort began to pull his gun out of his holster. "Alright." Placing the gun on the bar, he slide it over to the Sheriff. "Keep it safe, Sheriff. It was my father's."

Cutler picked up the gun with his left hand and looked it over. Carrying it in his left hand, he moved away from the bar, ready to leave.

"After I talk to the other witnesses, I'm sure we'll talk again, Mr. Anderson."

The Sheriff walking out , gave a whistle. Deputy Ned, holstered his gun, flashed a smug grin at Cort , and followed behind his boss.

Cort looked to his right, to see Brennigan's shoulders relax. Brennigan pulled out a cup from under the bar, and gestured with the pot of coffee in his right hand. "Cup o' Joe?'

After a few sips of the coffee, Cort noticed Louisa come in from the kitchen. "That bastard gone?"

Brennigan gave a nod. "All clear."

Cort gave a quick smile, "What's Cutler's issue?"

Brennigan puts his own cup of coffee on the shelf behind him. He runs his left hand across his chin, "He blames the Rebs for loosing his two sons in the War. He blames the Indians, for being here first."

Louisa snapped as she, straightened the chairs form the where the deputy had sat. "The Nez Perce were here long before his mom spat him out."

Brennigan tried to lighten her mood, "I don't doubt ya darlin', but right now, you're better off laying low."

Brennigan looked at Cort as well, "You best do the same , whlle your here, Cort."

coming soon

2009-05-24T22:11:00.000-07:00

Finally on the med after being sick for about 2 weeks, planning to get the next segement of the Western story online this week, still making my May deadline. Looking forward to picking up some comics on Tuesday as well.

Ongoing

2009-05-03T13:42:00.000-07:00

May somehow crept up on me, but I survived the scare. Although to my annoyance, I couldn't find my original story notes for the Fountain comic I'm trying to flush out. Luckily, I have enough still in my head to restart it.

For the Creeksbend story featured below, I plan to have a 2nd adventure written up and posted by the end of the month. Portland has managed a few sunny days the past 2 weeks, which has all us locals in shock and unsure what that bright yellow orb is.

Until next time...

Welcome to Creekbend

2009-04-14T20:00:00.000-07:00

Evening Ladies and Gents,
Below you'll find the beginning of a new Western story, I'm hoping to make into a regular montly web entry. Let me know what you think.

---
Characters and location are fictional, copyright Brad DeMaagd @2009

Brennigan’s Boy

1871 – The Old West
Eastern Oregon – Town of Creekbend

His boots scuffled as he walked up the steps, his legs were sore and he stopped once at the plank sidewalk to stretch his body. His gray pants and red shirt had acquired a healthy brown dust from the journey in. He looked back over at his horse, tied to the rail, it bobbed its black head drinking from the troth nearby, a streak of brown lay over its right eye.

The man orders, “Stay there, Jeb.”

The man turned back to a bar whose name was scripted onto the window of the bar, Brennigan’s. He took off the drooping hat, giving it a smack on his pants and running a hand through his hair. He paused and touched the beard that had begun to fill on this trip. He’d want a shave soon.

Pushing through the swinging doors, Cort Lee Anderson entered a sight he’d seen many times already on his trip. Rounded tables with chairs, one in the far northwest corner played host to 4 old timers, working on winning each others drinking money. Couple younger men sat facing the door at another table. Their table was situated just out of line with the east facing window. This same window gave a view towards the road that led into town.

Across from this window was situated the bar – bottles lined the walls. Behind the bar, a tall man, bald headed, but sporting a neatly kept reddish-brown beard. He wore a white shirt, brown vest, an apron around his waist, covering his brown pants from view. His arms showed a previous life of hard labor. Cort wondered if he’d come with the trains.

The bartender was talking to a single barmaid. Her naturally tan skin made her stand out from every other sun burnt body in this place. Coal black hair was tied into a pony tail , that fell just below her shoulders. She wore a forest green dress, that purposefully hugged her assets. Cort for a moment, became a brief celebrity as all eyes swiveled toward him. The moment passed as they all returned to their duties, the waitress wandered around the north end of the bar, toward the kitchen. The bartender turned toward him a smile.

“Evenin’ lad. My name is Brennigan. What can I get you?”

“Shot of whiskey, “ Cort slid onto a stool, and tried not to sigh in relief. Beat a saddle’s daily abuse. Cort stopped the bartender with a reach of his hand, “And a water.”

The bartender gave a grin and headed to get the glasses, casting an eye over at his other customers. All too interested in other things, his eyes linked on the youngsters on the table , one of them always had their eyes on the front entry.

Cort dug out his pouch, pulling out coins and crumbled dollar bills. The bartender put down his drinks, but didn’t let them go as he saw the money.

“Son, we can’t take that money here,” The bartender lowered his voice , so as not to carry to the other customers. “Do ye have anything else?”

Cort paused and started to pick through his money. “Sorry, forgot I had it… I’ll …”

Brennigan, left the water, but pulled back the whiskey. “That’s on me lad. You keep looking.”

Brennigan set the drink under the counter and looked right as his doors swung inward, and he skipped his greeting. Instead, he reached for the gun he kept under the counter. Loaded and familiar, his Kerr revolver was all he’d kept after it ended.

Under his breath, Brennigan, the bartender muttered, “Damn that boy.”

Walking into the bar came the mustached figure of Hyde Rickett. Hyde’s dark grey eyes flashed from the newcomer, to Brennigan, to the old men, at the table, and to the two youngsters next. Rickett wore a black suit, red vest. The two youngsters appeared ready to get to their feet. Brennigan grumbled, “Aw hell.”

Now, standing the young men could be easier seen as brothers their age difference was minimal. Short blonde hair, it had been bleached by the sun, their sun worn skin marked them as outdoorsmen on some level. Blue button down shirts and jeans completed the out fit of the brother on the left, closest to the bar. The brother on the right wore jeans as well, but wore a white shirt. Neither men had their hats on , both were resting over the back of their chairs.

The kitchen door burst open as a young lad maybe 16 came running in, his shirt was untucked, which he vigorously tried to tuck back in. Lipstick was on his neck as he came in looking for Brennigan.

“Mr. Brennigan it’s --- Unnh!!”

Johnny Creek’s next works, “Hyde coming down the road.” died as the brother in blue had drawn his gun and fired at the boy thinking it was a trap. The boy crumbled as a smoking hole lay in the middle of his chest, blood dying the untucked shirt. Brennigan let out a curse as he went to grab the boy.

By now, guns were drawn, as Brennigan yelled at Louisa to go get the Dr and the Sheriff. The two youngsters were stepping away from their chairs, guns out. The fired gun still smoking from the shot. Hyde Rickett had his two colts trained on them.

Cort let his right hand slide towards his own pistol, waiting. He’d turned slightly on his stool to face the showdown. It had been his father’s gun in the war. It was the cleanest thing on him.

Rickett grinned at the two boys holding their guns at him, the left brother's gun shook just slightly. Rickett barely cared that Brennigan was yelling at him to take it outside ; that damned fool had his hands full trying to save a dead boy. Not even Doc. Weatherspoon could save him. Rickett had more important business.

“Alright boys, we got business to square away. You got my friend locked up and I aim to set him free. Now you drop them charges and you get to walk out of here,” Rickett walked toward the pair. Just putting Cort out of his view.

“Ain’t happening Rickett, Lucas stole our horses , we caught him and he’s going to hang for it.”

“Wrong answer Tom.”

Rickett’s gun barked first and took Tom in the neck, the boy’s shot went wide left taking out a piece of the wall as he fell holding his neck. Tom dropped his own gun, his blood dying his white shirt as he fell to his knees.
Michael shot, but Rickett had already stepped into the shot. Mike’s bullet hitting the wall, parallel to his brother, Cort pistol whipped Michael before he could aim again driving the boy back off his feet and his gun slipped out his right hand.

Rickett stood over the boy, “Drop them charges Michael and you might get to save your brother.”

“Up yours, Rickett!’ Micheal spat back.

“Damn, shame.” Rickett cocked his pistol. A shot rang out , and the gun aimed at Michael’s head flew from Rickett’s hand, spinning into the spittoon near the card table.
Rickett turns looking to Brennigan, but finds the bartender looking over at Cort. Cort is still seated, but his gun pointed in Rickett’s direction.

“Who the ---“

Cort cocks his gun , as Louisa comes in the with Doctor Weatherton. The Doctor takes one look at the boy, shakes his head, and starts to head toward Tom, but Rickett keeps other his gun on Michael.

“This ain’t your business stranger, now I’ll let you walk out and you just let me finish my business here.”

Michael looking at both men, “Please my brother.” Tom is gasping for air as blood both slips from his throat and slides into is lungs. Brennigan is going for his own gun as the Dr. is waiting.

Rickett cocks his gun at Michael, “You gonna have both these boys on your conscious , stranger. You want that?”

Cort fires, hits Rickett in the forehead, and kills him.

Rickett falls to his right side, dead. Michael and the Dr. run over to Tom. Brennigan is on his feet, looking at Cort. Louisa is hovering in the doorway of the kitchen, taking it all in. Death is something she’s seen before.

Cort slides his gun back into his holster, eyes on the old men at the cart table. One of them with a heard down to his collar, gives Cort a nod and turns back to his cards.

A glass clinks next to his left arm. Cort sees Brennigan placing his whiskey next to his water. Brennigan flashes him a wink as his attention goes back to the bodies on his floor.

Louisa from the doorway says, “Sheriff’s rode out this morning, some trouble at Keller ranch. “

Brennigan has picked up the boy and is going to bring him to the Dr’s office for now. Tom and the Doctor have Michael.

Brennigan grumbles, “The dead aren’t walking away. They’ll be waiting for him. Watch the bar Louisa.”

Louisa nods, her eyes drifting over to Cort, Brennigan as he’s leaving adds, “Set him up with a tab for now.”

Few minutes later, the four card players get up, and the drag out Rickett’s body by the feet. His head smacks as it goes down the steps.

Louisa and Cort are alone. Cort is his 2nd water. Louisa leaning on her right arm, she’s just off of Cort’s left shoulder.

“Why’d you get involved? It wasn’t your business.” Louisa is making a coin dance on her her left knuckles. It’s a confederate coin of Cort’s. He’d left his pouch on the table by his drinks.

“ 'Cos that man was a liar.” Cort remarked. His right hand flips another coin toward Louisa’s left hand where she makes two coins walk along her knuckles.

Louisa raises her eyebrows, wanting more information.

Cort looks up a Louisa, who is caught by his green eyes for a moment. They are hard as an emerald , chiseled from war and death.

“He talked too much. Like a magician, he keeps you listening, not watching his hands.”

Louisa gasps as Cort has snatched the two coins off her dancing knuckles. They sit now in his right palm.

“He was pulling the trigger, long before that Tom guy said no.”

Louisa slides the whiskey bottle over, “Want another?”

The end

2009-04-08T17:40:00.001-07:00

First early write up of a possible old west story for a character named Cort L. Anderson. Happy with it so far, after some polish, hope to put it up here next week.

Snarky - In the Beginning

2009-04-08T10:17:00.001-07:00

Here is a copy of the original write up that would become Snarky.

Snarky

Busted AC unit. Sweat soaked through my one good shirt. Keeps my back from sticking to the chair. Getting it fixed will depend on two things: if my money is still good here and if they'll deal with humans. I'm guessing the answer will be "no" to the later.

I’ve been on Rex 9 for the past three years, or is thirteen, some days I can't tell. I came here chasing a lead B my own sister. She left ghosts here, ghosts that came calling back home. They had guns and they killed her child, her husband. I was off world, that world being Earth's Moon, now dubbed Luna for colonization purposes. I guess saying you lived on the Moon, made it sound more like a hunk of rock than a home.

Rex 9 is a hunk of rock, past Pluto and before Andromeda. I never paid much attention to star charts, mostly just what liner went where and how much money I had to loose. Back on Luna, my badge meant something B to some people. Here on Rex 9 I could pawn it, might buy me food for a week. On this planet being a private eye doesn't mean squat, after all they have Trackers here. Five man teams of the native race, reptillian in appearance they go by the name Ophidian. They hunt down any law breakers with a relish and ruthlessness Luna reserved for serial killers. Different strokes for different folks.

Why am I still here?

Certainly not family. Bridget only left clues, but she forgot to leave me cash.

Friends? If I;m lucky my old partner might write back every six months - each time promising to come by and get me off this rock. Did I mention that was 3 years ago?

Cash? I have enough to buy passage off, but not to where I need to go. Trouble is saving all depends on steady work, and on Rex 9 that depends on who can move beyond their xenophobia and knock on my door.

So right now, I stay as a novelty act. You could say I'm waiting for the big pay off, and then zoom off to the stars.

Sweat dribbles onto the paper.

Oh hell, I got to get this AC fixed.

In the Beginning

2009-04-08T10:09:00.000-07:00

So, where did the Tao of Snarky come from ? Well, to begin, the gentleman who became the Editor of Comics Obscura, Mr. Jay Jacot was a coworker of mine. We started talking shop one day on the job and we learned one of us could draw and one of us could write. A few months later, he came to me stating that himself and a few other artists from LCC (Lansing Community College) were going to throw their hats in the ring and put out a comic.
Having previously only written short stories and novelettes, I hadn't done any script writing in the styles used in the comic industry. I was , however, a reader and collector of comics , therefore I was familiar with the medium in that respect. So, I said I'd be happy to try and help.
Jay came to me with a couple drawings of a long nosed cop, just some single shots and he said something to the effect , that this character was in his head, and he wondered if I could come up with something. So, I took the images home and for a couple days, I let them stare at me. Finally, in July of 2006 I think , I was sitting at my keyboard and a single page write up emerged that would become J.W. Snarky.

Intro

2009-03-31T23:29:00.000-07:00

Inspired by a comment from my wife and the existing blog of my partner in crime Jay Jacot, I'm going to be posting the occasional script from the Tao of Snarky comics and use the blog as a venue to share ideas that are being developed for other stories.
It may take a little time for me to get this blog organized the way I desire, but I hope to provide an enjoying stop along your journey.

visit Jay's blog at J2comics.blogspot.com