the couscous collective thoughts

My esteemed better half Pancha Diaz addressed the writerly portion of Couscous Collective (Garrity, Thompson and myself.) at one of our get togethers a few weeks ago.

“Listen, you guys need to put some content on the Couscous blog. I didn’t set it up for my health so write some articles or something.”

Now Diaz is pretty much the only reason I show up to conventions shod and wearing a bra. She lays out our books, she does the website, she secures our marketing materials. You don’t alienate the one person who understands page bleeds and holds your hair back when you get trashed at the Stumptown after party. So when she tells me to do something I fucking do it. 

So let me begin what will hopefully be a long series of post with a reccomendation. If you have not read Joanna Estep’s Happy Birthday, Michael Mitchell then you have failed as a human being and should be ruthlessly cast out from society.

Happy birthday, Shawshank Redemption!

Estep is the artist of Tokyopop’s Roadsong and that was good and all but this new one out from Tor is like, crazy good.  And I’m not just saying that shit because we went to high school together. I’m saying it because she is crazy good and also because I want her to contribute to The Legend of Bold Riley and I am perfectly willing to kiss her ass.

Happy Birthday, Michael Mitchell is one of those really great stories because Estep knows that giving away too much would ruin it. You know something is terribly, terribly wrong with these people but not what exactly. Not knowing the full details works to the effect of making the reader anxious then relieved at the end then anxious all over again because you know that these characters are doomed to repeat the same cycle of fear. 

She’s busted out a new inking style for this short story, Dark and errie and oppressive, heavy on the brush work. I also like how the coloring is different during certain scenes. Witness!

Really lends to the moods, y’know? And look at the way she uses floating panels! Those are hard to make look good! Man, I’d like to buy this comic a drink. And not like, a PBR. Something made from top shelf liquor. 

So go read Happy Birthday Michael Mitchell. 

I’m sure you will find this comic is the prettiest girl at the prom. A pretty girl who is mentally unbalanced and nervously fingering a straight razor, granted, but you’ll put that aside for at least one dance with her.

For the record, I was this close to putting Polk’s head on a pike, but Andrew convinced me that the fun ends when small children get beheaded.

http://www.girlamatic.com/comics/mell.php

Meanwhile, in The Chronicles of William Bazillion, is that ever really a “plus side”?

This escalated very quickly.

http://www.girlamatic.com/comics/mell.php

And this week’s William Bazillion is just wrong. As Andrew reminds me, though, it is a Christmas story.

http://www.williambazillion.com

As of today, I have officially figured out the ending of this storyline! Good work, me!

www.girlamatic.com/comics/mell.php

And there’s a new Chronicles of William Bazillion too. Gunther is like a hundred years old or something, go figure.

www.williambazillion.com

Li’l Mell: I love a good Taylor/Tyler confrontation.

http://www.girlamatic.com/comics/mell.php

And William Bazillion: Dove il bagno?

http://www.williambazillion.com

Ah, another Tuesday night well spent.

Li’l Mell: I have total sympathy for Polk on this one.

William Bazillion: They are so totally going to get back to racing for Nazi gold. Eventually.

New Li’l Mell page up. But can they convince Shovelhead?

Also, Andrew’s got a new installment in the Chronicles of William Bazillion. This is one of those installments where you have to step back and marvel at how far the narrative has come since its humble beginning as the simple story of a race for Santa’s Nazi gold.

My apartment was just featured on Chris Mautner’s Comic Book Resources featurette, Shelf Porn.

The secret ironic part is that I am actually moving to a new apartment in two weeks. That’s how I operate: I move into a new apartment (usually in a poor neighborhood), fill it with manga like a Superfund site, and then get out of town before the authorities can crack down on me or parents can wonder where their children are learning terms like “moe.” Soon I’ll have a new identity, and the authorities will be unable to stop “Tason Jhompson” from moving into a new neighborhood, leaving a new stain of manga like the contaminated earth beneath an old gas station.

But… (as they say in “A Christmas Carol”) is this the shadow of things that WILL be, or the things that MAY be?

Yes, it’s Wednesday. In Li’l Mell, the coup continues.

And, also because it’s Wednesday, Andrew has a new installment in The Chronicles of William Bazillion.

Andrew finds the Taylors especially disturbing in this installment. I think their worst moment was talking about hurt/comfort in the previous storyline.

>http://www.girlamatic.com/comics/mell.php

And hey, special awesome Narbonic/Bazillion crossover art, by the Couscous Collective’s own Konstantin P., in today’s Chronicles of William Bazillion!