Artistic Bender + Much Bitching
She opened up the shutter with a bottle of gin
And said "Boy, boy lower your voice
My dog can't sleep with all this noise!
You see this beast sitting at my feet -
My daddy left him to keep a watch on me..."
It's 2.30am. I'm waiting for an undoubtably drunk and possibly singing/bruised/wasted real-fictional-detective to return. Sleeping seems a little pointless since he'll wake me up anyway.
In the mean time I'm doing art.
I've inked all my Beardsley pictures.
Now I get to stab them in photoshop for hours on end, fixing mistakes, mirroring patterns, resizing or turning an element or two I'd drawn wrong and only realized after inking (naturally!). Not only is it extremely dull, but also whilst attempting to correct things my neurons despair and decide they have no artistic ability and couldn't draw a horse's tail even if paid. *sigh* Why oh why do my neurons do this sort of shit?
=====
Dear Person Wot I Is Drawing For,
I understand you're very interested in seeing the designs as soon as possible so you can wibble about whether you feel they suit or not. And I know I didn't reply to your email asking for what I'd done so far. That's because I was drawing and didn't feel it was productive taking time out to scan, poke, and send my incomplete scribbles.
No, my brief didn't contain the ruins of the 20th C as a constant backdrop. I'm assuming because if Beardsley was asked to draw the ruins of any civilization it would be a bunch of thorns, a naked satyr, and a few geometric shapes swamped in peacock-scales.
However, since I doubt I'm the only artist working on this book, I'm pretty sure someone else got told to draw tower-blocks covered in ivy or whatever.
Did I have a proper point? Well, yeah, kinda.
So far, your drawings (research, concept, sketch and inking) have eaten nearly a month of my life. Not a floofy month, but a very proper 9-5, mon-fri sort of month. I expect I'll add a week to that at least with editing. I have no idea what I'm being paid but I am (alas) pretty fucking sure it's gonna be a lot less than minimum wage.
Bearing in mind I'm working for tuppence, bearing in mind the brief was given by the editor who has a overview/look/style set out and ultimately (sorry to add), bearing in mind you're just the writer.... SUSH!
I don't have time to send you drafts.
If you have issues with my ability, or the brief, or are chewing your nails over something, talk to the editor. And yes, I would be more than happy to send you drafts so you can fret and suggest changes - but only if you pay me at least minimum wage.
I don't mean to be pokey. This project has caused me to swear a lot, but at the same time it's been a lot of fun. I'm very happy to be doing it, and I'm very happy to be working for an editor who does the best by both writers and artists that the company possibly can.
Just.... ergh.... today was not a good time to poke the crazy artist with a stick, however gently. In fact, unless you're totally clued in as to the brief and the pay check your editor is handing out, might I suggest you don't poke the artists at all?
Yeees, I'm being bitchy. It's been a very long day.
Photoshop, insanity and kisses,
Corvid.
x
=====
I owe news, parcels, stories, emails, drinks and other stuff besides to pretty much everyone I know. I am bloody awful - I know, I'm sorry, really I am. I will catch up when all this Beardsley stuff is done and dusted.
Or I guess I might implode.
One or the other.
So I tapped on her window and she took me in
"It's about time I started living in sin..."
I looked at her face and I saw her grin,
She said "Boy, you don't know the trouble you're in!
You freed me from that hideous hound -
But you'll find it's harder to put him down..."
And said "Boy, boy lower your voice
My dog can't sleep with all this noise!
You see this beast sitting at my feet -
My daddy left him to keep a watch on me..."
It's 2.30am. I'm waiting for an undoubtably drunk and possibly singing/bruised/wasted real-fictional-detective to return. Sleeping seems a little pointless since he'll wake me up anyway.
In the mean time I'm doing art.
I've inked all my Beardsley pictures.
Now I get to stab them in photoshop for hours on end, fixing mistakes, mirroring patterns, resizing or turning an element or two I'd drawn wrong and only realized after inking (naturally!). Not only is it extremely dull, but also whilst attempting to correct things my neurons despair and decide they have no artistic ability and couldn't draw a horse's tail even if paid. *sigh* Why oh why do my neurons do this sort of shit?
=====
Dear Person Wot I Is Drawing For,
I understand you're very interested in seeing the designs as soon as possible so you can wibble about whether you feel they suit or not. And I know I didn't reply to your email asking for what I'd done so far. That's because I was drawing and didn't feel it was productive taking time out to scan, poke, and send my incomplete scribbles.
No, my brief didn't contain the ruins of the 20th C as a constant backdrop. I'm assuming because if Beardsley was asked to draw the ruins of any civilization it would be a bunch of thorns, a naked satyr, and a few geometric shapes swamped in peacock-scales.
However, since I doubt I'm the only artist working on this book, I'm pretty sure someone else got told to draw tower-blocks covered in ivy or whatever.
Did I have a proper point? Well, yeah, kinda.
So far, your drawings (research, concept, sketch and inking) have eaten nearly a month of my life. Not a floofy month, but a very proper 9-5, mon-fri sort of month. I expect I'll add a week to that at least with editing. I have no idea what I'm being paid but I am (alas) pretty fucking sure it's gonna be a lot less than minimum wage.
Bearing in mind I'm working for tuppence, bearing in mind the brief was given by the editor who has a overview/look/style set out and ultimately (sorry to add), bearing in mind you're just the writer.... SUSH!
I don't have time to send you drafts.
If you have issues with my ability, or the brief, or are chewing your nails over something, talk to the editor. And yes, I would be more than happy to send you drafts so you can fret and suggest changes - but only if you pay me at least minimum wage.
I don't mean to be pokey. This project has caused me to swear a lot, but at the same time it's been a lot of fun. I'm very happy to be doing it, and I'm very happy to be working for an editor who does the best by both writers and artists that the company possibly can.
Just.... ergh.... today was not a good time to poke the crazy artist with a stick, however gently. In fact, unless you're totally clued in as to the brief and the pay check your editor is handing out, might I suggest you don't poke the artists at all?
Yeees, I'm being bitchy. It's been a very long day.
Photoshop, insanity and kisses,
Corvid.
x
=====
I owe news, parcels, stories, emails, drinks and other stuff besides to pretty much everyone I know. I am bloody awful - I know, I'm sorry, really I am. I will catch up when all this Beardsley stuff is done and dusted.
Or I guess I might implode.
One or the other.
So I tapped on her window and she took me in
"It's about time I started living in sin..."
I looked at her face and I saw her grin,
She said "Boy, you don't know the trouble you're in!
You freed me from that hideous hound -
But you'll find it's harder to put him down..."