Learning To Fly

At best it was a horrid day.

Not because of bad things that happened, no there wasn’t. But I am quite sure elsewhere, worse things did. The day was gloomy from the dark clouds and the threat of heavy rainfall was evident. But that was just it, just a threat. All day long it was sweaty and hot. The perspiration that dried at the base of my neck has become gritty salt when I noticed.

But I was in a good mood. Rarely do I get sad or weary.

There is still that novelty of learning new things. And I am learning a lot. When I woke up from a very long night of studying favorite authors’ works, my own inking progress and even more research, my process has turned to seeing and reading and listening.

I’ve had a signed copy of Vic Poblete’s Marco Piolo and amidst the vast stories and novels the man has published, mostly vague recollections of stories read from my youth, this particular komiks is the one that has taught me more than an interview with a person might turn out. I have met Vic Poblete and the man is what he is – feisty, intelligent, quick to wit and what we call the personification of the word masculine – and yet, if you’ll get the chance to shoot the bull with the man, he’s a simple and as real as any father or uncle can be. Which I wouldn’t mind considfering I grew up without a father. And Marco Piolo is so precise in it’s words and pacing that all I need to do was read and look and read again, catching how the man put descriptions and dialog. The man’s mastery of the vernacular is enviable. After reading F Sionil Jose’s The Feet of Juan Bacnang, which is another author I admire, and his prose is very much a sort of transcendental reading, but Poblete’s wit and grasp of the NOW is plain to see, you can feel the abruptness of events happening in the story. There is another author I need to study, another friend, but with her work I need to get my feminine mojo on, because I am, admittedly, not really into love stories. But Ms. Rose Tan has been writing for two decades now, and her vernacular prowess has grown into staggering proportions that she only needs to quip a part of her writing on social media and her fans are swooning! I may have to read Arik, but not right now. I’ll do it after I let her read my manuscript, after all, the best critic will be a friend who tells you what stinks.

Oh, you may have guessed by now that I am writing. Mostly fiction of the sci-fi and fantasy orientations. And have applied what I have done with my previous work, approach it as a newbie, learn as much as possible about it, and do it. If roadblocks appear, do research and solve the damned thing that is getting in my way. And reading up on it is teaches me more than attending writing classes and seminars. Those books I have read and lost long ago, Perez, Bautista, Bombeck among the few, and those I still have with me are actually teachers for my story telling.

I’ve been listening to an audiobook by Stephen King, On Writing, and the writer who has given me Pennywise and Roland and the Tommyknockers is teaching me more than just taking me to places in New England and of people I will never meet but totally exist in that hemisphere. He’s talking about what I’m learning from Poblete and Tan, from the booksale find of three Ruth rendell Wexford novels I am reading in between drawing and writing, from the est of my measly collection of thriftshop hardbounds and paperbacks. Oh, I would still like to write like Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, or HP Lovecraft, but these authors I have with me now – King, Poblete, Tan – they are what’s closer to me, in different ways possible.

Soon as I prepped for the days drawing, setting up my media player with my headphones and the day’s selection of music, probably Heavy Metal or Jazz, depends on how noisy it is outside my door, I dive deep into learning. Even with my drawing I have seen my own progression. There is a difference between wanting to and doing it – the confidence of doing it is the key. And I have become confident in what I am doing.

Maybe because I have grown.

Or maybe I have accumulated all sorts of experiences and it is time for me to tell stories, to describe each experience within the walls of my fantasy. All the love, the hurt, the exhilirations and frustrations, misgivings, apprehensions, disappointments, immorality and honesty, exaltations and confusion. I’ve even made it a point to illustrate what I believe happened rather than what was taught me in since childhood.

It’s what good about writing and creating, I can shut the worl out and be with myself and the stories. Even with the constant braying of the twin kids below my room, or the incessant cha-cha music from the other side of the street, I could be with my own, in a world where I am learning as I move along.

But when the couple next door happens to make love, all bets are off. The house moves like a jellyfish and that is the only distraction I cannot possibly ignore, so I stop, giving them enough time to finish and I start again.

And by the time I have my fill of learning, writing, drawing, it’ll be past 3am, which is what I will be doing affer I have written down this affirmation of sorts.

Heavens, please make it rain, it’ll make the night cooler and much more lucrative for creativity . . .

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Taking The Leap of Faith

CaptureWhen I decided to have a go at it and learn everything I can with the business of publishing my own coloring book for grown up.

I never knew I could be this scared in my entire life.

And there are very few instances that I could call myself batshit scared out of my wits:

Marriage.

Fatherhood.

and now:

Startup.

The other day I just had a disturbing sort of discussion with some friends, well one is a good friend and a couple I just knew from my previous job. And I was mystified that they have reacted as if I was merely being a brat when I commented that there was no movement on their part while I was illustrating my ass off.

Oh, the project was the adult coloring book. We were supposed to be all four people as business partners, two of us would be illustrating.

So I was expecting the others would be busy building up the costing nad marketing plan while two of us were doing the drawings.

I assumed wrong. Maybe because it’s my own fault that we never really discussed the roles each of us need to fill. And they, at least two reacted as if I was picking a fight. Illustrating is what I feel passionately about, and putting out something with good quality and lasting impression is what I feel passionately too. So my strong queries led me to think I had to do things on my own.

Well not entirely alone, I mean I know nothing of the business side of publishing so I still need Marie‘s input with this, and the costing and business plan, I sought out another dear friend – Sally , we’ve known each other for several years now – and get my brain working in a businessman’s train of thought.

So taking the reigns, I may have stepped on people’s toes. But that is understandable. Putting out a book, even a coloring book, is not just some whimsical “let’s make our own adult coloring book!” gang outing. It needs to start with the right kind of attitude and the strong sense of realistic purpose, not some trendy hashtag.

So I dug up information. And sent out inquiries to National Bookstore that led to to Anvil Publishing and so I went and printed a mockup  of the coloring book took the sample to Pioneer street in Mandaluyong. Needless to say I was exhilirated and downraight frightened of the thought of going all indie. Along with these inquiries, I also sent out emails to several bookstores, but NBS is the responded positively.

Why am I terrorized by this prospect?

A lot is riding on this venture. A couple of months ago I started putting out my own comics creations via my Wix site/portfolio and just made them available to everyone who’s smart enought to read stuff on the web. And the other stories that I have been talking about in my tweets, Facebook and Blogger I have just gone out and done.

It’s a leap of faith.

I’ve taken it.

And the feeling is all sorts of wonder, dread and…

Elation.

Because I’m tired of giving away my artwork. I’m tired of people like Kit who acts as if he’s your savior and champion while stompiong on your artistry by treating as a mediocre graphic artist, dragghing you into all sorts of cons and events without really knowing if you ecer get something out of it. Carlo once told me, if you’re good at something, don’t give it for free, or something in that vein.

So my decision is put out something worthy of selling and virtually saying-

“I offer you this. You want it, give me your money”

There it is.