Greetings, small creature.
It seems like you have sauntered across this bottomless well. Loose tongues say a stray soul lives here. Singing songs and talking nonsense, and sometimes drawing pictures too. You might as well listen to it.
The madani phenomenon.
I wrote a second book!
Antheads.
In the bloodstained desert of this world’s most neglected country, a human-sized anthill stands. The remaining citizens of a former nomadic tribe spend each breath of their waking hours in benefit of an authority they do not know. Just like the insects —which have their own role in this convicted society, as well—, their lives price about nothing. Serving, breeding, and crushing beneath the soles of inattentive walkers; born to die. But humans, unlike ants, possess the unlucky trait of rational thinking. How can a herd of fully developed people live in such a simplified matrix, when their brains are designed to bear the havoc of mankind?
A nineteen-year-old boy opens his eyes to this distorted reality, one morning. Actually, the first and only morning of his life. His neurons dispersed, he stumbles around the strange place that is his home, in search of answers for inexistent questions. Something is not quite right about the promises of labor-based recovery they have all been given. Long shifts of manual work certainly don’t seem like the best cure for their heads — even less so, those bizarre sessions of psychological games he is scheduled for. And this purple-eyed youngling he has for a roommate is giving off the stink of hidden secrets.
Every mystery shall have its solution, and every thread must catch up to a pattern eventually. Unless, of course, you only have twenty-four hours of a brain to sew it.
Did you know you can be artistically productive despite having an entire platoon of relatives drilling your eardrums on how you need to earn your life by traditional means? It only takes a bit of a pighead and a rather good load of masochism. Today is my first book's first birthday, and it feels just as if my babies were turning one, all at the same time... It's strange. About two months have already passed since publishers started reading the drafts. I'm sort of frustrated. Anyways, there are a couple pictures and a few jokes that won't be included in the final version in case it comes out. Why not add them here?
»These are my sweet children in order of appearance. I can't say their names, 'cause that would wreck about twenty pages of the thing, but if you just read the excerpt that Amazon lets you read for free, you will recognize some of them.
»This is some unpublished pictures that I was planning on including as illustrations in the book... but it's hard enough as it is, to get any other soul to read three hundred and thirty-eight pages. I drew them while I was writing the original version —which is way more radical than what's hopefully coming out—, so they're rather dear to me. It's been a year since I commanded whatever pencil it was to produce these images, and I admit my tracework has changed a surprising lot since then. However, I thought it would be a sin to keep them stored forever in a folder, if there's still some pictures left in it that I will not shed light to unless my babies make a big hit. I titled them with direct quotes from the scene they represent.A scraggly boy with disproportionately wide eyes stared at him through his messy, silver-white bangs. |
His first impulse was to flee, but he was pitifully petrified in situ, his eyes fixed on the fabric covering the left shoulder of who was now his attacker. Hers, dark and merciless, seemed to look right through the dimensions of his physical facet, rummaging through the abstract mess of his ideas. |
Comicbooks.
Are thou bored, mine child? Are thou searching for relief from political et/or metaphysical inconformity? Thou shalt not fret, for Mutter Sagpi is laboring day and night in foul sweat et tears, to bring thee the comfort of ideologischly overcharged picture books.
Yeah, so I just can't stand being unproductive. I decided I'm gonna upload sample pages of my comics-to-be while I'm still making them. Not like a big crowd's gonna see them, but hey.
1. Yet untitled space comicbook.
Yes, yes, I know it's ugly to post something and say it's "yet untitled". But, y'know, I'm trash at titles. I didn't come up with Antheads until I was halfway through the draft, and I refuse to give this other baby some garbage makeshift name while I'm waiting for my remaining braincell to pop up something.
I can say, though, that I've given a lot of thought to this immortality subject, and it's hella twisted. It's the first time ever I've scripted a comicbook, and it's a good twelve pages in my tiny-ass handwriting. And when I say tiny-ass, I don't mean just some likkle cursive thing with big gaps between lines. No. I mean six letters per notebook square. So yes, it's going to be a big comic. This is my first contact with digital drawing, too. I must say I goddamn hate it, but I'm trying my best.
» If you want, you can look at the drafts I drew a year ago. Click on this dot: ●
» For a first taste, I will put up the first ten pages of the comic. I'm already working on the seventeenth, but I wanna have a little vantage so I'm never in too much of a hurry.
» I wanted to wait 'til i finished ten more pages to upload, but then I realised no one's gonna read 'em anyway, so here is up to page eighteen.
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» Your usual ten-page try. Taste and enjoy, because this one goes fast.
» Aaaaand... chapter one is through! Yeah, it didn't go fast at all, but I didn't want to do choppy page-to-page updates 'cause it's not like there's somebody expecting for them anyway. Twenty-four juicy pages for ya, my dear. But hold your socks up. The good stuff, I'd say, kicks off in chapter two.
» It do kick off in chapter two. Here thou have thy tasty ten-page. Thirty-four already, and I'm not even halfway through this.
» Chapter two up! And isn't it just starting to get tassty, my dear boy. Hold on to your suspenders, though, 'cause fifty pages is just half of it. The roller coaster of my snafu rebels has reached its peakpoint — and now it goes down...
» Yes, boys... the kids are starting to frown, and the partitures are starting to crrrrumble... Ten pages of your chapter three right up to your door.
» Chapter three, more than a year after the beginning of this... interesting ride. It took me a while (a big while indeed) longer to finish this one, since I am unsurprisingly working on several other projects at the same time, and surprisingly paying some attention in class (what?!). In this issue, Mandy and her folk are starting to figure out that their views on society and the people around them might be slightly slanted by the influence of a certain someone in their lives. Someone whose pretty face will be stamped in the cover of the next (and last) tome.
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