Here is the cover to the last in the Aeolus series:
The cover is very, very minimalist - at least for me; the cover on #1 was a doozy, but that's all the montage I had patience for. To try it for the next two covers would feel like unnecessary repetition.
Just in case you didn't see them, here are the other two covers:
The cover is very, very minimalist - at least for me; the cover on #1 was a doozy, but that's all the montage I had patience for. To try it for the next two covers would feel like unnecessary repetition.
Just in case you didn't see them, here are the other two covers:
Aeolus #2
Speaking of covers, I think you'll know you're at the top of your game when you can get somebody famous to do a cover for you. Hopefully I can get to that point someday...ahh, dreams.
Anywho, I'm glad to be wrapping up Aeolus. Sure, I had fun doing it - and got a lot of sharp images out of it - but then that first series is always a trepidatious thrust into the unknown; you hold back, because you're not all that sure where you're going.
Aeolus was definitely a learning experience. My main problem was fundamental: I was unwilling to take the time to script everything before I started the roughs. I figured, "what the hell, I can fill in the blanks as I go along". That worked for the first comic, but then the storylines started tangling up; by the time I reached the 3rd episode, I was frustrated with the story and completely unsure how to wrap it all up. The last issue ended up being twice as long as the other two. Now, I like spontaneity as much as any other red-blooded American comic book artist, but not when it gets in the way of my enjoyment of the creative process; in this case, I got so frustrated that I didn't work on it for six months. Now that I'm finally back to it (after having hammered the story to death in order to get everything in line), I'm actually enjoying working on this issue even more than the other two.
That, and I now have a Wacom tablet. Everything is better with a Wacom tablet. Trust me.
So what did I learn from the Aeolus story debacle? The answer is: script, script, script. As in, the verb. Scripting will save you an acre of migraines. For my next project, The Human Cannonball, I just sat down and started pouring out scripts: sixteen-page, stapled packets of scrap paper, with the art done in ballpoint pen. So far, I have three issues scripted, and more on the way. This way, I can be as sketchy or as detailed as I want, and I don't have to worry about panels, placement, anything. The only thing that matters at this point is hammering out the visuals.
After the scripting, the layouts: I've come to the realization that my panel layouts are, if anything, uninspired. Every single panel has a horizontal format, divided like windowpanes by standardized gutters. In terms of speed and efficiency, it can't be beat - you just line up the images, stack 'em on top of each other, and boom, you're done. Aesthetically, though, they don't have much going for them. I'll have to do some research, and get some help from my co-conspirator, the inimitable Joe Haines. And maybe a couple of other people.
Rick Out.
Anywho, I'm glad to be wrapping up Aeolus. Sure, I had fun doing it - and got a lot of sharp images out of it - but then that first series is always a trepidatious thrust into the unknown; you hold back, because you're not all that sure where you're going.
Aeolus was definitely a learning experience. My main problem was fundamental: I was unwilling to take the time to script everything before I started the roughs. I figured, "what the hell, I can fill in the blanks as I go along". That worked for the first comic, but then the storylines started tangling up; by the time I reached the 3rd episode, I was frustrated with the story and completely unsure how to wrap it all up. The last issue ended up being twice as long as the other two. Now, I like spontaneity as much as any other red-blooded American comic book artist, but not when it gets in the way of my enjoyment of the creative process; in this case, I got so frustrated that I didn't work on it for six months. Now that I'm finally back to it (after having hammered the story to death in order to get everything in line), I'm actually enjoying working on this issue even more than the other two.
That, and I now have a Wacom tablet. Everything is better with a Wacom tablet. Trust me.
So what did I learn from the Aeolus story debacle? The answer is: script, script, script. As in, the verb. Scripting will save you an acre of migraines. For my next project, The Human Cannonball, I just sat down and started pouring out scripts: sixteen-page, stapled packets of scrap paper, with the art done in ballpoint pen. So far, I have three issues scripted, and more on the way. This way, I can be as sketchy or as detailed as I want, and I don't have to worry about panels, placement, anything. The only thing that matters at this point is hammering out the visuals.
After the scripting, the layouts: I've come to the realization that my panel layouts are, if anything, uninspired. Every single panel has a horizontal format, divided like windowpanes by standardized gutters. In terms of speed and efficiency, it can't be beat - you just line up the images, stack 'em on top of each other, and boom, you're done. Aesthetically, though, they don't have much going for them. I'll have to do some research, and get some help from my co-conspirator, the inimitable Joe Haines. And maybe a couple of other people.
Rick Out.
Comments