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This is a clip from the forthcoming April 2 Sunday. Spot suits up for some weather. But taken out of context, if you didn't know a frog was tucked inside the scarf, you might suppose I'd drawn something scandalous. I certainly did last night around one in the morning when I was finishing the drawing. Maybe the strip should carry a disclaimer for those viewing it late at night.
I've been waiting for today to arrive with the same grim fascination I'd feel if I were slipping off a snow-covered roof, gripping my shovel as if it were a railing.
Today's strip seemed like a good idea at the time. But once it was on the roof -- in the syndicate pipeline and beyond further tweaking -- I wondered if it made sense.
At least I had the satisfaction of drawing a pillow-shaped frog. That should cushion my fall.
I just read this at E&P, courtesy of the Daily Cartoonist:
NEW YORK A dozen Universal Press Syndicate
cartoonists will each do the "Big Top" comic for a day during the weeks
of March 6 and March 13. They're pinch-hitting for "Big Top" creator
Rob Harrell, who has been undergoing treatment for cancer behind his
right eye.
The writing and style of Big Top are perfectly matched. From poodle to clown, it's a comic ideal. I'll be interested to see how twelve different pens continue his line. I'm thinking it might resemble a family tree, with diverging branches.
Best wishes to Rob Harrell for a quick recovery.
Mike Lynch has been contributing insight and provocation at other blogs for the last fifty years -- or the textual equivalent (he's a prolific commentator.) Now he has one of his own.
I get a nostalgic, if bittersweet feeling, when I look into the day of a freelance magazine cartoonist. It's easier than ditch-digging, but at least the digger has the satisfaction of being paid when the ditch is finished. For a cartoonist, digging the ditch is only the beginning. The next step is finding someone who wants that ditch.
His current blog post offers a quiz. Here's my guess:
First For Women
Wall St. Journal
Reader's Digest
My reasoning: RD likes wordless or brief captions, the Journal (like the New Yorker) has a fondness for buzzwords, and First For Women routinely runs dieting material.
If you win, Mike explains that you won't earn a prize, since you played the game on spec. But for a few moments, you'll know what it's like to be a magazine cartoonist, without the risk.
That's a prize. (via Mark Anderson)
One of the downsides to drawing small characters is that visual punchlines can lose their punch. This one ran last year. If you saw it in your newspaper, the joke was likely clear. If you saw it online, there was a good chance that the antialiased shrinkage masked the joke.
Last week was my first all-mac production of dailies and a sunday. I'm still reluctant to shove the pc all the way off the desk, so it's pushed into a corner, minus the dunce cap, waiting to perform the one or two tricks the mac can't perform.
Mary's away for the weekend, which -- in theory -- means I'll get a lot done. It's hard to work on the strip when I know I have agreeable company.
Right now I'm working on a new website, thanks to the agreeable company of this guy, a cartoonist/sculptor/photographer/web designer. My old Spot site is poorly assembled (proof that I assembled it.) It's not awkward to navigate. But I didn't set up a master page/navigation bar/doohickey, which means that every change to the site that demands a new link further demands that I change a link on every page, since every page links to every other page, and the links tangle my thinking. It's the backwards way to do it, which is why it came naturally to me. Greg is helping to unkink the links.
The cover to the book is off to the printers. The stuff between the covers is nearly completed, awaiting a final proof.
I just saw Millions, a movie recommended at kottke.org. I loved it, Mary thought it was so-so. I'm susceptible to stories that are told with one eye open and the other shut tight, simultaneously spotting the world outside and the fantasy within. I'm not a religious person, but this movie offers a warm and whimsical view of saints that I found agreeable company (especially the bit with Saint Peter, who modestly brags that he takes care of the door up there, with the quiet pride of an exclusive club's doorman.)
Frogs are cold-blooded. That means they can't swallow snowflakes without first making sure they melt on their tongue. Otherwise the snowflakes pack into the stomach and form a ball. This isn't widely known, and even frogs occasionally forget.
Exciting moment. I now have the photoshop on my imac configured for coloring my art. Yee-ha.
The book chugs along. You've seen this before, but now it's closer to walking into a bookstore, thanks to its spine.
