In retrospect, I’m beginning to think my whole life has been a series on consequences of my allowing others to define me. I admit the fault is my own. If I were as strong as I have hoped I would be, I would never have allowed all the grief thrown my way.
I started taking notes on a long forgotten project I promised myself I would work on. I’m using these notes to transform them into a graphic novel script. I hope that JD doesn’t mind the sudden shift in genre. I texted him on Friday during the birthday celebration to ask if he’d still be interested. Apparently the guy’s going in for surgery. Pesky gall bladders. Seems like everyone has theirs failing them.
Once he’s back on his feet, I hope to at least have some character stats to help him create what they should look like. What sort of clothes they wear, etc. I also want to contact Donovan about something on the side, but for now I think JD is the best person to have for this project. And I’m not just saying that, I truly mean it. Donovan’s a great artist, but he deserves something that is more in tuned to his craft – if you’re reading this, I don’t know how you’re taking all of it, but trust me, it’s a compliment.
I think I’ll tell “Squares” in twelve chapters, each focusing on a single central character so that the plot of the entire book doesn’t get fucked. To be honest, I was going to call the project “The Damaged Fuckers,” but it really has nothing to do with the nature of the project. Because “Squares” was the name of the original project, I thought I should at least keep it for this part. I’ll think of a title later. Maybe, hopefully, come up with one while working with JD.
With Spring Break over and Jyg back at work, I’m hoping to get more things done with our project. I need to keep active. If I start resting, chances are I’ll just allow myself to die.
Chapin City Blues 