Chapter Five: Pages 19 -22

"Hey TC, how's the comic book going?"

Well, all week I thought I'd already posted an update here, but it turns out that was actually last week. That's the state of my mind and the way time has been passing for me recently.

Anyway, last time, as they galloped from Archipoli to Barathron, Alexandra and her father were forced to stop at a countryside farm on account of their exhausted horse. They met a patient local who revealed that if our heroes wanted to get to Barathron, Alexandra's father had not, in fact, chosen the correct fork in the road. Alexandra's father did not apologize for not listening to his daughter, who had suggested the correct path. So they set off again, hoping not to have been delayed too greatly.

This week, we find out what happens after Ataraxes falters yet again…

- - - - - -

This short instalment includes two of my favourite beats: the return of dad's awful sense of humour, and the notes about owl sounds.

No one ever seems to need to pee in stories. Except Bluey. That's the only show, off the top of my head, that includes "bathroom breaks" as plot elements. When the idea presented itself for this sequence, I must admit I leapt at it (and now that I'm writing this, I'm wondering if I thought of it because we watch so much Bluey). Not like it was a big priority of mine to get some toilet business into the book, but when he showed up at the door I couldn't help but invite him in.

I like dad's joking because it continues the idea that he's trying to keep his poor daughter distracted. It also doesn't come out of the blue because we established in Chapter Two that he makes horrible jokes. And hopefully it pays off later in the chapter, in an emotional way.

Sometimes we have barn owls in our area. Or maybe barred owls. Both, actually. And they do, in fact, make the most ghastly cries. A nearby friend said he was awoken in the middle of the night by a sound he described as "children being murdered." He ran to his own children's bedrooms in a panic, but it turned out there was just a horrible owl in the tree outside. I tried to find different ways for Alexandra to describe the sound in her narration, because whatever you think of the tone of this comic, the text "children being murdered" is not compatible.

Originally, I wanted to frame this owl-sounds tangent like Alexandra remembering a weird detail because "these are the kinds of little things that you remember when you think back on important events, say, when you are composing a speech for a funeral." I liked it because it's a true sentiment I believe: when we recall meaningful events in our lives — like a death — sometimes there are dumb little asides that come along for the ride. I also liked it because it's stark foreshadowing. But I cut it down because it all felt like too much. Too many layers, too much noise. I figured that could all go unsaid, and the scene would still have the "fuzz" and texture that I liked, and it would still be menacing, just by mentioning the fact about owl sounds. And again, the tone in this chapter is challenging to balance, so keeping it simpler — even if just by a little — is probably smart.

- - - - -

I joked on ol' Bluesky that, "When I drew this (below), I knew "this is going to take a long time to colour," but I don't think I fully knew, knew, you know?"

Friends, these crowd scenes are a real chore, I tell you. Previously, I suggested the key to getting through laborious scenes like this was to remember, "the visual density and all the detail is important to the story, the visual texture, and the overall character of the comic."

That mantra has become more worn than the nose of a bronze dog statue in a popular public square.

The panel below took at least an hour to get from flatting to where it is as pictured.

On the plus side, I do enjoy re-meeting random background characters, like the Kenny Loggins-looking legend on the far left side.

This is all to say, this is why it feels like time has been turned inside-out for me. The pages have been taking longer than I would like, which means I've started putting in more evening hours. I like to establish a regular rhythm of getting pages done, and these crowd scenes are really throwing me off. At the start of the chapter, I was getting a whole page done from start to finish between preschool dropoff and pickup. Not anymore!

My goal right now is to finish colouring this chapter by the end of June, when Kiddo will finish preschool for summer break. I think I can to it, but it will be close. Unfortunately, Past Me has unwisely not taken my goals into consideration, and he's drawn a trillion townsfolk all over these pages.

I'm secretly glad, though. If I tried to do the crowds any other way, I'd feel like I was cheating. The grumbling is all for show. When you join the Secret Society of Comics Professionals, you sign a document saying you will always complain about crowd scenes, so thank you for bearing witness to my due diligence. If The Consortium contacts you — keep an eye out for Lynn Johnston brandishing a cricket bat — to find out if I'm holding up my end of the contract, you can truthfully say I have.

- - - - -

In the next post, we'll find out what that horrible noise was that Alexandra heard, and I'll show you yet another dumb mistake I made during inking that I had to revise out this morning.

Until then,
I remain,
Lynn Johnston brandishing a cricket bat,

TC