PARAGON #17: One Hump or Two?

Blimey, it’s been a while since the blog got an update. I’ve had plenty of things bubbling away in the formative stages, but not much out on the proverbial shelves to talk about. I can’t say I’ve got much more out this month – just an eccentric little three-pager in PARAGON #17 – but it’s not like I need an excuse to wax lyrical in a self-indulgent manner, so here’s the gen on Spencer Nero and the Dry Camel.

The first thing to mention is that this tale is taken in large part from American history and folklore – specifically the legend of the Red Ghost of Arizona, a camel with a headless military rider. Remarkably, camels were imported into the US in the 1850s for work in more arid regions – unfortunately, their surly dispositions and general unreliability made them less of an improvement on mules than might have been hoped. The ‘star’ of this particular story is the surliest of ‘em all – but that’s camels for you. They’re like the wasps of the mammal world, in terms of temperament. 

Despite this, the title of the tale hails from a song whose lyrics suggest an uncharacteristic (and, dare I say it, decidedly unwholesome) fondness for our dromedary chums - ‘From a Dry Camel’, by the wonderful early-70s rockers Dust. Spooky, psychedelic, and unutterably desert-y – and to partner it, I also sneaked the title of an equally atmospheric song by contemporaries Mountain into the narration. Bonus points if you can spot it. I am nothing if not shameless in parading my influences.

 

Art (and letters) are by the lovely Jim Cameron. This is the first story of mine Jim has drawn and he’s done a smashing job – although his style is cartoony, the camel is not without a sinister streak, and at times has a dose of Richard Corben-style creepiness about its sneering visage. (Jim also lends his charms to another rhyming Ganesh tale elsewhere in the issue.)

Meanwhile in PARAGON, the pages are dominated once more by a welcome double hit of El Chivo’s art on both Jikan and El Bigote. There’s also a chilling three-page one-off written by Davey Candlish and drawn by Baz Renshaw (new to PARAGON? One to watch - this story might be my favourite bit of the issue) along with a spot of two-fisted trans-temporalism in Bulldog and Panda. A line-up that, unlike the aforementioned camel, really holds water and is nothing to spit at!

“But wait,” you say. “A two-pager last time and a three-pager this time – aren’t you writing any longer PARAGON stories?” I’m glad you asked – and all being well, before the year is out, you might just see something a bit more substantial making its long-awaited (by me, anyway) debut in the magazine – something involving music, murder, mystery...  and this man:

Coming soon - Candlish permitting!

Hammer Over Bristol

Just a quick post to point out that this week, ‘Martillo’ goes live! True, you could already buy the Spanish smiting saga online via Comicsy, but this weekend (May 10^th & 11^th 2014), artist extraordinaire Mr. David Broughton will be selling copies in the flesh* at Bristol Comic Expo! If you’re going to the con, be sure to stop by David’s table (signalled by a great big whopping ‘Martillo’ banner) and pick up a copy! And if you’ve already got one, get hold of David’s latest project, written, drawn and lettered entirely by the chap in question. It’s called ‘Shaman Kane’ and is a 32-page Broughton-fest which involves one man’s struggles with extraterrestrial evil. More info here.

*(Flesh-bound copies sadly not available.)

Tree's Company: PARAGON #16 Branches Out

Spring has sprung, flowers are in bloom and the latest PARAGON has hit the proverbial stands, chockfull of nature’s bounty. Not that I’m suggesting great comics grow on trees, but my small contribution, a somewhat experimental ‘Spencer Nero’ two-pager, certainly features plenty of bark, and hopefully a little bite. The story is based around my strange fascination with metal-eating trees, focusing specifically on The Bicycle Tree of Brig O’ Turk in the Trossachs, albeit suitably embellished. Not that such things are unique to the Loch Lomond neck of the woods – here’s a photo I took of a hungry tree near the village of Strichen.

Art on ‘The Bicycle Tree’ is by small-press star James Corcoran, with a particularly pivotal lettering job by John Caliber. The original plan was to do the story as two nine-panel grids, but it’s ended up as two splash pages instead – probably for the best, particularly when it comes to showcasing James’s sublime art. And indeed, corking art is the order of the day in #16, with a lovely double dose of the fantastic El Chivo, the Newell / Candlish combo breathing life into Mark Howard’s ‘Bludd and Xandi’ (haven’t read that one yet, looking forward to it!) and, of course, the PARAGON debut of Jason Cobley’s legendary Bulldog, ably handled by Stephen Prestwood (see, Prestwood – another tree connection!) By sheer coincidence, I happened to pick up two ‘Bulldog’ collections in Aberdeen’s Oxfam Books quite recently –  they’re the work of a man who clearly has comics flowing through his very veins. Cracking stuff – the new story is a real highlight of the issue.

And so it only remains to suggest you pick up a copy – c'mon, don’t be a sap!

The Man Who Taught the Boy Who Invented Anti-Time

They say it’s best to draw on your own experiences when writing. Well, ‘The Psychedelic Journal of Time Travel #3’ is out, and my story therein, ‘The Boy Who Invented Anti-Time’, is 25% autobiographical. To wit, the first page, set in a classroom, happened pretty much as depicted. (Well, apart from one little universe-dissolving, time-imploding detail.) If you’re wondering which character represents me in this tale of a boy’s greasy brain leaking concepts that were never meant to be leaked, I’ll leave you to figure that out for yourself.

For this one, I team up once more with the mighty art-machine David Broughton, but this time in full lurid colour. We’ve even had a lovely early write-up from review-fiend Steve Hargett, who says:

A classroom and a boy with ideas that could end the world, universe and everything. Excellent concept that really delivers. Bold and engaging art with very well thought out lettering.

Cheers, Steve! But the real praise of course belongs to editorial gurus Owen Watts and Geoffrey Crescent, who, when not busy dancing madly backwards (on a sea of air), have pulled off an utter blinder in compiling this spectactular small-press organ, as consistent in quality as you’d expect from the cornucopia of talented folks involved. You know what to do, comics-buying public! Here’s where to go.

Oh, and as for Carl Pearce's cover - there are no words. Unbelievably brilliant. (Ok, so there're two words at least.) Feast them peepers...

Vietnam Bayonet Massacre!

At last, Massacre For Boys Picture Library #1 is out there – and what a corker it is! Featuring some of the most talented folks in the small-press world (and me), this work of wonder is wrapped up in a David Frankum cover that’s the equal of anything you’ll find in the pro comics world. For a full rundown of the contents, have a look at mastermind Chris Denton’s blog here. Suffice to say, you need to get your hands on a copy, and pronto!

My contribution, in collaboration with the awesome John Caliber, is the inaugural appearance of The Zen Fusilier, also known as Captain Appollinaire Sartre. Operating in the year 1901, Sartre is a Fusilier Marin who has spent considerable time in France’s eastern colonies and developed a unique philosophy and fighting style that fuses oriental wisdom with Gallic imperialism. Now, he fights supernatural horrors opposed to spiritual ascendance.

The character evolved out of a number of ideas and influences. The main one was my fascination with world mythology and folklore. Put simply, I love monsters, the weirder the better, and as my ‘Martillo’ collection suggests, I also love researching the supernatural lore of foreign lands and discovering the mythic beings that have haunted a culture’s imagination. Connected to this is my fondness for Hong Kong vampire movies, particularly the classic ‘Mr. Vampire’, the film which popularised the jiangshi or ‘hopping vampire’. Even the classic tv series ‘Monkey’, with its insistence that demons are to be fought, helped inform Captain Sartre’s mission.

Another very different jumping-off point was a song, specifically ‘A Shogun Named Marcus’ by the band Clutch, about a redneck samurai. This got me thinking about characters who embodied a clash of cultures, and led to my writing a never-finished comic script featuring a parallel world where different historical cultures had merged together. This was done mostly on the basis of my being able to engage in a bit of wordplay with their names, so it included Naztecs (Nazi-Aztecs, later used in ‘Spencer Nero’) and Kung-Fusiliers (‘Kung-Fusilier’ was my original title for ‘The Zen Fusilier’ strip.)

Captain Sartre was also a bit of a reaction against the aforementioned Spencer Nero from PARAGON, who was steadily and enjoyably evolving into a bit of an arse. As a contrast, I wanted write a character who really was a decent guy – who might be an eccentric, infuriating, never-loses-his-cool know-it-all, but was without doubt very moral, genuinely devoted to vanquishing evil, and completely lacking in pettiness.

So there you go. I am at present working on a new adventure for Captain Sartre - one that will see him visiting France's African colonies. Keep 'em peeled, and watch out for strange lights in the night sky....

I Wanna Be Collected – The Spencer Nero Compendium

Cover by Dave Candlish, colours by Jim Cameron

It’s been two-and-a-half years (!) since Spencer Nero first made his lion-thumping, skull-perforating debut in PARAGON #9. Now, all eleven stories to date have been collected into a single hefty tome (you could club a Nazi to death with it!) documenting Spencer’s two-fisted pulp adventures in the year 1936! What’s more, the collection (subtitled ‘By Jupiter’s Jockstrap!’) also includes my original pitch for the series, as well as bonus sketches by James Corcoran from the ‘White Spider’ story, and a foreword from Spencer himself, in which he reveals his... interesting views on comic-books and their readers.


Here’s the complete contents and the credits:

1: Spencer  Nero and the Island of the Naztecs – (6 pages) – Dave Candlish, lettering by HdE

2: Spencer Nero and the White Spider (7 pages) – James Corcoran, lettering by John Caliber

3: Spencer Nero and the Hidden Olympics (7 pages ) – pencils by Mike Kennedy, inks by Dave Candlish, lettering by John Caliber

4: Spencer Nero Goes South (8 pages) – James Corcoran, lettering by John Caliber

5: Spencer Nero and the Ruthless Rhymer (2 pages) – Neil “Bhuna” Roche, lettering by Nikki Foxrobot

6: Spencer Nero and the Locked Door (9 pages) – James Corcoran, lettering by John Caliber

7: Spencer Nero and the Chairman of the Board (9-page prose story) - spot illustrations by Dave Candlish

8: Spencer Nero and the Hour of the Heron (2 pages) – Dave Candlish, lettering by John Caliber

9: Spencer Nero and the Antechamber (2 pages) – pencils by Tom Newell, inks by Dave Candlish, lettering by John Caliber

10: Spencer Nero and Mrs. Simpson (8 pages) – Stephen Prestwood, lettering by Filippo

11: Spencer Nero and the Last Laugh (1 page) – David Broughton, lettering by Owen Watts

Phew! Quite a murderer's row of small-press talent! What more is there to say, apart from...

By Jupiter’s jockstrap - buy Jupiter’s Jockstrap! (Or buy Jupiter’s digital jockstrap here.)

Vale!

Goodbye 1936: PARAGON #15 and PARAGON Annual 2014

Within the space of a fortnight, TWO (yes, TWO!) mighty PARAGON publications, masterminded by small-press guru Dave Candlish, have been published. As is customary, here’s a few words on this festive coupling, since I’ve had a hand in both.

Part 1: The King and I

PARAGON #15 features Spencer Nero (in what will be, if you include the one and two-page stories, his 10^th outing!) taking on that historical threat to traditional British values, Mrs. Wallis Simpson, lover of the King! Yep, the 1936 setting proves fertile once more, as Spencer finds himself embroiled in the abdication crisis. The story is a sort-of sequel to ‘Spencer Nero and the White Spider’, in that it features the return and secret origin of Nazi soul-eater, Saturn Reisen, but it also nods its head in the direction of several past stories. I am pleased that the strip has now reached the point where I can start referencing and building on elements of continuity, whilst still hopefully delivering an accessible done-in-one story. I’m particularly happy this story ended up in the winter issue of PARAGON, as it is set in December ’36 (yep, Spencer’s moving into 1937 next year!) and has snow in it for at least three panels. Of course, the real king of the story is artist Stephen Prestwood, who puts his stamp firmly on Spencer, and delivers some striking two-fisted, square-jawed action. He even draws good giant maggots – which is just as well, since Spencer seems to have adopted one, and intends to name it Iapetus, after one of Saturn’s moons.

Of course, #15 also features some stellar work from my fellow small-pressers. On the artistic front alone, this must be one of the most varied and yet accomplished issues so far, featuring wildly contrasting but no less aesthetically stunning pages. It’d be hard to name a favourite – Chris Askham’s brilliantly atmospheric work on Mark Howard's ‘Jikan: Demeter’ is a definite highlight, well-suited to a  script that features a great central conceit, a great final page, and an excess of vampiric hissing. Elsewhere in the issue, the wonderful El Chivo turns in some superb, energetic, characterful work, every figure chock-full of vigor and personality, whilst the Davey Candlish / Tom  Newell combo works together to stylish and elegant effect, illustrating the intriguing ‘Bludd & Xandi’ (with Icarus Dangerous now finished, PARAGON is honour-bound to feature a winged protagonist in at least one of its stories!) And of course, there’s Jim Cameron’s cute-but-sometimes-sinister work in ‘The Biggest Stick’, with an HdE script that, were it squished down to four pages, would be more than worthy of appearing in 2000AD as a Future Shock. It’s not hard to see why no less an authority than John Freeman reckoned this was the finest issue to date.

 

 

Part 2: Annual General Beating

 

Meanwhile, over in the PARAGON Annual 2014, Spencer enters a new and unexplored medium – prose! Based around the theme of board games (though I wrote it without realising Davey would be including a Jikan board game in the annual!) ‘Spencer Nero and the Chairman of the Board’ introduces a new foe for the Civil Centurion – Sors, God of Luck. It also reintroduces Oswald Gypsum, Mr. Alabaster’s nephew, from the ‘Ruthless Rhymer’ story. The story sees Spencer playing live-action Monopoly – the game was, of course, launched in Britain in 1936 (there’s that year again!)

I must admit, I found it really hard to settle on a story for the prose tale. My first thoughts involved a tale called ‘Spencer Nero and the Purple Prose’, in which form and content would match, and in which Spencer would find an ancient tome that encouraged ever more flowery and pretentious speech. However, I shelved that idea and decided instead to write a prose adaptation of a comic script I was working on, ‘Spencer Nero and the Pack’ - until I decided that one really did work better as a script after all. The same thing happened with another half-finished script, in which Spencer falls in love (!) – though I’m not telling you with whom or with what! Finally, I settled on the ‘board game’ idea, because it seemed well-suited to appearing in an annual published at a time of year when so many of such games get an airing.

Unlike with #15, I’m not going to discuss the rest of the annual, ‘cos I reckon it’s best approached like a treasure trove or a well-wrapped Christmas present – half the fun is ripping off the layers of shiny paper and discovering for yourself what joys lie within! Davey Candlish is pursuing a very specific aesthetic with this one, paying loving homage to the annuals of his youth, and I feel he’s succeeded very well in recreating the vibe he’s after. All I will say is that the annual also features familiar dose of Spanish nonsense – much as no nativity scene is complete without a caganer! And with that, I shall see you in 1937 – or 2014, if you prefer.

Sors bless us, every one!