Of "Characters," Composition, and Fierce Creativity

Lately, I've been bemoaning the loss of pre-political social media, when my feed was full of creativity and art rather than outrage. However, something happened recently that made me realize the creative community hasn't vanished.

Stan Stewart (@muz4now), one of the creatives I connected with on Twitter, is a gifted improv musician.

A few years ago, I tried something new with my writing and created a blog in which I serialized a young adult novel, releasing it in pieces online throughout a school year. I didn't know if anyone would end up reading it.

Well, Stan did, and he liked it. He'd weigh in in the Comments sections from time to time and tell me how much he was enjoying the read. He even recommended the book blog to others.

He wasn't my target audience. I didn't care.

I eventually took the book offline and revised it. An editor for a new publisher read it, liked it, and offered to publish it. I contacted Stan shortly after signing the contract to ask if he'd be willing to do some improv pieces as a cross-promotional thing.

He agreed, then promptly *composed an entire freaking album* as a companion piece to my book. I was thrilled!

The pub date loomed. We planned promos. Then--

DISASTER.


The publisher went through growing pains. My acquiring editor left. My book endured four editors, with each edit growing further removed from my original story.

Eventually, the publisher and I parted ways. It was 2015. We didn't yet know that Robert was terminally ill, but we knew he was having serious health issues. So I took care of him and shelved the YA project, which was in pieces.

I felt awful, because Stan got left in the lurch. Time passed. So did my husband. Then, earlier this year, Stan said he'd like to release the album.

In the meantime, I had signed with Agent Awesome. I toyed with self-publishing the YA novel to coincide with the album, but AA seems to think the book may have a future in traditional publishing. So we waits.

In the interim, "Characters," Stan's beautiful, haunting album inspired by my book, is now available. Thirteen gorgeous tracks, each providing the score for a particular character or scene in "Dear Alderone."

Thanks to Stan, I am reminded anew how much I love the vibrant, creative people I meet online. Their generosity, their talent, and their fierce creativity never cease to inspire me.

Confessions of a Working Artist: Q & A with Karina Dale

I am thrilled to introduce you to the amazing artist Karina Dale (or xKxDx, as she is known on various social media sites). 

In addition to creating the. most. amazing. illustrations -- often literally giving me visuals on characters that previously existed only in my head -- I love the niche she has carved for herself in the world of fandom.


After an in-depth discussion over how her approach to creating characters with lines was almost exactly the opposite of mine for creating the same characters with words, I knew I wanted you to meet her.  So...

Heeeere's Karina!


Q:  You are active on many social media platforms: Twitter, Instagram, Tumbler… How do you balance engagement with time management?

A:  I don't. I'm terrible at that. I'll engage a whole bunch, be funny, not post a lot of art or anything, then forget it all exists for a week. I do things exactly how all the social networking experts say you're not supposed to, but somehow, people stick around. Time management is literally the bane of my existence. Falls right behind getting old and getting sick!

I try my best to weigh my work-a-holic tendencies with having a little fun and hanging out with my friends, but most everyone knows that hanging out with me usually means competing with whatever project I'm working on. I think most people like to see the stuff I make a lot more than they want to hear my witty one-liners on Twitter anyhow. I'm cool with that. I know what I'm good at!


Q:  What are your preferred subjects for illustration? What is your preferred medium? Why?

A:  My preferred subject matter is people. All kinds.

I love diversity and I try my best to celebrate it. I like characters that don't already have a face, or characters who are allowed to change, depending on who is doing the drawing. Books, comic books, movies, television, etc.

I love drawing the people I know, but there's very little room for interpretation. As a realist I'm gonna draw my buddy looking like my buddy, down to the detail. But the Winter Soldier, let's say, he could be Sebastian Stan as cast by MCU, or my husband, or maybe Brock O'Hurn. Who knows?

As far as mediums go, I prefer digital art by necessity. I'm allergic to plastics and petroleum products. So, almost all paints, color pencils, watercolors, charcoal and graphite fixatives, etc. are out. I like digital art but it sucks sometimes not being able to actually hold your finished product until the printer spits it out.

I'm not really that great with digital mediums specifically, though. I don't use Photoshop. I use a painting emulator called SAI. I mostly use it as a direct replacement for traditional media, which is why my art often looks traditionally made. I just treat my computer like a sketch pad or a canvas. It probably takes a lot more time than it should, but I like the process of sketching. I've been doing it my whole life. It's what I'm good at.

A portion of a Karina Dale character illustration
for KNIGHTFALL, my novel-in-progress.
Gorgeous art: Karina. Watermarks that obscure it: me.

Q:  What is your process? 

A:  I'm freelance, totally independent, so a lot of the time my process involves getting comfy, putting my reference pictures on my TV and drawing blue, red, and black lines until I don't hate it. There's a lot of that sort of thing recorded over at my livestream. You (Ami) have gotten a lot of my unfinished sketch art and basically it's just refined black lines on a white background. (IMHO "refined black lines" is an understatement. A.H.) There's never a lot of process to that. Keeping it simple gives you more freedom to change stuff and make it cooler.

After sketching I sometimes color. That's a process, but I've worked the last year on simplifying that as well. Now coloring works a lot like sketching for me. Instead of a bunch of complicated work, I lay down a base layer, a lot of color, and blend it together until I think it looks right. You can't just do that sort of thing right out the gate though. It's a learned skill, just like sketching.


Q:  What are some common misconceptions people have about artists?

A:  That we're cool, or super excited about all the things we draw. It's work a lot of the time.  I like work though, and I also like when people buy my things. As a freelancer, it's very validating to sell all the pretty things. Basically, if I like a thing and the rest of the world likes that thing too, I'll draw it a lot. It does not mean I'm super, intensely into it. I'm weird, so a lot of the stuff I like falls on blind eyes. You won't see a ton of obscure subject matter being posted in my streams.

Also, I am not cool. I have a house, a partner, some dogs, a few bad habits and an ugly yard. Talking to me for an hour might be entertaining, but living a day in my life is a snoozefest. Contrary to popular assumption, I don't have the energy to be cool! Regardless, a lot of people say that to me when they meet me and I legitimately have no idea what to say except 'thanks.' I have a few stories about being an interesting human being but most of them happened a decade ago. Pro tip: compliment my line quality, then we can talk.


Q:  So: Sterek. Discuss.

A:  You wanna open that grab bag of chaos? Fine, we'll go there.... Man, I hope my consistently jovial attitude in this interview comes across well. I'm funny. I'm always funny, except when I'm not.

I digress. Sterek. Yeah.

So, I had a pretty nice career going in pin-up and promotional art, but the ingrained misogyny and patriarchal, racist, sizist, ageist, transphobic (etc.) bullshit was like a lake of oily muck you could never wash off. Our general audience was that asshole, entitled white dude with all the money to drop on shows and merch. It sucked. I loved my fellow creators, but the daily struggle of dealing with consumers of pin-up and similar art made life inside rigorous.

One day I was enjoying my moving wallpaper (aka Color Television Shows via Internets) while I was drawing and this moment of curiosity struck me: does anyone else think this big, burly dude and this weird skinny kid in this strange 1980's movie to television remake have real chemistry? or is it just me? Did Mtv do it on purpose? I had to know! Back then they were comedy gold, and it actually read like a slow burn gay pairing. I was impressed with Mtv's bravery and writing. I went online and looked it up. Within a couple days the Sterek fandom sucked me into their world with a kind if enthusiastic happiness I have never seen before.

It was a bunch of ladies, queer kids, and miscreant youths. I had finally found my people! I quit pin-up and started doing fandom art instead. I had an idea I might like to do concept art, but that would mean going back to work for the privileged dudes with money, so nah. Thanks anyways. I'll stick around and make fandom happy. Take the jobs I like from people I respect. Sure, I like Sterek okay. They're cute if you ignore the flaming balls of crazy the network decided to throw everyone, but eh, that's what I'm for. I'm happy to bring alternative versions of reality to life to make all my friends happy. It's like my own personal form of queer activism.

Sterek inadvertently changed my life. Maybe it was my attention to detail and curiosity that pushed me there, but the fandom kept me around. They've been amazing. I can't thank them enough.


Q:  When you teach artists’ workshops, what are some of the most common things you see other artists struggle with — and what suggestions do you have for them?

A:  Fuel for motivation and the self worth needed to feel like your creations are worth creating. If I could bottle and sell that, I'd make millions. I spend hours talking to people about how to build up the positive inner voice and ignore the outer negative voices. I wish I was better at giving people those tools honestly.

Also, how elitists and ableists ruin art done for enjoyment. AKA not getting paid, just doing it for fun. If anyone ever tells you 'you cheated, that's not art,' they're a jerk and their opinion is null and void by default. More people need to understand both sides of saying something that destructive about art someone has created purely for enjoyment.

(A.H.  Karina recently taught an artist's class which included the Most Excellent Handout Ever, with regards to dealing with joysuckers, trolls, and naysayers.)

Ellie, from THE LION'S CLUB, portrait in progress.

Q:  What three pieces of advice would you give to an aspiring artist?

A:  Practice for yourself, be kind to your hands, and find really great cheerleaders.



Q:  You consistently advocate for artist credit and don’t hesitate to call out online offenders who post art without crediting the source. Any advice to other creatives for balancing vigilance with maintaining creativity?

A:  It's nearly impossible. Every hour I spend filling out DCMA forms is an hour lost creating. People are welcome to repost my art on platforms that don't support reblogging my original post. All they have to do is tag back to me. Other artists have other rules, but those are mine. For some unknown reason these kids would rather steal a bunch of art and piss the artists off than network and make friends. I don't understand it at all.

Of course, most working artists and fan artists want exposure. Their audience is great, please, by all means, I invite them to post, if they credit and tag back. For some reason there's this new psychology of online attention seeking that doesn't include sharing credit. They'd rather steal and watch their numbers go up, like a video game, than make friends and be part of a team. /end rant.

I try not to spend so much time being an online vigilante now days. All those people end up getting their accounts deleted anyways. They have the half life of any virus. If you don't want to be that guy, make friends, ask, respect content. It's all part of the new online language. The internet is growing up just like we are; one day, hopefully, these ideas will be a generally accepted online social practice.


Q: So, where can people find you?

A:  patreon.com/xkxdx
twitter.com/xkxdx
tumblr.com/xkxdx
instagram.com/karinadale

I'm KarinaDale or xKxDx almost everywhere!

A.H. See? See why I wanted you to meet her? I am so grateful to Karina Dale for graciously agreeing to do this interview. I trust you found it as inspiring as I did.

The Do-It-Yourself Writing Retreat

All summer, I have been not-so-secretly jealous of my writing friends who put their lives on hold to go on a writing retreat. It was hard not to be tinged with the teensiest bit of green when hearing of those who eschewed the demands of parenting, working, and spousing for awhile in order to spend some serious quality time with the creative muse.

One need not escape in order to create.

And then I got to thinking: my thinly veiled envy wasn't because my friends were spending time at the shore, or in the woods, or in the mountains. No. It was the sheer concentrated writing time that I begrudged them.

This realization soon led to another:

If they could do it, goshdangnabbit, so could I.

This inelegant (but motivational) thought led me to create the DIY Writing Retreat. It's amazingly simple. Here's how it works:

• For three consecutive days, I am going to focus primarily on my writing. My family has people in it (other than I) who are capable of cooking. [Note to self: if the cooking tenet proves false, we can easily survive on mac & cheese and takeout pizza during that time, if need be. My muse thrives on carbs.]

• During my retreat, I am more writer than mom, daughter, friend, or spouse. 
• I will not do laundry, run errands, go grocery shopping, weed the garden, troubleshoot relationships, babysit, or talk to telemarketers. 
• I will not answer the phone. 
• I will not muck about on social media sites. 
• I will not feel guilty about this. 
• I will not back down. 
• I. Will. Write.

Because I have access to the mystically magical Net of Inter, I'm going to have New York Times bestselling author Jennifer Crusie be the keynote presenter to kick off my retreat.

You see, several years ago, Crusie wrote an awesome post that was ostensibly about finding an agent, but was more accurately a step-by-step blueprint on How To Discover Your Ideal Writing Career. Addressing the "you can only answer these for yourself" questions and issues raised within that post shall be Item One on my DIY Writing Retreat Schedule.

I'll spend some of my DIY Writing Retreat time focusing on word count.

I'll spend some time focusing on improving specific parts of my craft.

And I'll spend some time plotting and planning so I have a clear vision of where my WIP is headed when I return to the story of my life that's already in progress.

I will not spend time doing research online because I know that the aforementioned Net of Inter exerts a strange and terrible influence over me. I can begin researching ninth century peasant life to add veracity to my story, only to fall down the YouTube rabbit hole, emerging two hours later dazed and addled and laughing hysterically after yet another viewing of Tim Hawkins' Inappropriate Wedding Songs.

I will not spend my time painting my fingernails, or my toenails, or (God forbid!) cleaning my house or my writing studio.

I will not delude myself into believing that 140-character tweets count as writing. My family won't be noshing on takeout so I can fraternize with my Twitter friends.

I fully expect to emerge from the three days of self-imposed exile, disheveled, over-caffeinated and recharged with creative juice, with several thousand as-yet-unwritten words added to my novel in progress. Who knows? If the family can handle one more visit from the Pizza Guy, I may decide to extend my DIY Writing Retreat by another day... Or two.

My 3-day indulgence begins on Monday, August 27. Don't be jealous! Join me from the comfort of your own home, and embark on a #DIYWriting Retreat of your very own.

Photo via www.MorgueFile.com

Why You Shouldn't Be Embarrassed About Your Art

I'm not your average television & movie watcher. Ask anyone -- especially WunderGuy and BFF -- and they'll tell corroborate this. I'm a bit... odd.

For me, watching a movie or TV show is a communal experience a la "Rocky Horror Picture Show" or "MST3000."

I don't always kibbutz, mind you. IMHO, viewing a movie in a theatre that includes actual other people in the audience mandates the STFU rule.

I *can* be quiet. It's just not as much fun. If given the opportunity and a suitably open-minded viewing buddy, I'll comment on the script writing, the character development, and remark on the casting choices. I'm especially adept at offering unsolicited (and generally ignored) advice to the characters.

Something else I do is pay attention to casting. In my next life I'd like to be an intergalactic astronaut. Barring that, I'd like to be a casting director.

I notice when parts are cast well and pay what some would say is an inordinate amount of attention to the bit players. I'm one of those derps who notices when the same group of people start showing up together in movies or in several series -- positing that they all have the same agent who offered a package deal if three or more clients were hired.

When I find an actor or actress I like, I'll go out of my way to watch everything they've done -- with a few exceptions.

(I don't do porn and can't stomach horror. So though I love Matt Bomer, I can't make myself watch Michael Bay's "Texas Chainsaw Massacre," even though it features both Bryce AND Jill from Chuck. I just don't need to see Matt's pretty face torn off.

"Magic Mike," BTW, doesn't "technically" qualify as porn. So, yeah, I'll be there. But I digress...)

I watch so many movies that it's always nice when I find someone new whose work I admire because it generally gives me a whole list of new things to see. I've watched the careers progress of some fabulously talented people that way & found some movies I like that I would never have seen otherwise.

Case in point: "The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe" jumpstarted my James McAvoy obsession (which really never went away -- I think the man is Ah. Maze. Zing.)

Before he was Wanted, he was Leto in Children of Dune.

So I watched everything he'd done up to then, including "Shameless," "Rory O'Shea Was Here," "Children of Dune," and the never-seen-anything-quite-like-it "Strings." All of which I would probably have missed. All of which I now own. All of which introduced me to even more people whose work I admire...

Like, fer instance,  the uber-talented Paul Abbott, whose writing I fangirl-squee *adore.*

When I watch "the early days" of a performer, I'm quite forgiving. I understand that though the raw talent may be there, it sometimes takes time, experience, and resources to hone it into something brilliant. But often, there is still a spark of "WOW" even while the craft is still developing.

That's why I'm always happy when a performer I like breaks out and hits the big time. It generally means that the stuff they did "before they were famous," that's been sitting on the shelf doing no one any good, will finally see the light of day. Not only does it give fans a chance to watch a star develop his or her glow, but it also allows other actors and directors who are still waiting for their break to enjoy some recognition.

For these and other reasons, I get a wee bit chuffed when I try to track down an earlier project of a pre-stellar star and can't find it. It's downright selfish, if you ask me.

The most blatant example of this I've encountered in a while is the director who responded to a fan who contacted him about one of his short films featuring Darren Criss before he went nuclear:

"It's... a film that I'm very embarrassed about having made. So, for now, it'll stay under lock and key. Unless I can convince you to buy it for an amount that will finance my next picture..."

He then attempts to extort $500K! (Frankly, given the number of Criss fans, all the director has to do is run a Kickstarter campaign with copies of the short as incentives to those who donate, and he'd probably raise his half mill.)

I don't understand this kind of thinking. But I am not a director. My friend Paul, who is a director, explained it to me.

"No one in the industry cares about growth. All they want is perfection. Several of my short films that have won awards I would *never* make available," he said. "Online or on-demand. I want people to hire me for major features. Some of the shorts I made were Make-A-Movie-In-72-Hours contest films. I don't want those out there as examples of my work."

"Even if your lead actress suddenly becomes Miss Universe?" I asked.

"Especially then."

I still don't get it. These days, when people feel compelled to post videos of their farting dogs and epic skateboard fails on YouTube, the concept of "being embarrassed" seems as anachronistic as releasing a new EP on 8-track tape. I especially don't understand the mentality of those who are embarrassed by a creative project they once did.

See -- art is never perfect. It's not. Dance. Acting. Music. Writing. There will always be something you could have done to make the piece better. Sometime you will kerfluff a performance altogether. Sometimes you will crash and burn.

But that doesn't mean you should be embarrassed. Even Spielberg has a 1941 to his name. And that's OK.

Thanks to Hollywood and to our judged, televised, talent shows, we have come to the place where we feel compelled to be perfect every time. Which is, of course, impossible. Even if you're Matt. Or James. Or Darren. Or Steven.

No one is perfectly perfect. And the more you insist on your own perfection, the more you will squash your creative muse into a box that is too small, that smells funny, and that stunts its growth. As your skills grow, your art will inevitably change. Hopefully, you will improve. What you create as a mature artist will, quite possibly, eclipse what you do in your early days.

But never let anyone tell you your early work has no merit. You never know: perhaps your raw, unformed talent will speak to some people in ways that the stuff done with mastery and control never could.

In any case: it's art. It's the creative equivalent of your child. Once you've created it, it exists apart from you.

Make no mistake: I'm not suggesting that you shouldn't sweat blood while in the creation phase. By all means, do your best with whatever project you are working on at any given time.
Then set it free. 

Move on, unencumbered by regret or worries about how what you've created reflects upon you. Keep your eyes fixed forward, looking toward your next challenge. Allow what you've done in the past to remain in the past, testifying to how far you've progressed, forming the foundation for the great things to come.

What do you think? Does anything you've created embarrass you? Why or why not? I'd love to know.

Soul-Stirring Creative Inspiration from Elizabeth Gilbert ("Eat. Pray. Love.")

This is as inspiring as any sermon I could have heard today. Treat yourself to the 20 minutes it takes to see this. It will free you of any creative angst, and allow yourself to be open to the divine possibilities of inspiration...



Thank you, Elizabeth Gilbert, for your insights on the creative process.