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saiyanhajime · 5 years ago

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My First Artist Alley at a Comic Con… What I’ve Learnt

I’ve thought about selling my wears in artist alley for something like ten years now… And aside from feeling like my stuff isn’t good enough to compete until relatively recently, the main reason I hadn’t given it a whirl until now was the cost. I couldn’t understand how it would be financially viable, and if you’re here to find the quick answer to that same burning question, the answer is it’s not - at least for me. But if I’m being honest and perhaps a little harsh, I can’t really see how it could be what I would consider truly “worthwhile” for all but the most successful artists in the alley when you factor in all expenses.

But would I do it again? Hell yes. Did I have fun? Absolutely! Was there value in networking, making friends and social media gains? Yes, yes and yes!

I went to London Comic Con Spring run by Showmasters. I choose this con because of a few reasons, namely that it was the next local con with tables left when I started seriously obsessing over wanting to do this.

The stall was very reasonable at £80 (but I paid an extra £30 for an additional person to help out.)

This convention is a lot more Film and TV focused than was ideal for what I thought my audience would be - with their main highlight being their guest signings. I knew this going in and my assumptions were right, I think. That said, the “small press” section of the event was wildly varied, but it did feel like actual comic creators were doing the best of us all.

The Expenses

The costs add up, fast. A £ here and there and you’ve racked up £500 or so worth of expenses before you’ve even factored in potential travel, food and hotels… Let alone time. I know you’re probably thinking you wouldn’t spend that much, but believe me - if you record EVERY cost related to getting your stall together, you’ll be shocked how fast it accumulates. You’ll find yourself looking at all the £3-5 you spent on bits n bobs wondering how the final sum is so high.

I know what you’re thinking… You can do it cheaper. I just didn’t try hard enough to get these costs down. But believe me, I did.

I spent way more time than was worthwhile researching costs - these prices include VAT & they include shipping - I wanted the most accurate picture of the hard cash I would actually have to spend up front… And the oddly expensive ones like the postcards cost so much because I effectively paid a premium to have multiple designs. My logic was to try lots of different things, learn as much as possible, but have few in quantity of each design. That way, the flops hurt less. You pay more per item for that privilege, but what’s the use in having 100 of something that won’t sell? I’d rather learn from x10 of something even if I’m making half the profit “per item”.

That’s a mistake a think so many businesses make - don’t think of profit per item, think of it in profit on entire expenses. I made a huge loss, just like I expected. :) My 100 postcards for example costing £50 makes them 50p each, and selling at £1.50 means £1 profit per postcard. That’s £100 profit! Except I only sold 10 - that means a £35 loss for the time being. It’s not a profit until you recoup the whole cost. And I thought of the whole cost as that £550 sum from the get go. Only once I cover all accumulated costs am I making a profit.

But most of these costs are reusable… I could go to another con tomorrow and only pay an additional £150 or so for the table, travel, etc. and have enough stock and a decent display. And that’s my intention - don’t give up, do a few, then evaluate. THEN give up. :)

So realistically, you need to be willing to waste £800+ to find out if this game is for you. That’s a big chunk of money not to be sniffed at and you should be aware of that before you jump in.

The Products

What should I take? Who should I order it from?? How much stock do I need???

These are unanswerable questions because they are highly personal. I see soooo many “where should I get prints from??” with people expecting an easy answer. There isn’t one. But I can try and explain why there isn’t one. I think a lot of newbies assume creators don’t want to share their suppliers because they’re being protective or don’t want the competition - nonono, it’s that the answer is different for everyone. An established, popular and successful artist in the alley is likely ordering huge bulk orders from a supplier that has a minimum order of hundreds or thousands. What good is that information to us newbies? It’s useless.

Prints

In the end, I took 7 print designs…. All fanart, with 4 of the designs being Dragon Ball, 2 of the designs Sonic the Hedgehog and one of GLaDOS from Portal 2. Two of the designs were on A3 and the rest on A4.

I ordered A4 and A3 prints from different suppliers, as they were cheaper this way, EVEN with the postage factored in - which is absolutely ridiculous I know, but you begin to see why “x company is best for prints!” is a useless piece of advice. But sit tight, cuz it gets way worse.

I ordered as few as possible, but a couple of websites had the same price for 5 as the other did for 10, etc. so I went with the one that offered more for the same, obviously. I had x6 (including the display print) of each A4 print and x10 of each A3 - not because I thought they would sell twice as much, just because that’s the least I could get for the cheapest price! And to make matters even more complex - I made those orders based on coupons I had found and you often can’t see the total inc postage until you’ve got everything in your basket and entered your address and email. I looked at maybe 20 suppliers. Imagine how long that took, just for prints. And if I did the same thing tomorrow, it wouldn’t be the same suppliers who were cheaper - coupons and offers change the game, quantity required changes the game. Getting 30 A4 prints might be cheaper on one site, but it might be better to get them from another if you’re after 40, and it definitely will be if you’re wanting them to be all the same - then you can probably get 100 for less than I paid. Nightmare. And you find yourself going “but I can get 100 of the same print for £17 - maybe it’s worth the investment…” Maybe? Who knows! Probably not though.

I don’t think I’d bother with ordering A3 again anytime soon - the main reason is that A3 cellophane bags and carrier bags big enough for such a large print are quite a considerable added expense… And a lot of potential buyers commented how they loved a print but just don’t have the wall space. I also couldn’t find a supplier that would offer to print less than 10 A3 prints in one design. One buyer commented that they would get one of my other prints if it was larger - but would they? I know from experience selling online that people often say “oh man I’d so get a ____ if you did one!” and you do and you even link it to them and then silence. Don’t take what potential customers say too seriously, unless you’ve got a decent number of them telling you the same thing. But for me, 3 people telling me that on top of my other reasons for disliking A3 is enough to go, ok… Forget A3.

Perhaps my best piece of advice is to sign up to every supplier's newsletter. I get emailed deals almost daily now and if you’ve got the time to play with, it’s worth getting your stuff ready for print and just sitting and waiting for that coupon to drop. 15-20% off can make a huge difference to your margins. I purposefully waited until January to place my orders, expecting a post Christmas assortment of deals, and I was right. Bare in mind that many suppliers can take a while to get stuff to you and it might not be right - so don’t cut it too late to order things. I ordered everything just under two months ahead of the con and had plenty of time to then play with and practise setting up how I was going to display things.

So, how did the prints do? I sold out of the Sonic and Shadow print - including the display, which I sold at a marked down rate. I sold 2 of each A3 print - Great Ape Vegeta vs Goku and GLaDOS… 1 of Majin Vegeta, 2 of Fleetway Super Sonic. None of Gogeta or Shenron.

So, Dragon Ball wasn’t so hot, Sonic absolutely was. Is that a long term trend, or just this con? Hell if I know.

I didn’t have a portfolio book with my prints in on the table - I thought that was a waste of space if I can fit them all up on my display - but with hindsight, you get two types of people... Those who aren’t interested in artist alley stalls and pass through at a distance and a print up high MIGHT catch their eye and bring them over. But the vast majority of people you’ll sell to have their eyes down at the tables as they pass. This was the most important thing I learnt - I’d read so much about how important it is to use “vertical” space and tried to get as much off the table as possible, but by day 2 I was spreading more out on the table until every inch of it was covered. I often had to tell people about my prints and they would look up having not noticed them! I had read that people recommend having a portfolio book for people to thumb through - but I hadn’t really understood the benefit of that. Having people touch and interact with stuff on the table is such a valuable interaction that sparks natural conversations. It’s really important to have physical stuff ON the table, perhaps more so than getting a fancy vertical setup. If you’re strapped for cash - ditch the idea of grid cubes or similar completely. Just lay stuff out.

Postcards

When my postcards arrived I immediately realised I’d made a stupid mistake. I was obsessed with getting the display vertical and having lots of different designs. Having so many different postcards to display was a nightmare that I think impacted the whole setup. The wall they created took light away from one side of the display, they were really quite oppressive! - and I knew this before I even went to the show, but I didn’t know how else to display them. I don’t think I would order postcards again, they barely sold… But the 90 I have leftover will be displayed in a photo album on the table next time for sure. Seems so obvious now! They were a HUGE waste of money - they’re expensive for what they are to get made and the retail price of them is abysmal. But, there were a couple of times when people who didn’t have the money for a big print maybe wouldn’t have bought anything, but I had something cheap and cheerful to offer, which was nice. The other cool thing about them is you can have your website on the back and it doesn’t seem out of place or weird.

The main problem with finding a postcard provider was I couldn’t find anywhere that would do small print runs to allow me to order several designs, so I ended up going with the one company I knew who’d do that - Moo. But man are they expensive - I could have got 500 postcards of one design for less than half what I paid for 100 of 25 diff designs - but again, having the variety mattered to me.

Postcards are a pain and not worth it, which explains why I so rarely see them for sale. Lesson learned!

If you have a decent inkjet printer, postcards are super easy to make and I used to do this before I lost patience with inkjet home printers and switched to laser. Just get thick photo paper, already the correct size!

Stickers

I had a mix of kiss-cut and die-cut stickers that by day two I was spreading out on the table and absolutely getting more sales as a direct result… They still didn’t do exceptionally well, but I don’t regret having them. They’re a solid low-retail-price staple of the artist alley table. Pieces of art with a purpose, especially in the age of reusable water bottles. A couple of fellow artists noted that my stickers were very cheap priced at £1.50 and I kind of agree. I think next time they will be £2 and this won’t negatively affect sales. There’s a common fallacy that making something cheaper will increase sales - the likelihood is that it won’t, and when you think how many more sales you have to make to gain the same profit, you realise this is the case. Just that small difference of 50p would mean you have to sell 25% less stickers to make the same amount of money. Isn’t that insane? When you think of it this way, pricing your items right really matters.

I also had sticker sheets - the Baa (from Dragon Ball) ones I only sold one of, to a child who I’m not sure even knew what they were from, but the Sonic sheet did pretty well! I didn’t see many other artists rocking Sonic stuff - or even much Sonic stuff on the wider show floor - which is surprising given the recent film release. I guess I just tapped into a niche, but it’s hard to tell.

Several suppliers of stickers offer multiple designs as standard, or a small surcharge for having multiple designs. Shop around. Stickers are overpriced from many suppliers. The popular choice of Stickermule often run deals where you can get 50 for £19, but even this deal price is quite expensive for x50 of the same sticker. They are by far the best quality stickers, to be fair to them… But you don’t need x50 of one sticker for the purpose of artist alley. I’ve jumped on Stickermule promos in the past where they charge £1 for 10 stickers. That’s a great opportunity to try out design you’re really not sure about. I can’t stress enough how important newsletter signup to suppliers is!

Honestly, Zap Creatives are the only company I’ve used that I would recommend without a second thought. Their customer service is exceptional, their postal packaging is not only environmentally friendly but also adequate (I had a lot of issues with other suppliers packaging and items arriving to me damaged! Another reason you need to order far in advance.) and their prices are transparent and extremely good value. They have free postage (globally, I believe!), which makes it so easy to see how much you’ll be spending at a glance. They have detailed “how to” pages for setting up your files. They’re a dream come true. Sign up to their newsletter, follow them on socials, give them your money - they deserve it. Not sponsored, just genuinely impressed.

Comic

Back at Uni a friend and I made a little comic, and I got some more copies made and took it along because, why not… It is COMIC con after all, and this convention actually calls the artist alley “small press”. It sold pretty well for an independent original to a wide variety of people, young and old. It made me really happy to see an original work sell! You’d be surprised how cheap getting a book printed can be - but be willing for the pages to be slightly misaligned and the paper quality eh. But if you just want a cheap comic printed or a zine, it is very doable in small runs even as low as 10. Remember that stuff doesn’t need to be perfect. Don’t stress over imperfections. I wouldn’t recommend the supplier I used because their delivery was an abysmal royal shit-show, but their customer service made up for it and then their re-delivery was only a slightly less abysmal royal shit-show on the second attempt. So, I won’t mention them.

On that note - if a supplier isn’t good enough, get in touch with their customer services and be nice but tell them it’s not good enough. Give them a chance to fix things.

Traditional Art Originals

I took a lot of traditional media original artworks with me, mostly because I had them already. I sold one low value original.

This was a little heartbreaking because the sale of just one high value original would have pushed the worthwhileness a long way - but it is a lot of money to expect people to spend and is a luck of the draw situation, for sure.

However, the larger ones definitely attracted attention to my stall and created conversation - so I’d say if you have larger originals or small low value quick drawings, they’re worth bringing, but I wouldn’t make any for the intent of selling in the future.

I don’t think a single person thumbed through my plate rack of originals. It was a poor display idea. Don’t recommend it at all. But I can’t think of a better idea other than individual easel displays which take up valuable table space better used for spreading out other items flat.

How could I have done better?

I think having more variety of franchises in my prints was the only HUGE mistake that I kinda knew before I arrived might be an issue. The reason I didn’t was I was worried about space and this could have been avoided had I just listened to the advice I read and had a portfolio out - I even have an A4 portfolio book! Stupid. I’m stupid.

Would I have done enough better to make a profit? No way haha.

How did other people seem to be doing?

It didn’t seem like anyone was doing particularly well… But without knowing peoples numbers, it’s hard to say. And I doubt many people keep the obsessive books I do.

I am pretty sure a lot of convention artists don’t realise the amount they are spending vs the amount they aren’t making… But I could be wrong. There’s a lot of talk of “making table” which I did make back, but I came nowhere close to making back all associated costs. I think for it to be legitimately financially “worthwhile”, you’d have to take about £2k over a weekend - to account for the time and all expenses and paying yourself a decent wage. And if your prints are £10 each, that’s more than 10 prints sold an hour. No one was anywhere near this busy. No way.

A few artists told me this isn’t the most amazing show in the first place and they’ve done worse than they did at this same show last year, even if it seemed physically busier at times this year. A lot of this game is luck of the draw - who’s turning up, how much do they have to spend, what's the weather doing, etc. etc…

Do I need a card reader?

My sales were about 50/50 cash and card… But I ran out of exact change at one point, so being able to take card payments saved the sale. I have a Sum Up reader as it was the cheapest to buy up front and I had no issues with it the whole weekend. At £20 it was a bargain. I think I would rather have that than the cube display grid, for example.

Do you have any cost shaving tips?

Oh hell yeah!

First up - like I said before - sign up to every single potential supplier newsletter. Some of them send out coupons almost weekly.

I bought very little in the way of display equipment and salvaged the rest...

I borrowed some plate stands from my nan, I took empty cardboard displays from ASDA and Sainsbury's (I’d try Walmart or Target in the USA). These were great because they fold down flat for transporting, are light and FREE! Keep your eyes peeled when you’re out shopping for ones which might be the right size for your products. Often times you can transfer the one or two items left in them to another box in the store, or they’re simply empty. I found ASDA best for having completely unbranded boxes. I also made some stands for my small originals from thick card rather than by expensive display racks that are heavy to transport and cost a bomb.

Pick local shows if you can and research thoroughly your transport options and the cost. Parking, trains, hotel costs and eating out can be extortionate additions to your overall expense that are easily forgotten.

Make sure you can carry your setup and don’t need to spend additional money on an Uber or something to help you move shit around!

Use what you have. Don’t buy storage boxes and suitcases and trolleys if you don’t have to. Sure, they might make your life slightly easier, but maybe wait and see how your first few cons go.

Any other tips or things you wish you’d known?

One thing that was kinda stressing me out was leaving stock overnight, but I realised there’s a whole show floor of high value figurines down there...

Leaving the stall unattended isn’t a big deal, either. Obviously take your money with you, but your neighbors can let potential customers know you’ve popped to the loo and I saw several “Back Soon!” signs throughout the day. I took a friend mostly as company, but I would confidently do a con alone having seen how much of a non-issue this is. Having a friend is great for chatting and having a chance to have a look around the show and chat to other artists, though!

I’m not sure carrier bags are necessary. They’re a pretty substantial extra expense you can skip.

Check all your stock as soon as it arrives in the mail. I had an order of cello bags for A4 prints where about 50% of the pack were unusable as the bottom seal with just... open.

Oh! And the “Sundays are always quieter” rhetoric? My Sunday was twice as good as Saturday, despite being quieter on the show floor.

Overall...

I really enjoyed myself. I loved everything. Chatting to customers, chatting to artists, seeing what people were selling, people watching, eating junk, setting up, tearing down and having a friend to chat with and chill the whole time. I gained a pretty significant Twitter follower boost over the weekend and gave away approximately 150-200 business cards as well as meeting some awesome new friends.

I’m not sure if I will be back for the same show next year - we’ll see. I’d like to try a bunch of different shows with different audiences. Many overlap in terms of being around the same time of year. And all the while I’m carrying limited stock to see what works and what doesn’t, I’m reluctant to book two close together.

I’m lucky enough to live in London - so I have access to several big conventions throughout the year on my doorstep.

I have a table at Hyper Japan in July. A very different con to this one with a table almost half as big. So I suspect most of what I’ve learnt won’t even apply! But that’s kind of exciting. My logical brain tells me not to make more stuff, but I think I’ve got the con bug now and just wanna make more profits!

I hope this has been slightly useful to anyone toying with the idea of doing a convention. I recommend checking out @howtobeaconartist here on Tumblr as well as Ben Krefta’s incredibly detailed experiences of being a UK convention artist.

Another thing I found helpful was to watch youtube video walk-arounds from previous years at the same show - see what people are selling, their set-ups, get a feel for space, see if you see the same people returning year after year. Here’s a video from the show I’ve just done! Artist alley starts at around 7:50.

#artist alley #my art #saiyanhajime art #saiyanhajime #conventions #comic con #lccspring #london comic con

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mgares · 4 years ago

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HOW TO BUY A HOUSE - IN 3 EASY STEPS

There is a lot of confusion out there about how to become a Homeowner so I thought I would take a moment and put it into Average Joe speak. That, and in my experience, some people go about it totally backwards which is counter productive to the end goal.

STEP 1. - ASSESS YOUR FINANCES

This is fairly simple. Eliminate non-essentials from your spending budget and stick it in the piggy bank. Modify spending habits to generate savings. Make short-term lifestyle changes.

It's just temporary and if canceling monthly memberships (Netflix, Gyms, Any Subscriptions), adjusting your shopping habits [I got some great tips for this], or eliminating other non-essential spending allows you to keep more money in your pocket to get a home versus flushing rent dollars down the proverbial toilet? Bit of a no-brainer if you ask me.

Bottom line is you have to have money ready-to-hand for the transaction. Even with the "zero down" options like VA and some USDA loans; just to name a couple.

There are inspections, appraisals, escrow funds, repairs, home warranty policies, property taxes, closing costs, and other such considerations that must be paid in order to get a home of your own.

"Do Not Save What Is Left After Spending; Instead Spend What is Left After Saving" - Warren Buffett

Figure out what kind of a down payment your financial situation will allow for. The more, the better, but very few people I know got 20% of the purchase price [a.k.a. - conventional/bank loan] sitting around collecting dust. Good news is you don't necessarily have to have that much.

One of the most common loans is a FHA that only asks for 3-5% down AND there are down payment assistance programs out there if you are really Stuck Like Chuck when it comes to finances. NOTE: This does NOT mean they are going to give you ALL of your down payment; you gotta have some chips in that poker game too.

I like to recommend that people shoot for at least 6-8% of the purchase price of the "kind of home they want" just to make sure all the bases are covered - down payment AND cost(s) of the transaction. Folks, that's a lesser down payment than Owner Finance options for the same "kind of home" as Owners generally ask for 10-15% down.

This total can be a combination of self-savings, down payment assistance, assets that can be used as collateral against the loan, monetary or tangible gifts from friends/family members in some few cases, and more.

Each person is unique and different in how that 6-8% manifests and lenders can vary in what form(s) of down payment they will accept.

EXAMPLE:

Purchase Price: $150k

FHA Down Pymt (3-5%): $4,500 - $7,500

Other Cost(s): (3% +/-): $4,500

Total Savings Needed: $9,000 - $12,000

Kill some bills, sell your "junk" - we all got crap laying around the house we don't use worth money in various amounts - and modify spending habits in a positive manner.

If you are a two car family... can you get by with just one vehicle on a temporary basis [turn that car, and its bills, "into" a house]? Perhaps you have a skill set or piece of equipment that can earn you extra cash here and there on your terms? What changes to your lifestyle can you make that will put another dime or dollar into that kitty bucket?

Finally, do whatever it is you need to do to put those greenbacks into a savings method you can stick with. Whether that is a traditional banking institution or an old shoe box under the bed; you do you. If this means you have to ask someone in a position of trust to hold it so you don't spend it? Guess what you should consider doing?

STEP 2. - TALK TO LENDERS

Let's talk about the "When" of contacting a lender. The only true answer to "When" is... When You Are Ready and only you know how Ready you feel.

I've had clients express the sheer dread they felt about reaching out to a lender and it's an understandable fear. One of my people even said that they felt applying to lenders and having them see their credit condition was akin to stripping naked in front of a total stranger.

But, and as I told my client... think of it like going to the doctor for a full physical exam. Hospital gown over your birthday suit and all. Lenders are professionals there to do a job. They do NOT judge or speculate just because they have intimate knowledge of or about you.

If you suspect you may have some homework to do, credit wise, then it's better to contact a lender sooner rather than later. This allows you to get a game plan together and knock out credit related targets while you are saving funds for your down payment goal. Once completed, you are able to resume your application with confidence moving forward.

"Everything You Want Is On The Other Side of Fear" - Jack Canefield

However, if you are one of the few who feel their credit profile will be a "non-issue" then my suggestion becomes waiting to speak to lenders until you have most, if not all, of your down payment goal met.

When applying to a lender always ask if they perform a Soft or Hard inquiry against your credit report. Most of the lenders I know [and I will list two of my favorites for you here in a second] will execute a Soft Credit Inquiry to determine credit worthiness. This Soft Inquiry does not impact or affect your credit score - should such be a matter of concern to you.

Something else I've noticed is that people don't seem to understand shopping for lender is very much like shopping for an automobile. The overall requirements of any one particular lender (or dealership) can be totally different from a fellow lender's (or dealership's).

Just because one says "No" does not mean they will all will say "No". And even if the first lender tells you "Yes"... I would still encourage you to apply to more than one who does Soft Inquiries. Compare apples to oranges to find the best fit for your home purchasing needs by reviewing interest rates, terms of repayment, mutual rights and remedies, and so on and so forth.

Only after you have secured lender approval (which may be conditional based on various factors) and they have given you the green light to shop up to the amount of $X.00 do you move on to Step 3.

STEP 3 - FIND YOUR REALTOR

The vast majority of the population feels the path to homeownership is "finding the home and then buying it" - through a Real Estate agent. This is NOT the case.

Selecting an agent to help navigate you through the complexities of The Offer and Purchase process is the absolute LAST step to be taken.

What Happens When You Do It Backwards:

You shop for, and find, that PERFECT place and then reach out to an an agent or contact the website that is listing that property. The agent involved determines you haven't spoken with a lender and may now recommend one to get the process started.

Just to let you know... most of us agents are unable to do much of anything at this point without your having secured a lender first. There are some agents out there who are also qualified mortgage consultants but I, personally, haven't met one yet so I don't know how they work.

At this point the agent may also put you on an e-mailer list that scouts the MLS's and regularly sends you properties "matching" the ideal home that you originally asked about.

Why?

Because "that home may not still be there when you are in a position to buy". That's agent speak for... this is gonna take a bit of second and that property will most likely have sold by the time we get you lender approved.

I can't emphasize enough the fact that we agents don't "GET" you that house - the lender does that by providing the loan to pay for it. Us agents help you shop for a home and protect your best interests when buying it.

We deal with the butt-ton of technical paperwork coming/going from every which-a-way at all hours of the day, manage the contract negotiations, handle scheduling and execution of services by professional providers involved in the transaction, are your personal defacto counselor/moral support during the stress mess of buying, and more. None of which can be done until a lender gives us the green light to begin.

Well, most folks aren't mentally or emotionally prepared to reach out to said lender on the fly like this. Fears of "what that lender will see" or personal misgivings about "not qualifying" due to credit condition can halt the whole process at this point. Perhaps leaving you with negative emotions about the whole experience thus far.

But, for the sake of argument let's say you muster up the courage to reach out to a lender anyway. You'll discover that they are people too - most with a generous heart and helpful personality.

You might even discover that your credit was nowhere near as bad as you had built it up in your mind to be. Or, the lender may come back with a little homework for you. Take care of This and That and we'll be able to get you into a home.

The "whammy" of doing it in reverse order like this is that the lender will also share that you will need X thousands of dollars as a down payment to make that happen. Talk about a case of sticker shock!

Obviously, this can be discouraging and disheartening. To overcome one obstacle only run smack dab into another you weren't prepared to tackle? It may start to feel like you are looking up the side of a mountain, the goal of owning a home clearly in your line of sight, but you lack the climbing equipment (not to mention the funds to acquire such) to reach the summit.

It may feel like "that's it, game over" at this point. I know because I, too, approached home ownership azz-backwards like this before I became a Realtor. Felt like someone had ripped a bit of my soul away and left me frustrated and crying inside my heart and mind.

DON'T give up on yourself or your dream of home ownership. Back up, regroup, and attack that goal again. This time, in the correct sequence of events.

"You May Have To Fight A Battle More Than Once To Win It" - Margaret Thatcher

Do this and I promise you that there will be no better feeling in the world than those you experience at the closing table when you are finally handed the keys to your very own home.

Disclaimer: Opinion Editorial for educational and/or informational purposes. Content presented is deemed accurate and/or reliable at the time of authorship. Any errors or omissions present in material(s) are unintentional. You are encouraged to execute your own research.

#MGARES #VirtualPropertyRealty.com #homegoals #househunting #homebuying #realestate #realestateagent

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timeagainreviews · 5 years ago

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The Great Con-Junction

For a place like the world-famous Elstree Studios in London, history is made on the regular. Movies like "Who Framed Roger Rabbit," "Hot Fuzz," and even "Star Wars" have all been captured to celluloid moving at twenty-four frames per second. However, it was a lesser-known, though no less ambitious film that had eager fans lining up around the block on a mild February morning nearly forty years later. The film I speak of is none other than Jim Henson's 1982 cult-classic "The Dark Crystal." Myself and at least 200 other attendees were gathered for the first official Dark Crystal convention, celebrating both the film and the Netflix series. Taking place at the very studio where the movie was filmed, Thames Con's "The Great Con-Junction," was also the biggest reunion of the original cast and crew since the film's release. Once again, history was being made at Elstree Studios.

Upon learning of the convention I was filled with both desire and regret. Desire to go, and regret that I most likely wouldn’t be able. I live in Glasgow which is 6.5 hours away from London by car, and I don’t drive. On top of that, I hadn’t any money saved for such an occasion. But through the generosity of several friends, my mother, and my boyfriend willing to drive me there, the impossible was suddenly very tangible. With only twenty days until the convention, I was one of the lucky few able to attend this momentous affair.

It may seem odd that such a niche convention could draw someone from as far away as Glasgow, and in some cases the US and Australia. But if you’ve ever been to a Star Trek or My Little Pony convention, you may have some idea as to the sort of passion we’re dealing with. For many, Dark Crystal isn’t merely a great creative property, it’s life-changing. As a child, Jim Henson’s work left an indelible mark upon my soul. Projects like "Fraggle Rock," "Storyteller," and "The Flintstones," inspired creativity in me and filled me with the desire to one day work for the Jim Henson Company. Sadly, years of adulting did their best to dull that flame to a mere ember. However, after last year’s premiere of "The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance," that ember grew into a roiling fire.

For the past month, I’ve been a ball of excited energy leading up to the convention. I’ve immersed myself in all things Jim Henson. Whether it be rewatching the Netflix series for the umpteenth time, revisiting Labyrinth, or reading JM Lee’s YA Dark Crystal novels, it’s been all I could do not to crack up. In the final week leading up to the event, I directed this nervous excitement into creating a cosplay as the Crystal of Truth, wrapped in black chains and metal claws. When the day finally arrived and I found myself waiting in line with other excited fans decked out in purple, or cosplaying as Deet or Rian, I knew I was with my people. The air was abuzz with excitement as we were slowly ushered into the building.

The event hall at Elstree was decorated with posters of scenes from the movie along with mood lighting. Part of the ticket cost afforded each attendee a beautiful signed print by Brian Froud. A bar at the entrance was selling official Dark Crystal merch including the ThinkGeek Fizzgig puppet only available in the states. Right away I had blown most of my budget, but my new furry friend would agree I made the right choice! I’d been there not two minutes, and already my arms were full of swag. I took this opportunity to get my Fizzgig and a book signed by both Brian and Wendy Froud, who were very generously autographing people’s items for free.

Usually, conventions leave a bad taste in my mouth as they seem like supremely capitalist ventures. And while there were plenty of things to buy, the Frouds’ generosity set the real tone of the event. Not only were they generous with their autographs, but they were also incredibly generous with their time. It seemed as though every person that talked to them was given an opportunity to gush and share their personal stories. As I told them both how much their work meant to me, they were treating it as though it were the first time they had heard it that day. Brian even took the time to doodle a little Fizzgig and Skeksis for me alongside his whimsical signature. The impression they left me with is that they were both very genuine and down to earth people, and meeting them is something I will carry with me for the rest of my life.

One of the things Mr Froud shared with me was that in his experience, people’s reaction to the Dark Crystal is usually always something creative. People go off and make fan art, cosplays, puppets, or even their own artistic endeavours. You could see proof of this all around the room that day. I met a brilliant artist from Seattle named Nori (@noriretherford), who in exchange for doodles from attendees was giving beautiful prints of her fan art. I drew my best skekTek from memory and have the cutest depiction of Seladon, Tavra, and Brea playing as children to show for it. There were cosplays with humbling levels of detail and even the occasional puppets of people’s original characters. All around you, creativity was swirling, and people were passionately sharing their enthusiasm with one another.

These initial couple of hours were dedicated to meet and greets with the cast, crew, and fellow attendees. Everyone seemed just as interested to listen as they were to share. One attendee remarked to me how she had never before felt more encouraged to speak to strangers than she had at the convention. Even my boyfriend, who is generally shy, was coming out of his shell and joining in the conversations. I was also pleased that the convention was managed well enough that I didn’t spend my entire day waiting in line to meet someone while he was relegated to watching my things. I was actually able to share this experience with him as opposed to relaying it through dreamfasting later. This made meeting the guests less of a thing to check off a list, and more of an experience.

My only real qualm with the structure of the convention was the Skeksis tea which was offered as part of the ticket price. Since I was unaware that the guests would be available all day, I was a bit late to lunch meaning the banquet was completely picked over by the time we had gotten there. No amount of cute creative table displays or impressively crafted Nebrie cake could obscure the fact that we were forced to find our lunch at the McDonalds across the road. Furthermore, I was unaware that the lunch was buffet style, which meant that if someone wanted to be as gluttonous as skekAyuk, it would leave the rest of us hungry. We were not alone in this, as several others were left to look upon the empty tables with dismay. That being said, for a first-time convention, it’s impressive that so little went awry.

For me, the biggest highlight of the day was getting to actually see the Gelfling puppets along with their respective puppeteers. Both Beccy Henderson and Neil Sterenberg had Deet and Rian with them. I’m not ashamed to admit that I hugged Deet. Being able to see the detail of the puppets and feel the various textures employed by the brilliant fabricators at the Jim Henson Creature Workshop was mindblowing. Not to mention that both Beccy and Neil were just as generous with their time as the Frouds. Though I would have to say the most exciting puppet I met that day has to go to Hup, as Victor Yerrid was actually puppeteering him and speaking directly to attendees in Podling. Hearing Hup say my name and talk to me was overwhelmingly exciting! That man is a brilliant puppeteer.

Throughout the day there were also several panels with guests from both the TV show and the movie. It was fascinating to listen to each of them tell their stories. Whether it be anecdotes about Jim Henson or tales about trying to navigate hot costumes under studio lights, it was a treasure trove of information. Listening to these stories was a constant reminder of the sheer amount of history present in the room. Each one of these guests had their own incredible careers, and here they all were, ready to share their fantastic stories. Yet despite this being an intimate gathering of a small group of creatives reuniting after 38+ years, it never once felt like it was all about them. You didn’t feel like an interloper or an evesdropper. We were all part of this wonderful experience together.

It was puppeteer Louise Gold’s remarks to the crowd about this that really put into words what we were all thinking. Through stifled tears, she remarked that she had initially come to see all of her old friends, but had found herself equally enriched by meeting the fans. Seeing all of us come together and sharing our stories was as inspiring to her as it was for us. Hearing her impassioned words moved quite a few of us to tears, myself included. She was easily one of my favourite people I met yesterday, and not just because she was so wonderfully extra. Her words spoke the same truth as Brian Froud's- what has resulted from this fandom is something creative. The Dark Crystal hasn’t simply entertained, it has changed lives.

Of course, like any good convention, it wasn’t just the guests in the spotlight. The cosplay contest allowed for an opportunity for the fans to strut their stuff. Much like the ticket giveaway the organisers had done, they couldn’t decide on just one winner. There was so much goodwill and positivity flowing that honourable mentions were given prizes as well, and with good reason. There were so many incredible costumes that I doubt I could have picked the best of the lot. There were Gelflings, Skeksis, a Hup, and even an urRu! My favourite of the lot was a mother-daughter duo who went as Brea and Kira respectively. But that may just have to do with the fact that I’m a big Brea fan and her costume was incredible!

Were I to think of any one word to explain how I feel about being able to attend this convention it would be grateful. I left feeling rejuvinated. My boyfriend even commented that I was “glowing.” I wish everyone in the fandom could have the same experience. I’ve seen so many passionate fans online in the last day wishing they could have gone, and I very easily could have been one of them. It’s proof to me that this fandom has more to it than just a few people toiling away in their basements. There is a real desire for these types of events. It’s not hard to imagine people declaring their Gelfling clan like Harry Potter fans might declare themselves Hufflepuffs or Ravenclaws. (I’m totally a Vapran.) If you look online, you can see people’s OCs of both Gelfling and Skeksis. Even I’ve considered putting together my own Gelfling Gathering here in Glasgow. I’m hopeful that this is a sign of things to come, and that we won’t have to wait a thousand trine for the next Great Con-Junction.

#the great con-junction #the great conjunction #the dark crystal #thamescon #london #brian froud #wendy froud #louise gold #beccy henderson #neil sterenberg #victor yerrid #skeksis #gelfling #hup #poddling #the dark crytsal: age of resistance #fizzgig #elstree studios

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animeniacss · 4 years ago

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A Palette of Emotions - Artist!Taehyung x Teacher!Reader - Chapter 4 - The Interview

Synopsis: Taehyung dreams of being a professional and famous artist one day, but finds that the sea of creativity can be lurking with blood hungry sharks, as well as bland, motionless starfish. Swimming through the sea of opportunities somehow washed him up onto the shore of Bright Star Preschool, as an art teacher. This wasn’t where he expected to be 4 years into his career, but anything to get his big break though, right?

Feat. BTS, TXT, ITZY, Jisoo (BlackPink), Taeyong (NCT)

Genre: Romance, Slow Burn, Love Triangle, Drama, School Setting, Working!AU

Length: approx. 5.1k words

Chapter 4 - The Interview

“Mr. Kim.” You began, leaning forward with your elbows on the table. Your boss only hummed as he dabbed his lips with a napkin. “In regards to this new art teacher-.” Just as soon as those words left your mouth, Seokjin looked up at you, cradling his half-filled wine glass just as he finished taking a sip. “What kind of person are you looking for?”

“Why?” he asked, setting his glass down. “Do you have any suggestions?” You watched Seokjin lift his utensils, cutting into the expensive steaks that he had ordered for the both of you. Finally, Seokjin had gotten you out to that dinner that he so annoyingly pestered you into. Seokjin was sure to take you to the fanciest restaurant in the area, the ambiance of the building holding a regal and important aura around those who sat idly chatting in beautifully upholstered booths. It was much more expensive than what your preschool teacher salary got you for dinner on a regular day.

“Well, I just want someone who flows well with what I already have established.” You said simply. “What if you hire someone that undoes everything I’ve instilled in the kids?” A small smile formed on Seokjin’s face as he set his utensils back down on their napkin.

“What, pray tell, have you instilled in them?” You frowned, leaning back in your seat.

“The kids are calm and relaxed, they know the rules, they know what I expect of them and how to behave. If you hire someone with different ideas of how the kids should behave, won’t they get confused?”

“Not if you taught them well,” Seokjin said simply. “You act like I’m going to hire some psychopath with no morals.”

“You would if you thought that he was cute.” You teased, and Seokjin laughed. “My idea is that if I have to have another coworker, I want them to flow well in school.”

“That’s why I’m including you in the interviews.” He said simply. “Because I know how seriously you take your job.” Seokjin saw you look down at your food, and he pointed to it. “I paid a lot for that, so you better eat and enjoy before it gets cold.” Glancing up at your boss, you smiled a bit, lifting your utensils as you finally cut into your steak and took a bite. Seokjin watched your eyes lit up as the tenderized meat entered your mouth. “See, told you.” He said happily. As you both continued to eat, Seokjin continued trying to ease your nerves over wine. You had to admit, it was kind of working. “I have a few people already lined up for interviews next week, scheduled once the school day comes to a close.”

“Alright.” You said. As both of you finished up your meals, Seokjin lifted his wine glass.

“You still don’t look too convinced about it all.” He teased, grinning playfully. You smiled, lifting your wine glass as well.

“Maybe some dessert will help change my mind.” You teased. Seokjin’s grin widened, emanating into a fit of little giggles.

“Wow, you’re a monster.” He said, and a grin formed on your face. You both clinked your glasses as Seokjin leaned back in his seat just slightly, turning his head to wave over the waiter and ask for some dessert menus. As the waiter left the table, Seokjin turned back to you, watching as you set your wine glass back onto the table, offering Seokjin one more smile. Despite still being hesitant about this whole event, you knew you had to at least be professional.

Hopefully, the new art teacher would share that view.

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Taehyung had sent over all of the information to Seokjin after his phone call, and before he knew it, the interview was scheduled for that upcoming Tuesday, when the school day was over. The weekend went by pretty smoothly, spending lots of time sketching out ideas, even getting some well-needed break time by taking a night trip to Itaewon with Jimin and some of their old high school friends for some drinks. Monday was pretty calm as well, Taehyung spending most of it unconscious on his couch because he was up until 4 a. m. trying to transfer a new sketch onto a canvas. It was a pretty solid weekend.

Then Tuesday hit, and nerves washed over Taehyung like a tsunami wave, swallowing him up under its merciless grasp. Taehyung knew how to handle his nerves, having to sell his art to whoever would even glance in his direction as he stood in the heat of small art convention, or graced the marble halls of a beautiful art exhibit. Those were some high-stakes moments that rattled his body was nervous balls of anxious paranoia, and that was being generous. However, for some reason, the idea that he was getting ready for an interview about an art teaching position where half of the kids barely know how to write their names, was even more terrifying.

“Is it normal that I’m more nervous about this?” Taehyung called to Jimin through the other side of the bathroom door. He had just gotten out of the shower, and Jimin was helping him prepare before he had to hop in his car and head to work.

“I think all interviews are nerve-wracking, Taehyung,” Jimin assured. “But you’ll be fine, just show them your art and be honest about yourself. That’s all you can do.” He could hear Taehyung snort.

“Yeah sure. What am I supposed to say when they ask why I want the job? ‘I need money to fuel my hamburger and boxed noodle addiction?’”

“…Yes, exactly.” Jimin teased, and Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Hurry up and come out here, I want to see what you’re wearing.”

“What are you, my girlfriend?” Taehyung scoffed. “I picked the outfit out last night.”

“Then put it on and come out here,” Jimin said, resting his back against the wall beside the bathroom door. He heard a deep groan of annoyance come from the bathroom. Only moments later, did he see Taehyung step out in what he picked last night. Not only was Taehyung’s hair still wet and messy from the shower, but he was wearing a pair of dirty, old jeans and a tee-shirt that had a myriad of colored paint on it, faded from the endless attempts to wash it out. Jimin blinked, staring at him in awe. “…Tae.”

“What?” He asked.

“You’re not going to wear that, right?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“For starter, I think you have more paint on that shirt than you do in your paint drawer.”

“It won’t wash out all the way,” Taehyung said.

“I know you have nicer clothes than this. Don’t you want to make a good first impression?” Jimin crossed his arms.

“I thought it made me look casual and relatively artsy.” Jimin pinched the bridge of his nose, the sigh of disappointment that he exhaled out of his mouth setting on Taehyung’s already heavy shoulder, adding even more weight and nerve onto it. “Jimin, I’m nervous, okay? This is my first real interview in forever. I picked this outfit out when I was half asleep at 4 a.m. last night, what do you want from me?”

“Come with me.” Jimin took Taehyung by the hand and led him into his room. Taehyung put his hands in his pockets, watching Jimin fling open the closet and scan the row of clothing. Shifting some of the outfits around, he examined the selection with a critical eye. “I love you to death, Taehyung, but sometimes, you worry me.”

“Thanks,” Taehyung grumbled. He watched as Jimin finally pulled out an outfit. A forest green button-up shirt, with some beige pants. Jimin carefully laid the clothes across Taehyung’s arms, which he quickly outstretched to accept the selection.

“Here. This is casual, yet still screams artsy. Wear that matching coat I got you for Christmas, maybe one of the millions of berets you have, and you’ll be just fine. And please, for God’s sake, throw out of the messy paint shirt.”

“Thanks…” Taehyung said, a bit more sincerity in his voice. Jimin smiled, patting his friend on the shoulder.

“Call me when it’s over, okay? I’m going to be late if I don’t go now.” Taehyung nodded, watching as Jimin exited the room at a quick pace. “Bye! You’ll do great. Fighting!” Jimin’s tiny little thumbs poked up from his fists, and he grinned a grin that made Taehyung chuckled a bit, before hurrying out of the apartment. Once Taehyung was alone, he glanced down at the clothes that were sitting in his hands. After a moment of just staring at them, as if somehow, they would magically jump onto him, he set them on his bedside and tugged his shirt off to change.

Taehyung had time before the school day came to a close. He lived only a short bus ride and few blocks walk away, so he was in no rush to get there. After changing into Jimin’s preferred outfit, Taehyung took the time to stare at himself in the full-sized mirror hanging next to his bed. The green top was a nice pop of color to the otherwise simple beige pants and coat. He took Jimin’s advice and used a beret because he loved them so much. He also found a pair of glasses on his nightstand, a round black pair that he slipped on. He turned his body side to side, hands stuffed in his pockets. Each swivel of his body allowed the coat to float up just a bit, and he got a good look at himself from more than one angle. This would do, much better than jeans and a messy tee-shirt. God, Jimin was just so good at this stuff, it was no wonder he got a degree in marketing. Quickly, Taehyung grabbed his phone and snapped a picture of him in his artistic outside, a selfie angled so that his face was exposed sure, but it was the outfit that he wanted to show off more. When he was satisfied with a picture, it was uploaded onto his Instagram with the caption: Got a lot of things going on today. Wish me luck. ^.^

Taehyung’s eyes wandered to his digital clock that sat on his bed. It was still very early, and Taehyung had time to kill before he had to go. Sighing, he slid off his coat and set it aside, plopping himself down on the bed and hoping to get a few more minutes of shut-eye.

Maybe it was because he was so tired, but the next thing Taehyung knew, his alarm that he had purposely set an hour before he had to leave starting blaring in his room, startling the poor boy upright in his bed. His heart was pounding from the sudden noise and he looked around, his eyes finally resting on the cell phone that was screaming for him to wake up at his side. Taehyung let out a deep sigh, slowing his heartbeat down as he picked up the phone. As he checked the time, his eyes widened. It was 2:30.

“I slept for another 8 hours, huh? Fuck, I must have been so out of it.” Finally stopping his alarm, a deep yawn took his place among the room before Taehyung slid out of bed. Walking over to his mirror, he grabbed his coat and slid it back on. He had to fix his glasses and grab the beret that had fallen off his head as he slept like a rock on his bed. He had to look at himself once more in the mirror, and let out another breath of nerves. Pulling out his phone, he headed towards the door. He had to collect his keys and wallet and slipped on his shoes. He was ready to go, exiting his apartment and closing the door behind him. Taehyung fixed his glasses and headed towards the elevator that led him out of his apartment. At the bus stop, Taehyung took a seat and rested his head against the glass, pulling out his phone and taking a few moments to scroll through social media. The first thing he noticed was a blow-up of notifications he had gotten, most likely for his most recent picture. However, he simply opened his notifications so the big red number would go away. A quick skim of what was written was enough for him.

Oppa you’re so handsome yet again! Be a model, be a model!

Taehyungie-Oppa, you look so chic! <3

Good luck today, Oppa! Your looks are sure to bring you luck!

The last one made him chuckle, but that was all that he needed to see, instead of resorting to his main timeline, where a sea of pictures flooded his phone before his eyes. His friends were still posting pictures they had found after their drunken stupor over the weekend. One of them showed Jimin, Taehyung, and two of their high school friends, Lee Taeyong, and Kim Jisoo. As Taehyung scanned the pictures of the four friends holding up beers, laughing, and exchanging their plates of food for the others to try, he thought back to the night.

“You’re going to try for a job as a preschool teacher?” Jisoo asked curiously, resting her elbows on the table as she looked across the booth at her friend. Taehyung set down his empty drink and shrugged.

“Is it so weird?”

“No, not at all. I think it’s really sweet.” She grinned, tucking her long, black hair behind her ear as she sat back once again. “You just don’t strike me as a preschool teacher type, that’s all.”

“That’s what I said. But Jimin said it was a good idea to try.”

“And he’s right.” Taeyong nodded, wagging his finger. He was already slightly tipsy, and the wagging of the finger proved that. A sly grin formed on his face and he pointed to the soju in the middle of the table. Jimin reached for it and offered to pour his friend yet another glass. “Worst case is you mess up the interview and come out still unemployed.”

“Way to bring up his confidence.” Jisoo glanced at her friend, shaking her head as he offered a dopey and slightly drunk grin. “What’s your experience with kids?”

“Not much,” Taehyung said, finishing off his drink. “But whatever, I guess a change of scenery can help inspire some new art pieces.”

“That’s the spirit.” Jimin and Taeyong said in unison, and Taehyung rolled his eyes, taking hold of the soju and pouring himself yet another cup.

“Well good luck. You’ll need it if you’re working with twenty kids. But I’m sure you’ll go great!” Jisoo said. Taehyung nodded, the duo clinking their glances in solidarity before throwing their drinks back.

Taehyung was quick to like all of the memories they shared days ago, then decided to pull up his profile. He had uploaded a single picture from that night, to which he received tons of comments about not only his appearance but the appearances of his friends. Just as he was about to put his phone away, the bus pulled up and Taehyung got out of his seat, strolling onto the bus and plopping down in the seat closest to the front as he could, resting his head against the window. As the bus began to pull away from the stop, Taehyung thought back to the good luck that Jisoo had given him in their drunken adventures, as well as the good luck comments that poked their way through in his social media.

Hopefully, my good looks will help me be lucky today. Taehyung thought to himself, an amused smile gracing his face as he waved the notion away.

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The kids were getting all packed up for the day, hastily packing their belongings in the hope that if they did it quick enough, they would have more time to play on the playground before their parents came to pick them up. Hoseok was helping the kids prepare, and you were too, but your mind was on something else entirely. Yesterday was the first round of interviews, and after school, three lovely young women came in looking for the job. They chatted with you and Seokjin, show off their work, and one of them even had prior experience teaching children art. It was…less painful than you thought, but Seokjin had at least three more people expected to come by today, and you were just hoping that lack of pain would flow through the rest of the week. Just as you were trying to distance yourself from yet another headache, you saw Yeonjun, who was hastily stuffing his freshly dried artwork into his backpack. Walking over, you knelt and took hold of it.

“Be careful, we don’t want to crumple it up now do we?” You asked. Yeonjun shrugged.

“I don’t want it anyways. I’m just showing my mom.” You blinked, looking down at the cute little rainbow with cotton ball raindrops that you had the kids create yesterday. This was a project that you had thought the kids would like, since it wasn’t just construction paper and glue, deciding that the addition of cotton balls for clouds and rain would be an extra touch the kids might like. Based on Yeonjun’s treatment of the craft is similar to all the others recently, it didn’t seem to be the case.

“I’m sure your mom doesn’t want to see it crumpled though, okay?” Yeonjun nodded, watching as you gently put it in his bag and zipped it up. “Now sit tight before we go outside.” The little boy nodded, slipping on his blue bag and plopping himself down in his seat, kicking his legs in eager anticipation. You got up, stretching your arms as you headed towards the front of the class again. You saw the students sit around their tables as they talked to their friends, excited to finish their school day. “Alright class, let’s head outside and wait for our parents, okay?” A collective cheer from the children roared throughout the room as the kids hopped up, hurrying towards Hoseok, who was standing by the door and gathering them into a single-file line. You began collecting your belongings at your desk, looking up at Hoseok as a grin on his face.

“Alllllright!” Hoseok cheered. “Ready everyone?!” The kids cheered. “Alright little soldiers, let’s march!” The kids began to giggle as they followed behind their teacher, his exaggerated marching movements being mimicked as best as they could by the little ones. You watched him lead them out, little feet stomping and shuffling out of the room in glee. A chuckle escaped your lips. Just as Hoseok finished leading the kids away, Seokjin came in with a stack of papers in his hand, waving them to get your attention.

“Ready?” he asked. “The first interviewee will be here soon, so get that smile on!”

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The sound of children screaming in the distance was heard. Taehyung looked up at the one-story building, the South Korean flag flying proudly on the top of the building. He could see a playground in front of the building, where children were running around in absolute glee. Some were jumping on the monkey bars, while others sat in the sandbox and played, and a group of small boys chased each other around, arms outstretched in the hopes of catching the other. Taehyung walked along the fence, fixing his glasses. As he got closer to the entrance, he saw a man most likely around his age, standing beside the monkey bars. He was watching the kids who were climbing onto it, holding his hands out to provide the kids with a safety net in case they were curious but scared. As his eyes continued to scan, Taehyung saw two other individuals standing at the door of the building. He saw them shifting through papers for a moment, the female looking up and looking around at the kids in her care. He noticed her eyes lay on him, and he shifted nervously as he stood by the front fence of the building.

“Mr. Kim, he’s here.” You said, nudging Seokjin. He glanced up from the papers in his hands and saw Taehyung waiting patiently with his hands in his pockets.

“Ah, earlier than I thought. I like that.” Seokjin glanced at you, smiling before making his way down the dirt path and to the fence. He saw Taehyung looking at his surrounding kids on the playground. Kids who were hurrying past him stopped in their tracks, curious as to the man. Was he a parent? A baby sitter? They weren’t sure, but he looked kind of cool. “Kim Taehyung?”

“Ah uh, yes…” He said, his eyes focused almost immediately back on the man before him. “Hello.” Seokjin stuck his hand out to Taehyung quickly.

“Nice to meet you. I’m the principal here, Kim Seokjin.” He saw Taehyung’s eyes looking around curiously, and he smiled. “I didn’t think you would be so early, the kids normally start leaving within a few minutes, so we tried to schedule a time that wouldn’t overlap with the kids leaving.”

“Oh, do you want me to come back?” Taehyung asked. “I didn’t realize how close of a walk it was from the bus stop.” Seokjin smiled.

“No problem. Let’s get this done. Follow me.” He led Seokjin towards the building, where he saw you kneeling beside a little girl with her hair tugged into a set of tight braids. Seokjin called your name, and you looked up, gently sending the girl off before smoothing out your skirt. “This is Kim Taehyung. This is our head teacher-.” Kim Taehyung offered a polite nod as Seokjin said your name. As he got a good look at you, his mind immediately flashed back to Instagram only a few days prior. A bright smile stretched between paint splatters; hair unapologetically messy, kids with emoji covered faces surrounding her, and a picture that held simple yet powerful memories of the previous school year. Now, you stood with your hair slicked back into a tight ponytail, a smooth skirt, and he could tell just by looking at you that you hadn’t had paint on your cheeks in forever.

She worked here?!

Seokjin must have noticed Kim Taehyung went tense for a moment, and patted his shoulder, making the boy look over. “Shall we?” He glanced Hoseok, who waved a hand, signaling that he had the kids. The sound of him calling the kids together to the middle of the playground was heard as Seokjin led both of you inside the building and into his office. He had set a chair beside his own for you to sit on, and another across the desk for the interviewee. Kim Taehyung looked around as he watched you and Seokjin sit down, Seokjin pulling out the paperwork Taehyung had sent over the email. “Hm, alright.” Kim Taehyung shifted nervously in his seat. “You know Park Jimin and Kim Namjoon, right?”

“Oh uh, well not Kim Namjoon, but Park Jimin is a friend from school.” Seokjin nodded. Despite how nervous he was, Seokjin’s cool demeanor helped keep him calm.

“He did a great job on our posters.” Seokjin pointed out, and Taehyung nodded in agreement. “So, tell me, what made you want this job anyway?” Right off the bat, the question he joked about but feared answering.

“Well…” he sighed. “At first, I just wanted it because I don’t have a job right now other than a few social media sponsorships and occasionally selling some of my art.” Seokjin chuckled a bit, but you silently leaned back in your chair. “When I walked to the front and saw all of the kids playing around and having a good time, I thought it would be a nice change of scenery. Besides, I’ll show art to anyone willing to look.” He chuckled. “Even if it’s a few four-year-old.”

“I see.” Seokjin sighed. “Have you had any experience with kids?”

“Other than my cousins, not really,” Taehyung admitted. “And a few kids that I see during small, local art shows, but those interactions are pretty brief.” Seokjin nodded, scribbling something down on Taehyung’s paperwork. They barely started and he was already writing stuff down?! Oh jeez, this was not going to go well.

“So, what kind of stuff do you want to do with the kids? Our teacher right now likes construction paper projects.” You glared at Seokjin for a moment, only seeing his gentle grin remain on his face.

“Hmmm, well that sounds nice. I always think art can be done with more than just cutting and gluing. Paintings, sculptures, things that they can get a bit messy with. That usually makes the best art, in my opinion. Plus, I’m sure they would love it.”

“How will you keep it from getting out of hand?” You asked quickly, and Taehyung blinked. “With the paint and the sculptures. This is almost 20 four-year-old’s we’re talking about. What do you have planned to keep them focused and not make to much of a mess?” Taehyung was silent for a moment, causing you to lean forward, folding your arms.

“Well, isn’t that what you’ve been doing all school year?” he asked. You blinked, and Seokjin had to muster all his strength to keep his jaw from collapsing off his face. “If you did your job and taught them basic respect towards adults, then I’ll be sure to work hard and keep them on that track.” He nodded, offering a kind smile despite the shade he just smacked you in the face with. You felt your blood boiling, and you let out a slow exhale, nodding. You saw a boxy smile on Taehyung’s face as if he had just complimented you and was proud of it. Without another word, you leaned back in your seat. It only took a few moments for Taehyung to see the anger behind your eyes, and slowly, his boxy smile faded away, and he rubbed his legs a bit. Immediately, his eyes went back to Seokjin, who was struggling to keep a straight face.

“Okay…” Seokjin choked out, grinning. “Uhm, you said you’re an artist, right?”

“Y-yes.” He said.

“Can I see some of your work?” Taehyung nodded, pulling out his phone.

“I didn’t bring anything physical, but I post everything on social media, from sketches to the final product.” He pulled up his account and handed his phone to Seokjin. He watched you lean towards your boss, the both of you skimming through his profile. Immediately, your eyes shot up to Taehyung, and he jumped a bit at the sudden movement.

“I knew you looked familiar.” You mumbled.

“You know him too?” Seokjin asked curiously. “Why am I the only one who had to wait until now to meet him, he’s so handsome.” Taehyung offered a shy chuckle, his cheeks tinting a bit pink.

“I’ve never met him before, Mr. Kim. I followed him on Instagram like a year ago. I saw his face on my timeline all the time but I never looked long enough to look at the handle if it was his face. Just his art…” Taehyung blinked, watching as you took the phone from Seokjin and continued to skim. “His work is pretty good but too abstract for preschoolers.”

“I don’t intend to teach abstract painting to kids,” Taehyung said in an almost deadpan method. You didn’t respond, simply passing him back his phone. When he took it, he slid it into his pocket.

“You’re talented, it’s amazing you said you’re struggling,” Seokjin said. “Don’t you agree?” He looked directly at you, and you glanced back at him. You sighed softly, nodding.

“He’s very talented, but that’s not what I’m worried about. I’m worried about the kids and what they’ll be getting.”

“I already told you. I have cousins that are all under 13, and I’m always doing fun finger painting and sculpting, but mostly painting on canvases and they like it.” Seokjin smiled, leaning back.

“Taehyung, are you willing to cooperate with this little angel beside me so that we have an easy rest of the school year? In reality, we want the same thing, and that’s for the kids to have a good time.” Taehyung nodded.

“Yessir.” He said. “I want the kids to have a good time.” Seokjin nodded. Suddenly, Seokjin clapped his hands together loudly, making the both of you jump.

“Excellent!” He said. “Well, Kim Taehyung, I have heard everything I need to hear from you.” He stood up, quickly extending a hand. Kim Taehyung followed suit, stretching his hand out and shaking it, as well as nodding his head politely.

“U-uh, thank you.” He said. It was that short? He thought to himself.

“You’ll be hearing from me soon, okay?” Seokjin assured.

“Right.” He turned to you as you stood up, sighing softly. You fixed your hair, extending a gentle hand in his direction. “Thank you.” He said.

“Thank you too.” You said gently, nodding your head. Kim Taehyung fixed his coat and sighed, nodding his head one last time before finally excusing himself and exiting the office. Once he was gone, you sank back down in your seat. “Thank God that was so short.”

“You didn’t like him?” Seokjin asked, writing some more things onto Kim Taehyung’s paper. You glared at him in annoyance.

“Did you hear what he said to me?! He had such a bad attitude!”

“Oh, he did not,” Seokjin said. “I liked his sass; it was kind of funny.”

“You’re kidding right?” you asked. “I liked that girl Yenwoo from yesterday. She was a bit sassy, but she was extremely polite, at least more so than he was.”

“Yeah, but Taehyung was pretty attractive,” Seokjin said. “I don’t know, there was something I just really liked about him.”

“He’s an Instagram model, he’s probably superficial.”

“I didn’t get that vibe.” You rolled your eyes. As Seokjin finished scribbling something down, he got up from his seat. “Let’s go check on Hoseok before the next person gets here, hm?”

“Fine.” You groaned, getting up from your seat. You lifted your bag from the floor and watched as Seokjin headed out the door. Turning your head, you glanced at Taehyung’s paperwork that sat on his desk among all of the other files. You were curious about what Seokjin had been writing down.

Very handsome.

Hands-on methods.

In the running for hire. Very interesting.

Return to Masterlist

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crimson-chains · 5 years ago

Note

Hi again! So I’m considering applying for NDK’s artist alley and selling different sized prints. Since you have experience with conventions, can you give me some advice or recommendations for places that you get your prints from? I’m thinking about a half table since I’m new and a kinda small budget to work with. I’ve been trying to do some research for pricing and such before I apply, but the results aren’t very specific in this aspect.

Ooooh, very exciting!!!! OWO I love NDk, it is a very good con!

I actually get my prints from a local printer, since you’re in the Colorado area of you’re close to Lafayette I highly recommend Morrell Printing Solutions!

The other place I get prints from is CatPrint and they are located online. They are the service which does holo paper as well as foil prints ^^

The original way I found my printer was that I googled printing services around me, and then drove to each one with a file of my art, had them print it out, quote me on a price, and then decided based on that!

NDK does not offer half tables, but, if you’re going in with a friend or someone else who you will split the booth with that sounds like an awesome idea! The first and only time I got to booth at NDK I actually shared the table with 2 other people :D

#asks

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theonyxpath · 5 years ago

Link

This week we’re releasing the core rulebook for Dystopia Rising: Evolution into both stores (the traditionally printed version) and on DriveThruRPG with the PDF and physical book PoD versions.

When Mighty Matt McElroy brought up the idea of talking to the DR folks, the only thing I knew about Dystopia Rising was that a fair number of people I knew with good gaming taste enjoyed getting dressed up in Mad Max style gear and heading out to its live action events. I did see a ton of DR players at several Mid Winter Conventions leading up to sitting down with Michael and Ashley, so I had an inkling of the setting, at least.

Talking with them, and subsequently taking a deep dive into the already existing material made me impressed by what they had accomplished, and pretty sure that we could create an evocative TTRPG version. My big concern with any new game is whether we’ll be retreading ground we’re already covering, and while we had touched on post-apocalyptic milieus, we had not yet gone all in.

The chance to work with a post-apocalyptic setting, and then to adapt the Storypath System, which was just in its infancy when we decided to use it, combined for a very exciting project on both the setting and system levels. The final result, which you’ll be able to get on Wednesday, delivers both those things, and combines them, in ways we had only hoped to achieve when we first decided to make the game.

Eddy, as developer, was able to take the base Storypath System and, as we had hoped with the System, tweak it and add in elements like scavenging/building rules to better portray the setting.

Scion Companion art by Andrea Payne

So, the question has come up as to whether this post-apocalyptic opus is appropriate to offer right now. Certainly, a lot of folks are feeling like they are living in a plague movie right now, and I’d certainly understand not wanting to be reminded of that.

One of my thoughts about DR:E since first reading Eddy’s text, is how the setting demonstrates the adaptability of humanity in the face of seismic changes to civilization and society. DR:E isn’t set during the fall of society, but after humanity (in a wider definition of that term) has begun rebuilding. Which in its own way is a positive message that we can use in challenging times, like now.

Plus, there a a lot of different zombies to fight!

Along the same lines, as the rebuilding of communities is very important in the game, so are the live-action communities that have been built have been the key to DR’s success all these years. We like art imitating life imitating art, so in the interest of the tabletopDR:E‘s community we’ll be opening its Community Content site next month.

Now, as a bit of an aside, we’re not sure how many stores are actually going to be able to order this, get it, and then sell it. If they have an online store component, and you’ve been buying from them that way, please let them know that their store can get copies from Studio2 and IPR. And if you don’t have a store option right now, you too can direct order.

They Came From Beneath the Sea! art by Brian LeBlanc

How Are We Doing?

A question we share with old friends, co-workers, family far more now, and with good cause. We asked our developers, in two “town hall” group meetings last week, this very thing.

Mostly, our creators are doing okay, with varying degrees of focus from day to day (hour to hour?) on their projects. So far, two of our creators have been diagnosed with Covid 19, and so far they are doing okay. We also fielded some concerned questions as to the state of Onyx Path these days.

So far, so good. Like I’ve mentioned these last few weeks, our variety of sales channels have helped us, and we’re still rolling along with our projects even while being responsive to the challenges in the lives of our creators.

And in this taxing time, it is also tax time.

In terms of the work that we’re not just still doing but are really excited about, here’s an interview with Dixie, Neall Raemonn Price, and Monica Speca talking about Exalted Essence, a pretty innovative and important project that they continue to pull together. Lots of new details from the book in this interview: http://thestorytold.libsyn.com/exalted-essence-dev-team-interview

Let The Streets Run Red art by Michael Gaydos

Finally, as a personal example of finding ways to find the fun while being shut-in, this Easter I created an Easter Bunny scenario for the Gloomhaven boardgame for my kids, and their characters chased him through maps of the city streets, dodging the Easter Eggs he was blocking their way with. Each egg they picked up corresponded to a plastic egg with prizes inside I was hiding under the game table!

It was fun, plus I got an even better appreciation for how the designers set up and balanced Gloomhaven. Which I’ll consider as we review our own games, but it’s worth noting that info came through a diversion. Sometimes that’s what we need; we need to come at things indirectly. Even moreso when under stress.

Here’s hoping we’re providing you folks with a similar break, and a similar chance to explore new ideas…not to mention our:

Many Worlds, One Path!

Blurbs!

Kickstarter!

We’ve cancelled the Legendlore Kickstarter for the time being. While we wait for that happy day, here’s a fantastic Legendlore interview with developer Steffie de Vaan, hosted over at High Level Games! https://www.highlevelgames.ca/blog/legendlore-rpg-from-onyx-path-publishing-an-interview-with-steffie-de-vaan

We’ll get Legendlore back on KS as soon as we can, and meanwhile we are building the M20 Technocracy Reloaded Kickstarter!

Onyx Path Media!

This Friday is the Onyx Pathcast‘s 100th full episode! Huge congrats to Dixie Cochran, Eddy Webb, and Matthew Dawkins! Here’s to another 100!

This week, the Terrific Trio present a brand-new episode of Scion Actual Play! So if you’ve ever wondered how Scion plays – this is your chance to hear it in all its glory!

As always, this Friday’s Onyx Pathcast will be on Podbean or your favorite podcast venue! https://onyxpathcast.podbean.com/

As we mentioned last week, Virtual Horror Con took place raising lots of money for charity! If you haven’t already, do check out their website https://www.gehennagaming.com/, and if you missed some of their actual plays of our games, please check them out here:

CofD Mortals: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EdPfkI0FLFk

Trinity Continuum: Æon: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j7masQukyjQ

Mage: The Awakening 2nd Edition: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=13UtpbAFAfk

And here’s Gehenna Gaming’s Twitch: https://www.twitch.tv/gehennagaming

If you’re self-isolating or locked down, you can always tune in to our games this week. A few of our usual hosts are having breaks due to the situation in the world right now, but we’ve got plenty coming over the next few days, including V5, Scion, Pugmire, Changeling: The Lost, Changeling: The Dreaming, Mage: The Awakening, Scarred Lands, and a Dark ErasWerewolf: The Forsaken chronicle!

There are also several shows not yet on the schedule that are revving up to fill in for those who need a break right now, so please check out our Twitch channel during the week and keep an eye on Onyx Path social media for announcements of new programming!

This week you should really check out the new Scion game we’ve got going on our channel. You can subscribe to our channel over on twitch.tv/theonyxpath to catch up with any episodes you missed!

Come take a look at our YouTube channel, youtube.com/user/theonyxpath, where you can find a whole load of videos of actual plays, dissections of our games, and more, including:

Trinity Continuum – Aberrant: Community Service: https://youtu.be/51-Y_Diaefg

Changeling: The Lost – Littlebrook Reunion: https://youtu.be/uysogPwNFOM

Vampire: The Masquerade: Blood City – Chicago by Night: https://youtu.be/MKoMRxi9x0w

And still more Trinity Continuum – Aberrant: Community Service: https://youtu.be/5SXY7Q-Z80M

Do subscribe to our channel and click the bell icon if you want to be notified whenever new news videos and uploads come online!

Have you checked out the Botch Pit‘s gaming transcripts? Have a look on their clean, beautiful website, and check this one out for a Chronicles of Darkness game: http://thebotchpit.com/new-england-by-night-season-1-session-01-im-not-making-anyone-a-supernatural-yet-transcript/

https://ift.tt/3b89G4W

More new Occultists Anonymous for all you Mage: The Awakening fans:

Episode 96: Other Mages With the dark gift of a vampire’s patronage looming over their heads, the cabal seek out the names and identities of mages they think are appropriate sacrifices to the vampires’ bloodlust.https://youtu.be/3m0-va-JvdM

Episode 97: Short Straight The cabal gathers together their collected grimoires in one place, checking for further magical resonance and consult the ghost of a dead mage for further information.https://youtu.be/fjG2wPalY-s

Here’s the Story Told Podcast with an excellent interview with Dixie Cochran, Neall Raemonn Price, and Monica Speca on the subject of Exalted Essence: http://thestorytold.libsyn.com/exalted-essence-dev-team-interview

Garblag Games have commenced a new series of Mage: The Ascension, which has got off to a rocking start right here: https://youtu.be/yN47_NjYxtA

And if you loved V5 Chicago by Night, tune in to Junie von Esch’s channel to watch her group play through some Vampire: https://www.twitch.tv/junie_von_esch

Roll the Role continue with their Scarred Lands Gauntlet of Spiragos actual play! Roll the Role is a fantastic show, so please do give them a look: https://www.twitch.tv/rolltherole

And the bizarrely named Scabby Rooster continue their actual play of Scion, right here on their Twitch channel: https://www.twitch.tv/scabbyrooster

One of Matthew’s personal favourites, Devil’s Luck Gaming, continues their Werewolf: The Forsaken chronicle over here: https://www.twitch.tv/DevilsLuckGaming Please do give them a follow!

Please check these out and let us know if you find or produce any actual plays of our games! We’d love to feature you!

Electronic Gaming!

As we find ways to enable our community to more easily play our games, the Onyx Dice Rolling App is live! Our dev team has been doing updates since we launched based on the excellent use-case comments by our community, and this thing is awesome! (Seriously, you need to roll 100 dice for Exalted? This app has you covered.)

Update: the devs are working on the updates for the roller in both Android and iOS; here is the rundown from them:

1) Redo the UI for system for Android. It will look the same as the current design. My goal is to have something ready by Saturday to send out to the Facebook users, asking them if this fixes the issues. This will be a beta type thing. This will break several of the fancy dice.

2) If the above worked out and the android users give all the clear, we’ll redo the graphics system to fix the fancy dice that got broken. We’ll do another Android beta through Facebook. This might take up to two weeks, as my schedule allows.

3) If everything worked well, we’ll release to Android for real at that point.

4) Port all of the existing stuff to iOS and release on that.

On Amazon and Barnes & Noble!

You can now read our fiction from the comfort and convenience of your Kindle (from Amazon) and Nook (from Barnes & Noble).

If you enjoy these or any other of our books, please help us by writing reviews on the site of the sales venue from which you bought it. Reviews really, really help us get folks interested in our amazing fiction!

Our selection includes these latest fiction books:

Our Sales Partners!

We’re working with Studio2 to get Pugmire and Monarchies of Mau out into stores, as well as to individuals through their online store. You can pick up the traditionally printed main book, the screen, and the official Pugmire dice through our friends there! https://studio2publishing.com/search?q=pugmire

We’ve added Prince’s Gambit to our Studio2 catalog: https://studio2publishing.com/products/prince-s-gambit-card-game

Now, we’ve added Changeling: The Lost Second Edition products to Studio2‘s store! See them here: https://studio2publishing.com/collections/all-products/changeling-the-lost

Scarred Lands (Pathfinder) books are also on sale at Studio2, and they have the 5e version, supplements, and dice as well!: https://studio2publishing.com/collections/scarred-lands

Scion 2e books and other products are available now at Studio2: https://studio2publishing.com/blogs/new-releases/scion-second-edition-book-one-origin-now-available-at-your-local-retailer-or-online

Looking for our Deluxe or Prestige Edition books? Try this link! http://www.indiepressrevolution.com/xcart/Onyx-Path-Publishing/

And you can order Pugmire, Monarchies of Mau, Cavaliers of Mars, and Changeling: The Lost 2e at the same link! And now Scion Origin and Scion Hero and Trinity Continuum Core and Trinity Continuum: Aeon are available to order!

Deluxe Exalted 3rd Edition continues its fantastic sale at IPR, soon to be joined by Game-Line Bundles! Check them out!

As always, you can find Onyx Path’s titles at DriveThruRPG.com!

On Sale This Week!

This week the Dystopia Rising: Evolution core book will be available in PDF and PoD versions on DriveThruRPG on Wednesday, and the physical traditionally printed books will be available in stores via Studio2 and IPR!

No one knows how long it’s been since the world was blasted with nuclear radiation and became infested with the undead. The survivors of the Fall were the first strain of deviation of the human condition and were able to make it through the rapidly spreading epidemic. Finding a community of decent size in this world is rare; finding one that has any concept of equality or morality is rarer still.

Oh, and people have the unnerving ability to come back from the dead, regrown from the very virus that destroyed the world.

Some highlights of Dystopia Rising: Evolutioninclude:

Rules for creating characters for 24 different Strains, variations on humanity that survived the Fall.

Details on the powers of faith and psionics.

Advice on running action-adventure stories, webs of personal intrigue, and procedural investigations.

Dozens of antagonists, including a variety of zombies and raiders to use in your series.

Welcome to the Evolution!

We’re also offering the Dystopia Rising: Evolution Gaming Screen on Weds!

Conventions!

Though dates are subject to change due to the current COVID-19 outbreak, here’s our current list of upcoming conventions:

UKGames Expo: https://www.ukgamesexpo.co.uk/

GenCon: https://www.gencon.com/

Tabletop Scotland: https://tabletopscotland.co.uk/

Gamehole Con: https://www.gameholecon.com/

PAX Unplugged: https://unplugged.paxsite.com/

And now, the new project status updates!

Development Status from Eddy Webb! (Projects in bold have changed status since last week.):

First Draft (The first phase of a project that is about the work being done by writers, not dev prep.)

Exalted Essay Collection (Exalted)

Under Alien Suns (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Mission Statements (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Adversaries of the Righteous (Exalted 3rd Edition)

The Clades Companion (Deviant: The Renegades)

The Devoted Companion (Deviant: The Renegades)

Saints and Monsters (Scion 2nd Edition)

M20 Rich Bastard’s Guide To Magick (Mage: The Ascension 20th Anniversary)

Wild Hunt (Scion 2nd Edition)

Dead Man’s Rust (Scarred Lands)

V5 The Faithful Undead (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

V5 Trails of Ash and Bone (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

V5 Forbidden Religions (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Redlines

Dragon-Blooded Novella #2 (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Hundred Devil’s Night Parade (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Trinity Continuum: Adventure! core (Trinity Continuum: Adventure!)

Contagion Chronicle Ready-Made Characters (Chronicles of Darkness)

Novas Worldwide (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Exalted Essence Edition (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Second Draft

Exigents (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Crucible of Legends (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Many-Faced Strangers – Lunars Companion (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Kith and Kin (Changeling: The Lost 2e)

Assassins (Trinity Continuum Core)

The Book of Endless Death (Mummy: The Curse 2e)

N!ternational Wrestling Entertainment (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Development

Heirs to the Shogunate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

TC: Aberrant Reference Screen (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Across the Eight Directions (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Contagion Chronicle: Global Outbreaks (Chronicles of Darkness)

M20 Victorian Mage (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

They Came From Beyond the Grave! (They Came From!)

Manuscript Approval

Scion: Dragon (Scion 2nd Edition)

Post-Approval Development

Scion: Demigod (Scion 2nd Edition)

Editing

Terra Firma (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Lunars Novella (Rosenberg) (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Buried Bones: Creating in the Realms of Pugmire (Realms of Pugmire)

Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition core rulebook (Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition)

Player’s Guide to the Contagion Chronicle (Chronicles of Darkness)

Contagion Chronicle Jumpstart (Chronicles of Darkness)

TC: Aberrant Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Trinity Continuum Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum)

Masks of the Mythos (Scion 2nd Edition)

LARP Rules (Scion 2nd Edition)

One Foot in the Grave Jumpstart (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2e)

Post-Editing Development

City of the Towered Tombs (Cavaliers of Mars)

W20 Shattered Dreams Gift Cards (Werewolf: The Apocalypse 20th)

Cults of the Blood Gods (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Hunter: The Vigil 2e core (Hunter: The Vigil 2nd Edition)

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant core (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Deviant: The Renegades (Deviant: The Renegades)

Monsters of the Deep (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Legendlore core book (Legendlore)

Titanomachy (Scion 2nd Edition)

Pirates of Pugmire KS-Added Adventure (Realms of Pugmire)

Tales of Aquatic Terror (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Indexing

Art Direction from Mike Chaney!

In Art Direction

Scion Titanomachy – Wrapping up contracting.

Tales of Aquatic Terror – Contracted.

TC Aeon Terra Firma – Most of the art is in, maybe all of it.

V5 Let the Streets Run Red – Tweaking some art re: WW art approvals.

Cavaliers of Mars: City of the Towered Tombs

WoD Ghost Hunters

Aberrant – Contacting and contracting – wrapping up half-pagers and portraits.

Pugmire Adventure

Hunter: The Vigil 2e

Mummy 2

Deviant – Rolling along.

Legendlore – Kickstarter on hiatus.

Technocracy Reloaded (KS) – Art and graphics ready to go.

Cults of the Blood God – Rolling along.

In Layout

Yugman’s Guide to Ghelspad

Contagion Chronicle

Vigil Watch

Duke Rollo Book

Proofing

Trinity Aeon Jumpstart

Pirates of Pugmire

TCFBTS Heroic Land Dwellers – Inputting proofing comments.

Lunars: Fangs at the Gate – Awaiting 2nd proof notes.

Scion Companion – Tweaking art re: proofing notes.

At Press

TC Distant Worlds

Night Horrors : Nameless and Accursed – Awaiting Errata.

Dark Eras 2 – PoD proof shipping.

VtR Spilled Blood – PoD proof shipping.

Dystopia Rising: Evolution – On Sale this Wednesday!

DR:E Screen & Booklet – On Sale this Wednesday!

DR:E Helnau’s Guide to Wasteland Beasties

Geist 2e Screen

TCFBTS Screen and Booklet

They Came from Beneath the Sea! – Reviewing Indexing.

Geist 2e Anthology – PoD proof ordered.

C:tL 2e Oak, Ash, & Thorn – Awaiting Errata.

Today’s Reason to Celebrate!

Happy Birthday! to the 5th Doctor: in 1951 Peter Davison was born. He’s looking at me right now from my 2020 Doctor Who calendar, as April is the month he appears in this year. Must have been a tough assignment following Tom Baker after the 4th Doctor had been burned into people’s minds for 8 years. Yet, for many, Davison’s Doctor is Their Doctor, which is the way it should be – so kudos to him for creating another version and era of the classic character!

#Onyx Path Publishing

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rockwell-light · 6 years ago

Text

Goals for the New Year (2019 edition!)

Looking back at last year's journal I was pretty unfocused about my goals |D I think I had a vague idea of essentially wanting to share more of my OCs, wanting to post more, and wanting to make more time to interact with folks and draw. This year I've got a lot more substance to what I want, er, maybe a little too much? Let's review 2018 and then my new goals ;v;

What I did accomplish:

I ended up starting to make character reference sheets as a start to sharing my OCs, which wasn't a bad way to go <: This year I'd like to continue that trend for sure! It's helping me nail down appearances for some characters that have only been strictly written before, and finalizing/updating appearances for characters that I've drawn for a long time. I initially started with really clean references and then moved into more sketchy ones for the sake of saving time, and I'll probably continue to do that for most of my characters and side projects, minus the really important ones (I intend to give Rock, Cale, and Vox clean refs, for example). I also managed to post at least once every month here which was a goal of mine last year, and I'm very proud of myself for that

It seems like such a small amount of times to upload art (a minimum of 12 times all year) but it's a goal that seemed challenging with my lack of free time.

I am still working on making more time to draw and be social. The job I started at the beginning of last year really dug into my time and energy, and I ended up springing for a new one during the holidays. I've been told that somewhere probably from mid to late January (or maybe early February depending on how long it takes to train new folks) I'll be able to have less hours on my plate. This is a big deal because art is what I want to do most, and with more people slowly offering to commission me, I desperately want to have the time to do said commissions. I have turned down several friends and clients when asked (or not responded because I was unsure how to explain myself), purely because I didn't feel I could do even a single image in a timely manner, and I didn't want them waiting months for something they paid for. Fingers crossed this will be changing soon!

But that rolls into more things I did do! I took way more commissions last year than I have before, and I have a small steady queue of folks who would like more that I want to get back to! I also tried some YCHs and adopts and had some success there as well ;v; It was a goal of mine to really work at that stuff and even if it's a small amount compared to other artists, I'm really excited about it!

I also had my first ever convention table! My fiancee Cristal ( @hellscythearts ) and I got to sell our prints at an anime/geek convention and that was a dream come true! I've wanted to do that ever since attending my very first convention when I was really young. I also got a lot of practice in with clean line art and cell shading, which are two things I've always wanted to get better at, but had no confidence in ;v; and this year I really liked a lot of my pieces, enough to sell them as prints even!

What I didn't do:

I didn't end up sharing as much about my characters as I wanted to, or starting any big projects (curse you anxiety and time management!). While I did start making references for a lot of them (and their alternate universe variations because we have way too many AU versions hanging around), I didn't actually finish all of the references I wanted to. I also haven't actually TALKED about them that much outside of those posts.

There haven't been a lot of written snippets with large illustrations, or drabbles/plain writing shared. I also only did a handful of small comics when I'd hoped to do more to showcase their personalities. I do like the ones I did, I just want to do more! I'm still nervous to go in depth with many of them, even if their appearances are appealing I worry about their characterization or stories being uninteresting ;v; but I need to remind myself that I like writing them, and that should be the most important part. It's just a bonus if you guys end up liking them too!

I also didn't end up with a job that gave me more time but WE'LL SEE ABOUT THIS NEWEST ONE NOW THAT THE HOLIDAYS ARE WINDING DOWN.

What I want to do:

Okay, I have a lot of different ideas for what I'd like to work on this year. I'm going to lay out WAY TOO MANY GOALS, with the understanding to myself that I don't need to accomplish all of them. Even just one is okay. Please remind me of that too if I get too down on myself and my progress ;v; I want to do a lot but I need to take it easy on myself when it comes to productivity and output just because art isn't my main occupation yet. These goals are not listed in any particular order or priority!

Keep making references! There are lots of characters I didn't get to yet, and I want to at least get to the "main" ones and their original versions. Other sketchy AU refs are a bonus.

ACTUALLY SHARE PARTS OF MY OC'S STORIES AND MORE ABOUT THEM. This could be comics, drabbles, journal memes, or written snippets with art. It doesn't matter, make me post about my OCsand not just leave cool doodles and no information. I want you guys to start getting to know them like I know them.

COMICS. I want to start making comics. Both one off comics about my characters like I did in 2018, but also more structured ones. Cristal and I have so much writing done, and a few character stories that are basically finished, so no more excuses not to get drawing on at least one of those ones!

More Youtube: I have two different ideas about this. Last year I posted one speedpaint video almost every month, excluding November and December (although I did three in October so???) I want to try and keep that momentum. But I also want to try my hand at some other things-- specifically small animations. These would be pretty non-serious stuff, and mostly a lot of memes that fit my OCs, or maybe small 10-30 second scenes with music. So every month if I can, I'd like to post EITHER A SPEEDPAINT OR SHOT ANIMATION (with or without audio).

Attend more conventions! We've signed up for some so this is really just not to get discouraged and to keep signing up as more open. I know we won't get into all of them but I want to try to start doing it more regularly, being a part time convention artist is really appealing to me. Our first time was honestly like being paid to be on vacation and it was super good for my anxiety and stress issues.

Keep accepting commissions: It would be cool if I could take more of them this year, but I'd at least like to keep doing them at all. For the tail end of last year my momentum really died down and I stopped taking almost any. I'm not sure what a realistic goal/number here would be, so I'm sort of stuck on -take them at all- right now.

Continue posting art at least once a month to dA/twitter/tumblr! My standards with this goal are pretty loose. Big illustrations would be the ideal, but comics and references or weird experimental art are also a-okay. I want to stay lax about this.

Again, I don't need to do all of these goals. Heck I could probably rotate them a little through the year. These are just all the things I'd like to work on. Drawing and writing and animating are like, the things I've always wanted to do with my life, and I keep being afraid to put myself out there more. It can be hard to balance work with this (at the moment I'm doing A LOT OF OVERTIME), but it's ultimately what would make me the most happy. I want to be financially stable, but still be creatively fulfilled. Ideally I think working part time and then taking commissions/doing conventions/comics is where I want to shoot for, so we'll see what the year brings ;v;

Now!!! Tell me about YOUR goals. What do you want to do this year creatively? How do you want to improve your art/writing? What about none art related things? How did you do with last year? Did you make progress? Did you find something new you're passionate about/interested in? What about non-art goals?

#long post #robot buzzin'

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woohooligancomics · 6 years ago

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A Personal Racism Issue. Can I Get Your Advice?

I'm at a bit of a loss... so I'm hoping some of you hooligans might be able to help me out. This weekend I'm tabling a gaming convention with a friend of mine (and I'll leave his name out here for reasons that will be apparent -- I'll call him X). Admittedly, I'm a comedian and a cartoonist, so a gaming convention is slightly off-brand, but I'm hoping there will be a good cross-section of people who also enjoy comedy, and at the end of Friday I've already collected 5 new subscribers to our newsletter, the Woohooligan Weekly Dick Joke Advocate.

This came about when I got an unexpected call from X about a month before the event and he mentioned in passing that he'd already booked a table for this event. I offered to share the booth with him, because I want to attend more cons and I thought I could handle the 5hr drive. I've tabled about a half-dozen cons so far, this would be his first. And although he's a relatively new friend (a year?), I didn't have the impression he was racist -- at least not overtly or knowingly so... I wouldn't associate myself with anyone who identified as "Alt-Right", I think that should be apparent from my work, of which X is aware. Dunking on these racists was part of all three of my most recent YouTube videos, and a comic I published in 2016 which appears in my recent Woohooligan Vol 2 (page 29) that I now have on the table at the event thanks to our recent Kickstarter.

youtube

What I didn't realize until I arrived at the event, is that X is selling t-shirts labelled "Fantasy Lives Matter". There are about a dozen of them, roughly half of his t-shirt designs, so for example a picture of an orc with the text "Orc Lives Matter", another for Elf, Dwarf, etc. I hoped at first that it would go unnoticed as people often don't read the text and just check out the artwork. I've already noticed one girl at the table this morning was put off. She asked me, "are you a Black Lives Matter person or an all lives matter person"? To which I responded "black lives matter... I haven't had that specific conversation with X, though I suspect he's the same"...

Apparently I was wrong, which, I realize in retrospect is what I should have expected, because I think the majority of people would have picked up on the poor taste of trivializing serious problems faced by real people. I want to say I think most people would have picked up on that faster than I did actually, since I think I'd seen these graphics before (I mean, months ago), and it just hadn't clicked in my mind, despite all the work I've done.

I tried to have a brief conversation with X about it, which went nowhere good...

Me: Hey, X. This girl just left, put off by the FLM designs... she asked if I was BLM or ALM.

X: [rolls eyes] Yeah that was my dad's big problem too, thinking people would be offended, and if they are, fuck 'em. I'm saying "all lives matter", even fictional ones.

(That last sentence is a huge problem for me, for reasons I think should be obvious.)

Me: "All lives matter" is intended to shut down people trying to address serious problems.

X: People don't know how to address problems... and to be honest, some of those people running in with the police deserve what they're getting.

(We're way into not-okay territory here and I've invested a huge amount of time and a notable amount of money in this event, and knowing now that X apparently has difficulty staying awake while driving on the freeway, I'm also concerned about his safety if I decided to just leave suddenly... but at this moment I'm not ready to get into what seems like is likely to devolve into a screaming match in front of everyone at the con.)

Me: the BLM movement only exists because there's a huge amount of injustice built into the system. When everything else is held equal, a black person on average receives 2-3 times more jail time than a white person, and that should never happen.

(I don't have reference for that specific figure on-hand -- please check my work and leave a link if you have one, whether I remembered it correctly or not. Thank you.)

X: [basically murmurred agreement]

I don't want to make any excuses for his diminishing of real-world problems, I think it's bad... I'm conflicted about how to address this problem for myself... I plan to publish photos of myself at the con, and the signs for those designs will be in the background... do I black them out? If I do that, am I enabling him?

I don't *think* he realizes what the problem is... I don't *think* he's deliberately racist. On the way back to the house from the convention he offered to buy me dinner at a shawarma place (I'd never had it -- it was good -- it actually reminded me of some southern cafeterias, although the seasoning and the decoration were a little different.)

The waitresses wore hijabs and he was familiar them (had been there many times), and treated them nice enough... though I will say that some of the things he says seem fairly insensitive in a general sense. For example, he makes a lot of objectifying comments about women, including for example, one of the shawarma waitresses, "[damn she's hot]... and great tits". (Of course, he's only seen her breasts 100% covered -- not even cleavage -- so it's a little odd to me to hear someone be so overtly objectifying of someone who's entire outward image is one of "I am not here for you to ogle".) And the whole day at the con was similar -- frequent mentions of "she's smokin' hot" or "that red head" or "I've never wanted to give wood to an elf so bad", which I tried not to encourage. (I like porn too, but my interest in potential partners isn't based on their looks.)

These are things I hadn't noticed in previous phone or online conversations. So I'm a bit conflicted... He's open enough to be friendly with the shawarma waitresses... but he's also interested in them to the point of sexual interest in women who're being very careful to be NOT sexy. So how confrontational should I be about "fantasy lives matter"?

I don't plan to share a table with him again if he's going to continue promoting them... I would hope he would eventually figure out that the phrase is likely to reduce his sales, even when a person might agree with his sentiment, because they don't want to buy a shirt that's going to get them into verbal fisticuffs with people. But this being his first event, and saying that he's already plunked down $1400 into it, it seems to me unlikely that he'll learn that soon. Though in honesty, it always feels like cold comfort to me when someone is doing the right thing only because they realize some kind of financial reward for it.

So should just not sharing tables in the future be where I leave it? Is it okay to accept that, "he's not a deliberate racist, just kind of an insensitive jerk" and just limit my involvement? As an autistic person who knows what it's like to be ostracized for being unintentionally insensitive, am I being too harsh if I say I feel like this is too much? Does that make me a hypocrite? And what about the fact that there are now photos of me in the act of affiliating myself with the creator who promoted "fantasy lives matter"?

Regardless of how it may impact my image, I'm trying to figure out what course of action will produce the best results for everyone -- that hopefully anyone who can become a better person will, regardless of how it impacts my image. Obviously I always have to think about my image, we all do, but that's a secondary concern. I feel like I should be willing to sacrifice my image if the alternative is being hypocritical, cruel, or even just unwilling to evolve or better myself.

Thanks for reading and helping me with this. I appreciate any advice you have.

- Sam

(Now I need to get about 6 hours sleep, because I spent too long composing this blog and have to be up early for the event tomorrow. Thank god my diabetes didn't trash my energy today, and fingers crossed I have the same luck tomorrow.)

UPDATE 9/17/2018

Maybe I should have waited until the end of the event before writing this blog, but the subject distresses me and I wanted to talk about it sooner than later. At the end of Friday, neither X or I had sold anything at the event. Saturday morning, X printed off about 4 shirts as samples to lay on the front of the table (good marketing), to show people that, "hey these pictures on the poster in the back go on t-shirts". It worked and over Saturday and Sunday, he sold at least a half-dozen shirts, most of them "Fantasy Lives Matter" shirts. So while there are some people who are offended by them, there are apparently also a large number of people excited by them (I think exclusively white people that I saw, although most of the attendees looked pretty white to me as well). ::sigh::

Over the course of the event, 27 new people signed up for our Woohooligan Weekly Dick Joke Advocate mailing list. I know many of those people were either indifferent to the FLM shirts or some may have even been excited by them... but I have no idea how many people may have simply avoided conversation with me all-together because of them.

I still have no plans to share another table with X. It's weird to me, because he's really sensitive about other things, like he kept profusely apologizing for falling asleep in the car because he apparently suffers from pretty bad road hypnosis. He's made the hour drive before, but I was concerned about him making the drive after a full day manning the table at the con. Meanwhile I also discovered he's got a huge chip on his shoulder about (of all things) shaking hands.

X: I hate it. I don't like people touching me.

Me: You know people are about 30% more likely to buy from you right?

X: You may be right, but I don't care. It was originally a symbol of distrust. Do you know where it came from?

Me: Yeah, it was originally a way of showing that you weren't armed, but it's evolved into a symbol of trust.

X: It's evolbed into a bullshit thing we do for no goddamn reason!

So to recap: shaking hands is tragic evidence of the decline of civilization, while Black Lives Matter is deluded and don't know how to address problems, and "many of them deserve what they're getting anyway".

I just can't fathom how a person can have that set of priorities when they go out of their way to eat shawarma and so forth and don't appear to be outwardly racist in any other way that I can tell.

His FLM shirts outsold mine by a wide margin, and frankly I don't care... or rather, I find it disheartening... and I'm not about to deliberately associate my work with it in the future. All people need justice, and if you think it through, you should realize that "all lives matter" is the actual meaning of "black lives matter". Saying "all lives matter" as a response is like saying of the condition of slaves, "slave owners have problems, too!" It takes air away from the importance of addressing a great deal of injustice in our country and I don't want to contribute to trivializing that in any way. Even if I stood to gain financially from it, I wouldn't do it.

I'm still not sure what else to do, beyond just not sharing con tables with him again, and would still appreciate hearing any thoughts you have on it. Thanks.

- Sam

#racism #public relations

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megaphonemonday · 7 years ago

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the price paid

Here it is. The bed sharing fic I’ve been sitting on for way too long. What better reason to get it out in the world than @darling-in-my-fashion‘s birthday, though? Happy birthday, Jen! Sorry it’s a little late! Here’s five times Ginny and Mike fell asleep together + one time they woke up together.

read on ao3

Phoenix, AZ

Ginny was starting to regret the cool shower she’d taken immediately upon returning to her hotel room. Not that she hadn’t needed it.

After playing nearly eight innings in the Arizona heat—the retractable roof of Chase Field on the fritz because of course it was—she was rank. It didn’t help that the Diamondbacks still didn’t have a separate bathroom in the visitors’ clubhouse for her. Rather than hold up the whole team, she’d had to stew in her own sweat and funk on the bus ride back to the hotel.

Even Blip had refused to sit next to her.

Walking into her air conditioned room had been a blessing, though Ginny’d only appreciated it for a few seconds before stripping down and disappearing into the shower.

Now, though, she was thinking the air conditioning was more of a curse.

Shivering, she stood before the little panel mounted on the wall. It didn’t matter how many buttons she pushed, the rush of cool air from the vent wouldn’t stop or get any warmer. If anything, it had gotten colder.

“It’s really not working,” Ginny informed the hotel’s operator, the handset of her room’s phone cradled between her shoulder and her ear. She’d hold it, but she’d pulled her arms into her sweater to try and conserve body heat.

That also wasn’t working.

Maybe if there were fewer holes in the knit, it’d be more effective. Ginny vowed to put her foot down on the whole “distressed” look from here on out.

The woman on the other end of the line tsked in sympathy. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Baker. We’ve called the repairman, but he won’t be able to come out until the morning.”

Ginny sighed. “And there are no other available rooms?” Another round of shivers wracked her body, in spite of the fact that she was wearing every clean piece of clothing left in her suitcase. Not that there had been much left. They were on the tail end of a nine day road trip and were supposed to head back to San Diego tomorrow.

The tapping of a keyboard sounded faintly over the line as the operator checked for the third time. For the third time, the answer was the same. “Unfortunately, no. There are several conventions in town this weekend and we’re overbooked as is. I could check and see if there’s a space heater somewhere?” she tacked on hopefully.

Ginny sighed for approximately the fifteenth time. “That’s all right. It’s just one night. Thanks for your help.”

Now that she wasn’t concentrating on the conversation, there was nothing else for Ginny to focus on other than how cold she was. Really fucking cold. Tucking her chilled fingers under her arms, she wracked her brain for a solution to this problem. Either through creative problem solving or sheer stubbornness, she was going to get through this.

She considered the nest of blankets she’d constructed on the bed. Unfortunately, blanket nests were more effective at trapping heat than generating it. And given the way she could barely feel her toes, Ginny didn’t have a lot of hope of doing that on her own.

The fluffy robe hanging off the back of the bathroom door was too damp to offer much warmth. Same went for all the towels. The only upside of that was that Ginny’s hair wasn’t dripping onto her shoulders, delivering extra shivers with every drop.

Maybe she could use the hairdryer to blow some feeling back into her fingers and toes...

No other solution presented itself, aside from layering on some of her dirty clothes, most of which were sweat soaked thanks to the lack of shower facilities available to her on the road. The thought made her shudder, and not from cold, which she supposed was a nice change of pace.

Just as she reluctantly resolved to poke through her suitcase and search out the cleanest of her clothes for when she could feel her extremities again, there was a knock on her door.

Pushing her arms back through the appropriate holes of her loose sweater—the tissue-thin fabric looked nice and could survive a week in her suitcase, but didn’t offer much warmth—Ginny crossed to the door, goosebumps breaking out every step of the way.

If the shivers only multiplied at the sight through the peephole, at least Ginny wasn’t all that surprised. It was her standard reaction to the man standing in the hall. She didn’t even need to take a moment to calm herself before opening the door; shivers were just part of every day around Mike Lawson.

“What?” she demanded, short and, dare she say it, icy as she addressed her captain. Nonetheless, she leaned into the warm air wafting in from the hall and told herself it wasn’t Mike’s radiant heat.

His brows jumped, used to a warmer reception, especially on evenings after she pitched and neglected to hit the town with the rest of the team. Those were the nights that Mike always found himself bouncing around his hotel room too. Until he came looking for Ginny, to do a post mortem on the game or watch trashy TV or just talk until their eyelids started to droop and they parted ways.

Apparently that time of the evening had come.

Mike was distracted from her prickliness pretty quickly. Probably aided by the blast of arctic air that blew past Ginny to hit him.

“Jesus, Baker.” He shuddered, arms crossing over his chest in a way that he had to realize made him look supremely appealing. His flannel rolled up over his forearms, biceps deliciously filling out his sleeves, Mike Lawson looked like warmth personified. And Ginny could definitely use some warmth right about now. “Are you hiding a polar bear in there? You know you ca’t make it snow inside, right?”

“I know that,” she bit out, trying to keep her teeth from chattering.

“Then what’s with the Arctic climate? You’re gonna freeze to death.” he demanded, leaning casually up against the doorframe. When she frowned sourly—in spite of what a tempting prospect he made; couldn’t have him knowing that—he rolled his eyes. “Turn the fucking heat up.”

“Huh,” she huffed, tapping a finger against her chin as if in deep thought. The acid in her tone, though, probably didn’t do much to sell the bit. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

Mike’s brow furrowed even deeper and he pushed himself upright. After a moment of scrutiny, which Ginny did her best to bear without fidgeting, he brushed past her and strode into the room, going straight to the thermostat.

He jabbed at every button, cursing when some combination made even more cold air gush out of the vents.

“Even I didn’t manage to do that,” Ginny observed blandly from her post just a few feet away. “And I think I hit every button on that thing.”

“Shut up,” he groused, though he did stop pressing buttons at random. Instead, he turned to the phone, abandoned on the foot of Ginny’s bed, and moved to pick it up. “Well, call down to the front desk, see if they can get you in another room—”

Ginny was already shaking her head. “There aren’t any available. And no one can get up here to fix it.” When Mike turned back to her, a little incredulous, she grinned. “I already checked. Catch up, old man.”

He rolled his eyes and cast his gaze around the room, clearly looking for another fix the way she had.

She wasn’t sure what she expected him to say next, but it certainly wasn’t, “How fast can you get packed up?”

“Um.” Ginny rocked back on her heels, eyes gone wide. As far as she knew, there were just a few scattered toiletries in the bathroom to gather, her phone charger on the night stand and her shoes in the closet. What she didn’t know, though, was if he was really asking what he was asking.

Or, more accurately, she couldn’t quite believe he was asking what he was asking.

“C’mon. If I leave you here, and some clubbie has to come find you in the morning because you’ve frozen solid overnight and held us all up, I’m never gonna hear the end of it.”

She huffed out a laugh. “So chivalrous.”

“That’s me. Now come on and get your bag packed before my balls freeze off.”

“Oh my God,” Ginny sputtered, ducking into the bathroom before he could see the flush that took over her cheeks at the mere suggestion of Mike’s balls and everything that came with them.

Unfortunately, in the confines of Mike’s hotel room and especially after he emerged from the bathroom in his own pajamas—loose basketball shorts and one of his cut up muscle shirts; why did she think it wasn’t often he actually wore pajamas?—it became harder not to think about.

It became almost impossible once he joined her under the covers, and they were separated by only a bare foot of space on the cushy mattress.

They hadn’t discussed this part. Hadn’t, in the hours they’d spent killing time since Ginny arrived in Mike’s room and burrowed straight under the blankets, spoken about the fact that they were about to fall asleep together. In the same bed. On purpose.

She hadn’t thought they’d need to. How many times had they fallen asleep near one another? On planes and buses and even over the phone back in her first season; it was pretty run of the mill by now.

This didn’t feel run of the mill. This, closed into a private room, sharing one bed, was entirely different from drifting to sleep surrounded by the quiet chatter of their team and the machine hum of a jet’s engine.

Her heart felt like a hummingbird, ready to burst out of her chest. Or at least draw her closer to Mike and everything she wanted from him. Which was so, so much, even though she wasn’t supposed to.

So, to take her mind off all the things she wanted wrapped up in 220 pounds of major league catcher, Ginny concentrated on her game of Words With Friends. Mike reached over and turned off the light on his bedside table.

She concentrated on the jumble of letters. He settled back against the pillows.

She concentrated on trying to find a word that would put her ahead of Evelyn for good. Mike tossed and turned, searching for a comfortable position.

She concentrated on her phone so long, the screen went dark. Ginny had to scramble to unlock it again, for something to occupy her racing thoughts.

Mike’s huff cut through the too-close dark. “Baker, I swear to God—”

“Sorry,” she said, sheepishly relocking her phone. The room descended into full darkness. Or something much closer to it. Faint shafts of light seeped in through the gaps of the curtains and the alarm clock continued to glow dimly on the nightstand.

“Some of us need our beauty sleep.”

“Is that why you take so many naps?” she teased automatically, turning to her side and coming face to face with Mike’s fond annoyance. If she didn’t act like this was weird, maybe it wouldn’t be.

No, it was still weird. But good weird. The kind of weird where she could still make fun of him and coax out that fond grimace, which was such a fucking relief.

He scoffed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.”

Mike didn’t bother to argue with her, letting the room grow quiet. Soon, his breathing evened out, and Ginny felt hers slow to match without even trying. Her eyes fluttered shut, but not before she took a good long look at Mike’s peaceful face, the stress lines that were so prominent in high stakes games smoothed to faint creases and the laugh lines that took over any time else. He was so close, his parted lips puffing out gentle puffs of air. It would be so, so easy—

Cheeks burning, Ginny rolled over, forced her mind to go blank, and prayed sleep would take her soon.

Milwaukee, WI

Mike had burst into the hallway, heading for safety before he fully understood what was happening. Actually, he wasn’t sure he’d ever fully understand what was happening. It was almost three in the morning, okay? His brain wasn’t exactly firing on all cylinders.

He skidded to a halt in front of the room whose number he told himself he hadn’t memorized the second he heard it assigned. Not in the event that something like... whatever the hell had gone down in his room happened. Just because he always liked knowing where the room’s occupant was.

What? That wasn’t weird.

Not weirder than staying in an actual haunted hotel, at least.

Which he still wasn’t prepared to admit was actually true.

Barely taking a moment to catch his breath or rue the fact that his credibility on this front—the actual years he had spent making fun of rookies and teammates too scared to stay at the Pfister—was going to take a real hit, Mike pounded on the door, in time to the rhythm of his racing heart.

When that door finally opened, his pulse began to calm.

It was probably better if Mike didn’t scrutinize his reaction to Ginny Baker too closely. Didn’t keep him from doing it, but it would’ve been better for him.

In spite of the fact that it was well past her bedtime—it’d been well past her bedtime when the team rolled into the hotel an hour ago—she didn’t look as if she’d been asleep. To be fair, Mike hadn’t really given her much of a chance to settle in and get to sleep.

Well, more accurately, whatever’d scared the living hell out of him hadn’t given her a chance.

Ginny’s gaze trailed up and down his form, taking in his unbuttoned cuffs and bare feet, catching his undone belt buckle and sticking there for a beat too long. When her eyes met his again, a dark flush rode high on her cheekbones, but her chin lifted, daring him to comment.

He didn’t.

(It wasn’t like he had any room to judge her for ogling—God, he hope it was ogling. He was no better than her; attention lingering on the bare sliver of flesh across her hips, between the waistband of her pajama pants and the hem of her too-short tank top. Didn’t matter how often he’d seen her cozy and comfortable in her sleepwear, Mike never got enough of it.)

“Let me in,” he demanded instead, beyond ready to get out of the fucking hallway where it felt like anyone—or anything—could be watching.

“Uh, no?” she replied, blocking his way and squinting at him like he’d lost his mind.

Maybe he had.

“Jesus, Baker! I’m not going back to my room, so let me in.”

“Why aren’t you going back to your room?” she demanded, still not budging an inch. A trace of worry did kiss her brow, though that didn’t mean she was just going to fold because he told her to. Ginny wouldn’t be Ginny if she did.

He heaved a deep breath. “Look, I’m not saying they’re real, but if gh—”

“Ghosts?” she interrupted, looking far too delighted for the scare he’d just suffered.

He sighed. Heavily. Which was apparently answer enough for Ginny.

“What happened to Mr. ‘The fucking hotel’s not haunted; now shut up and get in there and get to sleep?’” she teased, leaning against the doorjamb and otherwise looking far too smug for her own good. “I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts.”

Mike glared balefully, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t,” he bit out, “but I don’t think whatever turned my shower on a minute ago cares.”

She blinked, clearly surprised that he’d come so close to admitting what he’d always—most recently less than an hour ago as the team pulled up to the hotel, fresh off their redeye flight from San Francisco—argued was impossible. But then she was rolling with it, her head tipping to the side as she studied him, an infuriating smirk pasted on her mouth.

“Did you at least turn it off?”

“I didn’t even stop to grab my phone,” he admitted.

Ginny laughed, but stepped back to allow him in. “Should I feel honored you came to me to save you from the big bad ghosts?”

He rolled his eyes, but the absolute delight on her face was hard to find truly irritating. "Everyone’s doubled up but you, me, and Al. And he snores."

"And I don’t?"

“Nope,” he replied, easily stepping inside as Ginny moved out of his way. As he passed, Mike did smirk a little and say, "You do talk in your sleep, though." It was safer than dwelling on the fact that he actually knew the answer to her question. Or the waft of her perfume that snared him as he went by.

"I do not!” she protested, closing the door behind him.

The click of the latch didn’t echo in the room, but it did through Mike’s brain.

Which was ridiculous. It wasn’t like this was the first time he and Ginny had been in a room all by themselves; they did that basically every day once they bored everyone to tears with their exhaustive game prep. It wasn’t even the first time they’d been in a hotel room on their own. They hung out with one another pretty regularly on the road; this wasn’t unusual.

It felt unusual.

And not just because Mike had been scared out of his room by faulty plumbing.

“So, are you gonna tell me what happened?”

Mike watched in amusement as Ginny flopped onto the foot of the bed, in spite of the way the blankets on her usual side—and the fact that he knew Ginny even had a usual side was not a problem, not at all—were pulled back and rumpled. Clearly, she had been in bed when he came pounding on her door. She seemed to melt in to the bed as it was, peering up at him curiously in a way that made him want to join her.

Instead, Mike crossed to the desk tucked into the corner of her room, settling into the chair like it was exactly where he wanted to be. She had to crane her head back to actually look at him. It opened up the long line of her throat, only to be swallowed up by the scoop neck of her tank.

“Well,” he began, trying to decide exactly how much he wanted to tell her. Of course, with the way she was looking at him, eyes bright and ready for a story, it wasn’t like he could brush the question aside. “I got into my room and started unpacking. The lights flickered a little bit, but I figured it was just the wiring—”

“Amateur mistake,” she interjected expertly.

Mike rolled his eyes but continued, “So I went into the bathroom to get ready for bed. I brushed my teeth and was just washing my face when I noticed the steam on the mirror.”

Ginny rolled onto her stomach, eyes wide. “Oh, no.”

“Yep. I hadn’t noticed over the running tap, but the shower had turned on, cranked all the way to scalding.”

“There wasn’t anything written in the fog, was there?” She bounced onto her knees, leaning in like she was in danger of missing any of the gory details. Ginny’d scooted all the way to the near corner of the bed, eating up all the careful distance he’d put between them. She was so close Mike would hardly have to lean forward to scoop her up and settle her in his lap.

He had a feeling she’d fit pretty well there, but tonight wasn’t the night to find out.

“Funny enough,” he drawled, shoving away all thoughts of Ginny’s weight draped over his thighs, her curls caught up in his fist, “I did not stick around to find out.”

“Chicken,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “The ghost totally knew you were trash talking it on the bus.”

“Ghosts aren’t real, Baker.”

“Oh, so what chased you outta your room, then?” One well-groomed brow arched in challenge.

Mike just shook his head, struggling to rein in the smile that wanted to take root. Eventually, he gave up, leaning back in the chair, feet planted firmly on the ground, to let her laugh at him.

Which she took full advantage of. He even joined in, the sound of their twined enjoyment—just a little strung out and raucous from sleep deprivation and nerves—like actual fucking music to his ears.

When it began to fade away, it didn’t feel like a punch to the gut. But only because Ginny’s eyes remained on him, giddy and, even better, heated.

Up until she blinked, her cheeks going dark. God, he loved that look; cheeks flushed a rusty pink, lush lips parted, eyes wide like her interest took her by surprise every time. It certainly still surprised Mike; Ginny had her pick of anyone, why would she want him?

She blinked again and looked down, signaling an end to the evening’s allotted flirting.

“Can you get dressed?” she muttered, eyes downcast.

He raised a single brow, enjoying her discomfort as much she’d enjoyed his fear in the hall. Ginny might be done flirting for the night; didn’t mean Mike had to agree. “Get dressed? I am dressed, Baker.”

She lifted her head and glared, flapping a hand vaguely at his waist. He looked down and sure enough, there was his belt, still drooping from the loops, more suggestive than he’d ever actually intend.

Well as long as they weren’t talking about that night last August, at least.

He straightened up, unsure if he should re-buckle it or take it off altogether. He knew it should be an easy decision, but he was so tired. And it wasn’t like he was going to sleep in his belt and jeans.

Just like he wasn’t going back to sleep in that goddamn room. He’d sleep in the hall before he went back there. He certainly hoped he wouldn’t have to, that Ginny wouldn’t make him.

Mike wasn’t above begging.

Luckily, Ginny seemed to arrive at the same conclusion before he worked himself up to it.

With a decisive nod, she unfolded herself and held out her hand to Mike. He raised an eyebrow, skeptical.

“Let’s go, old man,” she said, just a bit impatient.

“Go? Where?”

“To your room,” she said, like it should have been obvious. Which, to be clear, it was not. The only obvious thing about this was that they shouldn’t go anywhere near his room. Ginny pursed her lips and wiggled her fingers at him, trying to tempt him into taking hold of them. Like he wasn’t always tempted. “C’mon. You’re gonna need your phone. And something to sleep in. I promise I’ll protect you from the big, bad ghost.”

Which was exactly why Mike found himself dashing through the halls of one of Milwaukee’s oldest hotels for the second time of the night. Early morning. Whatever.

This time, at least, he was right on Ginny Baker’s heels.

He nearly crashed into Ginny as she shakingly fed her keycard into the reader. Mike shifted uneasily at her back, checking over his shoulder, though some sane part of his mind told him he probably wouldn’t see a ghost coming. Because they didn’t exist.

Probably.

Thank God the reader chose that moment to blink green, the door falling open before their combined urgency, and he and Ginny spilled into her room.

If he latched the deadbolt and flipped the bar guard before hustling after his pitcher, that was his business.

Collapsing onto the bed beside her, he panted, “That was—”

“Amazing!”

“Terrifying.”

“Nuh uh!” she gasped, shooting upright to stare at down at him in open disbelief. “You were not scared!”

Mike just groaned. How couldn’t he have been scared by the light show they’d just been subjected to? Every single one of the lights had started flickering the instant the door swung shut behind him and Ginny. He was lucky he’d managed to snag a pair of sweats and his phones before he and Ginny had bolted back out the door. Hell, he was lucky they hadn’t been locked in that nightmare. “You’re one of those maniacs who likes watching horror movies, aren’t you?”

“Liking scary movies does not make me a maniac,” she argued, scooting herself up so she could crawl under the covers. Which was Mike’s cue to get ready for bed himself.

When he came back out of the bathroom, face re-washed and the scent of Ginny’s lotion fresh in his nose, she was curled up on her side of the bed, totally at ease.

That illusion was shattered, though, when he climbed in, making sure to hug his side of the mattress. He was under no illusions that he’d stay there through the night, but he could pretend while he was awake. Ginny didn’t get the memo, though. Within just a few moments, she rolled closer to him, her hand stretching across the remaining space to seek out his. Her fingers shook, just a little.

“Not so tough now, huh, rookie?” he teased. If only to keep himself from doing something far worse.

“Shut up and go to sleep,” she grumbled, even as her forehead tipped forward to brush against his shoulder.

Mike had clearly demonstrated his readiness to allow Ginny to talk him into whatever she wanted, so it was no surprise that he listened to her yet again. Anyway, there were far worse things to do than fall asleep with Ginny Baker’s fingers tucked into his palm, her breath warming his arm.

San Elijo, CA

A giggle erupted from Ginny’s mouth as she swung around the bannister, nearly losing her grip and tumbling to the ground as she went.

Okay. Maybe, possibly, Ginny might have had one too many drinks this evening. One or four. It was hard to tell. Evelyn made sure to refill her glass every time it was less than half full. Or just in danger of getting there.

Whatever. Who cared? It was New Year’s Eve, drinking too much was basically part of the holiday’s appeal.

And Ginny didn’t have anywhere left go. Well, nowhere that was more than thirty feet away. Such was the perk of arriving early to an Evelyn Sanders Party™ to help set up; first dibs on the Sanders’ beautiful new guest bedroom. Because it wasn’t enough for Evelyn to host New Year’s; she also had to officially welcome everyone to her new home.

It also meant that Ginny was good and ready to appreciate the hell out of the new memory foam mattress Evelyn had been raving about. Three hours of prep on top of the six hours of party small talk would do that to a girl.

With the living room free of party clutter and leftovers neatly wrapped in the refrigerator, Ginny was finally at liberty to trudge up the beautiful hardwood staircase, her strappy sandals dangling off her fingertips. Her skirt swished around her knees, making her giggle even more; it was certainly pretty, and she liked the way it spun out every time she twisted her hips, but God, did she want to crawl into her pajamas and then right into bed, only to awake for Blip’s famous Sunday (Monday, but who cared, it was a new year) morning pancakes and a Bloody Mary with Evelyn.

Hair of the dog, right?

She shuffled down the hall, taking in Evelyn’s exquisite taste—the long runner on the hardwood, the full walls of family photos—as she passed the twins’ rooms and made it to her salvation.

With a grateful sigh she fell against the door, elbow hitting the latch so she could swing right through.

There was no more swinging. When Ginny hit the door, it didn’t budge. Neither did the handle. Not even when she jiggled it angrily.

She stumbled back, more from annoyance and surprise than any lingering champagne in her bloodstream. Incredulous, she stared at the locked door, wondering if someone was seriously getting it on in her beautiful, clean bed. (Evelyn and Blip’s beautiful, clean bed, yes. But it was Ginny’s for the night.) What other reason would someone have to lock themselves in a bedroom at a party?

Jesus. This wasn’t some high school house party, everyone desperate for the chance to get into someone’s pants and a taste of privacy. Even if it came in the form of your classmate’s parents’ bedroom.

Ginny rapped on the door, quick and impatient. She wanted to go to bed. Fuck whoever thought a housewarming was a time to... well. Fuck.

Thankfully, she didn’t have to wait long for an answer.

Thankfully, her first assumption was proven very, very wrong.

Less thankfully, the person who’d locked himself into her room—she’d dibsed it, goddammit!—was none other than Mike Lawson. Dressed for bed.

Or, undressed.

Her assumption from months ago, that Mike didn’t often find himself wearing pajamas, was proved very, very correct. Standing in the doorframe in just his boxers, Mike Lawson was a fucking vision. One Ginny would’ve blamed on all the champagne if she couldn’t feel his breath stirring her hair.

She couldn’t say who was more surprised.

“What’re you doing here?” she demanded before he got the chance to open his mouth. She thought he’d left. Not that she’d been tracking him through the party or anything. She hadn’t needed to. They’d spent a lot of it together, shooting the shit out by the fire pit.

“I’m sleeping here,” he replied, frowning.

“No, you’re not. I am.”

She bounced off his bare arm, braced against the doorjamb. He looked down at her, semi-amused. Which was just fucking unfair. He didn’t get to ignore the fact that he was practically naked. Ginny certainly couldn’t. “Beg to differ there, Baker.”

“My bag’s already in there,” she tried, though Mike didn’t seem moved by reason. “Ev told me I had dibs on the guest room.”

“Well, she obviously didn’t tell her husband because he told me I could crash here, and I intend to.”

“Mike, c’mon,” she whined, trying to push past him into the guest room and her promised memory foam.

“No,” he chuckled, refusing to budge and probably enjoying the feel of her pressing close against him as she tried to get by. Ginny did. Oh, she definitely did. “Go share with one of the twins.”

“They kick.”

“So do you!”

“It’s not like you complained before!”

He blinked, taken aback just enough that Ginny managed to slip around his bulk. Triumphantly she dove for the bed, wriggling up to the pillows. It was only once she got there, and got a glimpse of Mike’s attention trailing up her bare legs, that she realized how it had made her skirt ride up her thighs.

There was just enough booze filtering through her system to make her leave her hem exactly where it was.

She watched Mike swallow and tuck away whatever impulse had crossed his mind for another time. He must have quite the stockpile by now; though she doubted his was anywhere near as impressive as hers. He’d certainly gotten enough practice in the past year.

Ginny appreciated that, appreciated that his willpower was as strong as hers. Just. Sometimes she wished his control were a little less ironclad. It’d give her a good reason to let hers go too.

“You know there’s a perfectly good couch downstairs, right?” he asked, voice steady even if his eyes were darker than usual.

“If it’s so perfect, then you go sleep on it.”

He scowled but dropped the subject. Taking that as a victory, Ginny bounded—or as close to bounding as her slight inebriation would allow—out of the bed and over to the walk in closet where she’d stashed her overnight bag.

Of course, once she’d shut herself in to shimmy out of her filmy skirt and the fitted crop top that Evelyn had basically ordered her to wear tonight—“It might be December, but that’s no reason not to look good, G.”—Mike had to start talking again. Ginny focused on his words rather than the fact that her friend must have known Mike was planning on staying the night too.

(That and the fact that only a door separated a mostly naked Mike from a mostly naked Ginny. Which happened basically every day in the clubhouse, but in the clubhouse Ginny didn’t have a bottomless glass of champagne sloshing through her veins.)

“Go tell mom and dad you had a nightmare,” he called through the door. “They’ll probably let you cuddle if you ask nicely.”

Her nose wrinkled, tongue peeking out as she gagged silently. She pulled on her oversized t shirt and shorts quickly and flung open the door to make sure he cold appreciate her reaction. He rolled his eyes, but he was grinning, propped against the headboard and looking completely cozy. Even if he had pulled on a t-shirt. “Don’t be gross!”

“You’re basically the third Sanders kid. They could claim you as a dependent if they wanted.”

“That’s not how taxes work,” she pouted, crossing to the bed and diving under the covers before she could decide she liked the way he was looking at her too much to do it at all..

“Ah, right. Tell me all about what a tax expert you are, rookie. How many years have you been paying them, again?”

“Like you’ve done your own taxes in the past decade.”

“I’ve got a guy for that,” he replied airily before looking down at her and frowning. “Are you trying to build a pillow barricade?”

Ginny paused in her construction efforts. That was exactly what she was doing. But Mike sounded so fucking amused by her, like he wasn’t worried about sharing a bed with her. About what he might do in his sleep, when his defenses were lowered.

Like it didn’t matter that the last time they did this, they woke up twined around one another, breath mingling. Sure, she’d put her hand in his before they’d fallen asleep, but that didn’t mean she’d expected to wake up to... that.

Not that she hated it. Not even close. If she’d hated it, this wouldn’t be a problem.

“No,” she replied, hating the upward lilt of the word.

He huffed. “So you’re telling me you need all of these to sleep? Jesus, how many are there?”

“Just four,” she returned. Gotta love Ev and her throw pillows. “Unless you’ve got another.”

“Nuh uh, Baker!” he laughed, fending off her grasping hands. The fact that both of her wrists, even just for a moment, fit in the circle of his grip shouldn’t have made her heart pound, but this was where Ginny was at this point. She’d learned to stop questioning every reaction Mike Lawson elicited from her; it just saved time. “Leave this one alone, it’s mine!”

“It’s my room.”

“I beg to differ.”

“My stuff was in here first.”

“Well, my ass was in here first. You snooze you lose.”

“You’re a child.”

He laughed, sudden and loud. Despite herself, Ginny found herself grinning too. “Don’t think anyone’d believe that. Not compared to you.”

“Oh, fuck off,” she bit out, good mood evaporating. Clutching a pillow to her chest, Ginny turned, putting her back to her wall of cushions and, more importantly, Mike.

He groaned, slouching down and turning off the bedside lamp. Only once they were in the dark—which was really becoming a theme in their relationship, maybe because it was easier to admit to some things in the dark—did he ask, “What’d I do?”

“Nothing.”

“Aw, c’mon. I know I put my foot in it, just tell me how so I know what I’m gonna apologize for.”

Ginny stewed for a moment, feeling the slight dip of the mattress as Mike shifted, too close and too far away all at once.

“‘M not a little kid,” she finally said, hating the fact that she could hear the pout on her lips. “I’m younger than— I’m young, yeah. But that doesn’t make me some helpless, little—”

“Ginny,” he breathed, making her breath catch. She loved the way her name sounded out of his mouth, almost as much as she loved— Oh, boy. Lying in a bed with Mike Lawson was not the time to let that realization loose. “I know. I know you’re not helpless. I definitely know you’re a grown up.”

It was the rough edge to his voice that made the knot of worry begin to loosen in Ginny’s chest. She was always aware of how much older Mike was than her, how much more experienced he was. It was hard not to when she could remember his poster hanging above her bed, his rookie card tucked into her school planner. It was all too easy to feel like an annoying tagalong, yet another rookie he had to hand hold through the majors.

“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel anything different.”

Ginny sighed and rolled back over. Batting the wall of pillows away until she had a clear view of his face in the dim light of the room, she replied, “You didn’t.” Hesitantly, she reached out and traced over the lines of his face, seeing them in her memory as much as the scant glow from the windows.

The shadows filling in the furrows of his brow lightened with nowhere to pool. He leaned into her palm, just for a second, but long enough for Ginny to wish for the thousandth time tonight that midnight had found her and Mike somewhere dark and private rather than the middle of the Sanders’ living room, surrounded by team and strangers alike. All she’d gotten was a dry brush of his lips against her cheek, the rasp of his beard lingering just a split second longer than his mouth.

And, to be fair, she did have this.

Mike’s hand bridged the distance and settled on her elbow, warm and heavy and perfect in all the dark privacy she could ever ask for. Even if neither of them were prepared to cross any other bridges tonight, she’d get to wake up in the morning, the first of 2018, right next to him. Maybe even in his arms.

As Ginny’s eyes drifted closed, she figured that this wasn’t such a bad way to kick off the new year.

Seattle, WA

If, three years ago—the last time he’d played in Seattle, coincidentally—someone had told Mike that he’d willingly miss a night out after a huge win, he would’ve assumed that he had a sure thing with the hotel concierge. Or both of the hotel concierges.

Or that Rachel had come back.

Not so. And he didn’t even mind the change.

Maybe because three years ago, he had yet to meet Ginny Baker.

Now that he had, he couldn’t say he loved the fact that he found himself sitting on the floor of a hotel room, one couch cushion graciously ceded in deference to his elderly man’s back, watching rom coms from the 90s.

He did love the company, though.

“Were you even alive when this movie came out?” he asked, pretty sure of the answer and telling himself not to wince when he heard it anyway.

From her blanket cocoon, Ginny sniffed. Then coughed for a solid twenty seconds, a hacking, grating sound that made his own throat hurt. Finally, she rasped, “I don’t know.”

Mike was already moving before she got the words out, filling up yet another glass of water and tearing open another bag of cough drops. She took the water, though her nose wrinkled at the lozenges.

Hey, it wasn’t his fault she’d already blown through all the cherry ones. Although, he’d already made a mental note to ask a clubbie to run out for more tomorrow.

“Take the cough drop, Baker,” he urged, in spite of the way she whined in the back of her throat. “You’re gonna cough out a lung otherwise.”

Grudgingly, she followed his instructions. If it was going to make her this compliant, Mike would have to find a way to keep her sick all the time.

Not really. He had a feeling he’d miss her back talk. He already did, if he was being honest.

Ginny’d been fighting off this cold for what felt like weeks, but no amount of Emergen-C was going to keep it at bay forever. No matter what she told Al or the trainers or even Mike himself.

It wasn’t until they landed at Sea-Tac airport, though, that her immune system finally folded.

Thank God she wasn’t slated to pitch until their next series; Mike would’ve pitied the poor schmuck who had to break it to her she was going on the DL, even just for ten days, until she recovered.

If he didn’t feel so bad for her, Mike would be more than a little fascinated. He’d never seen Ginny sick like this; there was so much to learn about Ginny Baker the invalid.

She liked cherry cough drops and said regular tissues irritated her nose. She wasn’t a bad patient per se, but only because she didn’t quite believe she was a patient at all. If anyone would let her, she’d still try to get her daily runs in, even if she wheezed and coughed through the entire thing. She was basically constitutionally opposed to naps—which Mike could not wrap his head around—no matter how many times her eyelids drooped through reruns of The View. Grilled cheese with tomato soup was her go-to comfort food, though her normally voracious appetite fell off almost completely.

She was extremely... tactile.

Mike wasn’t even sure she realized she was doing it. So many of her other defenses were down—words spilling without a second thought from her mouth, face twisting into ridiculous expressions because there were no cameras to capture them—it only made sense others were affected as well.

The pertinent part of which was not the fact that Ginny probably wanted this kind of physical affection all the time but never asked for it. All that mattered was that she wanted it now.

The one game she’d managed to sit through in the dugout, too tired to hold herself upright, she’d drooped against whoever was closest. Which, yes, generally happened to be Mike, especially after he saw the way Livan encouraged her to drape herself all over his smirking ass. Anyway, Livan had a game to catch; Mike didn’t. It only made sense that he take over Ginny duty.

A duty that, once he had it, he had no intention of giving up.

Which was why he reseated himself on the ground, leaning against the couch Ginny sprawled on, and tried not to groan as her fingers began spearing through his hair again.

Tactile, remember?

This wasn’t the first time she’d done this—even when she was healthy she’d been known to play with his hair, if only to tug despairingly at his beard—and maybe one day Mike would stop feeling a funny little jump in his stomach every time her nails scratched against his scalp. That day had yet to come.

If this was what Ginny needed to feel better, though, who was he to argue?

Yeah, he definitely wasn’t going to argue.

Unless she stopped. He’d definitely work up an argument against that.

Mike turned back to Ginny the second her fingers disappeared from his hair.

“You okay?” he checked, looking her over, but seeing nothing amiss. Nothing new, at least. She was still a bit glassy-eyed, cheeks verging on hollow in spite of the fever flush. At least she was lucid. She’d gotten pretty loopy after her first hit of codeine cough syrup.

“’M fine. Just,” she tugged on his shoulder, “c’mere.”

“Where?” Mike eyed her sleepy sprawl and the scant cushion space left.

Ginny huffed and rolled to her side, pressing flat against the back of the couch. She patted the space in front of her, eyes already drifting shut again.

Mike was torn. It was one thing to fall asleep with Ginny all the way across a King size mattress, but to do it pressed together on a too-short hotel room couch, seemed a step too far.

Which, to be clear, didn’t mean he wasn’t gonna do it.

Heaving himself up, Mike slid, not nearly tentative enough for his sense of self-preservation, onto the couch cushions. He stretched out beside Ginny and, half-asleep, she automatically burrowed into him.

He had to let out a heavy exhale when her nose nuzzled unerringly against his neck, arm banding around his stomach. Ginny sighed too and only had to wheeze a little bit around the crud in her throat. When Mike chanced a look down at her, her eyes were barely open, though they were trained faithfully on the screen as Bill Pullman discovered Meg Ryan hiding in a closet.

Mike wasn’t sure how long it took, but before much more of the movie passed, Ginny’s knee crept over his. If that had been the end of it, he probably could have taken it. Of course, it wasn’t. She wriggled and huffed and sat up to maneuver him into position, only flopping back to his side like there was nothing strange at all about snuggling against him once his arm was tucked around her back to cradle her close.

Maybe in her fever-addled mind, nothing was.

To Mike though, it was a struggle not to go completely tense, taut as a high wire, at the feeling of Ginny Baker’s form pressed so closely to his.

They’d been close before, in huddles and victory hugs, but nothing this intimate. At least not while they were both awake. Sure, maybe he’d woken up a solid half hour before her this past New Year’s to find her attempt at a pillow fort completely decimated by their nighttime migrations. Ginny soft and still asleep was something he couldn’t bear to end before he had to; he was only human, okay?

Still, he managed to keep his cool in the present.

If anything, he went completely boneless the second Ginny sighed, soft and sweet against the collar of his flannel. Her arm tightened around him as she settled against his side.

“Thanks,” she murmured, “for taking care of me.”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She hummed at that, broken up by a jaw-cracking yawn.

“Go to sleep, Gin,” he murmured, only using her nickname because he was pretty sure she wouldn’t remember it and do her best to distance herself when morning rolled around.

“Can’t,” she whispered back.

“Why not?”

“‘M watching the movie,” she said, even though her face was almost completely buried in his chest.

Feeling warmth wash through him, and not just from Ginny’s shared body heat, he told her, “I’ll tell you how it ends.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah,” Mike breathed. “I promise.”

She didn’t put up any more arguments. She tucked her cheek against his chest, wrapped her fingers into his shirt, like she wanted to make sure he wouldn’t float away in her sleep, and closed her eyes.

Within a few minutes, her breathing had evened out. Even with the slight wheeze, she looked peaceful.

Mike still waited another few minutes before leaning down to press a kiss to her sweat-damp hair. Her eyelashes didn’t even flutter. He searched, one handed, for the remote and eventually managed to turn off the TV well before Tom Hanks raced to the Empire State Building searching for his son. He’d seen it all before, he could still tell Ginny the story when she woke up.

In the dark, Ginny’s chest rising and falling against his, Mike told himself it was in both his best interest to get up. It’d probably be better if Ginny got some sleep in a real bed, but she could and would sleep anywhere sufficiently horizontal. Mike, on the other hand, had grown well past the age that a few stolen hours on a hotel sofa were sufficient for his mind or body. If he didn’t want to give up another start to Livan, he better get his ass to an actual mattress.

He told himself this, but he didn’t listen.

Instead, Mike closed his eyes and resigned himself to waking up with an aching back.

If it meant waking up with Ginny, it was a price he was more than willing to pay.

New York, NY

This couldn’t be happening. Seriously. This could not be happening.

First, and feeling like her heart was about to beat out of her chest and her breath was coming too fast and not fast enough at all, Ginny patted herself down again, like her room key might magically appear.

No such luck.

Next, she spun in place again, turning back to face her door which remained as stubbornly shut and locked as it had been since she first came to herself at the sound of that same door latching shut, leaving her key, her phone, and most of her clothes behind it.

Last, she peered down the hall towards the stupid courtesy phone. Wasn’t the point of those to have someone pick up no matter what time it was? Apparently this hotel had not gotten that memo.

Tears began to prickle at the back of her eyes, but Ginny didn’t have time for that. She didn’t have time for crying or panic or fear. Not when she needed to figure out a way back into her room before anyone could find her like this.

Mostly undressed and stranded in a hotel hallway.

Not, she thought a little sourly, that a sports bra and shorts were inappropriate as sleepwear. There was nothing wrong with wearing what she was comfortable in to sleep. It wasn’t like she asked to be stuck out here.

Jesus. It would be just her luck if someone caught sight of her and decided this was the perfect opportunity to turn paparazzo.

Naturally, then, the sound of footsteps, hushed on the thick carpeting, began to approach. It made Ginny want to throw up. Just a little.

Hunching her shoulders towards her ears, she studied the card reader of her door, praying a miracle would let her in before some stranger recognized her. Or that natural embarrassment would carry them forward without addressing her.

It was hard to tell whether or not her prayers were answered.

“Rook?”

Ginny turned, arms crossed defensively over her stomach even at the familiar tone of her captain.

He looked a little bleary, like he’d been asleep for a bit, but was woken halfway through a REM cycle. Disheveled and more than a little grumpy, he squinted at her, like he wasn’t sure if he was imagining things or not.

Before Mike got a chance to question her, Ginny rushed to ask, “What’re you doing up?”

He shook the empty bucket in his hand, which she’d somehow completely overlooked in her defensive awkwardness. “Needed more ice for my knees. Why’re you out here?”

“Um. I got locked out.”

“Oh.” The silence stretched out for a long beat, making Ginny want to melt into the floor. “Well, come on, then.”

Whether it was the fact that he didn’t press her further or Ginny just needed the comfort that even a sleepy, slightly addled Mike Lawson could provide, she didn’t know, but Ginny followed him back to his room.

He was about to close the door, follow her in when she checked, “Don’t you need more ice?”

He seemed confused for a second before shaking himself. “Yeah. I’ll, uh, be back in a sec.”

True to his word, he was back in flash. Before Ginny’d even had time to do much more than drift further inside his room, arms still crossed over her stomach.

“Are you cold? You look cold.”

Ginny wasn’t—though her shoulders were shaking, no doubt a side effect of all that adrenaline coursing through her veins—but she didn’t argue. It was probably better for everyone involved if she weren’t half naked in Mike’s presence for much longer.

There was no telling what either of them would do.

Without much fuss, Mike rummaged in his suitcase and produced one of his endless flannels, the one he’d worn yesterday that brought out the green flecks in his eyes.

“You want sweats?” he offered. “I’ve got—”

“This is fine,” Ginny replied, balling the too-long sleeves in her hands and suppressing the urge to tuck her nose into the collar and inhale his lingering cologne. The whiffs she already got were doing wonders.

“Okay.”

Ginny shifted. Why was this so strange? It was hardly the first time they’d shown up in each other’s room in the middle of the night, which was a little ridiculous now that she thought about it. “D’you need— Your knees?”

“Right.” Mike sank to the bed and divvied up his haul between two separate bags. Even half-asleep, he was quick and efficient, wrapping the plastic bags in their own towels and settling them on his battered joints. Extra battered today; he’d taken two hits at the plate this afternoon. Only then did he flick his gaze back to Ginny, more alert now. “So, what happened?”

“Sometimes,” she trailed off, feeling embarrassment crawl up her throat. Mike waited her out, eyes assessing and cool, but not judgmental. If she didn’t want to answer, he wouldn’t push her. He’d just bundle her into bed and make sure she got the most of the remaining hours of her sleep. It was that willingness to roll with what she’d give him, no questions asked, that made her say, “Sometimes I sleepwalk. When I’m stressed or whatever. It’s not a big deal. It hasn’t happened in a while, but yeah. That’s what happened.”

Mike took this in, considering. He didn’t press her on the fact that he’d found her on the verge of a panic attack, which was basically the opposite of “not a big deal.” He didn’t push for details or funny stories the way almost anyone else might. He just turned her words over in his head, thinking them over. “Okay. Do you want to go back to your room? Or is it better to stay with someone?”

Ginny honestly didn’t know. Which didn’t stop her from asking, “Do you mind if I stay?”

He didn’t even bother to think this over. “Nope.” He dumped his makeshift icepacks back in the bucket and stiffly pushed himself to his feet with a little groan. “But if you’re looking for my sparkling it, you’re out of luck. I’m going back to bed. Today took it out of me.”

The fact that he even admitted to that, made Ginny’s heart swell. Mike was so insistent on bearing all his pain all on his own, getting him to share even a sliver of how tired and beat down nearly two decades in the major had made him, felt like everything.

She made no argument there, crossing to the unrumpled side of the bed and climbing in.

As exhausted as they both were, neither of them could seem to find sleep. They each shifted, searching for a comfortable position, and entirely too aware of the person lying beside them.

Not that she didn’t notice him out of bed too.

Ginny wasn’t sure what it was about the last few weeks, but she couldn’t turn off her Lawson-Sense. Maybe it was the fact that they both knew he was hanging it all up once the season was over. Maybe it was just that three years spent denying and ignoring their feelings had worn down her defenses. Whatever it was, there was something inside her that was constantly conscious of where Mike was in relation to her.

Usually, it was not nearly close enough. Right now she couldn’t say that, could she?

“Did you know you sleep diagonally across the bed?” he asked, abrupt, into the darkness.

“What?” she laughed. “No, I don’t.”

“Uh, yeah. You do. I think I’ve slept with you often enough to say that you do.”

Ginny inhaled, sharp and surprised. They’d never actually talked about the fact that they did this, kept doing this. Each time it happened, it was like they were pretending it was the first.

Even if all the times that came before wouldn’t stop running through her head. Even if it was easier now to fall asleep by pretending that Mike was in bed next to her, his steady presence soothing her more effectively than any breathing exercise in the book.

“You haven’t complained before,” she said, a little shaky.

“Not a complaint,” he returned, “just an observation.”

“Funny time to bring it up,” she muttered.

It was Mike’s turn to laugh. “Not really,” he chuckled, which, she supposed was fair enough.

“Well, I bet you didn’t know that you always push your feet against mine.”

“That’s all you, Baker.”

“Is not!”

“It is,” he insisted. “You’ve got the coldest toes I’ve ever felt and you always use me as your personal warming brick.”

“Because you’re like a personal space heater. I’ve never slept with someone so hot.”

In the literal sense, it was true. In the metaphoric sense, Ginny could only imagine that it would be.

Still, she swallowed as the implication of her words settled over them, one more blanket on the bed. A flush swept over her cheeks and down her chest, making her feel a little lightheaded, dizzy at all the possibilities spinning out before them.

It wasn’t until Mike snorted, though, that Ginny let herself admit it was actually pretty funny. Embarrassing, but funny.

“You still haven’t,” he muttered.

Under the cover of darkness and the thick duvet, Ginny could feel him shift.

She was still surprised, though, when his pinky brushed up against hers. It felt like she was always the one reaching out first; which was exactly what she’d asked of him. Her breath was in her throat already, but Mike didn’t stop there. His hand covered hers for a breath before twisting and insinuating itself between the mattress and her palm, threading his fingers through hers. With a light tug, he pulled her closer. Ginny went, more than willing.

Settled close, she tipped her face up to him. In the dim glow from the alarm clock, Ginny could make out the shine of his eyes and wet lips. He must’ve just licked them. She wanted desperately to know what they tasted like. By the end of the season, officially Mike’s last, she told herself she would.

“This okay?” he asked, squeezing her fingers like there was something else he might mean.

“Yeah,” she breathed, squeezing back a silent reply. “For now.”

“For now,” he echoed.

Snuggling into her pillow—and if it brought her shoulder right up to Mike’s, her feet tucked under his ankle, that was pure coincidence—Ginny sighed in contentment, eyes drifting shut.

La Jolla, CA

There were things, Mike reflected, that you could really only learn about a person by sleeping in the same bed as them. And not just what side of the mattress they preferred or whether or not they snored or talked in their sleep. Little things: like the sounds they made as they stretched out between the sheets for the first time, or how many times they needed to roll over before truly falling asleep. Silly things: like how much they drooled onto their pillow or what embarrassing pajama sets they owned. Ordinary things: like how many blankets they liked or whether they needed to read before falling asleep.

And while Mike knew the answer to every single one of those questions when it came to Ginny Baker, all of that trivia was nothing compared to the knowledge of what it was like to wake up with her wrapped in his arms and not need to pull away.

This morning, he didn’t have to pull his arms away from her waist, worrying that his every move would walk her up and send them spiraling into a storm of awkwardness that could ruin them. He didn’t have to take one last inhale of the shampoo in her hair and wrench himself away.

For the first time, he and Ginny had gone to bed with one another not because of some outside influence, but just because they wanted to. Because they wanted to drift together in the night and wake up twined together. Because they’d waited long enough.

Ginny’s breath puffed steadily against his neck, her arms banded around his middle, and a leg hitched across his thighs. It was like, even asleep, she couldn’t bear to be too far from him.

Mike could definitely sympathize.

“Gin,” he murmured, too soft to wake her because he wanted more chance to study her like this. Face slack with sleep, peaceful in a way she wasn’t even when she’d worked herself into a groove at the rubber. Her high brow unwrinkled, a smooth expanse of brown skin over dark eyebrows and the inky curve of eyelashes. Her straight, proud nose, set over plush mouth, just begging for a kiss.

Who was he to argue?

He brushed a feather-light kiss over first the tip of her nose, the apples of her cheeks, and finally the sweet petals of her lips.

“Sweetheart,” Mike whispered, right into her skin. A thrill shot through him. How many times had he wanted to call her that, and now he could? He couldn’t be her teammate forever, but this? This, he could do as long as he lived.

Ginny stirred, brown eyes blinking open even if the pull of sleep still glazed them over. She smiled as she registered his proximity, stretching against him with a languid sigh.

“‘M I?” she slurred, tucking her face into his neck either to escape the early morning sun or to breathe him in.

“Are you what?” he managed as her lips began to explore the border between his beard and bare skin.

“Your sweetheart.”

All the breath in Mike’s body escaped him at that question, far too astute for someone who’d only just woken up. He swallowed, felt the way it pushed his throat against Ginny’s mouth and her tongue darted out for a taste.

“If you want.”

She hummed her assent. She did want. “But what about you? What do you want?”

Mike wasn’t sure he wanted to have this conversation if he couldn’t look Ginny in the eyes. Even so, he was reluctant to part her from her task and the way every brush of her lips against his skin sent want shuddering straight to his belly.

Nonetheless, he shifted away from her, catching her chin in one hand when Ginny made to close the gap. He’d gotten enough of that—and so much more—last night to at least slake his thirst. He could hold off for now, though Mike doubted he’d be able to last long. There was no such thing as enough kisses from Ginny Baker.

Fingers curled under her jaw, he lifted her chin until her eyes met his.

Lit up by the mellow gold of the morning sun, Ginny’s eyes were flecked with amber and honey, a glittering complement to the usual dark chestnut. It was the hope, though, that Mike saw shimmering there that made his voice steady as he admitted to his own.

“I want you to be more than that. I want you to be everything, Gin. My sweetheart and best friend and confidante. It already feels like you are."

It took her a few moments to gather herself enough to speak. Her eyes continued to shine, bright and joyful and so, so beautiful. “It feels like you’re mine too.”

“I am,” he promised, “In every way that counts, I’m yours.”

This time, when Ginny leaned up to kiss him, he didn’t stop her. He didn’t stop her as her lips parted beneath his and her tongue stroked into his mouth. He didn’t stop her when she wrapped her legs around his hips and rolled them over. He didn’t stop her even when she pulled away and sat up, the golden glow of the sun bestowing her with an actual halo.

Whatever Ginny wanted, Mike had no intention of stopping her.

Why would he? He wanted everything she had to offer.

And finally, after years of waiting, it was his to have.

#Bawson #Bawson fic #pitch #pitch fic #who'd care to guess how long #i've been tinkering with this #?#but ahhhh it's done

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allenmendezsr · 4 years ago

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Elite Swing Mechanics

New Post has been published on https://autotraffixpro.app/allenmendezsr/elite-swing-mechanics/

Elite Swing Mechanics

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In January 2012, Bobby Tewksbary worked with a professional player who is friends with Josh Donaldson. This player really liked the information Bobby shared and told Josh about the swing mechanics they had worked on. Josh began to implement the information into his swing and has transformed himself into a MLB All-Star and perennial MVP candidate.

In July of 2015, Josh asked Bobby to throw to him in the MLB Home Run Derby as a thank you for helping advance his career. As he said, “He’s one of the first guys who sort of broke down swings with me before, I guess you could say, I became good.”

Learning about the swing is incredibly valuable for players (and for coaches!) When you understand the movements of the body and how the bat path works, it helps you to work with greater intent and to make adjustments faster. This information can change your career!

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Elite Swing Mechanics Book + Instructional Videos

120+ page Elite Swing Mechanics PDF eBook

Video instruction of keys points and drills with over 2 hours of total video instruction

Audio version of book so you can listen to the book on your iPod/iTunes

14-day follow up email program walking you through the information with videos and articles

Lifetime Updates

Bonus Articles & Exclusive Offers

Price: $49.99

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Take Advantage of This Opportunity!

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The Elite Swing Mechanics Book + Instructional Videos will teach you about the different types of swings (and most importantly how the best hitters swing) so you can identify your mistakes and start working toward your best swing! The greatest hitters in the history of the baseball and softball use different swing styles but they all swing with the same swing mechanics. Unfortunately, the vast majority of hitters and coaches (my best guess is greater than 90%) are never even exposed to these “Elite Swing Mechanics.”

If you are using swing cues like…

Stay back.

Get your foot down early.

Keep your head still.

Take your hands/knob to the ball.

Be quicker.

Stay short.

Squish the bug.

… then there’s a huge chance you are going down the wrong path with mechanics. Don’t waste another day working on a swing that isn’t helping you become your best.

This is exactly what I have been searching for the last couple of years. This information you have studied is what is really going on out there. I have heard so much conventional wisdom over the course of my career and it is all just noise. What is being taught is not biomechanically what is really going on. You are a pioneer man, this is what is being missed. Metal bats and hitting coaches teaching the wrong crap is why this pattern you have come up with isn’t more prevalent. I’m glad I found your information man, it is awesome. I applaud everything you have done man, it is incredible. – Current pro player on 40-man roster with MLB Organization

Bobby, this is really good and I mean really good. – Ryan H. from Seattle

Tewks, great work on the eBook and videos!! Very professionally done with excellent information. Good stuff my friend. Have (my son) reading it now & will be moving it to the cage tonight or tomorrow when he’s done going through all of the info. By far one of the best works on hitting out there….you done good. – Dave M. from California

Price: $49.99

Elite Swing Mechanics Book + Instructional Video Description

The Elite Swing Mechanics eBook is a combination of a 120+ page book, a new web-based section with 30+ pages worth of content and video, over 2 hours of video instruction and a 14-day email program designed to teach and develop elite swing mechanics for baseball and softball players.

This is the foundation of information I use with my pro clients and with all of the college, high school and youth hitters (baseball AND softball) I work with.

Elite hitters do not swing the way most hitters are taught how to hit. It is time for that to change. Learn how the best hitters of all time create a mechanical advantage and learn drills so you can begin to develop this advantage in your own swing or with your hitters.

What you get:

120+ page PDF eBook

Video instruction of keys points and drills with over 2 hours of total video instruction

Audio version of book so you can listen to the book on your iPod/iTunes

14-day follow up email program walking you through the information with videos and articles

Lifetime Updates

Bonus Articles & Exclusive Offers

This is a digital product. After you complete your purchase, you will get immediate access to all Book file downloads, all video, all Book Updates and all bonus content. You will receive an emailed receipt and an email notification for your subscription to our email list for the follow-up program. (You will need to confirm your subscription for emails to begin.)

Step 1: Elite Swing Mechanics Book Content (PDF)

The information in the eBook is as boiled down as possible. My goal with the ebook was to be as concise and objective as I could be. I wanted to define and describe, not address every possible variation and swing error you will encounter. If I did this, the book would be MASSIVE and it would be overwhelming. The book is the foundation, the fundamentals of the swing. By understanding the information in the ebook, you will start to see how your specific problems can be addressed.

Step 2: Elite Swing Mechanics Audio Version (mp3)

The eBook audio version is great for people who don’t have time to sit down and read. Download the audio files, upload them to your iPod/iPhone or other MP3 player and listen when you are driving, when you work out or when you are traveling to a game. (You can even burn the files to a CD to listen that way if it is easier for you.

Step 3: Instructional Video Series – Over 2 hours of Instructional Video!

The Instructional Video Series provide a visual to the more detailed/complicated sections of the book as well as the drills. The video will walk you through concepts and really show the movement explained in the written portion of the book.

Step 4: 14-Day Email Follow-Up Campaign

After your purchase, you will be signed up for our email list. The email follow-up will walk you through different aspects of the information and dig into more specific detail involving the WHY behind different concepts. This is a critical element of the “experience” that this book is set to achieve.

Step 5: Continued Research & Development

I work with hitters every day and study video extensively. From time to time, I will come across a situation that I will feel is something valuable to share. When this inspiration strikes, I will create a post that addresses specific problems.

My hope with this aspect of the book is that those who purchase the book will ask questions and send me video. I am constantly amazed at the number of swing variations I see. The more I can offer specific solutions to specific problems, the more everybody learns! (So send me questions and video at [email protected]!)

I don’t have time tables for this information. When it happens, you will get an email with a link to the information.

Step 6: Updates & Lifetime Access

You only have to buy this once! Because this is a digital product, I can easily make updates and add content over time. When this happens, I will email you and tell you what is new. Then you can log in and either download the new files or review the new content online.

Elite Swing Mechanics Book + Instructional Videos:

Price: $49.99

I was recently listening to a podcast about ebooks and the author made a statement that really struck me. He said,

“I’m not selling a book. I’m selling very specialized knowledge.”

Technology available to authors right now allows a packaging of content and media that creates a unique sharing of information as compared to just buying a paper or digital book. My goal with this “eBook” format is to use written, audio and video content to deliver information and to create a learning experience. I don’t want this to feel like you are just buying a book. I want to share some very specialized knowledge about swing mechanics and develop an ongoing learning experience!

When you make the purchase, your account at TewksHitting.com have access to all downloadable files and access to all “eBook-owner only” areas at TewksHitting.com

You can download the content and will have access to all future updates.

After you make a payment, you will be take to a page with a form to complete to subscribe to the eBook owner email list. You will need to confirm your subscription! After you complete the form, the confirmation email be from “[email protected]” with the subject “Confirm your subscription.” will arrive almost immediately.

If you already have an account at TewksHitting.com, log in before trying to purchase.

Online Payment Option: PayPal

Credit Card Options: Visa, MasterCard, American Express, Discover, Diners Club, EnRoute, JCB

Elite Swing Mechanics Book + Instructional Videos:

Price: $49.99

I wouldn’t put this product out if I didn’t believe in it. It is what I believe and what I teach.

Ultimately, every hitter needs to go through a process to develop their mechanics and approach at the plate. This process will involve failure and commitment.

I feel I’ve done my due diligence and have invested a lot of time and energy to explain WHY and not just throw stuff out there.

If you purchase this product and don’t think it is valuable, let me know. I’ll give you a refund. (Click here for details.)

Thank you,

Bobby Tewksbary

Elite Swing Mechanics Book + Instructional Videos:

Price: $49.99

ClickBank is the retailer of products on this site. CLICKBANK® is a registered trademark of Click Sales, Inc., a Delaware corporation located at 917 S. Lusk Street, Suite 200, Boise Idaho, 83706, USA and used by permission. ClickBank’s role as retailer does not constitute an endorsement, approval or review of these products or any claim, statement or opinion used in promotion of these products.

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steves3511 · 7 years ago

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So you want to convention

I am going to show you all the supplies you need to rock out your next Comic Convention

At my last convention I attended I was asked about writing a blog post about how I prepare for shows and the essentials I bring with me. Since I have been thinking of writing a post on this very topic for a while I thought that this was the kick in the pants I needed to finally start writing .This is my third year attending and exhibiting at shows, my second year exhibiting full time as my primary source of income. Over those three years and almost 30 shows I have exhibited at I have learned a lot about booth setup, packaging, and selling and interacting with customers; and I want to share with you those insights I have learned through trial and error so you wont make those same early mis-steps and hopefully help you have the best show you can.

First things first, you decide to test out selling at comic conventions and you are like "San Diego Comic Con here I come!" Hold your horses there brother; I like many artists strongly recommend starting with your local shows, its hard enough making money at your first show, you don't want to add to that by having to pay for travel and hotel costs as well. If you are lucky like me and have several friends and family scattered around the country offering a free couch to sleep on it certainly makes things easier, thought that airfare is still pretty killer (baggage fees grrr). Make things easy for yourself start local and expand out from there.

So you signed up for your local show, now what? First and most importantly if you are an artist in artist alley you are going to need prints of your work. At shows and online I often get asked where I get my prints from, or if I print myself from home (hell no!!). Having good prints is really important, it doesn't matter how good your image looks on a computer screen, if it doesn't look good as a print nobody will buy it. I get my prints from El-Co Colorlabs in NJ (dont worry non New Jersians they ship anywhere) The prints are more expensive than other places, though I will argue those cheaper prints do not come close to matching the quality of el-co, and I will happily pay a little more for that higher quality. (I challenge anyone to find a place that has better quality at a cheaper price)

High quality photo luster prints for an affordable price, what do you not love about that?

If you are looking to start out slow before splurging on more expensive prints and save a few bucks at the start I know several people get prints from MGX copy and have had pretty good results. They are a great beginner bang for your buck printer.

The next big thing you will need is some sort of backdrop. From experience a lot of the people walking around shows do not look down at the tables, they are all looking up looking for something to catch their eye. It is really important to have your work up high so people can see it, and to see it from far away. Every show I have people come up to me saying “OMG I saw your work from way down there and I just had to come over”

For my backdrop I use a photo backdrop display. When looking for displays there are a bunch that are cheap and affordable, I strongly recommend getting the most expensive display you can afford. Those cheap light weight displays are on the flimsy side and may not support your work, try to find one that looks like it is made out of a thicker sturdier metal and preferably says it can support 30-40lbs before bowing. This is the display I have

Ravelli ABSL Photo Video Backdrop Stand

This is is a similar setup to mine, sturdy enough to hold your prints and also easy to travel with

Now that you have your display you need something to drape over it and a way to hang your prints. At my very first show my booth neighbor and super awesome and fellow dragon aficionado Tyler Walpole had a very similar setup to this. It looked so easy for him to set up/tear down his display, the display also went up high so people could see it from across the hall. Watching him pull customers in and rake in sales I decided then and there to follow in his footsteps. (note, walk around the show when you can, taking notes on other artists setups and ask them questions, everyone I have met has been happy to answer questions and give helpful advice, you can learn a TON from from your fellow exhibiting artists)

What I do is drape a large sheet of felt fabric (Joe Ann’s) over the display and use clamps to hold it in place. To attach the prints to the fabric I tape the edges of my prints to a backing board and then place velcro to the back of the backing board, the backing board and the print then “sticks” to the fabric and hangs in place.

Heavy Duty Muslin Clamps

I place velcro on the 4 corners and then tape the corners of the print to the backing board. The print stays flat against the board and to hang it you just "stick it" to the fabric. Super easy.

I do recommend having larger prints behind you so it is easier for people to see, these larger prints are my fancy 18X24 limited edition prints. I use these both as large display prints and also as a higher premium item for customers. If someone loves your work and has cash to spend and you only have $20 prints then all you are going to get from that customer is $20.

Okay, now that the backdrop is taken care of now I need a way to display my prints on my table. First I have some black fabric (Also from Joe Ann’s) draped over the table to make it look all fancy. I then lay out these foldable display stands, one for each print. Have as many of your prints out on the table as possible. From experience it is hard to convince people to flip through a print bin/book, so the more stuff you have out on the table the easier it is for people to see and look at.

You can see I have all of my prints laid out in a line so its easy for people to see, you never know what print is going to catch someones eye, solve that by having all of them out.

Gibson Holders 6 DCWB Adjustable Wire Display Easels

If you cant fit everything on the table a good solution for a print bin I have found is this foldable bin I found at Target. Its the perfect size to hold 11X17 or my 12X18 prints, and its light weight for easy storage and transport.

For the display prints on the table you need some way to protect them and make them stand up. I currently bag and back all of my prints. I get re-sealable bags from clearbags.com and the backing boards from Uline (if you don't want 400 backing boards to start you can find them on amazon and elsewhere in packages of 20 or so) To start out you really only need the backing boards for the display prints; later on as you get busier and want to save precious time during the checkout process you can pre bag all of your prints before the show. Dont skimp on the bags though, you need some sort of protective bag for people who purchase prints, otherwise they may not buy for fear of damaging them.

In addition to my prints I also sell tabletop gaming playmats or otherwise known as gigantic mouse pads of my work. If you are a fantasy artist like me this is a great product to have, gamers love collecting mats that have cool art on them. Also it helps me stand out from everyone else at the Con, I am usually the only one who has them and its a great option for people who have run out of wall space with all of their prints. You have no idea how many times at a show I get “holy crap, he has game mats…I need a game mat” Just beware, these things are super heavy and add a lot of weight to your setup. If yo are interested in trying out some game mats I strongly recommend Drew Baker, I and many of my friends use him for his mats.

If you do fantasy art, Game mats are a great way to stand out from the crowd and offer something no-one else has

Okay now that you have your super awesome setup, you just sit back and watch people start flooding to your table buying up everything you have….right? Unfortunately not quite. No matter how good your work is you still need to sell it to people. Over the course of a weekend I maybe get 3 or 4 people total that just walk up and say “I need to buy this, how much” every other person that buys from me I have to sell my work to them in some way. I have seen several artists at shows sit back with their arms folded looking down because sales aren't as good as they hoped. Trust me, you don't want to be that guy.

The thing is nobody wants to approach you when you are down in the dumps, at that point it becomes a self fulfilling prophecy where you are bummed you aren't doing well and people aren't approaching you because you are bummed, thus making you even more bummed.

The best way to break through that cycle is to put on a “Con face” be happy and engaging, say hi to as many people as you can. No matter how bad a day/week you are having you cannot let it show while you are behind that table. Smile, be upbeat, say “Hey hows it going” try to get them to stop and start a conversation, and then lead that conversation towards you and your work. (in my opinion standing behind a table not talking to anyone for 8 hours is boring, if I am not making any money I mine as well have fun talking to people) No matter how bad the day is going you CANNOT let people know, you gotta be happy and engaging the entire time. There is plenty of time to vent at the bar after the show talking with your neighbors and fellow artists.

The selling thing is really what is going to make or break your experience at a show. No matter how nice your display is, no matter how good your work is, if you do not have the confidence in yourself and your work to tell people they should buy this, conventions will be a struggle.

That being said, my final bit of advice for first time con goers is to just have fun. Chasing sales throughout a weekend is a stressful endeavor, dont get bummed if you only make back the table cost. There are a lot of up front costs associated with exhibiting at shows, so if you dont earn a profit at your first show, do not despair and give up (I did not make back the costs of my first show, these things take time to build up). Have fun, work on your sales pitch, talk to your booth neighbors and ask them lots of questions, and scope out ideas for a better/improved booth setup. Use the show as a learning experience to apply to future shows and you will have a good time, and the knowledge of this show will make the next one even better.

Finally, if you are looking for more information and knowledge about conventions and selling and running a booth I highly recommend checking out 1 fantastic week. These guys host a weekly webshow going over not only conventions but how to earn a living as an artist (useful topic dont you say), I learned a lot about selling at conventions and running my business from them and I cannot recommend them enough.

#convention #fantasy art #fantasy artist #comiccon #Illustration #how to make it #booth setup #sales #convention prep #supplies #fantasyillustration #comic convention

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artdjgblog · 4 years ago

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Innerview: Ercan Ucer / Grafik Tasarim (Turkey)

October 2008

Image: NA / Grafik Tasarim Dergisi

Note: Take #1 of a design magazine interview.

01) How do you name yourself other than being a versatile designer? Labels aren’t my liking, but they can’t help but be used. Things are what they are. The past year and half I’ve come to the realization that I’m not really a graphic designer. Well, I am, but not in conventional ways or to today’s standards. I find myself every day becoming more and more out of touch with things. I’ve always had the knack for carrying my own cocoon with me, but some days it’s very apparent that I’m enclosed. That aside, anymore I just say that I’m a maker of things, as I like to just make things. I think I confuse a lot of people, actually I know I do. I’ve had people email me confused if my web site is an archive for many artisans’ work. Some think that there is a D, a J and a G teaming up in my basement. One girl asked if I did any actually DJ-ing. Which, I gladly agreed with. I’ve had clients get a little disappointed by what I make for them because it’s not what they wanted, even though they told me from the initial phone call or email, “I like everything that you do. Do whatever you want.” I simply like to make things and hope to dab a bit into many things by the time my time is up. I do know that every day is a new adventure at my soupy head and dining table. I’m calling a portion of my problem, well not really a problem for me but it might be to others and so be it, the “Batman Boyhood Concern”. When I was younger I simply made things. When I was younger I was obsessed with Tim Burton’s take on “Batman”. And I still find it to be my most engaging. I wanted everything in my room to be “Batman” related and if we couldn’t afford the room make-over, I’d just have to take matters into my own hands. My Grandparents lived just a four minute, little-legged sprint down the sidewalk from the school house in the small town I was associated with. Nearing 3:30 PM about three out of five school days, I’d hit the screen door running, grab a sugar cookie and get to work on my life-sized detail drawing of actor Michael Keaton as Batman. My Grandma kept this ode to pop-culture and my life in her bottom dresser drawer next to a giant pile of drawings from a giant pile of grandkids that she had collected over the years. I’d shut myself in her bedroom, drawing my way into a little portion of my master work until “Supper” wrapped it’s way around the kitchen corner, calling down the hallway. Drawing utensils were then exchanged for eating ones and the paper was rolled back up until I’d hit the front door again the next time. Something in me just said to draw it, to do it. Something before even this particular episode or movie was in me saying for me to do and make things. And I just enjoyed it. I found a peace to documenting things and sometimes I’d tag team with my older brother and we’d feed off of our energy to draw and make things. We’d tailor many creative moments after late nights watching movies or attending a wide range of events like fairs, tractor pulls and visiting cities. For the record I believe the “Batman” project went unfinished, but in some extension I’m still making things in this formative format, along with feeding off of other events in my life, past and present. Sadly, when my Grandma had to finally sell her home and contents, I wasn’t there the day the trash was hauled off with that over-sized, unfinished treasure map to my late ’80s world in-tact. In some ways maybe it is better off that it lives as a memory, though I’m sure I’d proudly display it if I had it today. And in some ways I hope that somebody plucked that thing up out of a trash heap somewhere to hang on their wall, to either celebrate another’s dream or as inspiration for their own. I know I’d do the same if I found someone’s life work, even if it was only drawn in a season and only for the sake of making something. I can see that a lot of talent is emerging right now from my generation (mid-20s/30s). In a sense we’re coming out of our bedroom closets to share with others what we can do. We’ve got a firm grasp on our ancestors’ aesthetics and fuse it with a brimming-over upbringing pile of video tapes, video games, computers and pinches of rebellion and rock ‘n’ roll and whatever environment we come from or have access to (at least from my perspective). I suppose the versatile designer isn’t a new thing, as I’m now thinking of some of my favorite and influential master designers of yesterday. But the combination of yesterday’s and today’s technology plays a role in the creative implants of the current versatile designer. I think you’ll find that a lot of people are just up and making a wide-range of things, not because they have to but because they simply can. Everybody seems to be versatile, and many are extremely good at it. Many artist/designer web sites are a file cabinet for all things, all ideas and information (I know that mine is that way, or I’d like to think it is or will be some day). I always say that you can throw a rock and hit somebody who is involved in the arts. And that’s not a bad thing, but it’s this is interesting to me and I think it’s due to the internet and technology. There are a lot of people making things or tying to. It’s good and bad that we’re all kids again? I think I’ll always be a man-child to some degree, but I have to plug into the adult world. Opposed to being versatile, there are a few one-hit-wonders, or stylists that can pull off their own thumb prints with each piece over and over and over, assembly-line like. Personally, I get a bit blahed by this and like I say a few can only pull it off for a career of the “same something to say”. I always think of one of my favorite illustrators, Edward Gorey, when I think about a style that sticks and is truly of the originator. He had his influences and his loves, but he also spun his own world and I don’t think his world caan ever be truly duplicated. 02) What is the relationship between marketing and your designing process at different areas? (poster, packaging, logo…etc) Until recently I’ve never had to market myself in conventional practice. For six solid years I cut my cloth diapers full on independent music-related designs that involved posters, logos, illustrations, etc. Being plugged-in to a small market like Kansas City, MO as a maker of things, and early-on living with a band who knew other bands and so forth, it was easy for me to crank out quite a quantity of work and a wide selection. Still, I’ve always just barely dipped into the arts scene here. My first few years of my design odyssey, there was no shortage of people to form relationships with and most of these people needed things made for their band or whatever. Not to mention I was in my early 20s which amounted for a large amount of energy and excitement. It also got to the point where I didn’t need to be told to make something. I’d just up and do it. Granted, I haven’t made much money at all doing what it is I do (this is something I knew from the get-go) and there have been some frustrating times, but the rewards have been greater and most all of my initial goals and curiosities have been met, several times over. And look at me, I’m making it in Turkey! Anyway, mostly what I’ve fit into is “Trickle Down”, or “Word-of-Mouth”. On top of creating my first five or more years, which was squandered into the late night / wee morning or on weekends, I was working 40 hours a week (oh, still am) at day jobs. I was a janitor and grounds keeper for many years and currently I do data entry in an office and have a better schedule and sleeping pattern. For a season or two I was even working 60 hours a week to make ends meet, plus a full-time girlfriend (now my wife) and working all night to meet design deadlines (thankfully independent music industry deadlines can be very relaxed and since I don’t get much money, I can pretty much make my own deadlines). I was at times scrambling between 10-to-15 projects at once, and only to basically be paid in cheeseburgers. Certainly, the ultimate goal and position for me is to someday make a clean getaway from the day jobs. I will still dabble in music-related practices, but I’m finding new avenues and realizing the powerful and simple marketing tool that the internet has to offer. Although I butt heads with computers and technology, I’ve learned to just be myself when representing myself. But, my biggest “butt” will be with myself. I can never do enough and I’m so very hungry. 03) Can you tell us about your working environment and your different feelings or extraordinary events that inspires you? Ever since I was a child, my working environment has been in my bedroom hunched over at my bed or whatever work station of the week I’ve built. I could always be found drawing or building something, or putting culture into my system. Though, my working environment extended beyond the bedroom as I grew up a child of rural farm and country life in the middle of America. I made dives into the sandbox, the fields, creeks and woods. I certainly believe in a home base of operations, mostly a place to find peace through the pieces, store my treasures and to unload my skull cap. And I’ve claimed to friends before how I could easily stay alone for weeks or months on end. I don’t get bored and lonely. Like my childhood on the farm, I still see everywhere on the outside as my working environment as well because I do my most thorough thinking / observing while out of my clubhouse comfort zone. Don’t most all who dive into any area of the arts and crafts? Given my odd schedule, I also must spin wheels rather quickly. So, I suppose the clubhouse external is the feeding and processing ground until I get the moment’s time to get it out of my system while at my desk down in my basement clubhouse. And I need this. It’s my cure, though it can be my downfall. I’m a major fan of extraordinary events and tend to find humorous and peculiar ones to be more my taste, and more-so in retrospect of the event. I’m a fairly anxious guy, so inspiration usually comes after my own post-dramatic stress of a situation. I feel to be blessed with a certain quality that attracts odd circumstances, or maybe it’s just in over-kill-over-my-head. Extraordinary has its own brand of fast pitch. More often I find inspiration in places, events and things that are fairly run-of-the-mill and every day ordinary for any person, which can give them an added cushion of “extra” for me. Some of my very favorite designs are remnants of everyday people, places and things. I do a lot of looking down or glancing off into space, collecting while I’m out and about either mental delights or physical ones that have been discarded. Since I was young I’ve had a habit (good or bad?) of bringing things home. While most men bring booze, golf clubs, sports cars, tools, even ladies home…I started dragging pieces of the farm to my world under the bed. I believe this started with bugs and the only type of spider I find comfort in, known to me as the Granddaddy Long Leg. When I found out that these long-legged, tiny had wonders would pass away of suffocation and frost bite after rounding them up in a glass jar kept in the freezer, I started dragging pre-dead things home to spare me some emotion. Not too unlike the family farm dog, I’d drag animal carcasses, parts and pieces to my bedroom. I was a gatherer before I was a hunter. Though, part of this was instilled in my boots while on excursions with my father to hunt animals like quail, rabbit, squirrel, turkey and deer. My Dad would let me keep things like turkey beards, feathers and feet. He himself had an impressive collection of deer antlers. When I was 6 or 7 my grandmother made me a denim backpack lined with plastic to collect the day’s dead things in. My Dad would shoot something and toss it into my backpack. Once home we’d dump it out to field dress our dinner and wipe out the lining for the next hunting trip. Mom and Dad have a couple picture books filled with the conquests of kills. They also serve nicely as a chart for watching four children grow-up as they jot the front lawn or pick-up truck bed landscape in front of my Dad’s kills, with big eyes, grins and sometimes a tongue hanging out in mimic of a dead deer’s. Further-on the photographs reveal the children as stars to their own still scenes with their own bagged game. A future goal of mine is to have an exhibition of blown-up family photography of this genre. To some this may be quite strange or extraordinary, but it’s not unusual for me at all and nothing out of the ordinary in response to the environment I grew up in. It’s only one tier of the cake. I’ve had many events in my life stick-out (check the “history” on my web site), but a singular extraordinary event that sticks out in a way in which it triggered me happened when I was six years old. I was at the school playground during Kindergarten recess. All alone I sat on top of a tall slide and watched the rest of the class playing games together, rummaging through the playground’s wood chip obstacles and tennis court tag playing. They were all going and doing and jumping and seemed to be enjoying themselves, but it just didn’t feel right to me. The playground sat directly next to a well-traveled road and it too was buzzing behind me with cars, trucks and tractors housing people on the go. Even though I made my own decision to do my own thing, sitting atop that slide, I felt extremely alone, confused and secured inside a most intense sadness of insecurity and strangeness to this scene, to the extended world I was coming up into. I can still feel a connection to this moment and I’ve had two or three other episodes like it, but not nearly as bad. Jokingly, I’ve maybe spent three of my nine lives during these moments. But, the one thing I can’t precisely channel, looking back up that slide, is what exactly happened after my observational anti-social breakdown. I do know that I blacked-out, fell from the top of the slide and hit my head really hard on the ground. The next thing I remember was sitting in the back of my parent’s car, smiling at the blue sky and excited to leave school early. Something important announced itself that sunny day. I wouldn’t exchange my early observations, inputs, memories and moments for anything, even the things I did this morning I wouldn’t trade. It has all compounded and fueled me in a way to how I got to the right now. When that can be channeled and floated on, then the moves you make can be pre-calculated and form purity to them. Notes like that aren’t always hit perfectly, and sometimes you’ve got to miss and even collapse to the floor. But, when the notes are on, you can really feel it. 04) When did you discover the impulse that led you being a designer? This impulse to create, to leave behind a paper trail of some sort on my impression, has always been kicking around in me. I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t doing or making something. Even now, creeping on 30 I’m finding that I’m more in touch with my former self than my current, chipping away at something. Actually, the former and current are the same person. I’m not really living in my past, but I’m moving forward with it fully there and in use. Which, is another calculation of how all things gathered and hunted in one’s life can lead to the now, I suppose? Though, I don’t mean to randomly aim arrows. From a young age I was dealing with design (as all of us “designers” did and do), but at the time didn’t really make a proper connection to it. I knew how to spot Beatles records by their green apples. I was a fan of the “Star Wars” logo type and knew it was its own calling card and mega cool. I was very respectful of my nation’s flag and very curious of how one got his picture on money…and many other things that we all find developmental comfort or relation in. And while growing up on a farm I became quickly associated with tractor machinery identities and seed corn logos. With my older brother I’d collaborate on mini magazines and we also would cut and clip exciting words and phrases out of Mom’s magazines and paste them down. I always chose to “Visualize” my book reports in school rather than “Verbalize” them. I must confess there was many times where I wouldn’t even read the book and still score a top honor with my interpretive illustrations based on my own guts and thoughts. Which, sometimes a designer doesn’t have time to read a whole book before slapping a cover to it. When the age of 9 or 10 came around I was the winner of a wide-spread logo competition for a roller skating / bowling alley business in a nearby town. I had a hunch I’d win as every other submission, even those by students 8 years older than me, didn’t feel inspired or realized or even logo-like (whatever that means nearly 20 years later). I still like my logo. Though, when my family drove by the facility after the sign was finally up, I got a real-world shock of disappointment as the owners had took the liberty to butcher my design and it just wasn’t the same. It was ruined to me. It was my first design disaster and it hurt at the age of 9 or 10, just like they hurt now. I was also a big fan of collecting and mimicking logos and mascots for collegiate and professional sports teams. There was a time when I claimed, “I want to be one of those people that makes those sports logos.” Not really knowing what people who made such things are called, but I knew that I wanted to be involved somehow and I knew how to make sense of them (I also celebrated a go at trying to design athletic shoes). My love for those sports logos moved into sports stadium design and architecture while I was in my early teens. I still have pages and pages of baseball stadium designs I’ve invented. However, a poor track record in mathematics finally convinced me at 18 that I probably couldn’t make the cut in such a technical field as architecture without being held accountable for faulty engineering. It was a hard reality, though I eventually would work as a night janitor for a successful stadium design office when I first moved to Kansas City, MO. So, technically I did work in sports architecture. The summer previous to my non-math skills realization, I was involved with a wide-selection of fellow high school artists to form the first annual Missouri Fine Arts Academy. This opened me up to other channels for future development with the arts. And I became more open and dare-I-say, evident of my ability for “artsy”? I also was becoming influenced by new things like typography of graffiti (even though I only practiced graffiti in sketch books and had no idea what typography was until two years later). The last year of high school I decided to go to college for something called graphic design. I enjoyed art and making things, but from what I understood graphic designers guaranteed “more chunky of a pay check”, something I’m still looking for. It wasn’t until receiving a great helping of design education at Southwest Missouri State University (SMSU, which is now Missouri State University), that it really began to seep in what a graphic designer was defined as. The illustration and design department at SMSU was a unique opportunity to study with as my instructors were from Eastern Europe and Russia. This brought a great perspective on not only the largely hands-on work that I was interested in pursuing but also from a cultural platform. Most importantly, I learned how to build and burn from the fuel that I once had while making things in my bedroom as a child. This took over two years of redevelopment, oiling and eye opening to get at what I had in me from the foundation get-go. My instructors helped me to see this, along with a lot of hard work. Though, looking back I don’t think I really worked hard enough. At times, it wasn’t an easy transition and at times I was laughed at by peers. One such instance early-on in my studies was when I said, “I’m going to take the graphic design route that doesn’t involved computers.” It wasn’t arrogance speaking, rather backwoods boy. A couple of friends thought I was crazy for that one. Later on those same friends would look at me very strange when I thought that typography class involved map making. After many paints of red face, and once knee-deep into my studies, I had second thoughts about graphic design as I fought with the screen barrier of the computer monitor, the route I didn’t want to take. Computers choked the fun out of creating for me. Frustration was sensed from within and out as I was at a loss with my once creative love and my first computer design instructor was pretty frustrated with me. Along with this struggle, I visited many professional design studios and always came back very unsatisfied with the “profession” I was getting into. It lacked what I was searching for, the thing that kept me up as a child making stuff. A professional design office atmosphere might work for most, and that is perfectly fine, but I for one wasn’t about to give myself to another man’s dream, spending 40 years pushing around on an assembly line screen. I’m painting a terrible picture for professional design offices and I apologize. I just didn’t see myself and the way in which I thought and worked in that environment. I knew what I wanted to do, but had no idea what to do with it. And I for sure knew it wasn’t going to be wasted on computer monitors (Note: I own a computer and use it. It is a remarkable tool and has been a good/bad addition to the industry. But, a computer is not design nor does it have a magic button that pukes out designs like people back home have once thought). Sheepishly, I took a chance on myself the last couple years of school and gained much needed confidence in doubling up design with illustration classes and learning to merge the two. It was a lot of work (even though I don’t think I worked hard enough), but something clicked and I felt like something could come of it. Outside of class I was catching fever as well, starting what would become my own business and shuffling a large amount of clients. This was when I started getting into independent music graphics, merging my love of music with my love for making things, and meeting people who needed me to make them things. The last couple of years of school were very important. I learned to reconnect with myself, to poor into my work to where it became more than just “work”. I would then finish up the rest of my design and illustration courses and secretly drop-out of school to pursue a higher calling to do my own thing. 05) Is looking at life always from a different angel, the designer’s necessarily ego? Most any area of most any job / skill / talent / business doesn’t come without some ego hurdling. The ego is amped further within the arts. Inflated achievement comes with ease when your voice gets a little loud in a ��scene” or beyond, when you start to make some ground or just think you’ve got it going on. It’s easy to become your own Hallmark moment. I’d like to think I’m fairly grounded, but it’s hard not to feel the eggs weight the other side when I know I could be sitting on a couple of golden ones. And everybody asks me why I’m not doing this full-time, why I don’t have my own book, why this and that. Working a day job can help matters upstairs and can also add a unique fuel to the equation, but it can also be a nightmare pushing everything to the back burner because of a day job. It can hard to keep up with everything. But, life is life and I’m best when I don’t try to push it so hard that I end up breaking instead of making. I have to just tell myself that I am a man and a man who happens to make things. Even if those things are on the side, and at times have to stay on the inside. It doesn’t mean that I’m better than somebody nor am a “somebody” because I’ve found a certain something within me or a way to leave my mark. I enjoy my life, have fun and feel very fortunate, even if I do find it all quite silly or serious from time to time. I think one needs healthy doses of reality and a whole heap of humor to make it. Besides, I have no answers. If you know somebody with it all figured out, have them call me. Phones tend to bring the egos out, but I’ll at least give an ear. What helps me is to find comfort and ease in venturing back into my child manner. I find peace in just Be-ing, but not in some freak-out way. I’m much more content and find peace when I’m either looking at the world through a certain lense that I might qualify for or just making and enjoying the act of celebration in creativity. The moment I start to think too much about it all or start to answer questions for interviews is when it can get a little dangerous. I feel odd for the people who sit through an entire interview with me because half the time I have no idea what the heck is going on. Creative voice can be a dangerous stomping ground. We see individuals all the time start to play God with their arts and crafts to where they become the work of art. They say it’s “who you know”, not “what you know” and this may be true in some fashion, but I think people play with their gifts a little too hard to become something other than a someone, to where they don’t even recognize themselves. It’s a place where the art takes possession over them and the things and even the people that they pioneer. It’s sad. And another thing, it’s sad to me when creative people resort to outside influences to fuel themselves. This is another topical can of worms, but I get extremely sad, frustrated and the feeling of cheat when I find a great piece of art was created under the guise of chemical enhancement and or power pills. I don’t think I’ve ever had a creative supply shortage. Even if I had the full-time employment of my own craft, I’d still have a back list added to daily as there isn’t enough time and resources to accomplish everything I want to and I don’t have a lack of work ethic or passion (though sometimes I might think I’m lazy). It’s evident that those who are steeped with some intuition to create and spew out what they’ve got in them have been blessed and cursed in some way. I feel very blessed to have this ability of self-contained entertainment and amusement and the strange need to put my stamp down here. Though, it can be a wreck when I stay too deep within myself. It’s hard to find balance sometimes, but if I just take things one step at a time, I’m fine. I think gaining wisdom through maturity helps and I know that my energy and will-power have died some and of late because I’m getting older. But, I’m leaning on this as a beneficial tragedy and it excites to want to always be making my best work. I think I say and do some dumb stuff now, but I’m positive it’s less than yesterday. 06) Can you inform us about graphic design’ s one of the important field, package design and your sketches? / Tell me about the sketching and process of packaging. There is a certain amount of image longevity that becomes attached to packaging. I’m not experienced in much more than musical CD packaging, but I think a long life span especially applies to this in the iconic halls of pop-culture. Certainly, my little kicks aren’t associated with the big boy playground pop-culture world at all, as I’ve only floated around the local independent music scene and a few magazines and books. Though, who knows as time passes and perhaps within the very small circle I’ve operated in, it will tell. Besides, it’s not the reason to make something and/or package something (to win awards and hearts or to make something cool-lookin’) but if you can add some meaty eye candy, then so be it and why not? I love poster design because there are endless possibilities to exhaust, many ways to work reach-and-grab, to be of-the-moment and intuitive. If something doesn’t work all-around, it’s throw-away and will die soon like house flies. CDs are so different, at least for me, and they can be quite intimidating and sometimes a nightmare. I do a little bit of sketching, but more-so the process and evolution of diving right into the CD package is the sketching for me. If I’m rewarded with an ample amount of time to work on a CD I usually make it happen in three different sessions, or what I call “incubation stages”. This allows me time to sit on ideas and to come back to them with fresh perspective and clear head, to play or spin off ideas and such. With the way in which I work, I tend to feed off of my day-to-day (sometimes minute-to-minute) emotional handy work. It can be a little strange though as I say I don’t like to think, but I’m no stranger to it and thus I can easily obsess over wondering the what-might-have-been with something like a CD package or anything after it’s over. There have been moments where having an extended deadline for a package can cause too much to happen, too many sessions. And I’ve had some CD packages that the musicans/band have taken anywhere from six months to two years upon getting to the final. You know, people taking their time, finishing up recording, life stuff and production blahs. These typically turn to nightmare with the band or a third party (another designer or the printer) ending up with passed around digital files, putting the project on the mutated chopping block. CDs can wear me out. Especially in the age of digital and “everybody’s a designer”. That’s another ball park though. Though I appreciate not cramping my time and style, as I’m a busy boy, I do believe my best packages have come down on me at the last minute, and usually on the lowest of budgets. And I mean cheap, major cheap. Sometimes I only need one session to cram for the final. There have been times where a client tells say, “Hey, I’ve got such ‘n’ such idea to release a CD.”, and instantly I’ll have the image in my head and make it and it’s perfect. I guess it just depends? 07) What are the benefits of making global designs for the designer? I love a body of work, one that breathes and not only serves as a timeline for the maker, but also for views and observations on life itself. I like the idea of the paper trail through the woods. Even if it goes barely used or undiscovered in its own time, it still becomes a piece of time. Who knows, maybe it will be a major highway further down? Of course anyone who makes things in a passionate format and routine can’t help but be a tad bit selfish when it comes to dishing something up. Even if it is for some other body, it is always from an original body, the creator. Anything that goes global is still connected to that first breath of singular life. It means a great deal to me when something silly that I get tickled out of bringing to life, in some aspect, makes it out of the nest and causes others to react in their own way, mostly positively and even sometimes negatively. In today’s fast-paced world of millions and billions of images and things flashing, it really does mean a lot that my meager things have made it in some strange and oddball small-scale way. Even, if it’s just a grin or a double-scoop by someone of a little poster on a wall or in a magazine or out there on the internet billboard. After starting to make things on my so-called professional design odyssey for only a few months, I had people track me down to say how their bedroom walls had few places to hang anymore of my work. This just floored me as I am not one to have much bare space on my own walls of other people’s work. 08) Can you explain the relationship between marketing and designing? Like I previously mentioned, years of marketing for me came by word-of-mouth or by people seeing my work in the community or in magazine competitions and book publishing. Something I tell artists and designers is to get the work out there. Even if it’s something you’re doing in the off hours, just get it out. I know that I have some things that only I and my basement will see, but a lot of what I make gets out there. And if the people find something to listen to within your work, they will come. Even if it’s just one or two, then that is worth it. I feel I’m finally at a place where I can sit back and re-learn some things and actually look at the things I’ve made, the pile I’ve built. I’m learning to use the internet as the tool it is to pass emails to prospective clients or industry folk and to find ways in which to get my new web site some traffic. I have to take it a bit slow though because I only have so little time to actually make things that it’s hard to find the time to push that stuff into other areas. There aren’t enough hours in the day. Also, I definitely believe in getting the work to design competitions whether local organizations, national or world-wide. I recommend dumping as much stuff as you can every year, money-willing of course. People on the other end start to take notice and begin to look for you, which can turn to magazine editors leaving positive messages and emails, interested in your work. This can also lead to interviews and other special things. The work in magazines has been the most important for me as publishing can extend many world regions, gathering a lot of feedback. This can lead to book submissions and beyond. I’m not sure if I’m answering this question correctly. Marketing in other ways…? A design is a marketing tool. Though, a designer does play eye-grabber, a designer is not really a marketer, but I guess it helps a bit to know how to sell something? I had friends in college who studied marketing as well as design. But, it’s an area I’m not familiar with other than getting people to get excited for a musical group/sound/feeling/expression by way of poster, CD or logo design. It is marketing tool though, especially when working with a client. It certainly is not only what the designer can bring to the “product”, but you’re also working for somebody and trying to sell an image or an item and in the case of show posters, selling a venue or the place the poster is hanging or even the scene and city. I think this can be a tricky walk. I’ve been fortunate to have some success with great clients and great projects to where things work out lovely. I guess it helps that independent music graphics kinda start out in left field? Though, I don’t think that the work should limit itself. I think it’s great when the work speaks to anybody. There are times though where things don’t mix well, whether under the weather or client-wise or consumer. It’s just part of the deal. 09) Does any of your designs have an unforgettable story? This question has been asked a handful of times and it’s always answered the same way as this story is one that I won’t forget. I think that everything I make has a story to it. Whether it’s an unforgettable one in terms of production on my end, or one that is contained within the background of the piece internally, everything has a story. The “Whatever Makes You Happy” CD package design I made in June of 2002 for the band Elevator Division, is one of my most memorable moments, story-wise and design-wise. The following has been told so often for interviews, that I’ve now come to simply plug in a script that I’ve already spent time with to answer such a question. I don’t aim to cheapen this interview by including something that I gave for another, but here goes the story. It’s pretty whacky and ended up being one of the best things that I think I’ll ever make. It was a special run of 250 homemade CD packages for the band Elevator Division. I’ve had many projects that demand more production time than my little brain imagines, but this one was the worst. Actually, the finished piece is a lot tamer than my initial idea. Though, the final image’s concept, married to what the band was communicating on the disc inside, is way better. The idea came at the night I started printing. Well, actually it was spray paint. I had an image made for a month or more and then changed it at the last stroke of inspiration. It married the themes for the album “Whatever Makes You Happy” perfectly. With reflections of war and relationships in the songs, I made an image of a hand shooting off its index finger like a missile. It was the idea of shooting off one’s options and making decisions. It was aggressive, inviting, serious and humorous all in one. It was not only fitting for the band / music but also to the national / world agenda and climate. I went to war that night with many cans of spray paint and the idiot mind to do two-hundred and fifty, all in one massive sweep, and in my basement, which is something I will never do again because I could have died. I will probably also never be involved with another package like this again (take that back, I have been). Anyway, each one was hand-cut from cardboard and handmade stencil sprayed and rubber stamped. Inserts were cut, folded and glued. At the last mist of red spray a crack of thunder shook the massive turn-of-the-century home and I bolted from the basement and out the front door to a down poor fit for Noah himself. I was like a much less cool version of Dr. Frankenstein though. I leapt off the front porch and slid head first down the embankment and into the street turned river current. Like a taxidermy nightmare, I was born again. The drug dealing squatters of the home across the street were on their front step perch per usual summer evening, looking at the fire in my eyes and the red paint streaming from ears, nose and mouth. It was a high much higher than that of chemical substance. Well, maybe a three pack of design, life and paint fumes. -djg

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