#typical case of writing 1000 words for the one scene i had in my head

[niemernuet]

Mentally I've been stuck here ever since I learnt that Dani had to babysit this ⬇️ Odi through his worst hangover during his very first wc finals in 2018:

The head coach is terrifying to approach at the best of times; today, in his current mood, he looks downright menacing as he drives past the entrance to the parking lot. Neither Daniel nor Justin are deterred though, and hurry across the uneven, icy ground as fast as they can. In their back, the long, drawn out lake lies grey and calm at the bottom of the valley.

They begin to talk at the same time.

“Excuse me, I think there has been a misunderstanding,” Daniel says.

“You can’t do this, Coach!” Justin says.

The coach, still half-way hunkered over as he is exiting the car, stops in his tracks, and glares at them. Both Daniel and Justin are wise enough to stop what they are saying. For a few heartbeats they are both quiet as the coach’s frightening glare rests on them. Daniel is the first to read his expression correctly.

“Hello,” he says.

“Hi,” Justin adds quickly, and they both follow the coach as he walks towards the boot of the car.

“Hello, boys,” the coach rumbles. Justin’s mouth is wide open again, though this time, Daniel shoves his elbow in his friend’s ribs, and takes over.

“I’m sorry but I think there has been a misunderstanding with the allocation of the lodgings.”

“It’s the last race week of the season, you can’t do…” Justin begins but again is silenced with a well-placed elbow to the rib cage.

“I’m just not sure there’s a good reason for your decision…though we fully respect it,” Daniel hurries to add. “But we thought that maybe there are some improvements we could do…and it would be beneficial for the whole team. Also…”

The coach raises a finger, and Daniel stops mid-sentence. Again the coach glares at them for the fraction of a moment too long.

“You will not share an apartment,” he eventually says. Daniel and Justin sputter like stalling snowmobiles in his back while he pulls a suitcase out of the car, and puts it on the ground.

Once more he silences them with a raised finger. “Do you want to know the reason?”

“Yes!” they exclaim.

“You!” the coach says, and points his finger at Justin whose expression immediately turns to utter shock.

“What? I didn’t do anything!”

The coach laughs as he pulls out another suitcase. “But you did! Because of you and your idiotic post on smartbook I had to sit not in one but TWO meetings with our organisation’s president and someone from FIS.”

“It’s facebook,” Daniel says softly, his shoulders now slumped at the sudden realisation of their endeavour’s futility.

“Do you know how much I’ve had it with meetings? Up to here!” the coach barks at Justin, and draws a line across his forehead with his extended finger. “So no, you will not share an apartment this week. You received your flatmates, and I told the team everyone who swaps with you will walk to South America next summer.”

“This is retaliation!” Justin cries out.

The coach laughs, and closes the hatch of the car. “I guess you could say so, yes.”

Daniel grabs Justin by the shoulder, and with a little bit of struggling mangages to push him away. “I understand that must have been annoying but I don’t see how that is a reason to punish me for it.”

The coach locks the car, and grabs his suitcases. “You’re not being punished.”

“You put me in the apartment with the rookie!” Daniel almost shouts, his nerves getting more frazzled by the second  as he struggles to keep Justin back.

“This is so unfair!” he throws in over Daniel’s shoulder.

“Listen!” the coach barks, and both straighten their backs. Again the finger lands on Justin.

“I’m giving you a bit of friendly advice, because I’m your coach, and it’s my job: The next time you want to call out FIS’ marketing strategy, I want you to go to a home-trainer, and I want you to pedal until your tongue touches the ground. Because this will be a much smarter use of your energy than anything else you could do.” Justin throws up his hands but the finger wanders over to Daniel, and he gets no chance to rage further.

 “And you are not being punished. He’s a good kid, and I’m sure you will get along just fine. In fact, why don’t you go over and lend him a hand?” 

Daniel and Justin whirl around. They barely register the coach taking off at a brisk pace as they stare at the bus and Gisin that have arrived on the parking lot while they have been busy. 

“I’m sure you’ve already heard of Daniel and Justin from the slalom team. They’re…well, you’ll get used to them,” Marc says to the young man climbing out of the passenger side of the bus. “Laurel, Hardy, this is Marco.” 

Strands of blonde hair peek out from under Marco’s oversized hat and curl around his shoulder, and even though he is quite tall himself he is so lanky that he could disappear entirely behind Gisin’s large frame. He snorts at Marc’s last remark, and bites down on his lip. From the other side of the bus, their service man appears and opens the back.

“This is all your fault,” Daniel hisses to Justin, and walks over to Marco. “Hi, I’m Hardy.”

-----

Their lodgings take up an entire street of long barracks separated into units, a short stretch behind the main street, and just elevated enough to get a glimpse of the lake through the naked birches. Justin and Daniel take off with Marco’s baggage while Gisin keeps Marco back by the shoulder. They have reached the first doors already when he catches up with them.

“It’s all true,” Daniel says.

“What is?” Marco asks. He is skipping along, only a backpack and his jacket dangling from his arms.

“Any warnings he told you about us.”

Marco laughs. “No warnings, he told me the number of his and Beat’s apartments, in case it gets boring with you.”

“That’s even more insulting,” Daniel grumbles, and fishes the key out of his pocket. They shuffle through the door of the tiny apartment, and drop the bags in the small space between the kitchenette and the rickety table. With a sigh, Daniel turns around to face Justin.

“Is this because…” He breaks off when he realises where Marco is heading. “Excuse me, that one’s my room,” he says loudly.

“I thought so,” Marco says, his feet right at the edge of the threshold, and with slumped shoulders stares wistfully towards the window with the breathtaking view over the lake and mountains behind it. “Pity.” 

Daniel waits until he moves on towards the other room facing the back alley to turn back to Justin. “You don’t need to sulk because I said it’s your fault.”

“I am not sulking!” Justin exclaims. “Because it is not my fault!”

“I told you you’d just stir the pot without changing anything!”

“Someone had to finally say what a clown organisation FIS is!”

“Everyone knows that!” Daniel shouts from the other side of the table. They both pause in their yelling to stare at Marco coming back from his room. He shrugged out of the top layer of clothes, and his hair is standing up in all directions from the static of the hat’s synthetic fibers.

“Oh, don’t stop because of me,” he says, and grabs his bags by the handles. “I just need these here….thank you.”

“Yeah but nobody puts any pressure on,” Justin snaps as soon as Marco has disappeared.

Daniel shakes his head. “Is this still because of your DNF in…”

“IT IS NOT! Frankly, I don’t even know why you had to go and complain. Now the coach will…”

“I?” Daniel barks. “I had to go? I did this for us but okay, I guess you prefer Loïc’s company over mine then…”

“You did it because you didn’t want to bunk with the rookie,” Justin shoots back, and crosses his arms in front of his chest while Daniel furiously tries to shush him. An apologetic smile washes over his face when Marco’s head peeks around the corner of the hallway. He is topless now, and a towel is dangling from his shoulder.

“I didn’t say...it like that.”

“It’s okay,” Marco answers light-heartedly. “I’d much rather be with Thomi too, even though he sounds like a chainsaw when he sleeps on his back. At first I thought the coach hates me but now I’m glad to know it’s because of you.”

Daniel blinks. “Oh.”

Marco smiles at him. “Right. Hey, would you mind if I took some of your soap? I’d like to take a shower before dinner but I forgot it at home.”

“You forgot your soap at home?”

“Well…more like my toiletry bag,” Marco explains, and stares at Daniel with his big, brown eyes.

Daniel needs a few seconds before he can answer. “Sure,” he eventually manages.

“Cool, thanks,” Marco laughs, and disappears in the bathroom.

Daniel chuckles when he turns back to Justin. “This is so much worse than I thought. He’s like you! This week will be hell.”

-----

It is not easy to talk with a pair of lips on his own but Daniel is quite practiced.

“No!”

As if he could convince him if he just pressed against him harder, Justin wraps his arms tighter around Daniel’s neck, and kisses him with even more fervour.

“Please,” he begs in Daniel’s mouth, and grinds his hips against Daniel’s just hard enough to make the narrow bed squeak.

“Absolutely not…not when I’m bunking with the rookie.”

Justin whines, and shoves his tongue even further in Daniel’s mouth.

“He’s not here yet,” he mumbles.

Daniel snorts, and pulls his head slightly back. “He better come back soon, he has a race tomorrow.”

“He’s young,” Justin shrugs, and follows Daniel until his head bumps against the wall and he can no longer evade his kisses. “He’ll be fit enough. Please, Poulette…”

“M-mh,” Daniel answers, and shakes his head so that their lips lose contact. He drags his fingers through Justin’s hair, and smiles at him. “I’m sorry, not tonight.”

“We’ll be quick, come on…” Justin begs, and Daniel laughs again.

“I know you will be quick,” he teases, and silences Justin’s outrage with another kiss until he stops fighting, and melts against his chest. Just when Justin tries another angle by putting his hand over the bulge under Daniel’s sweatpants, something heavy crashes against the front door. At once they pull apart. The noise outside just barely reaches Daniel’s room at the other end of the apartment, separated by two doors and heavy insulation but they still hear the breathless, almost shrieking laughter.

“Jesus, are you alright?” Gino yells.

Again something heavy drops against the door. Justin lifts one leg, ready to slip off the bed but Daniel keeps him in place, and shakes his head.

“I’m okay, I’m okay!” Marco’s voice assures. 

“So…do you want to get up again?” Gino asks after a short moment of silence.

“Uh, yeah…as soon as I know which way is up.”

Again Gino’s laughter reverberates through the apartment.

“Silence!” Marco laughs. “I’m with Yule and he’s already sleeping.”

“Sleeping, right,” Gino grunts. “Which one’s your room?”  Something heavy moves over the floor, and then drops against the wall to Daniel’s room.

“Thank you,” Marco says. “This one there. And it’s true. I saw him leave earlier, so we really have to be quiet now or…”

The door springs open and with a loud bang slams against the wall. Light from the kitchen as well as Marco follow right behind, though Gino can catch him at the last moment before he faceplants to the ground again.

“Wait, no, that’s not my room, that’s…ohhh…” Marco’s voice dies down as he takes in the scene on the bed. Then, a big smile spreads over his flushed cheeks and the blonde hair clinging to it, and he waves enthusiastically at the people on the bed. “Hi Daniel, hi Justin!”

Justin chuckles, and waves back. “Hi, Marco.”

“I was twelfth in the downhill today!”

“We saw. Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

“Okay, let’s get you to your real room,” Gino presses through clenched teeth, and hoists Marco towards the hallway. “Sorry about that, guys.”

“No problem,” Justin says but neither of them is still listening as they shuffle off.

“Told you he’s sleeping alright,” Gino giggles, and another door gets slammed.

Justin chuckles, though he pauses when he looks down at his boyfriend and sees Daniel’s exasperation.

“Come on, he’s endearing,” he says, and kisses him.

“Annoyingly so,” Daniel snorts, and pushes against Justin’s shoulders.

“You used to love it when I did it,” Justin sighs but does not fight as he gets shoved off the bed.

Daniel grabs Justin’s jacket and throws it over his shoulders. “That’s because you used to be much more charming and sexy and handsome and overall breathtaking than him.”

Justin grins and leans in for another kiss. “Used to?”

Daniel smirks, and shoves him towards the door. “Good night, Honey Bear.”

-----

The slats of the bed are groaning almost as shameless as Daniel. His knuckles shine white as he clings to the headrest like a drowning man.

“Fuck, Justin…,” he moans, his legs twitching over the rumpled sheets. “Oh, fuck…”

Justin hums around Daniel’s cock in his mouth, and picks up the pace with his strokes. Daniel does not need more, and with a choked cry comes in spurts down Justin’s throat. He is still riding the wave down from the climax when Justin plops down next to him, and snuggles against his chest.

“See? I told you there’s enough time.”

Daniel laughs softly, still out of breath, and plants a kiss on Justin’s sweat-sheened forehead. 

“Okay, for once you were right.”

“M-hm,” Justin hums with a satisfied grin. For a few moments they lie together in silence before Justin pats Daniel’s chest, and sits up.

“You’re going already?”

Justin snorts, and grabs his trousers from the floor. “I only have the one back with me and I need it in two days…” He pauses, and checks the watch on his phone, “...no, tomorrow. I can’t share this cot with you tonight.”

Daniel sighs, and boxes the pillow under his head a few times. “This week sucks.”

Justin pulls his shirt over his head, and leans down for another kiss. “It’s almost over. Only two more nights with your new best friend.”

Daniel rolls his eyes. “Considering the way he partied yesterday for a twelfth place I’m sure I won’t see him until we’re on the plane after today’s race. Tell Loïc my regards.”

“No, thanks,” Justin laughs, and softly shuts the door.

The party of the sponsor down in the village is still shooting rays of colourful light into the sky but Daniel is tired enough that he feels sleep crawl over him the moment he closes his eyes. He is almost entirely dozed off when his phone starts to vibrate again. For a second he considers ignoring it.

“Missing me already?” he mumbles as he puts it against his ear.

“Uh…no, sorry.”

Daniel shoots up. “Fuck…I mean, hi.”

Gino chuckles. Thumping bass music fills the background. “Hi. I’m just calling because I was afraid you wouldn’t see it if I wrote.”

“Okay?”

“It’s stupid but could you maybe check whether Marco’s already home? I was just on the toilet and when I came back they told me he left.”

Daniel silently throws up  his hands and rolls his eyes, though he cannot hide the drawn-out sigh when he answers. “Okay, fine. Though I’m pretty sure he’s not here ye…” He stops abruptly as the front door slams shut.

“What?” Gino asks in the growing silence. “Is he with you?”

“Oh no no no!” Daniel cries out at the terrible sounds coming from outside his bedroom. “I swear if you…” He pulls the door open, and stares at the scene unfolding in the small kitchenette.

“What? Daniel, what’s going on?” Gino yells through the phone.

“Everything’s okay,” Daniel sighs, and slumps against the door frame. “He’s not puking on the floor.”

“He’s puking?” Gino echoes, still loud enough that Daniel does not need his phone to hear him from the village square. 

He walks around the table, and steps to Marco who is hanging over the sink, and throws up another part of his dinner from earlier in the evening.

“Oh yeah, like mad,” Daniel chuckles. “But don’t worry, there can’t be much left inside of him.”

“Okay…” Gino answers, and hesitates for a second. “So…could you maybe…”

Daniel sighs again. “I’ll make sure he won’t asphyxiate on his own vomit…wouldn’t want to lose our junior world champion, right?” He pats Marco on the shoulder and elicits a soft whimper from him.

Whatever Gino says next drowns out in a new song and the DJ shouting, and Daniel takes it as cue to hang up. He leans over Marco’s hunched body, and turns on the faucet. While the ice cold water takes care of the worst mess, Daniel flips through the few cupboards until he finds a plastic mixing bowl. In the faint light from Daniel’s room shining into the rest of the apartment, Marco’s face and hair have the same grey colour. 

“If you feel like there’s something else you need to go over in your head, aim here!” Daniel says, and hands him the bowl.

“Thanks,” Marco mutters, and traipses off towards his bedroom. Daniel turns off the water, and follows him. He finds Marco laying on his stomach on his unmade bed, the plastic bowl next to his head.

“I will fucking delete Justin’s facebook profile,” Daniel mutters as he bends down, and pulls Marco’s shoes off his feet. He does not budge even a little, his breath coming slow and steady, and quietly Daniel slips out of his room. His feet have just warmed up again under the blanket of his own bed, when something heavy crashes from one end of the hallway to the other. With a heavy sigh he listens to the hollow, gurgling noises of Marco throwing up into the toilet. He stays put, and without realising that he has fallen asleep, jolts up a few minutes later when the same happens again. The third time he is wide awake, glaring into the darkness around him, too annoyed even to pick up his phone and write an accusing message for Justin to read in the morning. The fourth time Marco’s journey to the toilet wakes him up he notices that the lights of the party have stopped. The silence is heavier now, without the distant noise, and Daniel’s breath hitches when he hears something else between Marco’s retching. With a few whispered swear words he peels the toasty blanket back, and makes his way towards the only illuminated room in their apartment. The sharp, pungent smell of vomit hangs in the windowless bathroom, though luckily, Marco has managed to only stain the inside of the toilet bowl. Marco bites down on his lower lip when Daniel appears in the door but he cannot stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks.

“Is…everything alright?” Daniel asks even though the answer is apparent.

Marco shrugs, his cheek pressed against the cool porcelain of the toilet. He sniffles, and looks up at Daniel with red-rimmed eyes.

“Am I cool?”

Daniel’s brows fold into a frown as he tries to find something to say. “Like…right now?”

He cringes when Marco closes his eyes, and a new flood of tears rolls down his cheeks and into the matted strands of the hair clinging to them.

“I’m so stupid,” he chokes.

Daniel stares at him for a second before he turns on his heel, and hurries away. When he returns with a glass of water, Marco is still hunched against the toilet.

“Drink this!” Daniel orders. “And then tell me what’s going on.”

Marco takes a small sip. He stares at the ground, mute and deep in his thoughts.

Daniel keeps staring down at him until something occurs to him. “Is there a reason why you left the team at the party?”

Marco’s lip wobbles, and quickly he takes another sip. “I feel like I’ll never stop failing and I’ll never be as good as the others.”

Daniel rolls his eyes with a chuckle. “That’s because you’ve slept three of the last 48 hours and you’ve had two races in that time.”

Marco looks up, and blinks at him.

“Not to mention all the alcohol you’ve been putting away,” Daniel adds. “Well…temporarily, at least. Drink up, go to bed and I promise tomorrow everything will be different.”

He grabs the empty glass from Marco, and fills it again before digging a pill out of his almost depleted toiletry bag. Marco is already face-down on his bed again when he reaches his room.

“Do you think I could ever have the same that you have with Justin?” he mumbles from the depths of his pillow.

“Depends who you want to have it with,” Daniel answers, and puts the glass and the pill on the nightstand.

“Gino…” Marco sighs, and groans slightly as Daniel pulls the blanket out from under his body.

“You’ll have to ask him,” Daniel laughs. 

Marco lifts his head, and scans the room.

“Not now,” Daniel adds hastily. “Tomorrow, when you’ll be sober again…and maybe realise that you have terrible taste.”

Marco’s head drops back into his pillow, and he mumbles something inaudible.

Daniel throws the blanket over Marco’s limp body. “Take the pill here first thing in the morning,” he says, and points at the nightstand, but Marco has already fallen asleep.

“Rookies…” Daniel mutters, and quietly slips out of the room.

-----

The ending of the season two days later is sadder than anticipated, with two cancelled races and stormy weather. The teams disperse, washed away by the rain, and one after the other the rental busses stuffed with skis and other equipment leave for the airport. Daniel is checking the sidepocket of his backpack for his passport when Marco appears by his side. He huddles close to get under the open hatch of the bus. The hair poking out from underneath his hat is dark from the rain, almost as dark as the shadows under his eyes.

“Sorry you couldn’t race,” he begins.

“It’s just my luck,” Daniel says without interrupting his search. “One whole week with you and nothing to show for it. You look terrible by the way.”

“I feel terrible too,” Marco admits. “I think I’m dying.”

“It’s called a hangover. You’ll get over it. Okay, all there.” With a satisfied smile, Daniel closes the zipper of the backpack and puts it back with the rest of his baggage.

Marco shakes his head, and stares out into the rain. “I’m not sure…the only thing I know is that I’ll never drink again.”

Daniel laughs.

“Never ever! I don’t remember a thing from that night.” For a moment, Marco stares out into the rain before he dares to ask the question. “Did I say anything about Gino?”

Daniel frowns, thinks for a second. “Not that I remember, no. Why?”

Marco shakes his head. “Just because…not important.”

Before Daniel can prod further, Marco throws his arms around him.

“At first I really did not look forward to living with you but then it turned out to be quite cool. If you ever switch to giant slalom, I’d love to bunk with you during the season. But don’t tell Thomi.”

Daniel chuckles, and hugs Marco back. “And if you ever tried slalom I would gladly lend you my toothpaste and shampoo.”

Marco laughs, and skips back towards the bus where his service man is waiting. Justin rounds the corner, and joins Daniel under the hatch where they watch the other bus jolt over the gravel toward the road.

“He’s in love with Gino,” Daniel explains, and smiles at Marco who is frantically waving at them.

“Awww, Rookie,” Justin coos. “So endearing.”

[sandwitchstories]

The Little Spoon

Hello Hello! I decided to participate in the Februrary 2023 prompts from @becausewritingshouldbefun ! Here’s a little drabble about a ship I rarely write about but has stayed in my head ever since I read a certain fanfiction. AND its under 1000 words. Holy crap, I did it!! 

I hope you enjoy this fun little story! (no ship bashing)

Here is my story for the first prompt of the month: Second Chances

________________________________________________________________

“What?! Everybody likes to be the little spoon!” Orga snapped, defending his refusal to move. 

Laxus struggled to keep a straight face, propping up on his elbow behind him on the couch, looking at his boyfriend. “Oh yeah? Well what if IIIIII want to be the little spoon?”

“Then we can take turns. You can be the little spoon next movie,” Orga grinned with a laugh.

“What are we even watching?” Laxus asked.

“It’s some movie Sting said had good fight scenes. He loves martial arts movies and they are normally pretty good. Except for one time… but we don’t talk about that.”

“Well, now I need to know. I don’t care that you don’t talk about it, you just brought it up. So spill it.” Laxus gave him a quick kiss.

Orga grinned, both at the kiss and the memory. “He brought over a movie to watch and popped it in all excited, typical Sting not paying attention…”

“Annnd?”

“Annnnnd he didn’t look in the case first and Frosch had swapped out the discs. It was some puppet kid show talking about not to bite strangers.”

“What?! Not just don’t bite… but specifically don’t bite strangers?” Laxus laughed.

“It’s weird too, because Frosch doesn’t bite people. Like… where did it come from? Why?” Orga’s grin widened. Laxus was always hot, but when he smiled, it gave the giant man butterflies in his stomach.

“Well, if the frog doesn’t bite people I guess the movie did its job.”

“Yeah, I guess you’ve got a point. He sure is a cute little cat though.”

“Yeah, he’s alright as far as the cats go,” Laxus rested a hand on Orga’s side. “Ya know… I’ve never told anyone this before but for a while I was a little… upset that I didn’t have a cat like the other dragon slayers.

“Your secret is safe with me,” Orga leaned up and gave him a kiss, grinning and resting their foreheads together briefly before laying his head back on a pillow, head still turned towards his boyfriend. “So did you buy a pet or something?”

“I have a Bickslow, that’s close enough to a pet. He’s even been known to bite strangers. Do you happen to know where that DVD you mentioned went?”

Orga laughed. “You know, I never would have taken you for bein’ a funny guy when we first met.”

“Yeah, well, I never would have thought that you’d be in my bed when we first met either.”

“Yeah, I’ll give you that. But I’m sure glad we went for that beer and gave each other a second chance”

“I am too,” Laxus nodded, he leaned over and gave Orga a slow, gentle kiss. “Now start the movie so we can not watch it.”

“What do you meant so we can not-”

Laxus cut him off with another kiss, taking the remote and hitting play.  He moved his arm to pull the other man closer, as he lowered his head towards him he muttered, “Hopefully it has a good soundtrack.”

“They never do,” Orga grinned as Laxus nuzzled his neck with a gentle kiss and a scrape of his fangs against his skin.

The movie began to play, yet not a word of it was heard.

[soyouareandrewdobson]

The biggest post yet: Analyzing a multipage story

Before I begin, I like to thank every follower so far and the ones who helped me over the course of the last weeks to build this tumblr up. This is for you and in a way the first test run for future, hopefully more elaborate reviews of Dobson’s comics. Hope you enjoy it and learn something.

Without further ado, ladys, gentlemen and the colorful rianbow inbetween, I present the unpublished “So you are a cartoonist?” story about the King of Queens trying to become a comic artist

Okay, this is not quite right. What is going to happen is as followed:

A few years ago Dobson released via his patreon the unpublished sketches of a multipage comic story about the struggles of a webcomic artist by the name of Kevin James, with no relation to the famous comedian who as of recently is also playing a neo nazi in a supposedly pretty damn good home invasion movie.

What I want to do is now go through this comic and point out some of the flaws in the writing/progression, okay? Cause honestly, this is not going to be the worst thing Dobson ever published. But it unfortunately has more than a few little hiccups that show Dobson’s flaws when it comes to creating a story.

So off to the next pages

Now as you can see, it is pretty obvious that the story is heading into a direction where Kevin seems to be a down on his luck creator. Having to work at the blandest named Burger Joint since Good Burger, with discount Doctor Wily as his manager and getting pretty little money into his account. Seriously, only 206 $ plus? I don’t know much about minimum wage in the states, but are you really getting that little even after taxes have been accounted for? Or is it likely Kevin is pretty deep into the reds and his deposit was even putting it into the plus again. If so… yaiks.

And now we are getting into the pages where a few slight problems may show up, depending on your own interpretation of things.

 See, in my opinion it is obvious that we are meant to feel sorry for Kevin, cause he lost his minimum wage job now for simply being late. Something that can happen to all of us. And yeah, losing your job when you have not really much in the bank, that sucks. So I would wish for the character to get at least a new job soon. However, we also need to acknowledge that the manager is not in the wrong here. After all, Kevin supposedly has shown up late for work for some time and his excuse that he was late because he had to work on his comic is not reasonable. For a lack of a better word, making this comic is just his hobby, not his job. His job is to make burgers and sell them, because the manager of the burger joint is paying him for that. So excuse me if my sympathy is not that much with him

Not really much to say here. I just want to point out two things: One, the countdown that showed up also in previous pages and goes further down the longer we get into the story, two that it actually may be a good thing that Dobson has not drawn the copy shop employee in more detail. Cause one thing I came to realize over time with Dobson is, that often times his sketches have more of a softness to them than the final product, where e.g. faces are more harsher and frankly, uglier than they need to be, in addition to being a bit oversaturated thanks to the colors. And with Dobson’s tendency to make also angry faces genuinely spiteful, I wonder if the copy shop owner would have come off in the final product as more “strawman mean” than necessary. Cause it is very obvious that “poor Kevin” seems to suffer from the indifferences of his environment.

 One month since he was fired and one more month till we are in the present and he loses his electricity cause he has not paid his bills. And this is where I slightly start to lose my sympathy with the character. Again, it is obvious that the story wants us to feel bad for Kevin because he is down on his luck although all he wants to do is just create his comic.

But at the same time, only halfway through the comic I have to ask, how much of his shitty situation is not just him doing nothing against it?

I mean, he has obvious money issues, he can’t pay the electricity bill and he has been fired a month ago. Shouldn’t he at this point not have attempted yet to get a replacement job? Or ask for unemployment support? Do commission work for fans in exchange for money?

I am just saying, his woes become a bit less relatable if he does not really attempt to at least try and fix the situation.

And unfortunately, this development continues still

 Gesh, this comic is really old when Kevin still owns a flip phone…

Also, I need to give his mom credit. 500$ send to her son so that he can pay his debts off and live well enough for a few days. Sorry, but 500$ is actually enough for me to live for a month and pay my groceries and major bills if I am careful enough. Lets hope Kevin is the same and that he looks out for a job

 … nope, he does not look for a job. Two weeks after he got the money he still does not have a job to support himself and assure he has a roof over his head. In fact, he likely loses more money than he necessarily needs to by going to a diner.

Look, unlike other characters created by Dobson, I really do not hate Kevin. Primarily because he does not show any of the despicable or idiotic traits other characters by him do. But Kevin is not doing anything to improve his situation, period. And that is not really how you should write “down on their luck” characters, cause that doesn’t really make them sympathetic. The sympathy a reader gives those characters stems primarily from the fact, that though they really try their best, fate is not working into their favor for different reasons beyond their control. But here the problem is, that Kevin has to a certain degree control over his situation. He can decide what he wants to do with the money, he can decide to either do or not do anything to improve his situation at least slightly. And he doesn’t do anything.  

Dear lord, Kevin is essentially Dobson when it comes to the laters overall situation and how he does little to improve anything when he is stuck.

Then there is also the entire thing about the waitress calling Kevin’s work amazing. For starters, I kinda doubt that that in our modern day society and work environment her acting like that in front of a customer, even if the customer does not mind, would fly with her employer. After all, professionalism and all that. Next, her praise feels shallow. The typical cardboard speech praise checkmark lines you can give to any piece of work, that don’t really mean anything if you do not elaborate on what it really is you find amazing about the characters in terms of personality or what it is about the story that hits home (e.g. can you realte to the characters, are you genuinely thinking the story is funny etc)

In fact, what even is Kevin’s comic?

 I get that his work is not the center stage of this story, but think about it: we are supposed to think that Kevin is talented and that he needs his lucky break. But would his work even justify success and admiration? All we know is that the comic features a character called Kat (not really an original name) who for a lack of a better word and based on the sketch outline may just be the bastard offspring of Bubsy and Talus from Alex ze Pirate. And that is it. For all I know, and taking for shit and giggles a made up meta narrative into account, his work may actually be on the same level as Alex ze Pirate itself. And if that is the case, let me just fill out an application as janitor for Kevin right now. If he is lucky he can make around 1000 dollars a month soon.

 This right here is actually a prime example of a common problem in Dobson’s longer story: Him breaking the old rule of “show, don’t tell”. The narrative tells us e.g. via the words of the waitress and the fact he has fans, that Kevin is a good cartoonist. But we do not see it for ourselves. And I am not suggesting here Dobson should draw 20 additional pages of Kevin’s creations and comics, because that would be freaking overkill. But imagine if this comic started off with the first page being part of a a very fantastic fight scene or story. Something rich in color and characters. Only for it to be revealed in the next page to be actually NOT the story we are supposed to read, but something Kevin creates right now. By doing so Dobson could not only show for the actual main story that Kevin is justified in having success, Dobson could have also shown for himself how he can be imaginative. How he can toy with tropes and expectations, while also creating something “new” out of nowhere just for fun. But that is not what we got. And all we have now are four more pages.

 Again, ONE MORE WEEK passed and he still did not get a job. And in fact, he is also overdue on his rent and wants to ask his mother AGAIN for money.

Dude… I am all out of sympathy. Sell your freaking kidney for all I care, offer your landlord oral sex or that you are going to do work around the house for him, just try to do something except beg mother to help you out again. Especially as she has already send you 500 dollar. What have you done with that money anyway? Did most of it get spend on your electric bill? If so, how huge was it? And did you fail to pay rent for a couple of months now that even your landlord is having enough? I ask the later in part because I genuinely do not know how fast a landlord can vacate you in the US. See, where I live you can get vacated too when you don’t pay up, but most landlords are by law forced to at least let you stay for a few more weeks till you either find a way to pay up or another place to live. Forceful removal of a tenant can mostly only happen if the person causes severe damage to the apartment or is facing criminal charges.

 So NOW you are looking for a job. Good luck getting 700 dollars in three days though. I can’t imagine that even if you get hired, that anyone will pay up that amount of money upfront to help you. Again, do you have no other options, Kevin? Also, for how long was that sign up there? How often have you gone by that diner? Also dear lord, the waitress really is not the smartest if she thinks being a webcomic artist pays all the bills

 So if the manager has already found someone, even if it was “just” now, why was the “now hiring” sign even still in the window? And he assumes there are even more bills? Kevin… do you have a genuine problem when it comes to handling finances? Would you do better, if you only get an allowance? Just one more page. And with it my biggest complains

And so our comic ends with all the build up of how down on his luck Kevin is, being essentially pointless, because at the end of the day he is still lucky and all his problems get resolved not by his own doing but by deus ex machina.

Okay, this is not entirely accurate.

After all, Kevin DID create this comic. He wrote it, he drew it, he send the script to multiple publishers, he got rejected multiple times and now he is also going to finally get recognition for it all. You can say he worked to get his foot into the industry. The problem is, that none of that work is really shown in the story presented to us. We do not see him work on the script, potentially rewrite or fix up mistakes, get the impression that even with the bad situation he is in, he still wants at the very least this passion project to succeed. All we know is he worked on something and now because it is convenient for the story, his misfortune is going to end and he gets a happy end that is way too convenient for my taste.

Look, I know nothing about how publishers work. If someone reads this and has genuine experience in how publishers approach you if they are interested in your work and how much money you can really make through it, you are free to tell me what you know or have experienced directly or indirectly. Cause frankly, I find it hard to believe that any publisher would immediately do the thing Kevin now experiences here. First off, why would they not attempt to call him or get into a more convenient contact with him than the mail? Second, advanced payment? Shouldn’t you at least try to handle out basic deals before you send him a paycheck over?

I get it is supposed to be a happy end for Kevin here, but honestly, with the way how even if people are getting published, success may not be immediate or not to a degree Dobson actually hopes for. Sorry, but I am also just jaded enough as a person to know that even otherwise acclaimed work does take time to really hit a certain level of popularity. Luke Pearson e.g., wrote and drew the first volume of the comic series Hilda in 2010, just a few months after he finished college. The comic was a success and resulted in him publishing up to four more books till 2016. But only with his comic being adapted into a Netflix series in 2018 did he also get recognition outside of Great Britain, from which he is likely going to make enough money to have a comfortable life for the next couple of years. Mind you, I said comfortable, not “luxurious”. Cause this is actually one thing I fear with Dobson to a degree: That he thinks that being a successful comic creator equals also becoming stinking rich. Cause as far as I know, this is not really the case for many comic creators around the world. But I digress.

This post is not about the potential delusions of Dobson when it comes to how much of a fortune he could make through a successful publication, this post is about judging a SYAC story that got never published.

And frankly, the story of Kevin James… I don’t hate it. Honestly, I think there is potential for a decent, even longer story about a webcomic artist trying to get his big break. The problem is, this is not a story about the challenges Kevin faces in creating his comic. This is not the story about someone being determined to get his work out, even if he struggles in real life. This is not the story of someone facing and dealing with his real life struggles in a mature way, making the happy end all the more feel rightfully earned. This is a story where honestly there would be no drama at all (or at least less drama), if Kevin even attempted to do something halfway logical most other people in real life would do, if they found themselves in his situation (like looking for a job, trying to work commissions etc.) . And a drama where the dramatic event would not happen if some basic logic even a kid can think off would be applied, is at least for me not really a drama.

So yeah, it is not the worst thing by Dobson, but it is very flawed to say the least.

[ginnyzero]

If That Mood... Part 2

So, the bills are paid. The kids are off with their dad at the park. You’ve managed to ignore the last three days of dishes and are resolved to put it off one more day. It’s time to write. There are no distractions. You’ve reduced stress. You’ve slept well. You’ve got the snack and drink right next to the computer. It’s time to get cracking! You’re hyped. You’re positive.

An hour later, you’re playing online solitaire slumped over the keyboard with maybe a sentence written in your story. The kids are pounding back into the house screaming about the great time they had at the park and little Jimmy fell off the monkey bars. You save your sentence and decide that maybe you really ought to go do the dishes instead feeling glum that despite everything. You weren’t able to write. And you need to be sure little Jimmy didn’t hurt himself, because boys and dads.

It’s frustrating! You’ve got this really cool idea in your head, but you just don’t know how to begin, or continue or maybe finish!

Sometimes, it’s not really the story or the idea or distractions or anything like that. Sometimes, we get bound up so much in our own heads that our writing has to be great, and perfect and absolutely amazing right out of the gate and nothing we think of is good enough to be the next great novel. (Because we all want to be that writer who sends something to an agent and have them charge in on their boss and go “you’ve got to read this!”) We get so caught up and bound up in this idea of perfection that we get absolutely nothing done because we’re just so busy trying to be perfect.

Take a deep breath and let it out and as you do, push your hands out in front of you and think along the lines of “I don’t have to be perfect.” Push this idea of perfection away from you, let it go.

Acceptance isn’t easy. At some point, you have to sit back and go “I am using so much energy fretting about being perfect, that I could be putting into writing and make it perfect later.” You see, that first draft is going to always represent the lowest denominator of your ability to write. It isn’t going to be a shining diamond that publishers are going to want to print thousands of copies of. It’s going to be like a rock with a diamond in the middle of it and you’ve got to first write the rock, then you work on chiseling that diamond out on the second draft and with the third you can grind some facets into it. (Yes, facets are ground, not chipped no matter what you see in cartoons.) When you’re writing, you’re climbing a ladder. The first draft is the first rung that gets you off the ground. You have to take that step even if it is dross!

Oh, you’re not perfect but you’re still having problems you say?

My first question is usually is the story in question really a good story? (This is a harsh one. So, please, don't get mad! It isn't personal.) Does it have a plot? Is there conflict and action? Is there movement? Does the character change? If the answers to these questions are ‘no’ then there is a bunch of work to be done.

But if you do have all these things and are caught on a pesky scene that isn’t going anywhere. It’s in your head (no matter where it is story wise) and you’re just not sure how to go about it. You can’t seem to get it written down. It’s not dynamic enough. It feels boring.

All right, is the character only acting with himself? If the character is only acting with himself, yes, it tends to be boring because the character only has himself to bounce off of. A lot of times, you can’t get away with having the character only interacting with himself early on in the story (or even in the middle of the story.) There’s no action. People get bored. They shut the book. The scene needs to be rethought out. Is there another way to give that same information that involves another character? Or, do you need to give this poor character a pet? The character needs someone or something to interact with to create a sense of movement.

Next are the three important questions. What does the character think? What does the character see? And what is the character doing? If you’re stuck on a scene, open another document, grab a sheet of paper, summarize what is going on and then ask your important questions. What are his thoughts? Agreeable, snarky, skeptical? Usually a character’s thoughts reveal how they feel about the situation, angry, happy, sad, etc. What is in the environment around the character? What do other characters look like? What are the other characters doing? What does the character think about what he is seeing? Maybe there is a fruit bowl with papaya in it and the character just really hates papaya. And lastly, what is the character doing? Surely, this character has some mannerisms that can be exploited. Do they toss their head? Or do they get red when embarrassed? Maybe when they’re angry they clench their fists. Or kick the floor when they’re nervous. Do they have excess energy and are constantly pacing. This will help the reader know what type of character they are, anxious, bouncy, laid back and so on.

Sometimes I find it helpful to script out dialogue in advance. I love dialogue. I spent a lot of time trying to work on dialogue that wasn’t just question and answer exchanges or something out of Emily Post. When you’ve got dialogue in advance, later you can go back in and answer the three previous questions and know, “well, here I can put some pauses in the dialogue whereas over here, I need the dialogue to be snappy back and forth exchanges.”

Other times, I like to work out what is a typical situation for this group or person. Then comes the fun part, putting the character into the middle of this situation and having them describe what they see and what they think is going on. Different characters have different viewpoints. Some will love the situation, others will be wondering when they can leave, and yet others will be skeptical of the whole affair. (This is why I’m a character writer, not a plot writer.) (And here we are at 1000 words again.)

And if none of this works, and you’re still stuck, it could be your brain is telling you that you’re just not prepared enough to write this particular story. Maybe you haven’t figured the character out enough yet, or there aren’t enough scenes or plot to keep you going. Or maybe you’re just trying to punch a hole through a brick wall called writers block. And you’ve got some options if this is the case.

You can go and write some short back stories to your characters. Help you learn their voices, where they came from and where they’re going. What are their goals? What drives them? Why do they hate papaya? Maybe once you get into their heads a little more, you’ll be able to move onto the main story you want to write. Or maybe one of these short stories will blossom into a longer story of its own and that is the story you needed to write before you could write the one you first came up with. (It happens.)

Or, you can take a break from frustration and pick a writing prompt! There are lots and lots of internet communities and sites that have fun little memes of prompts to help the struggling writer find something to write about. Now, you can do the prompts with your character and as above, learn more about the character and become comfortable with their voice. Or, you can choose to do it about yourself. Or create a new character. The goal here is to write and to get used to writing every day. By giving your brain a break from writing what has been frustrating you, you never know, in the middle of your lazy hot shower, you’ll have a break through moment and have to rinse super quickly to get out and start writing with a towel around your torso!

(Seriously, the shower and before I go to bed at night are the best places for ideas.)

As you can see, there are a lot of reasons why a writer can get stuck and not be able to write. Sometimes it is as simple as they’re so bound up in their own head about being perfect that it feels impossible to put words onto the screen. Other times, the foundations of the story just aren’t in place and the writer is working against themselves trying to come up with the plot and conflict as they are writing instead of taking the time to step back and figure it out first. There are times when entire scenes need to be rethought out to see if there is a better way of showing the information that the reader needs. When this happens, three questions can be really useful, think, see and do. Sometimes, it is easier to write the dialogue and fill in what happens later, just to get the dialogue down. Or there is a situation that happens to this group of people all the time, what happens when I put a character in that situation? If nothing feels like it is working, maybe the writer isn’t ready to write that story at that time. Maybe they need to write short stories about the character’s past or take up some writing prompts. Or set the story aside all the together and focus on something else until they have an idea for the first story.

Writing is such an individual thing, that some of these or none of these may work for you. And that’s okay, finding your own way is perfectly fine. Maybe these ideas will get you started or spring board into your own ideas to get focused and get moving on writing (or whatever your hobby is.)