Why Legion?

Over the last six weeks or so I've been inhaling the work of Noah Hawley. I've read his two most recent novels, The Good Father and Before the Fall, and watched two seasons of Fargo--which were great. 

His latest TV adaptation is the obscure X-Men villain David Haller, or Legion, premiering on FX this Wednesday. It looks refreshingly Kubrickian, so I'm excited to see it. 

Legion is a schizophrenic telepath and telekinetic created by Chris Claremont and Bill Sienkiewicz and is the son of Professor X. There's more background in this great article by NY Magazine's Abraham Riesman. 

So the prompt for today is: Imagine you're in a psych ward for multiple personality disorder, but you're not really sick. You have the ability to enter other people's minds, thinking that you're someone else. You're having an "episode". What does it look like? Or whatever you want. 

Why Discovery?

I really like simple prompts.

Based on my past activity, this may not surprise you.

Purity is probably too strong of a word for it, but I do find that simple prompts have a certain elegance to them. Perhaps simple isn't quite the word I'm looking for here. A single word will almost always call a particular image or idea to mind, but if you have the right one, that initial thought will vary from person to person. And if you're really lucky, the more one thinks about it, the more things it will bring to mind.

If you'll excuse me tooting my own horn, I think "Discovery" fits firmly into that latter category.

When I first considered Discovery as my selection, I was thinking squarely in the physical realm - strolling about a new city to find its various treasures, crossing over the distant mountains to see what's on the other side, clambering aboard a ship to find lies across the ocean - but the more I sat with it, the wider I cast my net. Going bigger into the dark, empty realms of space. Or smaller into the visible deaths of atoms and their like.

Of course, even such dramatic alternatives remain trapped firmly in the realm of the corporeal. What of the many ideas. And philosophies that men and women have pondered throughout our history? The many inventions that have defined our past and present and the ones that will yet define our future? There are all manner of problems and questions that we have overcome, but they are far outnumbered by those that we have yet to solve, let alone contemplate.

Even as I mull over these few, if multifaceted, interpretations,  I know I am only scratching the surface. There are many more that I am overlooking perhaps some of them are springing to your mind, thoughts unbidden if not unwelcome.

If so, I'd love to see your interpretations. One page isn't a lot, but it's still plenty of room to explore and discover something new.

Why Christmas Stories?

One of my family’s traditions is to watch National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation every Christmas. Written by the great John Hughes, the movie follows the hijinks of the Griswold family [Chevy Chase, Randy Quaid, et al.] and is a source of tremendous fun.

Over the years there have been quite a lot of movies of hilarious Christmas fun including Bad Santa, but National Lampoon’s Christmas will always be the best one of the bunch. So this week’s task is to adapt a Christmas Story of your choice. I’m going to go with the Griswolds, and I hope you select something that is fun for you. Happy holidays!

Why Hope?

I mean, you really only need to look out the window, right?

If there's ever been a time for hope, it feels like 2016 is definitely it.  The world has always had its problems, but it's hard not to feel like this year has seen a sharp turn for the worse.  For the harder.  For the meaner.

I won't bother listing headlines, but the extensive list does lend itself to the kind of feeling of dread and seeming futility that is hard to shake.  Hell, it can be hard to do anything in the face of the sheer amount of awfulness that just keeps coming.  It can feel to the point where hoping things will get better can feel impossible.  Where it would be easier to do nothing.

However, I think we also know - in our heart of hearts - that that's wrong.  As bleak as things may feel, they can get better.  But just as sitting around in fear is not a long-term solution, neither is sitting around in hope.

So often when we think of hope, it's in the sense of believing that something will occur.  But it cannot be passive.  Hope must be active.  We have to get out and make it happen.  Change won't come and things won't improve if we don't.  Whether it's attending protests and demonstrations, participating in community organizing, helping those in need, being an ally, or any number of a long, long list - a list that includes making art - it's up to us to act in the face of hope.  To make our hopes a reality, big or small, every action helps.

I'm under no illusion that some comic scripts will save the world.  But they might make it a little bit better.

I hope you'll agree.

Why Thanksgiving?

As holidays goes, Thanksgiving is not the most glamorous of the bunch.  While we've got all manner of Halloween, Valentine's, and of course, Christmas media adaptations, Thanksgiving is noticeably underserved.  Halloween translates into any number of horror franchises, Valentine's is rife for rom coms, and Christmas has any number of specials.  Even Easter and St. Patrick's Day do better with narrative inspirations.

I suppose "being thankful" may not necessarily the easiest emotion state of being to capture in fiction.  It also doesn't really help that the origin of Thanksgiving is kind of murky (hooray for pilgrims? harvests? turkeys?) and that the main activities associated with the holiday are eating lots and watching a parade on TV (that's still a thing, right?).

But maybe that's the wrong way to think about it.  If it was easy, would it really be worth doing?  And as flippant as I might be here, the message of coming together with friends and family and giving thanks for one's blessings is a pretty universal one.

We may be a week early (as a Canadian, I have only the vaguest of understandings when American Thanksgiving takes place), but I hope you can find something to write thankful about and that you'll be kind enough to share it with us.

Legit best part of the holiday.

Why Inktober?

For those unfamiliar, Inktober is an annual event where artists from around the globe create an ink drawing every day for the month of October (thus the name) and post it to social media with the #inktober hashtag. The drawing can be as eloborate or as simple as the creator wishes. The important thing is to practice and improve, bit by bit.

The parallels may not escape you.

The internet tells me that the whole thing was started by Jake Parker in 2009 as a challenge to himself to improve his inking skills and develop positive drawing habits. I think those are laudable goals, but what really appeals to me about the whole thing is the plethora of art that spills onto the web throughout the month. There's all manner of amazing stuff as artists experiment, try new things, and just have some fun.

My only complaint - if I were to have one - is that there isn't much room in Inktober for the writer. But that's really only true if you're lacking for imagination. Last year I decided to play along by writing a new page of comic script every day (a practice I'm doing again this year), but I figured for our purposes I might try something a little different.

I want to celebrate Inktober here at Thought Balloons by getting writers involved with the whole thing. So this week, jump on your social media of choice and track down some of those amazing Inktober pieces, find one that resonates with you, and write a script inspired by it. It can be a direct continuation of the image. It can be based on the feeling the image creates in your mind. All that matters to me is that you find something you like and have fun with it.

So Thought Ballooners new and old, find something you like and make something of your own from it. And most of all, don't forget to credit! :)

Why The Time Machine by H.G. Wells?

It’s my favorite story. Written by H.G. Wells in 1895 this engages an inventor in 1899, who invents a machine that takes him a million years into the future. He meets two species in the year 852,271—the Eloi and the Morlocks. The Eloi live above ground and the Morlocks are underground. The novel doesn’t suggest it, but humans escaped some kind of ecological collapse or nuclear wear and the Eloi are the humans who took the chance and stayed above ground and the Morlocks escaped to the caves.

The book has been adapted into several films. Most recently the Guy Pearce starring Time Machine, directed by Wells's great grandson. Most famously there's George Pal’s interpretation. My favorite, though, was Time After Time which follows Wells [Malcolm McDowell] and Mary Steenburgen as they track down Jack the Ripper who has stolen Wells’ machine to San Francisco in the 1970s. It is the perfect storm of Hollywood trickery and butchering of a classic story. Like the Phantom of Paradise.

Time travel stories are my favorite so I’m eager to see what everyone does with it.

Why Uncle Scrooge?

Alright, you caught me. I'm not a big Uncle Scrooge comic fan. But growing up I did happen to enjoy the Duck-universe via the popular DuckTales television show. The stories of Scrooge McDuck and his nephews were always enthralling to me. They were full of adventure, mystery, and the occasional dash of the preposterous. It is a universe where a giant pile of gold coins switches between acting as a solid or a liquid and strange inventions have equal odds of ruining the day as saving it. Despite that, or maybe because of it, the stories also represent an opportunity to explore themes that were down to earth while remaining accessible for the young.

Yes. That's Uncle Scrooge skiing down a large pile of money.

 Plus, it provides an opportunity to tell whacky stories. 

So this week, look at what kind of stories you can tell surrounding the clan of ducks that happens to include the richest duck on the planet.

Why Lonely Island?

No, no, I'm not referring to Akiva Schaffer, Andy Samberg, and Jorma Taccone's comedy trio (although their music and bits are well worth doing so if you're unfamiliar with the group).  What I'm wanting to draw your attention to this week is the picture you see below:

You can find this image on most any "abandoned places" list you'll come across on the internet, but if you start doing any amount of digging, its actual provenance is murky at best.  Variously listed as a "Soviet naval testing station", "Eighth factory shop", "marine weaponry test facility", "Dagdizel", and "Dagdiesel", it does not lend itself to easy discovery.  If you google those latter two terms, most of the hits are for a defunct soccer team or a Russian engineering firm.

Trying to dig deeper into its backstory, the island facility seems to have been built in the Caspian Sea near Makhachkala, a Russian city I'd never heard of that apparently has a population of over fine hundred thousand souls.  It might have gone up during the Second World War.  Or it might have been built later than that.  Either way, it hasn't been used much of late and its web presence is frustrating, to say the least.  Its latitude and longitude are apparently known, although Google Maps, nefariously terrible at water, does not help you actually see it.

The above mystery was a nice bonus when it came to digging into the picture's origins, but the image itself is what really grabs me.  This is a building erected on water.  As far as it appears, there was not any actual land for it to be built upon.  Huge amounts of effort must have gone into the endeavour, and yet, for whatever reason, it was ultimately decided that abandoning the facility was the only acceptable course of action, leaving all that hard work to rot.

Maybe your interpretation is different than my own.  Maybe its mysterious origin is what speaks to you.  Either way, I want to see what this inspires in you, because it's inspired quite a lot in me.

Why "I Hate Fairyland"?

Perhaps you are not familiar with Skottie Young's creator-owned work, "I Hate Fairyland".

I Hate Fairyland - #1

The story is about Gertrude, a small girl who wishes to visit Fairyland, a wonderland full of everything magical, majestic, cuddly, and wuddly. And, much to her misfortune, she gets that wish. What starts as a dream come true becomes a neverending nightmare as Gertrude is unable to leave. Cue her languishing in Fairyland for over 20 years. Mentally she matures, but physically she is still the same little girl. As she grows to hate Fairyland so does Fairyland grow to hate her.

So why would I choose this story? Well, why wouldn't I choose a story where a small girl goes around destroying a magical kingdom for personal pleasure and profit?

"I Hate Fairyland" takes a lot of wonderful childhood story tropes and subverts our expectations. We expect to see these stories rehashed and told over and over again. But there is another option. You can take that story, you can blow it up, resurrect it, shop its head off, feed it to alligators, and laugh maniacally as you prance away to wreak more havoc on the annoying little tidbits that seemed to haunt every childhood story.

For this week, take some element of a childhood story and make it silly, unexpected, ludicrous, and maybe just a little dark. A pegasus that's really a cow who likes to cosplay. Shoe elves with perverse fetishes. Cherubs that are just as likely to get you high on Molly as make you fall in love. An adventurer so sick of answering riddles they lose their mind.

Or, if that doesn't sound all that appealing, do something creative with the cast of "I Hate Fairyland". You got a surly adult woman trapped in child-like body, a fairytale queen high on power, a conscience who'd rather be doing anything else, and an endless cast of fairytale riffraff to tear apart.

Have fun.

Why Warm-Up Sketches?

I often wish I had taken the time to learn to draw.

There are a plethora of reasons for this, some of which you can surely guess at, but one of the main reasons is warm-up sketches.

These things are pure magic.  The idea that artists sit down with a blank sheet of paper, throw down some quick marks, and suddenly have a beautiful image, a thrilling story, is stupefying.  Of course I recognize that there's a lot more work to it than that and that warm-up sketches can be lead just as often as they can be gold (perhaps more so, even), but that doesn't lessen my admiration.

One such golden sketch is that which you see below, courtesy of .

It was accompanied by the following text:

This was bad. Very bad. He had finally found the scout, but his crumbling bones were not going to talk much. He sighed heavily, thinking of the best way to bring the news to the boss. He was not going to be happy.

Araújo threw this up on his and with no fuss or fanfare almost a year back, and it's been sticking at the back of my mind ever since.  As I said, pure magic.  That figure and those bones say so much that the din is deafening.  And I love it.

There's so many stories to be picked from this image that it's dizzying.  I know what I've found.  How about you?