Yeti enforcement, Sin CIty PD and the ease of writing over drawing

First page of the scene "My name is scam" which is a pun on a Sean Penn film, in name only. I haven't seen "My name is Sam," and don't know anything about it. Or Sean Penn. [My wife says it's about a mentally handicapped man who has a daughter ... and the plot thickens.]



Graphic novel news

Ceredo resident releases latest graphic novel
PAUL SEBERT
For The Herald-Dispatch

HUNTINGTON -- An agent of the U.S. Marshall's Black Badge Division, Wynonna Earp investigates cases where organized crime meets the supernatural.

In previous adventures she's dealt with a mummy hitman, werewolf bikers and even had a shoot-out with zombie post office workers in the middle of Ceredo. First appearing in comics in 1997, Wynonna Earp is the brainchild of Ceredo native Beau Smith. Smith has been writing comic books since 1985. Earp's newest adventure is a graphic novel titled "Wynonna Earp: The Yeti Wars."

The book, which retails for $17.99, is written by Smith and illustrated by Enrique Villangran with colors by Kris Carter. It is published by IDW Publishing, the third largest comic company in the United States.

"I wanted to go a little deeper into the world of paranormal organized crime in the new book," Smith said. "Just as in our world you have hierarchy of Yakuza, Mafia, etc., you have one in Wynonna Earp's world. You have the Immortals, who are at the top of the food chain, followed by Vampires, Werewolves, etc., until you get down to the zombies, who are the lowest form. The story opens up with her going up against a southern fried mad scientist named Dr. Billy Joe Rubidoux. Rubidoux likes to mesh the DNA of animals with people to create enforcers for the players in the organized crime world. She ends up stumbling onto a range war between the Vampire Nation and the Consortium of the Immortals."

The Yeti in this book are enforcers for an evil consortium of immortals, according to Smith. Earp calls in a tribe of Bigfoot to fight on the side of good.

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Sin City: That Yellow Bastard, Volume 4 – Graphic Novel Review
Reviewer: Eden Zacarias
Comicrevolution.wordpress.com

By now you probably already know that in this office we are devoted fans of Frank Miller’s impressive body of work when it comes to comics and the Sin City collection is among some of his very best seeing as he offered numerous stories true to the crime genre of the days when pulp comics were as dark as black coffee. In its fourth volume, That Yellow Bastard is another brilliant offering in the Sin City books and one hell of a story that you won’t forget anytime soon.

It’s a cold night in Sin City as John Hartigan of the Sin City Police Department, just an hour before his forced retirement thanks to a bad heart condition, gets a call from a reliable source that the son of the powerfully corrupt Senator Roark – who just so happens to be a very sick and twisted serial rapist/killer – has abducted an eleven-year old girl named Nancy Callahan and holding her in a warehouse pier. A cop to the very end, Hartigan will stop at nothing to save little Nancy even with his partner trying hard to stop him. Unfortunately, it had to take a punch in the jaw to keep his partner from following.

Just as he is making his way into the warehouse, Hartigan comes close to having a heart attack but manages to push through and catch up to Junior who has taken the cute girl hostage. Without blinking or even thinking of the consequences, Hartigan blows off both Junior’s “weapons” and before he can do any more damage it is Hartigan’s own partner that shoots him in the back.

While he managed to save a very grateful Nancy, Hartigan is rushed to a hospital only to awaken to a shocking reality. You see, instead of being hailed as a hero, Senator Roark has pulled all the strings and used all his dirty money to make Hartigan the villain and his comatose son a victim. Roark, clearly a man too powerful to mess with in anyway, makes it clear that he wants Hartigan to suffer and beg for mercy. He threatens to kill anyone Hartigan tells. So in order to protect those around him, Hartigan has no choice but to take the fall, alienating everyone from his fellow cops to his own wife.

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Writing far easier than drawing: graphic novelist Sarnath Banerjee
Sify.com

Jaipur, Jan 25 (IANS) He describes the writers' block as creative constipation, has grown up reading Tintin comics and, with his third graphic novel, 'The Harappa Files', Sarnath Banerjee feels he has 'opened new forms' in this genre.

'My third book is more like an illustrated text. It opens up the form of graphic novels using design in an imaginative way. I am imploding the form, I am working with it all the time, constantly playing with it,' a spirited Banerjee told IANS.

Clad in maroon pants, brown half-sleeve shirt and black coat with intentionally mismatched green socks, which he proudly shows off at the drop of a hat, Banerjee makes sure he turns many heads at the Jaipur Literature Festival.

His enviable socialising skills were on display as he enthusiastically shook hands every 30 seconds and broke into an embrace every 50.

'I love people. I have an enormous capacity for people. I love socialising and picking up gossip. I am not those silent writer types, I write in a very social sort of way,' said a very pleased with himself Banerjee.

'Just put two people together and the stories will come out. They might be looking all nice and happy and smiling, but deep inside they might be waiting to just stab each other. Just a tiny bit of imagination and you've got a story.'

His first novel 'Corridor' (2004), an awfully clever and enjoyable read, established him as an intelligent writer. His work is most definitely adult, bordering on the lines of porn, plus the humour and minus the explicit details.

The 38-year-old says he takes inspiration from people around him.

'Most of the characters in my book are people I know. It's a combination of different bobs, bits and pieces of people I have known, or I imagine I have known. It's like vaguely remembered phantom memories of a person which comes out very clearly etched sometime,' he said, tousling his already dishevelled curly hair.

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