Behind the Scenes of Whatever Happened To ....

Whatever happened to that shy archaeologist from Pennsylvania? This scene is a moment for Dr. Bolam and Dr. Miller to take stock of their situation, and sort of reflect on their journey so far, and perhaps for the readers, too, to think back on how he's changed and grown.

Follow on Twitter or Facebook!

That was the hope, anyhow. Plus, I needed a segue that helped carry them from Cyprus to Turkey, instead of just saying, "Later, in Turkey."

I hope when you look at this, you can see and feel that it's a time for reflection and perhaps even personal introspection, as no doubt Dr. Miller has to realize his life will never be the same from now on.

really rough, hardly any background

Sometimes when I enter a new scene where I have to create a whole new environment for the characters to exist in, like the slaughterhouse earlier. I'll do a lot of web browsing to pick and choose how the areas should look and try and envision the mood I'd like to be captured.

And then there are scenes like this, where I just pencil in where in a panel I want the characters to stand, and then I just fill in the background and setting way afterwards, hoping that the lack of preparation doesn't bite me in the ass.

basically just blocking

Another challenge is to try and draw some parallels between where the position of the sun is in each sequential scene. I've become acutely aware of how many dark, late night scenes I've drawn, because it's put a great strain on my 6B pencil. It's getting more use than Aaron Hernandez's lawyer.

So I was eager to get into the daylight again and have some nice scenes outside. I'm getting back to that now that they're out of the slaughterhouse and back in transit to a new country and a setting that we haven't visited since Act I, way back in the early days!

Sometimes I feel like I'm not honouring the process enough when I skip over the rough-sketch stage, and no doubt, it'll come at a price. I just felt a bit rushed and wanted to offer an update. The pacing over the summer is a challenge because we've got so much more going on (or so it feels, anyhow).

Kodikas Galanos and balancing panels

Code Blue - - which in hospital slang is generally used to indicate a patient in need of immediate medical attention. Switch that into Greek, Cyprus' national language (along with Turkish, I understand) and you've got the name of the latest scene, Kodikas Galanos.

And not to be too confusing with the language switche-r-oo, I even made a point to specifically point out that Blue in Greek is Galanos way back on page 130. So that's where the name comes from, if you were wondering.

Once again, I wanted to keep the scenes short, for two reasons; first, it quickens the pace of storytelling, which is more exciting for readers (I hope) and second; it's more interesting for me to write and draw these scenes when they don't take a whole month to produce.

I hate drawing cars - - I totally avoided even sketching a car in this page. I just hate it.

I felt in an earlier scene that the downpouring rain turned out nicely, or at least accomplished what I hoped it would visually, so I was eager to include it again, and this seemed like as good a time as any. There was no call for rain in the script.

The script did, however, feature more gesticulation and language barriers between the motorist and Ian Escutcheon, but ... again ... for the sake of brevity, I eliminated that. Perhaps it would have been better if this were a more comedic moment, but the urgency I was hoping to imply didn't allow for it.

I couldn't fit the image into a quarter panel at the top, so I turned it into a banner-shape on the fly.

Sometimes the images don't fit, and instead of redrafting them, I just change it on the fly, without even erasing the guidelines. It doesn't feel necessary to be too refined in a quick draft. What's most useful when I'm putting these draft pages together is finding a way to share the images in a balanced manner.

For example, in the above page, four consecutive square panels might have looked a little to "geometric" or "blocky," and could have been a visual distraction. That might be useful at some point, but it didn't feel like a natural fit in this scene.

If I understand correctly, most comics writers draw on much larger sheets of paper, and then they're scaled down to fit into the standard comic book format, whereas I simply use 8.5"x11" common stock paper. When you've got a larger page, you have more room to do creative things with the panels, and add a lot more detail, which is later shrunk down into a really fine piece of work.

It'd be neat to try some time - - in fact, I actually used one and a half pages to draw this page: 
 

Follow the link to get a closer look, but I meant to put a LOT more detail into this page, because I wanted to really impress the spectacle of entering the Church of St. Lazarus. I think it turned out really well, though, if you look, in the middle panel amidst the seats, you can see the seam where I married the two pages together to complete the final image.

At first glance, I'd hope you wouldn't notice it - - granted, now I've pointed it out, it probably sticks out unavoidably.

The reason I did this was because I wanted the three saints hanging on the wall behind Dr. Miller to be more detailed than a small panel would allow. If you're familiar with your old saints (I'm not, but IF you are) you might recognize Saint Demitrius, Saint Moses the Black and Saint George the Dragon Slayer.

I think the added effort was worth while.

I wanted them to appear as faithfully as I could reproduce them. When they're just the size of a half of a dime on the original page I'm working on, it's hard to include any more detail than a mere shadow. Taking the extra time to draw them much larger than usual, and then shrinking it down, made all the difference.

ALL of that being said, finding a nice balance on a small page can sometimes be a challenge, I guess that's what I was trying to say.

Thanks for checking in - - if you have any questions, let me know, I'll be happy to answer them.