It's a good sign when your blog post starts with "Uhg"

Uhg, my slave job has been bearing down on me this last month, and it is every bit as horrible as you would expect from something referred to as a slave job. What I find most stressful, is that my creative work always slows down. I mean, ya know, that's what happens when you have less time to devote to it. So, instead of getting anything done, I spend all my purloined time thinking. Thinking and thinking about all the things I want to get done. The bright side is that after all that thinking, I usually feel pretty inspired to get it all out there. This then leads to the frustrating dilemma of being really intent to produce work, but being too stressed out to really get anything done whenever I do have those few precious available moments. Not to mention, I have even less things to write about on here.

Fortunately for me, aside from thinking about all the cool things I do with an Aquaman book were I given the opportunity, I was also able to think about basic organization and planning. And I'm totally two bird/one stoning this thing.

In order to keep myself practiced and producing content for the blog at the same time, I've decided to serialize a story I've had brewing in me for some time now. The origin for this story came last year while I was sitting in the courthouse waiting for my name to be called. For those of you who've never had to go to court to deal with a ticket, it's boring. Luckily for me, I was being thoroughly entertained by the quiet ranting of an angry piece of white trash behind me. I can't remember his whole spiel, but it was amazing. I guess he was talking to his girlfriend or wife or something, but he went on about how all the cops around here are joyless bastards out to squelch his and his buds whenever they go out for a good time. The story really crescendoed up to the grand climax, where he claimed that he judge hated him, and if he had to go up there he was just gunna run, knowing that the bailiff wouldn't be able to tackle him. It was pretty great. I wish I could remember the whole story verbatim, but I can't because I was distracted by all the names getting called, listening for mine but never hearing it. But I did hear the following:

Frank Calico
Preston Rocket
Sandy Breeze
Jesse Gurly
Peter Poppins

No joke, I speak the absolute truth when I say these were real people's names. Frantically, I grabbed a pen and scribbled them down, because I knew that deep down inside me there was a noir story with these characters waiting to be written. It was a true moment of inspiration.

I stored the list away, waiting for the time when I would need it. Which is now. Starting next week, hopefully, I'll begin putting up chapters of what is tentatively titled, "Real Life/Real Death" a pulp noir story about Detective Frank Calico, as he tries to solve the murder of a Real-Life Superhero.

For those of you who don't know what a Real-Life Superhero is, well, enlighten yourself. As a superhero comics fan, I'm truly fascinated by Real-Life Superheroes. I realize that Ed Brubaker currently has a monopoly on Superhero noir, but as said before, this is first and foremost a project to keep myself busy and practiced(meaning it'll probably be an unedited, meandering mess). I don't like using the term "stream of conscious writing," but let's just say I'm Stephen Kinging this one.