Tagged: small

Emily S. Whitten: Marvelously Disney

When I was deciding on a topic for this week’s column, I tried hard to think about what in the comics world I wanted to tackle next – but instead, my brain just kept going, “Whoop Whoop Whoop Disney Disney Disney Alert Alert Alert You’re About To Go To Disney Wheeeeeeeeee.”

Yes, my brain really does do that. Especially when I’m about to go jaunt around Disney World (and Islands of Adventure and Harry Potter World, eeeee!) for four days straight. Between the excitement of being about to finally try real butterbeer, the knowledge that we’re arriving at Disney and Epcot smack in the middle of the Epcot Food & Wine Festival, and the fact that Universal Islands of Adventure now has four Marvel rides, including a re-vamped Spider-Man ride, I can barely string sentences together at all. Considering the last time I rode the Spider-Man ride at Islands of Adventure it turned me into Little Plucky from Tiny Toons (“I wanna do it again, I wanna do it agaaaaain!!!”), I expect incoherent excitement will also be my constant state once I get there.

But since I don’t think I could convince Editor-in-Chief Mike that jumping up and down in place while clapping is a valid substitute for a written column, I’ll try to contain myself long enough to be vaguely articulate and stuff over here. That doesn’t mean I can’t keep thinking about my upcoming trip, though. In fact, given Marvel and Disney’s close association these days (despite the fact that Universal continues to hold onto the licenses for their Marvel rides thus far), my trip is totally Relevant to Our ComicMix Interests, and I can’t help but wonder when we will start to see Marvel rides appearing at Disney World. Thinking of this mash-up of worlds has inspired me to new heights of column-writing silliness. Therefore, I give you:

If Marvel Characters had Disney Origin Stories

[Wherein we re-imagine the origin of a Marvel villain featured in an Islands of Adventure ride, with the assumption that he was born into, not the Marvel universe, but the Magic Kingdom. Surely this means his story will be full of cheerfulness and light, right?]

Meet Doctor Doom

Born into a family of Parisian gypsies, one of whom hangs around with a hunchback all the time, young Victor and his father (no mention is made of his mother, because this is Disney, and mysteriously missing a parent at a young age is common) lose track of their caravan and roam the countryside together trying to find it until, through a tragic misunderstanding, hunters searching for food accidentally shoot his father, thinking he is a deer (oh no!). Upon losing his father, Victor wanders far and wide, but comes to rest in a small country town where he makes friends with a group of stray Dalmatian puppies who bring him bits of food in exchange for him patching up their hurt paws and ears.

Unfortunately, the Dalmatians all run away after a tall lady with crazy eyes and an extreme fondness for black and white clothes wanders into their alley hideaway making grasp-y motions, leaving the adolescent animal doctor on his own to wander again. He is very sad, because he likes puppies, and now he has none. But as luck would have it, upon reaching the sea nearby, Victor encounters a kindly-seeming purple-skinned sorceress who recognizes that he is gifted with extraordinary magical abilities. Offering to take him under her tentacle and teach him the ways of magic for the low price of just a couple of toes, she and Victor have many wacky adventures (like when he tries to use her magic hat and broom to help him with the chores and the water just gets everywhere).

But just when all seems well again in the young man’s life, he discovers that his mentor was actually responsible for his father’s death – she had sent the hunters out to bring her fresh meat because she was really-super-tired of eating fish! Oh no! Enraged to learn she was responsible for his earlier loss, Victor loses control of his magic and sets a nearby oil slick on fire (thus teaching us a valuable environmental lesson about how bad it is to have oil slicks lying around just everywhere in the ocean) which sadly scorches his face. In a fit of teenage rebellion he puts on a soothing metal mask his teacher has just lying around (because who doesn’t have one of those?) and storms out of his apprenticeship, taking the ol’ sea witch’s favorite big black pot with him too, just for spite.

Now alone once more and getting thirsty, Victor tries to magic up some tea in his new crochan – but instead of tea filling the pot, a voiceless version of himself climbs out! Deciding this is better than tea, he makes enough Voiceless Victors to play a good game of football with him. Disastrously, one of the VVs kicks the ball into a farmyard, where it whacks a big white pig in the head, which makes the pig-keeper angry. The pig-keeper, whose name is Reed, vows to get even, and chases Victor all over the countryside trying to beat up his football team and break his pot. At which point Victor, parentless, mentor-less, pet-less, slightly toe-less, vaguely face-less, and still really, really thirsty, decides that he’s just about had it with this nonsense, and says the hell with it; he’s going to create an army of Voiceless Victors and take over the worrrrllldddd. And thus, a new evil villain is born.

…But he still likes puppies.

The End

This column has been brought to you by the letters M and D, and way, way too many endorphins. Please forgive it for being kind of ridiculous.

And until next time, Servo Lectio!

WEDNESDAY MORNING: Mike Gold

 

REVIEW: Ruby Sparks

A writer’s character coming to life is nothing new. It was done effectively on The Twilight Zone and Sharon Stone even portrayed a muse come to life to bedevil Albert Brooks. As a result, the premise behind the charming Ruby Sparks is not at all fresh but the approach is what makes this small film well worth your time and attention.  That it is heartfelt and well-constructed is to be expected considering the movie comes from Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris who first caught our attention with Little Miss Sunshine. They have been missed.

Paul Dano is Calvin, an author who hit his first novel out of the park and has been struggling to remain commercially relevant ever since (think Jonathan Franzen). Then, finally, he creates a character, Ruby, who genuinely stirs his soul thanks to a prompt given him by his therapist (Elliott Gould). The pages flow easily for the first time in a decade. A week later, though, Ruby (Zoe Kazan) has come to life and is found sitting on his couch, ready to experience life. Ruby is 26, doesn’t own a computer and always roots for the underdog, something Calvin most certainly is.

What does one do when the woman of his dreams is made manifest? If he imagined her to life, can he or should he alter her to his exact specifications? And that is what propels the remainder of the film, a sitcom version of magical realism. Does he share her with the world, make love to her, or admire her from afar? His brother Harry (Chris Messina) says jump her after realizing she is the women Calvin has been writing about.

What starts out as a pretty funny comedy takes on serious tones as we progress and the shifting mood isn’t smoothly handled. It raises some interesting question and only partially answers them, leaving you somewhat entertained, somewhat dissatisfied. This is about Calvin growing up and we watch him flail all over the place despite a support system including his mom and his step-father (nice cameos from Annette Bening and Antonio Banderas). Calvin remains a mess, still in pain after breaking up with his last girlfriend (Deborah Ann Woll), and has a tough relationship with his lousy literary agent (Steve Coogan).

Dano and Kazan are wonderful together, ably supported by the deep, veteran cast. They rise above the film when the material gets weak or meanders but overall leave you entertained from beginning to end. This could have benefitted from a stronger script but still remains entertaining and thoughtful, not at all a bad combination.

The transfer to Blu-ray by 20th Century Home Entertainment is excellent and the disc comes with the standard assortment of special features. Most feel like they came from the press materials with little shot specifically for the disc. You get a handful of pieces ranging in length from three minutes to four minutes, never letting you delve deep into the film itself.

Dennis O’Neil: Superman and the Big Blow

This week I thought maybe I’d do a few hundred words on Superman. Instead, I find myself sitting here wishing that Superman really existed and I knew him and he owed me a favor and I had him on speed dial.

Another big blow coming. Here we go again.

I saw my first hurricane when I was on an aircraft carrier in the Caribbean. I watched gigantic waves breaking over the ship’s bow and thought, wow – this’ll make a man believe in an Almighty. It was a glorious experience and I’m glad I had it.

A couple of years ago I had dinner with old friend/colleague Annie Nocenti, who was shortly to leave to teach a film class in Haiti. She was there when Katrina decimated that eternally tormented island nation. For while, I lost touch with her and I worried. But she was okay and we’ve exchanged emails since.

Next came a trip to the Midwest and a tornado that passed about a half mile from our hotel. The next morning Marifran and I drove through the suburb she grew up in. It looked like a toy town kicked by a careless child.

Then home again and soon…our gal Hurricane Irene, the fifth costliest big wind in U.S. history. We lost two trees, one of which hit and damaged the car. It could have been worse.

And now, on a gloomy October 27, the weather folk are saying that Sandy will be worse than Irene. “Widespread devastation” – that was the phrase one forecaster used. What to do? Not much. Fill jugs and sinks with water. Put inside the stuff on the lawn. Make sure we have batteries for the radio, and canned food that can be eaten cold if necessary. And…hold on to our asses. Tuesday morning’s when the fun is expected to start. It will all be over by Wednesday; Thursday at the latest. Happy Halloween.

Enter he who isn’t – Superman. Surely a guy who can “change the course of mighty rivers and bend steel in his bare hands” can deal with a lot of feisty wind. (Though, I admit, bending steel is pretty small potatoes.) Part of the reason we invented superheroes – and, cynics might aver, deities – is that sometimes we feel helpless and sometimes we are helpless and we want…no, we need to believe that some great something who likes us, some mamadaddy who offers unconditional love, will come along to save us. Imagining such a being might be better than nothing. Believing in such a being might be even better.

Deja vu, anyone? (And yes, I know that one of the synonyms for deja vu is “boredom.”) Okay, I’ve perpetrated this kind of blather before, less than a year ago. So let me make a deal with the universe: you stop throwing monster storms at me and I’ll stop whining.

I mean, I lived the first 71 years of my life having experienced only two total hurricanes (and a couple of tornados, but maybe they shouldn’t count.) Now – two in two years? C’mon, universe!

Ah, but the universe doesn’t negotiate, does it?

Maybe Superman does.

 (Editor’s note: Denny wrote this before Hurricane Sandy hit our area, and Ye Ed is ye editing it the same day. So whatever Sandy did to us… right now you know more about it than we do.)

FRIDAY: Martha Thomases, if the creek don’t rise.

 

HANCOCK TIPS HIS HAT TO ‘TEN-A-WEEK STEALE’

TIPPIN’ HANCOCK’S HAT- Reviews of All Things Pulp by Tommy Hancock

TEN-A-WEEK STEALE
by Stephen Jared
Solstice Publishing
303 Pages

It isn’t very often that an author comes along who simultaneously truly evokes the style and temperament of classic Pulp while adding modern sensibilities and more sophisticated phrases and tricks to the package.    We all strive for it and some of us have moments of it, but very rarely does a writer show up that does it well, consistently, and every time he puts his name on a book.

Meet Stephen Jared.

Author of TEN-A-WEEK-STEALE, Jared is a creator of all sorts.  He’s a writer of course, but he’s also done a bit of time in front of television and film cameras.   He has a love affair with acting and moreso with Hollywood, not Hollywood Today, but Hollywood bygone.   The time when people dreamed in black and white and movie moguls captured those fantasies on celluloid.  And Jared’s not just a devotee of the films of Hollywood.  He’s very much a historian of sorts, fiction being his tool to ferret into fact.  In his work he shows you the hubris, the horror, and the humanity that made Classic Hollywood both the Heaven and Babylon it truly was.

Stephen’s first book, JACK AND THE JUNGLE LION, took a look at the fantasy and fallacy of the classic Matinee idol.  TEN-A-WEEK STEALE pulls the curtain even farther back on the reality behind Hollywood by inserting a no nonsense lead character into the fray.  Walter Steale, a World War 1 Veteran, works as muscle for his brother, a politician with great aspirations and appetites, in the Los Angeles of the 1920s.   Almost by accident while handling what should be a small job for his brother, Steale stumbles into a tangle of murder, conspiracy, politics, and corpses as he goes from being hired help to Most Wanted by both sides of the law.

TEN-A-WEEK STEALE has been lauded as being a fantastic work in the tradition of the old Pulp/Noir masters and it is indeed that, but it is something else entirely.  Jared infuses every single word of this book not only with the past, but with the anxiety, the falsity, the need for truth of today.  Steale isn’t just a lost soul of the Great War, he’s an everyman pulled by no fault of his own really into situations that are far beyond him.   And, unlike many such types today, Steale doesn’t blend in, fade away, or go with the flow.  He comes out fighting, shooting, punching to maintain something that many today feel they’ve lost.   Being his own man.

If you enjoy great noir, this is the book for you.  If you thirst for a novel that balances Past and Present, go get TEN-A-WEEK STEALE by Stephen Jared.

FIVE OUT OF FIVE TIPS OF HANCOCK’S HAT-  The best of the best here, kid.

REVIEW: Bones the Complete Seventh Season

Bones has carefully straddled the line between light-hearted crime drama, ala Hart to Hart and taut melodrama. Over the seven seasons, showrunner Hart Hanson has carefully brought the main characters, Special Agent Seely Booth (David Boreanaz) and Dr. Temperance Brennan (Emily Deschanel), together, nicely balancing the “will they or won’t they?” romantic tension until finally, in the last season, they finally became a couple. Probably quicker than anticipated, thanks to a real life pregnancy, Brennan was with child.

The seventh season of Bones, now out on Blu-ray from 20th Century Home Entertainment, is a shorter than normal thirteen episodes because of the circumstances, but Hanson did not slow down the pacing, setting things up for a dramatic cliffhanger that left fans really hanging for the spring and summer.

Along the way, the supporting cast at the Jeffersonian Institute Forensic Sciences Department was also given their moments in the spotlight, proving they are one of the richest, most interesting ensembles on prime time. With all the personal issues surrounding the cast, it’s pretty impressive they still manage to fit in unique corpse of the week stories. Things kicked off with a body at a paintball event and continued forward. The forensic testing results remain ridiculously fast in arriving and Angela (Michaela Conlin) never meets a challenge whose butt she can’t kick so there are definite stretches of credulity, moreso this season than in the past. Sweets (John Frances Daley) lost some of his boyish charm as he grew deadly accurate with his service revolver.

The series nicely rotated the usual interns, freshening the group dynamic with regularity and the addition of southern gentleman Finn Abernathy (Luke Kleintank) was a nice addition. His flirtation and dating of Cam’s (Tamara Taylor) daughter was an interesting development that ultimately went nowhere.

The most unusual episode of the season has to be “The Suit on the Set” where Booth and Brennan travel to watch a film based on one of her books is being made. They skewer Hollywood’s inability to faithfully adapt a novel, going for busts and pyrotechnics over plot and characterization. A little silly but a refreshing change of pace.

The finale sees the return of criminal Christopher Pellant who goes out of his way to frame Brennan, turning her into a wanted felon. The problem here is that the circumstantial evidence mounts so high so fast, at least one of the characters should have at least questioned the absurdity of all this damning information pouring out at once. But nope, never happened. Instead, Brennan and her dad (Ryan O’Neal) take the baby and go on the run, leaving Booth behind.

Given the shortened season, one would have expected either additional special features to compensate or fewer given the dearth of material to work with. We get more of the latter than the former with two deleted scenes, commentary on one episode, a four minute Gag Reel, and two small pieces on the Hollywood episode. First, there’s Creating The Suit on the Set (10:59) on how the episode was made then a fun, fake Bone of Contention: On the Red Carpet (3:18)

I was late to the series and was able to plow through the first five seasons to jump on board but you cannot start cold with this season. It’s too involved in its continuity and character relationships to be totally accessible to a newcomer. But for those of us who are fans of this show, adapted from the novels by Kathy Reichs, it was a slid if flawed season and worth a second look.

Martha Thomases: Attack of the Con Brain!

People with cancer describe a phenomenon they call “chemo brain,” a side effect of the tumor-killing drugs that also destroys their short-term memory. I would like to coin another term.

Con brain!

Con brain is what happens to an otherwise mature adult after several days spent in the company of a hundred thousand comic and pop culture fans enclosed in a relatively small space for a comic book convention.

My experience started out simply enough. My friend, Vivek Tiwary, was on a panel at Jim Hanley’s Universe on “A Celebration of Pop Music Comics”, and he wanted me there, since I helped him to get the deal for his graphic novel with Dark Horse. The panel included friendly faces like David Gallaher and Jamal Igle. To my surprise, it also included Punk Magazine editor John Holmstrom, whom I’ve known for decades and who, in my opinion, is the most ripped-off person in comics and graphic design (a bold statement, I know, and too long an explanation for this column. Ask me later). Both Vivek and John gave me shout-outs, proving that I am the most important person in the rock’n’roll/comics intersection.

The next day, I went to the Javits Center early for a meeting. As it turned out, the hall was closed to anyone but exhibitors until later in the afternoon, but I know how to stride in with a group like I belong, so that wasn’t an issue. Everything went swimmingly. Alas, I made the mistake of leaving the hall, and had to use my hard-won knowledge of the building’s labyrinthine tunnels and hallways to get back in.

By the time the show actually opened, things quickly got so crowded and noisy that I couldn’t hear any of the people with whom I was walking, nor could I see where I was going. I went home, put a cat on my lap, and chilled.

On Friday, I had the most surrealistic experience of the show. I attend a bereavement support group that meets near 34th Street. When it was over, I walked to the center, going past Herald Square and Macy’s, Penn Station, Madison Square Garden, and large swaths of Manhattan with office buildings. And, interspersed with tourists, people with jobs on their lunch hour, and the normal New York horde, were people in costumes heading west. If anybody but me thought it was odd to see anime characters and guys with capes and masks walking down the street, they kept it to themselves.

From then on, all is a fog. I saw more people I like (including Walter Simonson, whom I might have hugged a little bit too long). I got hit in the face with more backpacks. I ruined more pictures by walking between the photographer and the subjects, because, I’m sorry, but just because you are in costume doesn’t mean you get to take up an entire aisle.

Still, I noticed a few things. It seemed to me that almost half the attendees were female, a huge change since I started going to these things. I don’t know if shows like The Big Bang Theory have reassured girls that they can handle geek culture, or if there are simply more of us out of the closet, but it’s a much better feeling from my first shows, when women would confide in me that they were followed into the bathroom by guys who couldn’t believe they were really girls at such an event.

Perhaps as a result, there were fewer artists in Artists Alley promoting characters with gigantic breasts and other impossible tricks of anatomy. I only remember one, whose super heroine had breasts started just under her clavicle and ended at her armpit. I mean, I like a little uplift, but, you know, ouch.

By the end of the show I sounded like every character in every action movie ever made, muttering “I’m getting too old for this shit.” I’m starting to feel that, as a short older person, I need to be lifted up on a chair and taken around the rooms carried by four shirtless body-builders, like a sultan from a Bob Hope sketch.

Still, I was moved by this story on the Bleeding Cool website, comparing four days at a comics convention to a religious experience. I envy those of you who get to experience this for the first time.

It’s a treasure. Don’t bury it.

SATURDAY: Marc Alan Fishman

 

Mike Gold: Little Ole New York Comic Con

ComicMix associate editor Adriane Nash and I knew we were in for it when, on Thursday morning last, there were nine other people waiting for the same commuter train who clearly were headed not to work but to the New York Comic Con. Trains run every half-hour, and ours is but one of a great, great many such stations. Do the math.

In total… one hundred thousand people. Some of whom bathed.

Sure, San Diegoans might smirk at a mere 100,000, but there are major differences between the two shows. First, it only took NYCC six years to reach the 100,000 mark. Second, the Javits Center is smaller and much more out of the way than the San Diego Convention Center. Third, the NYCC has a lot more to do with comic books than the SDCC. Actually, the SDCC barely has anything to do with comic books, despite its title and its not-for-profit mission statement. And finally, NYCC has more European artists and writers while SDCC has more Asian. Of course, this is neither better nor worse, but it is an interesting difference.

For me, there’s another important difference: I don’t have to fly from sea to shining sea to get there.

I’ll gleefully admit six years ago NYCC really, truly and totally sucked. I said so right here in this space. It was the worst planned, worst programmed, worst run major show I’d ever been to, and I started going to New York conventions back in 1968 (I cosplayed Swee’pea). It improved, slowly, and achieved adequacy in its third or fourth year.

This time around the show was very well run – although I agree with Emily’s comments about their panel programming decisions being less than knowledgeable. They should endeavor to overcome this problem.

My biggest complaint – they’re called “issues” now, aren’t they? – was rectified mid-way through the show. They had the exits blocked off, forcing the mass of humanity through narrow corridors back to the small entrance way, making it dangerously difficult to leave, particularly for those who were mobility-challenged. This policy was enforced by a part-time minimum wage crew and, while I sympathize with their difficult job, there was no reason for them to lie to us – they weren’t upholding fire laws; quite the contrary – and there was no reason to act like Cartman without his truncheon. On Thursday and Friday some acted as though it was their job to put the oink in “rent-a-pig,” but on Saturday the rules were changed and you could actually exit through some of the doors marked “exit.”

The New York Comic Con was totally and completely sold out well before the show started. While there was some confusion about the changes in registration procedures (particularly for pros, but we’re an easily confused lot), most of us who followed the rules received our badges in the mail several weeks before the show and therefore were saved from the agony of lines long enough to cause a riot at LaGuardia Airport. I don’t know how you legitimately limit the audience size and 100,000 people can barely fix into the venue; there’s some construction going on at the Javits right now so I hope they procure more floor space next year.

Personally, I had a great time. Sure, most of it was work (ComicMix had nine people there, a third focused on cosplay coverage for our Facebook and Twitter feeds) and because of the nature of my work I spent most of my time in and about Artists’ Alley, the only room that routinely had sufficient oxygen. But I saw a lot of friends – a lot – and, when all is said and done, we could take whatever energy we had left and wade into the bowels of Manhattan, which is always an entertaining and unusual experience.

A rough estimate reveals the New York Comic Con contributed over a quarter billion dollars to the local economy. We’re not just legitimate. We’re big business.

 (Our columnist would like to thank Ed Sullivan for the loan of the head.)

THURSDAY: Dennis O’Neil

 

PRO SE ANNOUNCES NEW DIGEST SERIES FEATURING CHARACTERS OF CLASSIC PULP AUTHOR!

Pro Se, a growing Publisher specializing in Heroic Fiction, New Pulp, and tales covering multiple genres, announced an open call today for a new series of books from Pro Se that mark the collaboration between the New Pulp Publisher and a classic Pulp Author!

Charles Boeckman, a 91 year old author/world traveler/jazz musician recently self published SUSPENSE, SUSPICION, & SHOCKERS.  This collection of 24 stories was written by Boeckman, many of them under the name Charles Beckman,  Jr. and were printed in Pulps such as Dime Detective, Detective Tales, Dime Mystery, and others as well as in digest mystery magazines such as Manhunt and Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine.  With a career ranging from the 40s into the modern era in fiction, much of it crime and mystery related, Boeckman is truly one of the last remaining true Pulp Authors today and has crafted characters that, although they only appeared once originally, have potential for further adventures, a potential Pro Se Productions plans to tap.

“This book,” Tommy Hancock, Editor in Chief and Partner in Pro Se, states, “is truly a fantastic read.  Mr. Boeckman’s words sing with the huskiness and weight of a torch singer and the stories deliver blows like gunshots from all sides.   He breathes life into every character, every locale, and every situation these hard luck heroes find themselves in.  And one of the great things about his stories is, although there are definitely heroes between the beginning and end, they’re not cast in bronze or refined from gold.   These are bruised, battered, often broken souls who have talents for music, in a lot of cases, or mystery and are almost as talented in getting themselves in trouble that most people would have to die to get out of.”

“After reading his book,” Hancock continues, “I contacted Mr. Boeckman and, following drowning him in compliments and fanboy like sentiments, I identified several characters that I felt like could have life in new stories and would appeal to a modern audience, both for nostalgic reasons as well as the fact that these characters, even the ones written back in the 1940s, were definitely written with a sensibility that makes them viable to modern readers.  I requested the permission to put together anthologies and books based around these characters in a series of digests that sport Mr. Boeckman’s name and he agreed to that.”

Pro Se will begin publishing the CHARLES BOECKMAN PRESENTS line of digest sized anthologies and novellas featuring characters originally created and featured in stories written by Boeckman.  Although each individual digest may focus on a different theme or character, they will all appear under the CBP banner, and will feature new stories based on Boeckman’s work.

Charles Boeckman

“This is an open call,” Hancock states, “to any and all writers who might be interested in trying their hand at Mr. Boeckman’s characters.  The first step in this process will be for interested writers to look over the brief descriptions of the characters provided and email proseproductions@earthlink.net with any and all they may be interested in.  Based on that interest, story bibles and other information will be sent to interested authors who will then be required to draft a proposal for a story, length being minimum 8,000 words to a full novella length of 30,000.  The proposal must be no more than a page long and, if the writer has never submitted to Pro Se before, a writing sample of at least 3 pages of narrative must be supplied as well. One thing to note, also.  Although these characters were originally created by Mr. Boeckman and  Pro Se will be insuring that they remain true to the source material, we are not wanting any writer to ape or copy Mr. Boeckman’s style.  We will be great stewards of these classic ideas as well as the skills and styles of the modern writers pouring life into them.”

Charles Boeckman

Detective Mercer Basous from ‘The G-String Corpse’- A homely 1970s New Orleans Detective who knows three things very well- New Orleans, the people that make it up, and how to do his job.

Big Lip from ‘The Last Trumpet’-A piano player on1950s Broadway who solved the murder of his great friend and one of the greatest horn players the world has ever known who moves onto further tales and adventures in a band in a world without The Earl.

Buddy Gardner and Frank Judson from ‘Blind Date’- Frank, a mid 1960s small town reporter, and Buddy, a deputy in the small town with detective skills to spare, find new stories and cases to follow and crack in Kingsbury after their initial tale, where Frank finds a dead woman in his trunk that all evidence said he had an affair with, then murdered, but he’d never met her before.

Lt. Mike O’Shean and Lil Brown of the Daily Herald from “I’ll Make The Arrest”-Mike O’Shean, a passionate two fisted cop  of the early 1950s who sinks his teeth into a case and won’t let go, even if it kills him, and Lil Brown, the reporter who knows her job and city better than anyone…and knows O’Shean better than that.   These two are at the beginning of what may be a beautiful relationship if crime and corruption don’t get in the way!

Doc and Sally from ‘A Hot Lick for Doc’-Fresh in 1950s LA from their debut tale, Doc, a washed up clarinet player who found his music again following being involved and solving a murder, and Sally, the recovering heroin addict who accompanied him, would be ready to write new tunes and chop a new life out of whatever life and LA throws at them.

Johnny Nickle from ‘Run, Cat, Run’-A trumpet player who’s claim to fame was having played on a supposedly haunted Jazz Classic that led to him being on the run from a curse and a murderer for years, Johnny Nickle is now back on top in the early 1950s blowing his horn and finding trouble almost everywhere he finds a stage to stand on.

The stories will be set in the periods mentioned for each of the characters.  If a writer wishes to go beyond that period, then that must be clearly mentioned in the proposal.

Deadline for initial proposal submissions is November 1st, 2012.  

Other characters from Mr. Boeckman’s many stories may be added to the available list to write from at a later date, Hancock points out, but these are currently the only characters discussed thus far.

“This,” Hancock says, “is not only a great opportunity for Pro Se, but it is truly an honor to have not only made the acquaintance of such a great writer and part of Pulp history as Mr. Boeckman, but to have the privilege of giving new life to these classic friends of his, there’s no real words for that except We intend to make him proud.”  

For more information on Pro Se Productions, go to www.prosepulp.com.  To get a copy of SUSPENSE, SUSPICIONS, AND SHOCKERS go to http://www.amazon.com/Suspense-Suspicion-Shockers-Charles-Boeckman/dp/1479238732/ref=sr_1_6?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1350269187&sr=1-6.

PULP ARK 2013 DATES AND LOCATION ANNOUNCED!

PULP ARK 2013 DATES AND LOCATION ANNOUNCED!

PRESS RELEASE- FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE AND DISTRIBUTION

PULP ARK 2013 DATES AND LOCATION ANNOUNCED!  
APRIL 26-28TH, 2013
10/14/12
Pro Se Productions, a leading publisher of Heroic and Action/Adventure Fiction as well as the Founder and organizer of Pulp Ark, a writer’s conference/convention that began in Batesville, AR in 2011 announces today the dates for the third annual event, PULP ARK 2013 as well as a change of venue.
Pulp Ark is a Writer’s Conference/Convention focused on ‘Pulp’ fiction.  Although defined narrowly by many, Pulp Ark promotes Pulp Fiction as multi genre multi medium storytelling that typically involves action, adventure, larger than life heroes and villains, and a strong focus on both plot and characterization.  “Pulp,” Hancock said, “began as a medium in which many great writers told a lot of wonderful stories and readers could pick ’em up a 100 or more pages at a time for a dime.  Although it’s no longer that necessarily, the sensibilities of Pulp storytelling, the style, the methodology, all the stuff fans have remembered and enjoyed for over 80 years about those kinds of tales, all of that is still around and available from all sorts of authors, artists, performers and companies.  That is what Pulp Ark is all about.”
“Pulp Ark 2013,” stated Tommy Hancock, Pulp Ark Organizer, “will take place in a new facility and a new town, but remains in Arkansas!  Batesville, Arkansas (the site of the first two Pulp Ark conventions) has been nothing but a positive experience for Pulp Ark and the success we’ve had there, particularly in 2012, is one of the myriad reasons we decided to make a move.  Pulp Ark 2012 cemented for us the fact that not only would we have faithful vendors and guests willing to return for another go around or two, but that we also had a concept that appealed to fans of all ages and genres and mediums.  With that, the decision was either to grow or not.   Part of the decision to grow was whether or not to stay in Batesville.  Several factors, most notably partnering with an excellent facility that truly will take Pulp Ark to another level, led us to decide that the home of Pulp Ark 2013 would be Springdale, Arkansas.”
Springdale is in Washington County located in Northwest Arkansas.  Considered part of the Fayetteville Metropolitan Area, Springdale is one town of several that are considered a piece of one of the fastest growing metropolitan areas in the country.  With over 500,000 residents in and near Springdale, Pro Se believes that not only will this increase fan attendance and interest in the Writer’s Conference/Convention that blends every genre and medium possible together, but will also attract both the loyal guests and vendors from the first two years of Pulp Ark as well as a whole host of new participants on that side of the table.
“Pulp Ark is a wonderfully unique creature in a lot of ways,” Hancock stated.  “We definitely enjoy having that small town, almost family type feel for what we do, but we also have a truly kaleidoscopic reach with all the genres and creators that fall into our umbrella.  Prose, comics, audio, cosplay, even music, all of that and more contributes to what Pulp is.  Classic, new, and even Pulp yet to come all has a home at our convention and it was time to move Pulp Ark to a place where it…and all its wonderful supporters…could truly spread their wings.”
Pulp Ark 2013 will be held in Springdale, Arkansas April 26-28, 2013 at the Holiday Inn Springdale Hotel and Convention Center in Springdale, Arkansas, 1500 South 48th Street, phone number- 1-479-751-8300.  For a peek at the venue, click HERE!
SPECIAL PRICES UNTIL JANUARY 1ST, 2013!  Any and all who plan to attend Pulp Ark 2013 and want to get the Discounted Room Rate MUST reserve a room or rooms by January 1st, 2013 to take advantage of the Special Pulp Ark rate of $84.00 a night.  To reserver your room online, please click HERE!  

PULP ARK 2013-Springdale, Arkansas!  For further information, go to www.prosepulp.com or contact Hancock at 870-834-4022 and/or proseproductions@earthlink.net.  Expect more Pulp Ark Announcements VERY SOON!

Martha Thomases: My NYCC Shoes

New York Comic-Con starts today. Almost as big an event as San Diego, but closer to my refrigerator, it is a monolith in the comic-book calendar. NYCC attracts fewer movie and television folk but more people who work in publishing – a (mostly) Manhattan-based business – since NYCC is at the Javits Center, which is technically in Manhattan but more difficult to get to than many parts of New Jersey.

Also, the food choices are terrible, expensive, and such small portions! It’s like being a modern high-school student, but without the calculus. Like high school, I am still filled with anxiety about getting to hang out with the cool kids. I can see from the schedule that I’m already missing out on the cool parties, sold out before I even heard about them.

I am not a person who attended comic book conventions since they started. The first ones I went to were the Phil Seuling shows, and I only went to the parties because I was a struggling freelance writer and there was free food. A hat-tip here to Denny O’Neil for sneaking me in.

When I worked at DC Comics in the 1990s, I went because they paid me to go. Even the big shows then were mostly about comics, not so much movies and television, so being with one of the Big Two made me feel like a vital part of the industry. When I see my friends who are still at DC at recent shows, I don’t get the same feeling from them.

Still, for four days there is a large comic book show in New York. The hotels, especially on the West Side, will have paying guests who are here for the show, who will meet each other in the lobbies otherwise full of foreign tourists. Bars and restaurants host private parties for publishers, studios, and industry-related non-profits. In other words, we’ll be spending a lot of money, which is the easiest way to get respect in this town.

(The other way is to actually accomplish something, and that is much more difficult. Or be British.)

Anyway, this is a long way to say that I’m kind of frazzled, and I’m not sure what there is I can say about comics this week. There are probably some trends that reflect on How We Live Now, but I’m distracted wondering what shoes will best protect my feet from the hard, cruel Javits Center floor.

It is at times like this, when I’m wary and distracted, that comics are most likely to come through for me. This time, I need to thank Grant Morrison. If you haven’t read this yet, check it out.

You can even enjoy it barefoot.

SATURDAY: Marc Alan Fishman