At some point I FB liked a certain Yoga studio in central NJ. One day, a build-your-own-drum event (no, there’s no typos in there) they posted came across my feed. I’d never specifically wanted a drum, but when I looked up Djembes (one of the types you could build), and thought about how much I could annoy my neighbor with one, I signed-up.
Four years ago, in a moment of insanity, I decided to write a novel. It would be about fairies – or rather, three kids who trip into fairies and the sometimes dark, sometimes fun craziness that follows. I could see all the players in my head, knew their names, and knew what they wanted. Eventually, I finished the book and was ready to move onto trying to get it published.
In doing my research, I found-out about writers conferences and signed-up for a big one in NYC. I worked-out all the travel logistics, selected sessions to attend, and even had a game plan for meeting other writers and talking to agents and editors. I had every base covered!
So how the hell did I forget business cards??? Ugh.
Within five minutes of being at the conference, I saw people exchanging writer business cards, and quietly cursed myself. I spent the next three days scribbling on rips of paper, or giving people my day-job card while explaining… yeah, you get it.
I wouldn’t make the same mistake for this year’s conference, and the design popped right into my head. Character drawings. I wanted drawings of several of my characters for the backsides (MOO lets you load dozens of different back images). There was, of course, one problem with my plan: the drawings.
I live kind of out-of-the-way in NJ, and don’t know a ton of people in the area. I reached-out to several promising illustrators through SCBWI, but it never worked-out. I could have drawn them myself – I used to draw a lot more than I do now, and they are my characters after all – but I get tired of my own vision, honestly. I was ready to see how someone else would see these characters, and one Saturday morning this past April, the universe provided me that chance.
On weekends, I write in the mornings at the local coffee shop (no, I’m not ‘that guy’. It’s just about getting up and being productive.) On the afore-mentioned April Saturday, their wifi was being a jerk (so was I because I wanted to Twitter instead of write), so I asked the barista about it. She reset it, but it didn’t help. “That’s OK. I should be working, anyway,” I said.
The word ‘working’ is the important one, there. That’s the word that prompted her to eventually ask me what I work on when I come in. When I answered, she shared she also writes, and is an artist. Now, if you read the previous paragraphs instead of just scrolling down to look at the pictures, you’ll remember I needed an artist. A short-time later, I offered her the job.
Thank you, universe. You rock.
Flash forward several months, A LOT of tea and coffee, some great collaboration, and a tremendous new friendship, and I have my drawings.
AND. I. LOVE. THEM.
NO. SERIOUSLY. I. LOVE. THEM.
Whimsical, adorable, weird, with a hint of creepy where creepy should be. Perfect.
How much do I love them? It’s Sunday at noon, on Father’s Day. I’ve been up since 7AM’ish, sipping green tea and working in Photoshop to prep the images for use as business cards (black background, added gray shading, added character names). That’s after working on them for three hours last night after getting home from Art All Night, Trenton. I even watermarked the low res versions for this post – which I never do, but these’re mine mine mine! Now I’m going to call my dad, and then go out and buy picture frames for these bad-boys.
More Thank You’ing
I’ve already said it to her in person, but a HUGE thank you to the artist JRK – who wishes to remain anonymous on the interwebs, whose arm I nearly had to twist to get her to sign these, and who, when she reads this, will make a face and probably text me that she hates me – for stepping out of her comfort zone and taking these on. They’re not what I pictured, not how I would have drawn them, and EXACTLY how they should be.