Dishful Thinking.

Hullo.

Welcome to the latest update on "Saturday" the book. It's kind of like the hot sheets for this book I'm working on. That is, if the hot sheets only came out once every two weeks and contained almost no useful information.

Anyhoo, how are ya? I'm still chipping away at the edits. I've actually hit kind of an uninteresting part of the editing process. The work is just a little tedious at the moment. But, to be fair, I'm still working on a comic book, so the lowered interest level is relative. Saying I'm at an uninteresting part of drawing my dream project is like saying I've hit a boring part of eating birthday cake with a unicorn. In the back of a dune buggy. Flying through space. It's still fun on a bun.

As for the search for an agent and publisher, well...there's been a bit of a development, but don't get your hopes up just yet. I received some feedback from an agent who was kind enough to take time to read the book. He liked the artwork and the story, but said he thought most publishers probably wouldn't be interested for a couple of reasons. Foremost among them was that "Saturday" doesn't exactly fit neatly into any category.

It's somewhere between a children's book and a graphic novel. It's also somewhere between age groups. When you write a book, publishers want it to be for a specific age group. Publishing is the business of selling books. When books don't fit nicely into a category, it makes it hard to market them. Which makes it hard to sell them. I understand this. And if this ends up being the reason "Saturday" is never picked up by a publisher, no big deal.

Ok, maybe it would be kind of a big deal. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't entertained fantasies of "Saturday" being a big commercial success and me rolling in caviar. Except that would smell terrible and feel creepy, so I'd probably choose to roll in something else comparably expensive, like stamps or Gruyere cheese or something (money is out of the question; it's filthy). The point is that, although I'd be disappointed, I wouldn't have any hard feelings. Publishing is a business, not an art gallery (which are also actually businesses).

But I had a reason for the way I wrote and drew "Saturday". I always knew some of the humor and some of the references and some parts of the story would be a little advanced for kids. There's a reference to "Yentl", for Pete's sake. But that's what I wanted. When I was a kid, my favorite books and movies always had elements I didn't understand (and wouldn't until I got older). But I actually liked that. I love it when you can revisit a book or a movie as you get older and constantly find new things and have your understanding of it change over time. I also think that it's condescending to give young readers material that's easy to understand. It's a disservice to assume they won't get it and to censor in advance.

Long story long: at this point, it looks like I'll be going this alone.

I've compared drawing "Saturday" to making a big meal in the past. It does feel a lot like that. It was fun. And now I want to share it. But making a big meal means using a lot of dishes. Looks like I'll be spending some quality time in front of the sink as a result. I'm not sure if that's a clear metaphor. In this case, the "dishes" are printing, distribution, marketing, shipping, and all the other stuff a publishing company would have done.

No big deal. I'm used to hard work. I kind of like it.

Hey, speaking of dishes, here's one of the panels I recently re-drew (from page 10):

Original:

New:

If you made it through all that, it probably felt like doing a stack of dishes. As always, thanks.


Cheers.

Short Post: Taking the "Pal" Out of Principal.

Please come in.

Do you know why you're here? Well, we're here to discuss your behavior recently. Oh, never mind. That's my next appointment.  You're here about the "Saturday" update. Well, good news! Here it is. And, even better news: I won't be flapping my keyboard gums nearly as much this week. I happen to be sick and tired (literally), so I just don't have the energy to talk your ears off. Because I'm sick, you might want to rub your eyes with some of that antibacterial goop after you read this.

(That was a joke. DO NOT RUB YOUR EYES WITH ANTIBACTERIAL GOOP.)

Update: Still editing, but making great progress and having fun. There's no real hurry. I'm still eager to get the book to you, but the agent/publisher search isn't exactly a fast process. If it turns out I have to print and distribute it myself, I'll need to save money. I've already started this process, but that's going to be glacial as well. But we'll get there, damn it. We'll get there if it kills you. I meant me. If it kills me. Yes, that's what I meant.

In the meantime, here's a recent edit from page 9. It's of India's principal, Principal Flummox. He's an uptight man. Here's the original:

And here's the new version:

I didn't think the original looked uptight enough. In "The Simpsons", Superintendent Chalmers says of Principal Skinner: "The rod up his butt must have a rod up its butt!" I wanted him to be THAT uptight. Hence the edits.

Ok, Noah needs to go sleep for a little while.

Thank you for reading and for being cool.

Cheers.

Introductions all around.

Hello!

Welcome to the latest edition of the "Saturday" update, wherein you'll get all the news that's fit to print about the graphic novel/illustrated book of the same name. It's usually a brisk stroll through a forest of metaphors and colloquialisms. It's also pretty much straight from the horse's mouth.

If you're just joining us, having stumbled onto this page accidentally whilst combing the internet for articles about the band "The Saturdays", covers of "The Saturday Evening Post", or clips of Saturday morning cartoons (and you haven't immediately left after furiously screaming, "This ain't the $#@&% 'Thundercats'!"), let me lay it on you:

"Saturday" is a book about a creative, sarcastic little girl named India McGreevy. When India's creativity is poked, prodded and taunted into submission by a dismal week, it takes her parents, a tattooed mechanic with a prosthetic leg, and the world's largest crocodile to put things back into perspective.

Actually, you know what? I drew an introduction that probably says it just as well:

This will go right at the beginning of the book. Originally, I just jumped right in to the story, but I thought this page would be a good primer on India. Also it's fun to look at, which is a big part of the show here. My favorite part is probably the panel with India and the evil robot, which has been manufactured by Powell and Sons Quality Evil Robots Company.

So, moving right along to the Progress Report:

I've just started what is probably the last page that will need major edits. Many pages after this one (page 10 for those of you keeping track at home) will need small edits here and there, but nothing as substantial as this one. So the subtext here is that the pace of edits should move at a good clip after this page is wrapped up.

As for the agent and publisher search: Well, it continues. I've sent out a lot of query letters at this point and the response (when there's been one at all), has been brief and "no". I think part of the problem is that "Saturday" doesn't fit neatly into any category. It's kind of a combination of a kids' book and a graphic novel. It's also more complex than most children's books. There's humor and references in it that some (maybe most) kids wouldn't understand right away. I always thought of that as a positive. My favorite kind of art (books, movies, music) is the kind that I can revisit as I age and take new meaning away every time. I'm not sure if "Saturday" succeeds in this respect, but it was an aspirational goal.

All of that was on purpose. And I figured these elements would make the book more attractive. But publishing is a business, not an art gallery. And, again based on my limited understanding of the publishing world, publishers like books that fit nicely into categories. That way they know whom to market to and how to market to them.

Long story long, I may end up printing this myself after all. And the cost will be...um, an amount that makes an illustrator like myself reach for his bottle of Tums (well, his bottle of "Off Brand Val-U Antacids", anyway). I'm considering running another Kickstarter campaign for the printing costs, but I don't know yet. Honestly, I would feel bad about asking for money again. I already did it once and I was astonished and humbled that you supported the book. The original campaign allowed me to work on the book nearly full time for several years. God only knows how long it would have taken otherwise. But saving the money for printing on my own may take a while, and I'm impatient to get the book to you. I haven't made any decisions yet.

Suffice it to say, I'mma get you this book.

And once again, thank you for being awesome.

Cheers.

P.S.: I redesigned the "Saturday" website: http://www.saturdaythebook.com/. Take a look around if you're up for it.

Olive Juice.

Dearest Ones,

Welcome to this week's special, special, extra creamy, dark-chocolate-infused, ribbon-wrapped, 11-carat Valentine's Day update of Saturday the book.



I feel I should begin this week as every good relationship talk should begin: With an apology. They say love means never having to say you're sorry, but unless schmaltzy 70s movie dialogue has always provided you with flawless life coaching, I wouldn't recommend following that kind of advice.  The last update struck a bit of a somber note. I wrote it when I was feeling particularly frustrated with the publishing process. While it's true that the process does sometimes feel a bit like pulling teeth through my nose with a lobster fork, that's no excuse for me airing my grievances with you. I'm sorry.

From now on, whenever I come home to you from a long, frustrating day of sending out unanswered query letters to agents and publishers, I'll bear the burden with good old American quiet desperation. I'll come in the door, loosen my tie, take a hard slug of strawberry schnapps, and kiss you on the forehead.

"What's wrong?" You'll ask, concern filling your eyes.
And I'll say through clenched teeth, "Nothing, dear. Nothing whatever."

And what's more romantic than that on Valentine's Day? Nothin', says I.



 You know, I've always wondered what Valentine's Day was actually about. Like many holidays, celebrations and ritual sacrificing ceremonies, I had a vague understanding of its origins and import and celebrated as custom required: With cards, booze, and regret. But I decided it was high time I knew the truth about this most doe-eyed of annual events, so I did what you should always do with useless questions, ex-partners, and mysterious medical ailments: I looked it up on the intertubes. This is from Wikipedia:

"St. Valentine's Day began as a liturgical celebration of one or more early Christian saints named Valentinus. Several martyrdom stories were invented for the various Valentines that belonged to February 14, and added to later martyrologies."

If that don't pluck the ol' heart strings, ain't nothin' gonna.

Ok, ok, maybe that's where V-day started, but what's it really ABOUT? I say it's about gestures. Like making breakfast:

You can keep all your flowery prose from 70s romance movies, thank you very much. Words can fail. Breakfast never does. Nothing makes the heart go pitter patter like bacon and eggs. Of course, too many breakfasts like that and your heart might well begin to pitter patter irregularly. So I suppose neither gesture is foolproof.

At any rate, here's hoping you're spending this Valentine's Day however the %$#@ you want, whether it's with someone, eating breakfast meats, or writing flowery prose to agents and publishers. I'll leave you with what is perhaps the most romantic song of all time, which I dedicate to Chronicle Books:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HH3ruuml-R4

Cheers.

Don't Call Me Shirley.

Howdy, Saturday passengers.

Welcome on board the update flight, which is a quick, nonstop trip from sanity and brevity to a state where neither of those things exists. Feel free to imagine my voice with a southern twang coming over the PA system. I'm wearing aviator glasses, a tie with a short-sleeved shirt, and drinking bad coffee from a Styrofoam cup. Looks like we're ready to go.


The announcements up front are always the same, so feel free to ignore this part and instead use the time to leaf through the bizarre and useless items catalog, figure out what that sticky substance is on the armrest, or guess what the person in front of you could possibly be eating that makes such a putrid smell. Sbarro? Chipotle? Or is it some kind of food they brought from home in a tupperware container? Whatever it is, it smells like the burps of an obese camel that's been eating boiled cabbage.

I'm still editing. Making good progress, too. There are probably only a half dozen or so pages left that need attention. Which is pretty good, considering there are 35 or so in the whole book.


As far as the search for an agent and publisher...well, that's not exactly going well. Let's just say there has been some turbulence. Of course, you won't feel a bit of that turbulence, rest assured. But you will have to hear me complain about it. To date, I've sent out 20 query letters and received a grand total of three responses. They were rejections, to boot.

It's not as easy to stay optimistic when you've been sitting at the gate asking for permission to take off for four months. And mostly the only response I receive is silence. Honestly, the part that's the most frustrating to me is that I just want you to have this book. I felt pretty lucky that I didn't have to ask anyone's permission to create Saturday. It was a ton of fun to draw. But I didn't just do it for myself. I want to be able to share it with people. The problem for now is that I sort of have to ask permission in order to share it.

C'est la vie. I'll keep at it. I'm no closer to giving up now than I was when I started the hunt for an agent and publisher.

Here are some apropos update panels:

And here's the soundtrack for today's post:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1VQ_3sBZEm0

Cheers.

Speakeasies, Bootlegging and Stock Cars, baby.

Well, how-do, Strangers?

Welcome back to the best place on the interwebs to get the lowdown on Saturday the book. Think of it like a Speakeasy for book updates. Just say the password ("snootfull") to the ugly guy through the slot in the door and, after the briefest of patdowns to make sure you're not a copper, packing, or bringing in any outside food or drink, you'll be let right in. Just like TSA or Thanksgiving with Howard Hughes. 

This book is taking an extra long time to distill, I know. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that, once you've finally had a taste, you'll consider the wait worthwhile (and not immediately go blind from drinking a poisonous bootleg gin of a graphic novel). I think you'll find it a complex and full-bodied illustrated book, with subtle undertones of sarcasm, notes of cultural references, hints of humor, and very nutty. Also maybe oaky, 'cause it sounds classy to say "oaky".

If it's any consolation, I'm pretty much just waiting with you. Yeah, I'm doing stuff. I'm  not just sitting on my hands. Fer one, I'm still editing:

This:

To This:

(Ta-daa.)

Probably only about four or five pages left whats needs editing. On top of the editing, I'm also searching for agents and publishers. To date, I've contacted 20 different individuals (and still had only two responses).  Again, it's a slow, frustrating process. I'm not worried, though. Even if I never find anyone who's interested in publishing it, I'm not worried.

See, I've tried for decades to put all the ingredients of my fevered imagination into something I would be proud of and proud to share with other people. There were a lot of failed attempts. Some of them even exploded in my face. But Saturday is the one. It was the most fun I've ever had drawing. And I'm definitely excited to share it with you.

I'm not sure if this is the case, but here's the impression I get: The publishing world is busy, crazy, and constantly shifting around. But it's also a bit insular. And it mostly distributes only the brands of liquor it has developed through it's own processes. I'm some guy who's been laboring at the copper stills of my imagination in the backwoods for years and I'm asking them to sell something I know is good. But I'm just not sure they'll go for it. It might just be too unfamiliar. Too unconventional.

Again, maybe that's the case and maybe it ain't. But if it is, I have no problem carefully pouring the big batch into portions for individual consumption, putting those into my souped up bootlegging vehicle, and driving them over the state line to get them to you. Of course, that route is WAY tougher. It means I'll have to pony up the dough for printing (substantial), distribution, and promotion. But I'm still not afraid of that. But for now, I'm going to give the traditional route a little more time.

In the meantime, here's a song by Jim Croce called "Rapid Roy":

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1aUl9l1O7sE

("They say that he learned to race the stock car by runnin' shine outta Alabam,
   oh, the demolition derby and the figure eight is easy money in the bank
   compared to running from the man in Oklahoma City with a 500 gallon tank")

Cheers.

All American Rejections

Hello there!

Welcome to the post-holiday update of "Saturday" the book. If you're anything like me, you're currently sitting in the glazed over, half-lidded malaise induced by a powerful combination of holiday foods, beverages and cold medicines and desperately trying to remember how to do your job before Monday rolls around.

There's bound to be an arm's length list of obligations that was growing like mold in an unwashed lunchbox while we all tried to enjoy each others' company on a brief respite from employment. So why not add one more? Here's something to read. You're welcome.

Fortunately, there isn't a whole lot to share in order to bring you up to speed. Unfortunately, that doesn't necessarily mean I'm going to employ brevity to do so.  As far as the drawing of "Saturday" goes, I'm still working on edits.

Oh, look: Here are some now:

The editing process is picking up speed. After some initial heaving and straining, it's moving at a decent clip. Any day now it will get ahead of me, roll out of control down a steep embankment, and tear through some unsuspecting hamlet of unedited panels.

The search for an agent and publisher is going at a decidedly slower pace, however. Good news, though! I've received two, count 'em, TWO responses from agencies! They were both rejections, but they felt like victories to me. It means that my query letters are actually being received and (theoretically) read by someone instead of going out into the ether and dying like the sad pleas of a lonely kid talking into a tin-can and string phone with no one at the other end.

If it seems like a disheartening process, it is. If you think I'm even the slightest bit discouraged by it, I ain't. I often tell people it takes a healthy amount of stubborn and stupid to be a freelance illustrator. Well, the stubborn/stupid multi-tool I use for freelance illustration can also be employed in the search for an agent and publisher. It's like a Swiss Army knife. Along with the stubborn knife and the stupid screw driver, it also has a set of unrealistic hopes tweezers, an overly-optimistic toothpick that I lost years ago, and a bottle opener. I plan to use every single tool during this search. Particularly the bottle opener.

So fear not.

Cheers.