Thursday, 20 July 2017

REPLICATOR comic book review

0 comments
COMIC REVIEW
Replicator #1 



Self-published via Kickstarter 2016
Writer: Robert Arnold
Artist: Armin Ozdic
Colourist: Ross A Campbell
Letterer: Jaimie Me
Editors: Nick Glenister, Alison Arnold



























I’ve always loved me a near future dystopian/plague/climate calamity yarn, so when I read the opening pages of REPLICATOR, I knew I was in for a treat.
The comic tells the story of a deliberately released virus called the Red Death in modern day Britain that forces the country to be isolated generating food shortages and martial law. Eventually forcing the healthy (and rich and useful) to shelter in a walled city called Sanctuary guarded by the latest and the deadliest of men and technology.
Lovely colour work by Ross A Campbell

Life goes on outside of Sanctuary but the ones left behind are reminded that those inside are far more precious and any indiscretion committed against those from Sanctuary if they leave the city (illegally) are swiftly executed.
This is where we meet our protagonist Ryker. Whose sense of justice seems to fall short of what is required by the security forces. Blank faced, armour wearing humans without much compassion.

Actually, we first meet a totally different and more aggressive Ryker just prior to this. In a two page shoot-em-up involving powerful hand guns, grenades and what looks like a super villain, that happens 18 months in the future. Obviously, Ryker has had some life changing episodes since then that we are going to eventually find out.
There are a few scenes in this first issue that hint at conspiracy and super powers.
These are entertaining and well-paced, it all finishes all too quickly on a cliff hanger ending and the reader is left not sure where everything is going.

Thus the problem at hand.

This comic being a successful Kickstarter project only committed to this issue are we going to see what happens next within my lifetime? I hope so because this has the makings of a great series.

Rob Arnold has created a great story and draws the reader in. Artist Armin Ozdic style reminds me of both Javier Berreno and Fernando Melek from Simon Spurrier’s Crossed tale Wish You Were Here. Clean and neat and when asked to draw a splash, really delivers.

I enjoyed REPLICATOR and look forward to more, I just wish it wasn’t something far off on the horizon than something I could pick up next month at the LCS.

A haunting Splash Page by Armin Ozdic

For more info:

Thursday, 6 July 2017

FLASH FICTION PART 2

0 comments

Flash Fiction has a few disciplines, the three I know of are 100 words - popular with The Spanishish Museum of Words which has a $US 20,000 prize every couple of years. the there is the more traditional 1000 word staple popular in anthologies, but my favourite is 150 words or less that I learned with many other talented folks on the Redbubble art site before it stopped being a community and became a place to buy pirated artwork. It was something I enjoyed and found that these short little stories with a start middle and end were great for transitioning into comic scripts, which is what I tend to do more of these days. These stories below (and in the next couple of posts) are from those redbubble years and can be found in compilations HERE from blurb via Anne van Alkermade's murphywrite imprint. So here we go. Short sharp stories or as Mister Khan called them once: Short stories with a punchline.
PART ONE IS HERE


WHEN YOU WISH UPON A STAR

I wished in a dream and dreamed in all hope and I hoped and I prayed that things wouldn’t stay the same and that one day we would meet travellers from other worlds and beyond. Now that is all subject to conjecture as a lie strapped down on an examination table in a very large spaceship somewhere near Jupiter whilst a two and a half metre , four limbed, grey skinned Alien is ready to slam a very large cylindrical probe up my butt.

 FAITH BOUND

It removed all the uneaten meals from the table and scraped the plate’s contents into containers to be used again. The food had long perished; it had been replaced with coloured blocks. The dishes were placed in the Hydro Wash. The robot performed this dutifully three times a day for the mummified crew of the Missionary vessel FAITHBOUND.
It also dressed them every morning and prepared them for the sleeping quarters every night according to the 24-hour shipboard clock. The bodies were well cared for and well preserved, the life support had been shut done eons ago. Forever waiting and serving whilst searching for Heaven amongst the wide reaches of space. Its role in reuniting its crew's bodies with their souls that had left so long ago. Then it could find what the crew used to always talk of but it thought spelt wrong. So it corrected it. Piece of mind.

THE BULLY, THE NERD and THE NERD’S MUM.
The nerdy boy thrust his groin at the bully. “What in hell are you doing nerd? I’m still gonna pound you”, the bully threatened. “My mum wrote me a note telling me how bullies like you can be defeated eventually, by kids smarter than them. Kids just like me ” The nerd replied almost triumphantly. “Show it to me idiot” The bully held out his hand, the nerd continued to thrust rather suggestively at him why rummaging in his pockets. His actions were starting to make the bully feel uneasy. The nerd handed the note to the bully, which he quickly read. The Bully walked up to the nerd and bopped him on the head and walked away laughing. “You idiot it should say, “The pen is mightier than the sword” not “The penis” – Tell your mum to learn how to type”

Wednesday, 7 June 2017

FLASH FICTION

0 comments
Flash Fiction has a few disciplines, the three I know of are 100 words - popular with  The Spanishish Museum of Words which has a $US 20,000 prize every couple of years. the there is the more traditional 1000 word staple popular in anthologies, but my favourite is 150 words or less that I learned with many other talented folks on the Redbubble art site before it stopped being a community and became a place to buy pirated artwork. It was something I enjoyed and found that these short little stories with a start middle and end were great for transitioning into comic scripts, which is what I tend to do more of these days.
These stories below (and in the next couple of posts) are from those redbubble years and can be found in compilations HERE from blurb via Anne van Alkermade's murphywrite imprint.
So here we go. Short sharp stories or as Mister Khan called them once: Short stories with a punchline.

HUG YOUR CHILDREN

Conversations were like glass,  see through and easily broken by passing distractions.
She wrote “Goodbye, lay the blame on me”
And left the note for all to see, pinned on a barrier to keep reluctant jumpers away.
But not those with full intent.
When they lifted her broken body out, the cradle rocked her in its arms to show in a simple demonstration to those who cried on the ledge of how easy it could be.
If they ever took the time to listen.


REMEBERANCE DAY

He’d been at the door for hours now. Just standing in the doorway with his “Army” hat he’d made so that it looked just like his dad’s. His mother was still lying on the bed sobbing uncontrollably clutching the official letter that arrived that afternoon. In a scene of subtle synchronicity, the boy saluted the sun as it set in the mid-winter sky just as his mother dropped the letter onto the floor. As of tonight the world as they knew it would take a whole new course, meanwhile, the cat went from room to room trying to get either’s attention so it could be fed.



AND THE WAY TO GO OUT.

 As he lay in the foxhole clutching it hard against his chest Corporal Todd felt a blinding chill pierce his very being when the cry went up.
“Banzai!”
He looked to his left at his comrade. It was like he was sleeping.
 He didn’t look to the right. He already made that mistake and only saw a body, no head. Both men he knew intimately through conversations he had but never considered either a good friend. It would be a lonely death. The charging Japanese were getting closer now, his last wish now as he lay shivering in fear was that the grenade he was holding would go off before he felt the oncoming bayonets.


ALL SOULS DAY

 Terry held his head in his hands as he sat on the steps leading up to the party. Tears fell from his face onto his shoeless feet and instantly disappeared. It had been two years now and nobody seemed to remember him anymore.
“I'll show them, they’ll miss me when I’m gone” he’d vainly cried. The accident had proved that. His funeral was massive and all the girls cried. Some even kept photos, for a while.
But now it was a different story. Beside his still grieving parents he never heard his name mentioned amongst his old crowd. He was stuck, he hadn’t been offered Heaven, he hadn’t been offered Hell. It was just him and his heavy head. Terry stood up and put his head under his arm and walked back through the yard to Cemetery He was wrong - popularity was fleeting. Death was eternal and lonely