text:
OF BATS AND BEETLES
Toon alert: My next episode of Batman: the Brave and the Bold—"Revenge of the Reach"—will air this weekend on Cartoon Network. You can see it either Friday night at 7:30 or Saturday night night at 8:30. The story features Batman teaming up with Blue Beetle, Guy Gardner and the entire Green Lantern Corps. against the intergalactic threat of the Reach. If you're an animation fan, I think you'll enjoy it.
And a very happy new year to one and all!
A few years ago—born out of my inordinate love for this heart-filling, soul-transforming, sacred and transcendent season—I wrote a short Christmas tale called The Truth About Santa Claus. It's never appeared anywhere before now and I offer it here as cyber Christmas present: my way of wishing all of you the happiest of holidays, the merriest of Christmases.
Here's to a magical, miraculous 2010: God knows, we could all use one.
"THERE IS NO SANTA CLAUS!"
He'd been thinking about it for days—ever since he heard Big Mouth Jenny Rizzo announce it on the school bus—and he didn't believe a word of it, not one word. (Well, maybe ONE.) But Cody had to be sure, absolutely, positively sure—
—and that's why he was hiding behind the couch at midnight on Christmas Eve.
His mother was there, asleep in his dad's old easy chair, the reds and blues of the Christmas tree lights making her look peaceful and happy and impossibly young.
The tree, by the way, had not ONE SINGLE PRESENT underneath it.
That didn't make sense. If there WAS no Santa Claus, if his mother was the one who bought the presents, wrapped the presents, stacked them under the tree, then how come she hadn't done it? How come she wasn't awake RIGHT NOW arranging them all?
He got scared. Maybe there wasn't going to BE a Christmas this year. Maybe Mom had lost her job and they didn't have any money and so she COULDN'T buy him any presents and—
And then Cody glanced over at the windows and noticed that it was snowing.
Or was it?
If that was snow, it was the WHITEST snow he'd ever seen. It was snow as bright as moonbeams, as bright as sunlight, as bright as...
Stardust.
Quickly, but quietly (he didn't want to wake his mother), he scurried to the window and looked out.
It was coming down and coming down and COMING DOWN all across town, whirling and whipping, spinning and gyrating, out of the night sky. Glowing so brightly that it almost hurt his eyes to look at it. And Cody saw that it certainly wasn't snow, and it absolutely wasn't rain, it wasn't ANYTHING he'd ever seen before. But each drop, no...each flake, no... each BALL of glowing WHATEVER IT WAS, seemed to pulse and spin, soar and vibrate, as if it were alive.
And the stuff, the magical WHATEVER IT WAS (and he knew now that it was magic. He just KNEW), wasn't collecting on the streets, wasn't piling up on the rooftops. It was MELTING INTO (that's the only way he could put it: MELTING INTO) every house (no matter how small) and apartment building (no matter how big).
EVERY house and apartment building.
He looked up.
And there it was: coming RIGHT THROUGH THE CEILING of Apartment 3F, HIS apartment, swirling, like a tornado of light, around the chandelier and then down, down, down—
—STRAIGHT FOR HIS MOTHER.
At first he almost yelled out a warning, "Mom! Wake up! MOM!" But something made him stop.
Instead of yelling he ducked back behind the couch and watched, eyes peering over the top.
Watched as the light-tornado wheeled around his mother, so fast, so bright, that he could hardly even SEE her. But he COULD see her. Most of her, anyway.
And what he SAW...
The light poured in through the top of her head, through her eyes, through her chest, through her toes. It lifted her up—still sleeping!—and carried her out of her chair and across the room. And as she floated—
—she started to change:
Her hair became white, her nose became red, her belly ballooned like the most pregnant woman in the history of the world. Her feet grew boots, her head grew a hat, her nightgown grew fur. An overstuffed sack sprouted, like a lumpy angel's wing, from her shoulder. And then—
AndthenandthenandTHEN, it wasn't his mother there at all, it was him, it was SANTA CLAUS! STANDING RIGHT THERE IN CODY'S LIVING ROOM! Santa Claus who, with a laugh (exactly like the laugh Cody always knew he had, only better) and a twinkle in his eyes (exactly like the twinkle he'd always imagined, ONLY BETTER) reached into his sack and pulled out package after package, present after present, and placed them, carefully, like some Great Artist contemplating his masterpiece, under the tree.
When he was done, Santa Claus stood there, grinning and shaking his head, as if he couldn't BELIEVE what a beautiful tree this was, how wonderful the presents looked beneath it. As if this moment was the greatest moment in the history of Christmas, as if this apartment was the only place in all the universes that such a Christmas could ever POSSIBLY happen.
And then the MOST amazing thing happened:
Santa Claus turned.
He turned slowly. So slowly Cody couldn't even tell at first that he was moving at all. And—slowly, SLOWLY—those twinkling eyes, that Smile of smiles, fixed itself on the two boy-eyes peering, in wonder, over the top of the couch.
And what Cody felt then he could never really say: only that it was better than any present anyone could ever get. Only that it made his heart so warm it melted like magical WHATEVER IT WAS, trickling down through his whole body. Only that it made him want to reach out his arms and hug Santa Claus, hug his mother, hug his father (and FORGIVE him too, for running out on them) and his aunts and uncles and cousins (even his Cousin Erskine who was SUCH a pain) and Big Mouth Jenny Rizzo (who really wasn't so bad most of the time) and all his friends and teachers and the kid in his karate class who always smelled SO BAD and, embarrassing as it sounds, it made him want to hug everyone and everything in the whole world including rabbits and snakes and trees and lizards and grass and lions and mountains and, yes, the EARTH HERSELF.
Cody wanted to hold that gaze, to keep his eyes locked on Santa's, forever. (Or longer, if he could.) Wanted to swim in that incredible feeling, drown in it, till GOD HIMSELF came down to say: "Enough!"
Except that he blinked. Just once. But in that wink of an eye, Santa was gone. Cody's mother was asleep in the chair again and, for one terrible moment, the boy thought that the whole thing must have been a dream.
Except, under the tree: THERE WERE THE PRESENTS.
Except, out the window: THERE WAS THE SNOW, the rain, the magical WHATEVER IT WAS, shooting up, like a blizzard in reverse, from every house, every apartment building. Shooting up into the heavens, gathering together like a fireball, like a white-hot comet—
—and fading away into the night: going, going...
Without so much as a tinkling sleigh-bell or a "Ho-ho-ho."
Not that it mattered.
Cody looked at his mom.
Cody kissed her.
"I love you," he said. And he was crying. Happy tears. Christmas tears. Like moonbeams, like sunlight. Like stardust.
Mom stirred in the chair, smiled the softest sweetest smile Cody had ever seen. "I love you, too," she said.
And then she drifted back to sleep.
Cody sat at her feet, warming himself, warming his SOUL, by the lights of the tree.
And soon, he, too, was drifting off to sleep. And as he drifted, a wonderful thought rose up, like a balloon, inside him. Rose, then POPPED—spreading the thought to every corner of his mind. Giving him great comfort. Great delight:
"One day," the thought whispered, "when you're all grown-up, when you have children of your own. ONE DAY," the thought went on...
"It will be YOUR TURN."
© copyright 2009 J.M. DeMatteis
28 REDUX
In case you missed The Life and Times of Savior 28 the first time around, the collected edition will be hitting stores today. It's a very nice package (if I say so myself), which includes all the amazing covers by 28 illustrator Mike Cavallaro, all the alternative covers (by Sal Buscema & Joe Sinnot, Mike Ploog, Shawn McManus, Don Perlin and Kevin Maguire. Quite a line-up, isn't it?), pin-ups by Dean Haspiel, Simon Fraser, Tim Hamilton and Michael Fiffe (another great line-up) and excerpts from my original script.
As we rapidly approach the end of the 00's and I look back on all the stories I've written these past ten years, I can honestly say that The Life and Times of Savior 28 was one of the most challenging—and creatively satisfying—pieces I've worked on, right up there alongside Abadazad. (I'd include Hero Squared, as well; but working on that with my old buddy Keith Giffen felt more like play than work.) You can find S-28 at your local comic shop or, if you prefer buying online, you can click right here. But keep in mind that Amazon won't have it till early in the new year.
On Thursday, President Obama gave a powerful and eloquent speech when he received the Nobel Peace Prize in Oslo. Much like the extraordinary speech on race in America that he delivered during the presidential campaign, this one looked at the issue of war and peace wisely, intelligently and compassionately, from all sides. At the core of Obama's address was the idea that peace should always be the ultimate goal, but that war is sometimes not just "necessary" but "morally justified."
I voted for Barack Obama and I have the greatest respect for him. He's spoken to the world, both our allies and those who oppose us, with a respect and compassion rare in an American president. I applaud his dedication to healing global rifts (especially those with the Muslim world), to eliminating nuclear weapons. If there was a new election held tomorrow, I'd vote for him again.
And yet...
"Necessary" "Morally justified"? When I listen to the president—when I listen to any political leader—talk about "just" and "necessary" wars, my hackles go up. To me, this thinking reflects an incredibly limited mind-set; one locked in the past. "We must begin," Obama stated, "by acknowledging the hard truth that we will not eradicate violent conflict in our lifetimes." Hard to argue with that when you view life through the lens of what I call the CNN Reality. If we focus exclusively on the way things have always been, if we lock ourselves into the vision of a world where hideous violence is an acceptable form of problem solving, then that's the world we're going to get. But experience has shown me that there is a deeper, a truer, reality beneath the skin of the world. One that has the potential to transform both the individual soul and the entire planet.
Looking through the lens of that Deeper Reality has shown me that the universe begins inside our own heads, hearts and souls; that we're all living in a dream, projected from both the personal and collective unconscious. (In the end, I don't think there's any difference between the personal and the collective, but that's another discussion for another time.) The microcosm, as they say, is the macrocosm: The smallest acts of kindness and compassion can act as a bridge between those inner and outer universes, rippling out and transforming the world. The old model—the one that clings to the concept of war as just and necessary—can collapse in the time it takes us to change our minds. To change our dreams.
Compassion, it seems to me, is the key: seeing people—however despicable their actions may be—not as "enemies" or "evil," but as flawed human beings, worthy, at the very least, of an attempt to understand what made them that way. "Make no mistake," the president explained, "evil does exist in the world." But evil, as we all know, is in the eye of the beholder. To Muslim extremists, we're evil. George W. Bush saw the Iraqis, the Koreans and the Iranians as an "axis of evil." When we (and when I say "we," I mean humanity as a whole, not just the United States) define our opponents as one-dimensional villains out of a 1940's comic book, we transform them into caricatures that can be obliterated without guilt or shame. If we continue to paint them as evil, war as just and necessary, then those opponents will continue do the same—and the cycle of violence will go on and on, till the end of the world.
"The nonviolence practiced by men like Gandhi and King," the president stated, "may not have been practical or possible in every circumstance, but the love that they preached—their faith in human progress—must always be the North Star that guides us on our journey." But how can anyone follow the North Star of King and Gandhi while justifying conflicts that brutalize and demean humanity? I wonder how many men told Gandhi that violence was "just" in the name of a free India, how many urged King on to "necessary" violence in the name of civil rights for African Americans. "A nonviolent movement," Obama went on, "could not have halted Hitler's armies. Negotiations cannot convince al-Qaida's leaders to lay down their arms." No, but who's to say what acts of wisdom and compassion could have prevented Hitler's rise to power or transformed the twisted, fundamentalist rage of men who thought blowing up innocents—and themselves with them—was some kind of doorway to Heaven?
Look: I'm not a politician or a diplomat whose job is to deal with the so-called harsh realities of life. I am, by trade and nature, a dreamer, and it's my job to ask: Why do we have to accept the Harsh Reality? Why can't we manifest a new, a better, one? We can keep regurgitating the old models—from a thousand years ago, seven decades ago or the recent past—and hold them up as examples of the way things have always been, the way things have to be, or we can refuse to buy into those myths. December 13, 2009 isn't December 7, 1941, it isn't September 11, 2001, it isn't even yesterday: it's a new world right now.
Maybe our political leaders will never embrace the idea that peace is possible, that war isn't a viable option—maybe, given the harrowing issues they have to deal with on a daily basis, they simply can't—but we can dream that dream into being today. You can call this unrealistic—starry-eyed idealism or crackpot mysticism—and, viewed from the realist's perspective, it absolutely is. But why not aim for the stars? Why not project—and believe, to the bottom of our souls—that peace, both personal and global, is possible this very moment?
And if I'm wrong? If I really am nothing but a starry-eyed, crackpot dreamer? Well, I still think my life, and the lives of those around me, will be better for having chosen to believe.
THE TROUBLE WITH REALITY
"The trouble with reality is it leaves a lot to the imagination."
This morning I was driving to an appointment, listening to a local radio station, when the DJ played a clip from John Lennon's December 9, 1974 conversation with Howard Cosell on Monday Night Football. He followed that with Cosell's announcement of Lennon's murder, six years later (almost to the day). I was astonished to find my eyes filling with tears, and a massive sadness gripping my soul, as if I was hearing about this tragedy for the very first time.
Twenty-nine years after his passing, this reality remains all the poorer for John Lennon's absence.
Posted by J.M. DeMatteis at 10:51 AM 26 comments
TOP TO BOTTOM
One of the questions writers often get—from both interviewers and fans—is "Of all the things you've worked on, what's your favorite?" Well, if you've only been a professional writer for a few years, that's probably an easy question to answer. If you've been doing it for more than thirty years, as I have, it's a little harder to winnow things down.
That said, I've decided to indulge myself and compile a Top Ten list. Keep in mind these aren't necessarily the best things I've ever done (I'll leave that for other people to decide): These are the projects that brought me the most joy, the most creative challenges. That stretched me—as both a craftsman and an artist. That were just plain fun.
Here they are, in no particular order:
1) ABADAZAD
I won't say much about this one—mainly because I wrote at length about it in previous posts. I will say again that Mike Ploog is one of the greatest fantasy illustrators, and one of the nicest guys, on the planet and that Abadazad—perhaps because I never got to complete the story—touches my heart in a way no other project on this list does. I still nurture hopes of rescuing Kate and Matt from literary limbo and bringing their adventure to a satisfying conclusion.
Speaking of Mike Ploog: if there was a #11 on this list, it would almost certainly be filled by Stardust Kid, another all-ages fantasy the estimable Mr. P and I collaborated on. If Mike is up for it, I'd love to return to the SDK universe one day.
2) THE COMPLEAT MOONSHADOW
In my early years in comics I blundered along, trying desperately to find my own voice as a writer and ending up sounding like a damaged clone, created from the badly-mixed DNA of Stan Lee, Steve Gerber, Len Wein, Roy Thomas and half-a-dozen other comic book writers I admired. It's not that my work was bad—well, actually, some of it was fairly horrendous—it's just that I hadn't found the way to fully express myself in the form. Looking back, I think I was trapped by the super-hero genre itself. As long as I was writing about the Defenders or Captain America, I would, in some way, be parroting stories, and styles, I'd been absorbing all my life.
Moonshadow changed that.
Someone (and for the life of me, I can't remember who!) once said that whatever story you're working on should be written as if it's the only one you'll ever tell—pouring all your thoughts, feelings, ideas, ideals, passions, philosophies, hopes and dreams...every iota of Who You Are...into it. That's what I did with Moonshadow. And it allowed me to step outside the Marvel-DC mindset and discover my own voice.
Of course it didn't hurt that I was working with Jon J Muth, as brilliant an artist as the medium has ever seen. His work always challenged me. Dared me to be better. I hope I did the same for him.
Nearly ten years after the original Moonshadow series saw print, Muth and I reunited for a one-shot graphic novel called Farewell, Moonshadow that I think is even better than the original run. Both the twelve issue series and the graphic novel are available in a hefty collection called The Compleat Moonshadow.
3) BROOKLYN DREAMS
If I was forced to pick a single favorite on this list, it would probably be Brooklyn Dreams. In an odd way it's the same story as the one I told in Moonshadow, only it's not presented as a fairy tale set in the far reaches of space...it's a (very) thinly-disguised autobiography that takes place on the streets of Brooklyn. I remember working on the script and feeling scared to death because BD was the single most personal piece I'd ever attempted. The main character's name may have been different, but it was my life I was writing about, in shameless, intimate detail. I've learned, over the years, that being terrified is usually a sign that I'm on to something good. It was certainly true in this case.
When I was developing Brooklyn Dreams, I had a certain art style in my head. In fact I knew exactly how I wanted the book to look, exactly how the drawing should interpret my elliptical, and time-jumping, story. When I first laid eyes on Glenn Barr's work, my head nearly exploded: What was there on the page was what I'd been seeing in my mind all along. And Glenn's uncanny resonance with the story remained, and deepened, throughout our collaboration.
Chemistry between a writer and artist can't be created. It's either there or it's not. I've worked on projects where the script was strong, the art was strong, but that indefinable magic between writer and illustrator simply wasn't there...and the story just died on the page. Not so with Glenn Barr. Our collaboration was instant magic...and, for that, I am forever grateful.
4) DR. FATE
Dr. Fate is a DC Comics character who's been around since the l940's. In l987, I revamped the character—with considerable help from the frighteningly-creative Keith Giffen—for a mini-series and then, some months later, continued the story in an ongoing series, wonderfully illustrated, with both humor and humanity, by Shawn McManus. I'd hazard a guess that most comics fans have never read our Dr. Fate run...and that many who did were baffled by it. I understand their confusion: Our Fate series wove together mysticism, sit-com silliness, super-hero action, romance, Eastern philosophy, infantile toilet jokes and Serious Musings On The Nature Of Existence. But that's exactly why I loved working on it.
It's a rare occasion when you can work on a preexisting DC or Marvel character and be allowed to completely stamp it with your own unique, and very personal, vision. It couldn't have happened with one of the Major Icons, and I'm not sure it could happen at all in today's comic book climate. But the 80's were the "anything goes" era in modern comics. Writers, artists and editors were willing to push the boundaries to wonderful (and sometimes ludicrous) extremes. It was an exciting time—and Dr. Fate was an exciting project. My editors—Karen Berger and Art Young—gave me the freedom to follow my muse wherever it led me. And, no matter what bizarre twists and turns the scripts took, Shawn was always there to bring them to vibrant life.
5) BATMAN: GOING SANE
When people talk to me about my super-hero stories, they inevitably bring up Kraven's Last Hunt as an example of my finest work—and who am I to argue?
Well, I guess I have to.
I think the best super-hero story I ever wrote was "Going Sane," which originally ran in four issues of DC's Legends of the Dark Knight. Here's the premise: The Joker kills Batman—at least he believes he does—and, with the primary reason for his existence eliminated, the villain's mind snaps. Of course the Joker is already insane, so when he snaps...he goes sane. Joe Kerr soon creates a new life for himself, complete with an office job and a loving fiancé. Batman, meanwhile, finds himself recuperating in a small town, far away from the madness of Gotham—and has to reassess his life and his identity. When the two finally come back together at the story's end, well...if you're as sentimental as I am, you just might find yourself shedding a tear for the Joker.
Again, no comic book story can succeed without the artwork—and the amazing Joe Staton (the guy has drawn everything from Scooby-Doo to Green Lantern) turned in some of the finest work of his career.
6) SPIDER-MAN:
KRAVEN'S LAST HUNT
(SPECTACULAR SPIDER-MAN #200)
"THE GIFT" (AMAZING SPIDER-MAN #400)
"THE KISS" (WEBSPINNERS #1)
I've written more Spider-Man stories than I'd care to count. No matter how many times I walk away from the character, I keep coming back...because he's real to me. I don't think there's a character, in any super-hero universe, more psychologically nuanced, emotionally-compelling and wonderfully-neurotic than Peter Parker. To this day I don't think of Peter as a fictional character: I think of him as an old friend.
As you can see, I cheated here. I didn't select one story, I selected five. (I could easily have added more: Spider-Man: The Lost Years comes immediately to mind.) The multi-part story collected as Kraven's Last Hunt—illustrated by Mike Zeck, at the top of his form—was the first super-hero story I wrote that allowed me to bring the lessons I'd learned writing Moonshadow over to the Marvel/DC mainstream. (I wrote a lengthy, and, I hope, interesting introduction for the collected edition, detailing the story's genesis.) "Best of Enemies" was the culmination of a two year storyline (and a two-year collaboration with one of my personal comic book heroes, Sal Buscema) exploring the relationship between Peter Parker and Harry Osborn—and it's my single favorite Spidey tale. "The Gift"—illustrated by one of the all-time great Spider-artists, Mark Bagley—featured the death of Aunt May (don't worry, she got better) and its publication resulted in one of the highlights of my career: a phone call from comics legend John Romita, Sr. telling me that the story had moved him to tears. "The Kiss" topped that, because I actually got to collaborate with Romita, Sr—on a short, sweet story about the last night Peter Parker and Gwen Stacy spent together.
7) SEEKERS INTO THE MYSTERY
In the 90's I did a number of projects for DC'S Vertigo line...but I can't think of one that means more to me than Seekers Into The Mystery. This was another case where the comics industry—specifically, editors Karen Berger and Shelly Bond—gave me a chance to write exactly what I wanted, in exactly the way I wanted. No constraints, no directives. And I got to do it in collaboration with the cream of the Vertigo crop: Glenn Barr, Jon J Muth, Sandman's Michael Zulli and Scary Godmother's Jill Thompson. The series—centered on a soul-sick, failed screenwriter named Lucas Hart—touched on everything from the toxic effects of sexual abuse to the omnijective reality of UFOs; from the pain of divorce to the descent of the God-Man. If I was listing these projects in order of preference, Seekers would be very close to the top of the list, which is why I was delighted when, earlier this year, Boom! Studios put out a collected edition of Seekers' first five issues. (I can't say for sure if we'll be seeing future volumes, but I remain hopeful.)
8) GREENBERG THE VAMPIRE
Remember when I said that Moonshadow was the first project that allowed me to find my own voice as a writer? Well, I lied. (Or, as Mr. Spock might say, I exaggerated.) A couple of years before Moonshadow, I did a story for Marvel's black and white anthology magazine, Bizarre Adventures, about a reclusive Jewish horror writer who also happened to be a vampire. I'd toyed with the idea as both a short story and a screenplay, which may explain why the characters hit the page fully alive and acting like, well, real people. There was none of the clunky dialogue that was littering my super-hero stories. Folks around the Marvel office responded very nicely to the story (which was beautifully illustrated by Steve Leialoha) but it was a one-shot deal...and I quickly went back to scripting earnest-but-awkward super-hero stories. (The problem certainly wasn't my passion: I was pouring my heart into those stories. It's just that my craft hadn't yet caught up to my aspirations.)
Then came Moonshadow and the breakthrough that saved me as a writer.
Around the same time, I was renegotiating my contract with Marvel and I asked then-editor-in-chief Jim Shooter if I could do an Oscar Greenberg graphic novel. He said yes (I'm sure he was just being nice. He couldn't have possibly believed that a story that was a cross between Portnoy's Complaint and Dracula—I didn't come up with that description, Dwayne McDuffie did—would sell). I called up a young artist named Mark Badger (at the time, we were working together on a mini-series called The Gargoyle—which just missed making this list) and Mark happily signed on. Badger went on to become one of my favorite collaborators ever. He's a unique talent, a brilliant storyteller...and his work on Greenberg was superb.
Greenberg didn't sell much...more than two decades have gone by and I have yet to see a royalty check...but it was another project that allowed me to get in my little boat and push out into uncharted waters. To try new things, explore new voices.
I'm hoping that, once they've completely exhausted their stock of characters for movie adaptations, someone at Marvel Films will realize that they own Greenberg the Vampire and...
Okay, it's a ridiculous thought—but allow me my delusions.
9) THE LIFE AND TIMES OF SAVIOR 28
Back in the 1980's, when I was writing Captain America, I hatched a story that would have seen a disgusted Cap turn his back on violence and begin a new life as a global peace activist. Marvel, unsurprisingly (well, it's unsurprising in retrospect, it shocked me at the time) said no and I filed the idea away; returning to it periodically over the years. Freed from the confines of the Marvel Universe, the idea slowly—very slowly, it took twenty-five years!—evolved into a saga, spanning seven decades of American pop culture and politics, called The Life and Times of Savior 28. Illustrated by the amazing Mike Cavallaro—an artist who was every bit as passionate about the story as I was—S-28 became one of the single most challenging, and rewarding, comic book projects of my career.
I think the story is far more relevant now, at the end of the Age of Bush, and the dawn of the Age of Obama, than it would have been had it come out in the Reagan Era. Comic books (and pop culture in general) have become far more violent. The spandex mindset that, however much we struggle to disguise it, says "All problems are ultimately solved by dropping a building on a so-called bad guy's head" has become even more dangerous—especially in a post-9/11 world where terrible damage has been done by global leaders who simplistically divide humanity into "true believers" and "infidels," "good guys" and "evil-doers."
In the end, though, The Life and Times of Savior 28 isn't really a story about politics, it's about one flawed man's attempt to change himself and the way he sees the world.
10) THE GIFFEN-DeMATTEIS UNIVERSE
Okay, so this one's another cheat: I'm collapsing my entire collaboration with Keith Giffen into one; but it really feels as if all our work together—from the 80's Justice League to Boom!'s Hero Squared (which, I'm happy to report, is currently being developed as a live-action TV movie) and our current work on Metal Men—is all of a piece. And that piece exists in its own little universe, far, far away from everything else I've done.
I've said it before but it bears repeating: Keith Giffen is as generous and gifted (well, gifted is too small a word. Someone once called Keith the Jack Kirby of my generation and I couldn't agree more) a collaborator as I've ever worked with. If he called me up tomorrow and asked me to co-write a Millie the Model revival, I'd say yes without hesitation. When I work with Giffen, it's not about the particular project, it's about the collaboration itself—and the tremendous fun we have together. We've been going at this, on and off, for more than twenty years. I don't see any reason to stop now.
I don't want to end this without mentioning a few of the genuine turkeys I've birthed over the years. Like the Marvel Team-Up issue featuring Spider-Man and Robert E. Howard's King Kull. ("Hiya, Kingsy," a time-traveling Spidey exclaims, "what's the haps?") Or the Defenders-Squadron Supreme epic that made almost no sense. Or the Spider-Man annual that tried to tie up loose ends from my canceled Man-Thing series (another favorite that almost made the Top Ten) and ended up making even less sense than the Squadron Supreme story. Or the Iceman mini-series that got off to a promising start and shattered into a thousand pathetic pieces before my horrified eyes. Or...
Well, I think you get the idea.
The good news is that the failures can be as important as the successes. (Although they're definitely not as much fun.) When you try something new and fall on your face you exercise creative muscles you never knew you had. And then you can use those muscles, with far more skill, on the next project. Of course, sometimes a bad story's just a bad story—but I have to believe that even the genuine stinkers help us to become better writers.
The truth is that—with rare, and miraculous, exceptions—it's pretty much impossible to judge your own work objectively. Some of the stories I've listed here might be the genuine turkeys...and some of those stinkers I'm trying to forget might be sitting at the top of someone else's Top Ten List.
THE TERRIBLE BUSINESS OF BEGINNING
I've been writing professionally now for more than thirty years and you would think (well, I would) that, after all this time, the business of writing would get easier; that I'd be able to walk into my office every morning, sit down at the computer and just start working.
You'd think that—but it's not true.
Even after three decades, every time I begin a new project it's as if I've never written before. As if I have no idea how to put two words together, let alone craft a plot, weave a theme, build a character. I stare at the blank computer screen, then retreat to the kitchen for a snack. I stare at the screen some more, then decide to clear off my desk. I go for a walk, then come back and surf on over to Google to see what people are saying about me (sometimes a pleasant experience and sometimes a truly depressing one).
Eventually something shifts and I start slapping ideas down on the page. Eventually, those ideas become a story. And then the story—as has been discussed before on this blog—begins to take on its own life, begins telling itself, and, yes, miraculously, it often does become easy.
But starting? It's a nightmare. The Terrible Business of Beginning can take hours, sometimes days, and, on rare occasions, it can take weeks of feeling like a half-insane trapped animal. I keep looking for ways to bypass this particularly unpleasant experience, but, after years of angst and torment, I'm convinced that my seeming avoidance is a pivotal part of the creative process. That those hours, days, weeks when my conscious mind thinks that it's blocked, my unconscious is working away feverishly, prying open the door between the apparently real and the apparently imaginary: tuning the psychic radio to precisely the right station so that the signals from the Land of Story will beam in loud and clear.
So I've learned, grudgingly (very grudgingly), to honor the process. Doesn't mean I like it; but I've at least reached the point in my life where I can recognize that those moments when I'm convinced that I've spent thirty years fooling my audience (and myself along with them) and that I'll never be able to write again, are actually moments of genuine grace.
DOING THE MONGO HUSTLE
In my role as editor-in-chief of upstart publisher Ardden Entertainment, I feel it is my sworn duty to alert you to the fact that Flash Gordon: The Mercy Wars—which collects the acclaimed (and not just by me!) six-issue mini-series by Brendan Deneen and Paul Green—will soon be available. It was a delight to edit the series and to watch Brendan and Paul breathe new life into Alex Raymond's classic characters. Also coming your way is Flash Gordon: The Secret History of Mongo. This is an anthology of all-new adventures, exploring the rich mythology of Raymond's universe, with stories provided by yours truly and Shawn McManus, Tom DeFalco and Joe Staton, Joe Casey and Omaha Perez, Denny O'Neil and Mike Cavallaro, Len Wein and Shanth Enjeti, Jim Kreuger and Pedro Delgado and the aforementioned team of Deneen and Green. If you're a fan of character-driven space opera, I think you'll enjoy both these collections.
A THANKSGIVING APOLOGY
Yes, I know I promised I'd have the first part of my "Meeting Lennon" adventure up by Thanksgiving, and that's just two days away, but this past week I've been having some minor (but annoying) health problems that have slowed me down considerably. Profound, and heartfelt, apologies for not living up to my promise. I'll try to get to the Lennon post as soon as possible: I've been writing it in my head, it's just a question of getting it down on (cyber) paper.
While you're waiting, check out this link. The video, of John Lennon performing "Stand By Me," was done for a British television show called The Old Grey Whistle Test—the host, Bob Harris, introduces the clip, putting it in historical context—but it was filmed in New York, at a recording studio called the Record Plant. The picture below was taken that day and the guy playing piano is an old Brooklyn buddy of mine named Jon Cobert.
And guess who was sitting on the other side of the glass, in the producer's booth, watching the whole thing?
Enjoy! And have a very happy Thanksgiving.
Posted by J.M. DeMatteis at 11:23 AM 6 comments
THE BEATLES...AGAIN
There's an excellent Beatles documentary, directed by Bob Smeaton (who also directed The Beatles Anthology), coming up later this month on the History Channel; but, of course, in the age of the internet, you don't have to wait that long to see The Beatles On Record: it's right here for your listening and dancing pleasure. There's nothing new or surprising, but there's lots of wonderful footage and in-studio chatter. Better yet, the film doesn't dwell on behind-the-scenes melodrama: the focus is strictly on the music, year by year, from "Love Me Do" to Abbey Road. If you're a Beatles fanatic—and I know there are many of you out there—I'm sure you'll enjoy it.
THREE PLUGS AND A PROMISE
As I think I've mentioned here before, my son Cody is a very skilled comic book editor, currently working for Devil's Due, where his Major Project of the moment is a continuation of the cult-favorite Jericho TV series. Jericho, Season Three: Civil War is a six-issue mini that comes out November 25th: the first issue—co-written by Jericho writer/producer Dan Shotz and another of the show's writers, Robert Levine—continues exactly where the series left off when it was unceremoniously yanked by CBS a couple of years back. I've been privy to the unfolding creative process and I can safely say that, if you're one of the millions of hardcore fans of the show, you will love this. The interior art is by Alejandro F. Giraldo. Below is the first issue cover by Scott West.
While I'm plugging away, I should also mention that the first issue of Casper and the Spectrals, the Casper update I'm editing for Ardden Entertainment, hit the stores this past week. It's a fresh, fun reimagining of the Casper mythos, with a story by yours truly, Brendan Deneen and Todd Dezago, a terrific script by Todd and equally terrific art from Pedro Delgado. We've worked hard to make our Casper a smart, all-ages comic book and I suspect that it will be enjoyed by kids—of any age—with a fondness for the Friendly Ghost.
Speaking of plugs—well, hair plugs—I recently stumbled across a site that may be one of the weirdest I've ever encountered on the web. Yes, I know that's saying a lot, but just click here and tell me that you don't agree. As this essay (one of the few posts from my Amazon Blog that hasn't vanished into the merciless depths of cyber-space) will attest, I'm a total Shatnerd—but an entire website devoted to Shatner's hairline? As Kevin Costner observed in Oliver Stone's JFK: "We're through the looking glass here, people."
I've decided that the time has come to finally write about my long-ago encounters with John Lennon, so be on the lookout for "Meeting Lennon, Part One," which will be appearing here before Thanksgiving. Promise!
THAT WHICH IS MOST NEEDED
Here's another piece from the Lost Amazon Archives that I thought was worth re-posting.
The older I get the more I realize that the most important thing any of us can do in life is strive to live compassionately, keeping our hearts open, treating others with understanding and, most important, simple human kindness. "That which is most needed," as Buddha said, in words that have echoed through my life for decades, "is a loving heart." I truly believe that the microcosm is the macrocosm. That our smallest acts of compassion resonate across the planet. That one heart can quite literally change the world.
Of course it's one thing to make compassion an intention in our lives and quite another to live it. Oh, I try, I honestly do, to be as good and decent a person as I can—I've been consciously working on myself, on my connection to the Divine, for more than thirty-five years—but the truth is, for all my work, for all my striving, I'm regularly astounded by my ability to say or do spectacularly stupid or hurtful things.
I've found that ninety-nine percent of the time, when I've done something to wound another person, I've done it unconsciously: I was so clueless I wasn't even aware of my idiotic actions. When I discover my transgression, my response is usually the same: guilt, misery, shame, and abject apologies. (The first three, I've decided, are fairly useless. The abject apologies are absolutely necessary.) Then—what else can I do?—I get up out of my pool of self-pity and determine to be more conscious of my actions in the future, to open my heart a little wider, to be more aware.
That said, I think that no matter how hard we try to live our highest ideals, we are, at some point—and, I suspect, with some regularity—going to screw up: say or do the wrong thing. Make idiotic mistakes. Hurt someone's feelings. The fact is we're human—if we were meant to be pure and perfect angels we'd have been born with wings—so all we can do is our best. Sometimes our best is extraordinary, sometimes it's pathetic; but it's the effort that counts, I think.
In Kurt Vonnegut's wonderful 1965 novel, God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater (one of my all-time favorite books), the main character—a man who cares so much about his fellow humans that it's driven him to the brink of madness—is asked to baptize newborn twins. Eliot Rosewater then improvises a succinct, honest and heartfelt welcome to Planet Earth that concludes like this: "There's only one rule that I know of, babies—: 'God damn it, you've got to be kind.'"
Those words, like Buddha's request for a loving heart, have stayed with me for decades. Neither quote is especially poetic, but both contain enough truth to change the world.
One heart at a time.
INTO IMAGINALIS
In May of 2006, Mike Ploog and I were in Washington, D.C., riding high at Book Expo America. Abadazad, our all-ages comic book series that nearly drowned in the tsunami that was the CrossGen collapse, had been miraculously resurrected as a children's book series, thanks to the benevolent spirit of Walt Disney and the brilliant efforts of Hyperion Books for Children vice-president/editor-in-chief Brenda Bowen. So there we were, walking up stairs decorated with Mike's art, strolling beneath giant posters of Zad's beautiful, blue-skinned Queen Ija, and marveling at the fact that almost everyone in the hall had an Abadazad lanyard around his or her neck. Drunk with delight, we signed advance copies of the first two books in the series—we'd contracted for eight, with the possibility of even more—and listened, with equal joy, as a Hyperion executive all-but guaranteed us a second printing. (This, after being told that The Road to Inconceivable and The Dream Thief had first printings of 100,000 copies each.) The icing on the cake came at the Hyperion dinner on Saturday night, when we were approached by Michele Norris of NPR's All Things Considered, who invited us to come on her show to talk about Abadazad.
The next few months found us finishing up work on the third book in the series—The Puppet, the Professor and the Prophet—traveling to Finland for the Helsinki Book Fair, doing signings and, finally, landing that NPR interview. The night the interview aired, we watched, stunned, as Zad shot up the Amazon.com sales charts. "Dreams come true and miracles happen," as someone (I think it was me), once wrote in a song.
But by December of '06, when I turned in the manuscript for the fourth book in the series, Historcery, we discovered that the good ship Abadazad had hit an iceberg—and we were sinking. Sales, we were told, were disappointing (although healthy in the comic book market and with our friends in Finland and other Nordic countries) and it had been decided that The Puppet, the Professor and the Prophet—the best in the series, in my opinion—would only be published in England. Brenda, who always believed in our story, and in us, was looking for ways to save Abadazad. One thing she suggested was dumping the hybrid form—the books were part prose, part comics—and doing a straight-ahead prose novel (with new illustrations from Mike, of course). Were we disappointed that the series hadn't done better? Absolutely. Still, having seen Abadazad go through one death and resurrection, we were ready to see it rise again. And the challenge of turning Kate Jameson's adventure into a novel—and actually finishing it in one volume—was a very exciting one. But the excitement was short-lived—
—because, within a few months, Brenda Bowen—our champion, our guardian angel, our biggest booster—had departed the halls of Hyperion and we were left in the hands of...well, we weren't quite sure who. Our spirits brightened when we learned that Brenda's right-hand man. a smart young editor named Christian Trimmer, had taken Abadazad on: Christian was a huge fan of our series and he very much wanted to see it continue; but, without a heavy-hitter like Brenda there to advocate for us, we didn't know how far Christian's enthusiasm would take us.
Our spirits brightened again when Christian told us that he'd spoken to Brenda's replacement (I honestly don't remember the executive's name), who, we were assured, very much wanted to make Abadazad work. After discussing different ways we could go with the series, what formats might be best, we were told to hang tight while The Powers That Be worked out a solution. So, heartened and hopeful, we waited.
And we waited.
And then, in the spring of 2007, the word came down: No. Just like that. The gods of Hyperion had thought it over and decided, for reasons that never became clear, that they didn't want to invest any more time and money in Abadazad.
We were finished. Just like that!
Mike and I went through a shared grieving process, after which I, literally, slipped into my personal bed of despair. In Victorian novels, there's often talk of characters "taking to their beds": putting the back of a hand to the forehead, with a Lord Byron-like flourish, and collapsing among the covers, in a wasted, heaving heap. Well, that's pretty much what happened to me. I had invested so much of myself, of my heart, hope and inspiration, in Abadazad that the cancellation of the series hit me like the death of a loved one. Part of my depression certainly involved the loss of income. As noted, we'd signed for eight books and those upcoming four were going to carry me—and my family—through the next year. That's not a small thing. But that wasn't the core of my despair. What truly devastated me was the loss of those characters. Characters? No: beloved friends. I believed in Kate and Matt Jameson, Professor Headstrong, Queen Ija and all the rest. Believed in them with every cell in my body, every vibrating particle of my consciousness. With all my heart. And now, I thought, they're gone. Trapped in some literary limbo, beyond my reach. How will Kate ever rescue Matt from the Lanky Man, how will—
Characters trapped in limbo?
What a fantastic idea for a story!
That concept smacked me across the face, grabbed me by the throat and dragged me out of my bed and into my office, where I found myself typing furiously, outlining the tale of a twelve year old girl—Mehera Crosby—whose life is upended when her favorite book series is canceled; upended even more when she discovers that the characters she so loves are alive, trapped in a strange and deadly limbo—and it's up to her to rescue them. I called the story Mundus Imaginalis and writing that outline totally dissolved my foul mood.
For a few hours, anyway.
Once I was done detailing the major beats of the story, exhilaration passed and I crawled, exhausted, back to bed, wrapping myself tight in a cocoon of misery for a few more days. Then I got up and went back to work. Really, what choice did I have? My ability to create goes to the heart of who I am. No matter what projects may explode in my hands, what doors may slam in my face, I can always (well, once I lick my wounds) pick myself up and begin again. As a writer I live, not from logic, but from imagination. From a profound belief in the power of the impossible. And, in the end, faith in the impossible is all I need. (You can bet my buddy Mike Ploog feels the same way: he's rocketed on to other projects, bringing to them the same passion and brilliance he brought to Abadazad.)
Some weeks after Zad's death, I found out that Brenda Bowen had landed safely at HarperCollins, where she was starting up a new imprint, the Bowen Press. Contractual obligations prevented Brenda from discussing new material with me—or anyone she'd worked with at Disney—until the beginning of 2008, but, when Brenda and I finally got together over lunch in January of that year, one of the several ideas I handed her was Mundus Imaginalis. And that, I'm happy to report, was the one she loved. It took months—as it usually does—for the contracts to be ironed out but, eventually, I was off, starting work on a novel—the title wisely shortened to Imaginalis—that's now completed and awaiting its June, 2010 release from the HC imprint Katherine Tegen Books. (What happened to the Bowen Press? In yet another twist in the tale, Brenda ended up leaving HarperCollins. She's now a literary agent, working for Sanford J. Greenburger Associates—and, I'm certain, doing it with skill, wisdom and extraordinary grace.)
I'd love to tell you that I know—to the bottom of my soul—that Imaginalis will be a spectacular success; but, if the preceding tale makes anything clear, it's that the only thing I know for sure is I don't know a thing. I certainly hope that Imaginalis does well, that it transforms my career, and my life, in magical, miraculous ways; but, if it doesn't, I'll take to my bed for a few days, bang my head against the wall, rail at the gods, whimper pathetically—and then get back to work, setting my sights on the next impossible goal.
Because I'm a writer—and that's what I do.
SUNDAY MORNING DREAMING
Several years back, I was away on retreat at a spiritual center in South Carolina and I had a glimpse—just a glimpse—of how much of an illusion (what the Hindus would call Maya) this world really is. Everything around me felt as insubstantial as heat trails wavering on the highway on a hot summer day. The people I encountered seemed like they were weightless, unreal: made of morning mist—or perhaps pixie dust. I mention this because I've been reworking an old story of mine that deals with the idea that this life we're living is as much a dream as the ones that fill our heads when we're asleep; that, in fact, we're asleep and dreaming right now—and, if we knew that, really knew it, we could become lucid dreamers and transform our world.
If this is true—and the older I get, the truer it becomes, not just philosophically but experientially—then it means I'm dreaming everything around me. The entire universe (including all of you reading this) doesn't really exist, any more than the people and things you encounter in a dream exist. You are all reflections of my consciousness, of my vision of the world, of my vision of my Self. A movie projected from my unconscious mind. And here's the paradox:
The same is true for you. Everything you see, everything you experience, is a dream dreamed just for you, for your amusement and unfoldment, for your awakening and ultimate joy. I am just a dream you have dreamed. This blog is just a dream you have dreamed.
And here's the kicker: You don't exist. And neither do I. We're both thoughts floating in the mind of the One Dreamer, the Only Dreamer, God Himself. (I say He, but I could just as easily say She or It.) It's God's dream, all of it, and He's dreaming it through us and with us and—best of all—as us.
Think of it like this: You're writing a novel and become so immersed in your story, so in love with your characters, that you completely identify with your fictional world. When you write the hero, you are the hero, when you write the villain, you are the villain. Sometimes you even forget that you're you, the writer, and that what you're creating is just a story—and then the tale seems to start telling itself, your characters take on lives of their own.
This metaphor breaks down after a certain point, because—if a multitude of spiritual paths and traditions are to be believed—in the cosmic drama that is Creation, in the dream that the Only Dreamer is dreaming, the Divine Author doesn't just imagine the tale, He consciously descends into his own story in order to awaken his characters to the truth that—much like a hologram—each one isn't just a piece of the tale, each one is everyone and everything in the tale. And more: each one is the Author Himself, in an extremely clever disguise. Some of the characters embrace what the Author is saying. Some deny it. Some hate the idea and oppose Him. Yet, to the Author, it's all an essential part of a wonderful story. Even the opposition. Especially the opposition. (Let's face it, what good's a story without a strong antagonist? Well, I have a theory that it could be even better—but that's another post for another time.)
If you accept this, even for a moment, the inevitable question that arises is: What kind of dream are we choosing to dream right now (and if each one of us is the Dreamer, then it absolutely comes down to personal choice)—and what miraculous new dream can we manifest tomorrow? Even if this is nonsense—the biggest load of pseudo-mystical, New Age, quasi-Eastern moonshine ever concocted—how much about ourselves and our world could we change if we lived as if we believed it was true?
This universe we inhabit is so unfathomably huge that no one perspective could ever capture more than a splinter of its magnificence (in other words: everything I say is true—except when it's not), so take the preceding as a Sunday morning brew of faith, hope and imagination. I invite you to pour your own faith and imagination into the mix. And let's see what miracles we can manifest, in this strange and wonderful dream we're dreaming.
Next stop: Imaginalis.
ORSON AND VICTOR
The rest of my story about the demise of Abadazad and the birth of Imaginalis will have to wait until next week because I'm busy finishing up an animation script for a new series created by Samurai Jack's Genndy Tartakovsky. While you're waiting—or even if you're not—here's something I think you'll enjoy.
In 1937, Orson Welles—then a twenty-two year old force of nature who was transforming the American theater—adapted and directed a brilliant seven part radio version of Victor Hugo's Les Miserables. I think Les Miz is one of the most magnificent stories ever created: a profound, deeply moving, tale of life, death, sin, redemption, war, revolution, true love and the majesty of God expressed through the humility of man. The combination of Welles—if you've been reading The Life and Times of Savior 28, you know I'm a major Welles fanatic—and Hugo is something to be savored. And here's the good news: you can download all seven episodes for free—and, yes, it's legal—right here at one of the internet's most rewarding sites, Archive.org.
If you decide to give Orson and Victor a listen, take my advice: Wait till you're alone, preferably at night, stretch out on your bed or couch, shut off the lights, open your mind and just listen. Radio drama was a unique and powerful art form that, for a few magnificent decades, dominated the American landscape—and Orson Welles was one of its absolute masters. If you love having your imagination actively engaged by a wonderful story (and I suspect most of the people reading this fall into that category), you're in for a great ride.
ABADAZAD...AGAIN
I want to write about the genesis of my upcoming fantasy novel, Imaginalis—and I will, very soon—but in order to do that, it's important for you to understand the long and tortuous journey of the project that preceded it, Abadazad—because it was Zad's demise that sparked the idea for the new book. I'd love to just link you to a lengthy post I did, a few years back, on my Amazon.com blog, but, as I've mentioned before, Amazon has pretty much torched those archives. What follows is a slightly-edited version of that post. It ends on what was, at the time, a justifiably happy note. When I continue the story, I'll fill you in on what happened after that initial rush of pre-publication joy and how Abadazad's crash and burn led to the birth of the kingdom of Imaginalis. But, for now, let's go back in time to 2006 for the Semi-Secret History of Abadazad.
I've often quoted Joseph Campbell's famous advice to "follow your bliss": In my experience, following your deepest passions may not lead you exactly where you want to go, but they'll always lead you someplace good; and sometimes your final destination will be better than the one you had in mind.
Case in point: Abadazad.
As many of you know, the first two books in the Abadazad series—The Road To Inconceivable and The Dream Thief—came out just about a month ago. What many of you don't know is how long it took to get here. Looking back, it's a lesson to me in how important it is to hold tight to our dreams...even when everyone around us is telling us to let them go.
Back in the mid-1980's I had an idea for a story called "Silver Shoes." It was about a little girl, living with her abusive father, who's befriended by an old woman named Dorothy. Not just any Dorothy: this old lady claims to be Dorothy Gale, from L. Frank Baum's Wizard of Oz. After Dorothy passes away, the girl finds a gift the old woman has left behind for her: a pair of silver shoes (that's what they were in Baum's book. MGM magically transformed them into technicolor-friendly ruby slippers for the 1939 film) that the girl uses to escape her father and live happily ever after in Oz. It was, I thought, a wonderful idea, but I never did much with it. At the time I was fairly immersed in the Marvel and DC comic book universes and there was really no place for "Silver Shoes" in those worlds. I recall pitching the idea to a television series called Tales From The Darkside...a kind of low-rent Twilight Zone...but they passed. (I may have even pitched it to the revived Twilight Zone a few years later. Trivia Fact Of The Day: My first professional sale in that strange land called Hollywood was a 1986 Zone episode called "The Girl I Married.")
Rejection is part and parcel of the freelance writer's life, so I just sighed, filed the story away...and forgot about it.
For ten years.
In the mid-90's I started toying with an idea about a mother who discovers that her abducted son has been taken to a magical world that—she'd assumed—only existed in books. I named the world Abadazad—and began developing it as a movie treatment. In fact, it was the comment of a producer I'd pitched the story to that led me to change the main character from a parent to an older sibling. Without that offhand remark, Kate Jameson might never have been born.
The more I worked to flesh out the Abadazad concept, the more I was convinced it should be a comic book. The comic book business had been exploding since the 80's, opening the door on new—and far more challenging—content. This growth allowed me to do projects like Moonshadow, Brooklyn Dreams, and Seekers Into The Mystery—all aimed at an adult audience. Unfortunately, this new direction left what was once the prime target audience for comic books...children...out in the cold. As a parent—and, as a reader who's taken many nurturing journeys to Oz, Wonderland, Neverland and Narnia—I found this a frustrating state of affairs (to say the least). So I hatched a plan:
My idea was to do smart, literate, beautifully-illustrated comics for kids . The comic book equivalent of the finest in children's literature. (I'd actually attempted this once before, in the late 80's, with a series called The Stardust Kid. Took me more than fifteen years to get that one into print.) At first—encouraged by my old friend, and Overseer of DC Comics' Vertigo empire, Karen Berger—I tried to sell everyone from Marvel to Archie on a proposal for an entire line of sophisticated kids comics. When that failed, I whittled the concept down to two titles: one of them—The Life and Adventures of Skylar Orion—was a co-creation with Sandman illustrator Michael Zulli. The other was Abadazad.
Skylar almost got off the ground a couple of times, but never quite made it. Michael and I put it aside—and I focused my energies on the Land of Zad. By this time I'd begun weaving Abadazad into my daughter's bedtime stories—and I was becoming obsessed with the idea of creating a comic book that I could share with her.
Out I went (again!) into the marketplace: You can still hear the echo from all the doors that slammed in my face.
Nobody wanted it. Nobody got it. Well, that's not completely true. There were a few editors who understood what I was trying to do—Joey Cavalieri and Shelly Bond at DC, Philip Simon at Dark Horse—but they weren't the ones who made the Big Decisions. Still, I'm forever grateful for their encouragement along the way.
Years were passing and the comic book landscape was changing rapidly, skewing ever older. The notion of doing kid-friendly comics, at least for a mainstream audience, was looking more and more hopeless. But the deeper I got into Abadazad, the more I fell in love with it. The idea was pulsing through my blood, my bones, my soul. I knew Kate, Matt, Queen Ija and The Lanky Man—and I had to tell their story. Problem was, there really weren't many avenues left open.
In 2003, I decided to give it a last shot with a relatively new company called CrossGen. I didn't know all that much about them, but they seemed interesting, forward-thinking. And they had a new line called Code Six that seemed perfect for Abadazad.
My proposal arrived at the CrossGen office on a Wednesday. Two days later I got a call from Code Six editor Ian Feller, who told me that he absolutely loved Abadazad—and so did CG's owner and guiding light, Mark Alessi. All the rejections had rattled my brain considerably, so I wasn't quite sure I was hearing correctly: "You actually want to do this?" Ian assured me that they did. (And, for that, both Ian and Mark have permanent plaques in my Hall of Gratitude.)
The enthusiasm at CrossGen was encouraging, to say the least—but I went from encouraged to completely blissed-out when Alessi recruited Mike Ploog to do the art for Abadazad. Mike, if you don't know, is one of the greatest fantasy illustrators on the planet. He'd made his mark in comics in the l970's and then (with a few rare and brilliant exceptions) left the business to focus on the world of film, where he's done storyboarding and production design on everything from Superman II to Shrek. Having been a huge fan of Mike's work at Marvel, I was delighted—and really, that's too small a word—that he'd chosen to return to full-time comic book illustrating with Abadazad.
Mike and I hit it off pretty much from our first phone conversation and the more we worked together, the better it got. When we started out, I wrote detailed outlines/descriptions of the characters...and those went off to Mike (who lives in a hobbit-hole, somewhere in an English forest). He then did designs based on those notes. Sometimes Mike would give me exactly what I saw in my head, sometimes he went off in a new direction and came up with something better than I could have ever imagined...and sometimes I drove the poor guy crazy, making him redraw and redraw till the characters were just right.
The result was magical. The kind of creative combustion I'd only seen happen a handful of times in my career. With each issue we produced, Mike and I were pushing ourselves into new, and more creatively exhilarating, places: We were flying high.
Then, after only three issues of Abadazad had seen print, our publisher crashed and burned: CrossGen went bankrupt. I don't need to go into all the depressing details here but let me say that, by the summer of '04, The Esteemed Mr. Ploog and I had hired a lawyer in a bid to get Abadazad back. We were hopeful—but we knew the process could take years. Which meant that, for the moment at least, Abadazad was dead in the water.
Rather than sink into the quagmire of our misery (which was considerable), we decided to do the only thing we're really any good at: create. I dusted off an old project of mine—the aforementioned Stardust Kid—and Mike told me, in about five minutes, how to make the story better than ever. We corralled our Abadazad colorist, Nick Bell, and letterer Dave Lanphear—and we were off.
All the while Abadazad was hovering, a dark cloud, in the back of our minds. (And the legal bills were piling up, too—which certainly didn't help things.) We'd heard about various companies sniffing around the CrossGen corpse—the name Disney came up once or twice—but these were just rumors, so we kept working on Stardust Kid and hoping for the best.
The best arrived in the form of an e-mail from Brenda Bowen, vice-president and editor-in-chief of Hyperion Books For Children. Brenda told me how much she loved Abadazad and that she envisioned relaunching it as a series of children's books.
There are moments in our lives when our intuition rocks us, when we can actually feel the universe shifting beneath our feet: reading Brenda's e-mail was one of those moments. (A brief phone conversation with Brenda only deepened this feeling.) I wasn't sure where this contact would lead us, but I knew, with every fiber of my being, that this was a turning point. More important: the very fact that Brenda understood Abadazad...what it was and what it could be...gave me hope.
I forwarded the e-mail on to Mike, who was equally intrigued by Brenda's enthusiasm and grasp of the material—as well as the opportunities that making a deal with Disney/Hyperion would offer.
Disney Publishing did win the bidding—and we were stunned to discover that the reason they went after CrossGen in the first place was because of Abadazad. We were told, point blank, that Disney was going to walk away from the entire CrossGen deal if they couldn't come to an agreement with us.
Wait a minute? Our little comic book? The one nobody wanted to publish? My head was spinning.
Long story short (well, shorter): After some heated negotiating, an extremely satisfactory deal was struck and we were suddenly rocketed from Legal Limbo straight to the Magic Kingdom. Was I happy? Delirious. I'm a Total Disnoid. Walt Disney is one of my heroes: it's extraordinary what one man, armed only with will and imagination, accomplished. To have Abadazad become a part of that history, that legacy, is a genuine honor.
Now jump ahead to May, 2006: I'm at Book Expo America in Washington, D.C. The first two Abadazad books are days away from hitting book stores. Mike Ploog and I walk in and receive our official BEA badge-lanyards. What's on them? Our Abadazad logo. We look at the stairs leading to the upper level: they're completely covered in gorgeous Ploog art. We head for the stairs leading to the lower level...and there's an enormous banner with Queen Ija's face on it, hovering over the crowds like a victory banner.
I'd started out writing a fairy tale and now I was standing in the middle of it.
Twenty years since "Sliver Shoes" edged up through my unconscious. Ten years since the first version of Kate Jameson's odyssey took shape on paper. Slammed doors. Bankruptcies. Lawsuits. Despair. And I'm grateful for all of it. Because now I'm sitting here holding these two magical books in my hand. An initial print-run of 100,000 for each book. Starred review in Publisher's Weekly. And we're just starting on this journey.
Inconceivable, isn't it?
If I've learned anything from this wild ride, it's that, yes, you have to follow your bliss—but you also have to know that your bliss might take you down a very long road. And that you simply can't give up.
Far more important: Have faith. In yourself and in the universe. Because it's just possible that every obstacle you encounter is really an opportunity in disguise. That every door slamming in your face, every (apparently) awful thing that happens along the way—is leading you to a place far better than you could have ever dreamed.
So don't just follow your bliss: hang on to it for dear life. And don't let go.
That advice would serve me well in the following months, as Disney's Abadazad Ride went spinning out of control, crashing into Sleeping Beauty's Castle. That's the bad news. The good news is that, without the crash, I never would have discovered the dimensional doorway that led me from Abadazad to a new world called Imaginalis. I'll share that story with you next week.
A SHORT PLUG
I've just launched a new business—but I'm not going to flog Creation Point Story Consultation here. If you're at all interested, just click on this link.
See? I told you it would be short!
REMEMBERING ABADAZAD
Today I found myself going through some old folders filled with amazing Mike Ploog art from our Abadazad series. For those of you who never journeyed to Zad, this was a story that began life as a CrossGen comic book which—after CG's collapse—morphed into a hybrid book series (part prose, part comics) published by Disney's Hyperion Books for Children. It's been two years since Hyperion pulled the plug on the Abadazad books and, frankly, I still haven't gotten over it. There are very few projects in my entire career that have meant as much to me. (Interestingly, the demise of Abadazad led directly to the birth of my upcoming novel, Imaginalis—but that's another story for another time.) I still miss Kate and Little Martha, Professor Headstrong, Queen Ija, Master Wix and all the rest and I never give up hope that we'll somehow be able to rescue them from the limbo they're trapped in and start the stories anew.
While going through the old files, I found three never-used covers for the Hyperion series (all of which are ©copyright Disney Publishing) that I thought I'd share with you. There was some concern, once our initial sales figures came in, that Ploog's gorgeous covers—which featured jaw-dropping portraits of the characters—were, perhaps, too quiet for our intended audience. Our editor, the amazing Brenda Bowen, suggested a new approach (which included a prominent display of the Disney logo) and the Hyperion art department worked these covers up using preexisting Ploog art. Here's the revised version of The Road To Inconceivable:
And here's the proposed cover for The Dream Thief:
And, finally, here's the alternate cover for the third book in the series:
The idea was eventually shelved and the axe fell not long after. In fact the third book, which I think was the best in the series, only came out in England (under its original title, The Puppet, the Professor and the Prophet: you can still find copies on Amazon's UK site) with a cover even better than the one above. Still, it's interesting—and a little sad—to look back at this group of mock-ups and wonder if they would have made any difference in our sales.
When I was in Baltimore last weekend, a number of people at the convention asked me about Abadazad's future. I'll tell you what I told them: I have this feeling (not based on anything logical, no messy facts involved. It's purely intuitive) that Abadazad will be back one day. I don't know why I feel that way, I just do. This is a series with a life, and a heart, all its own. The Zadians have defied the odds before—we were pretty much dead in the water after CrossGen folded—and I suspect they'll defy them again. If that day comes, if I find myself once again writing the adventures of Kate and Company, I will be one very happy writer.
TWO ANNOUNCEMENTS AND A QUESTION
1) I'd been planning to attend this weekend's Big Apple Convention in New York City, but I'm sorry to say that some last-minute snafus have forced a change of plans. Given the guest-list and the venue, I suspect this new incarnation of Big Apple will be around for some time to come—so here's to next year.
2) There's another article up about my Kaine story in the new Web of Spider-Man, this time at Newsarama. Check it out if you're so inclined.
3) Could somebody out there please explain to me why Levi Johnston—a kid whose greatest achievement is impregnating the unwed daughter of a politician—is considered a celebrity?
RETURN TO THE TOWER
Well, I've had a few days to digest my trip to Baltimore. As I said in a previous post, I'm not much of a convention goer and I tend to find more than an hour or two of crowds and noise incredibly draining, both physically and psychically. That said, the Baltimore Comic-Con was one of the best I've ever been to. For one thing, it was a comic book convention. No video game companies, no porn stars, no Hollywood studios. Everyone there was either a creator or a reader of comic books. In fact, the only celebrity I glimpsed the whole time was 30 Rock's Scott Adsit—who was there as a fan, walking the floor, talking to people, gentle and unassuming: a fellow geek. That was the tone of the whole weekend: gentle and unassuming. All the folks who came to talk to me and have me sign their books were heartfelt and sincere—and their kind words left me profoundly moved. Working away, alone in my office, it's often hard to know if what I do really matters to anyone. How nice to be reminded, by such nice people, that it does matter; that, in some small way, my words have opened minds and touched hearts.
Along with meeting the fans, I got to see old friends like Len Wein, Todd Dezago and Ross Richie, spend quality-time with my Savior 28 collaborator Mike Cavallaro (who was there with Dean Haspiel and the ACT-I-VATE gang) and meet Steve Englehart—whose stellar work on titles like Doctor Strange, Captain America, Detective Comics and Justice League helped deepen and expand the super hero genre in the 70's. (I'm happy to report that Steve isn't just a terrific writer, he's an extremely nice guy.) I even ran into one of the first editors I worked for, back when I was starting out at DC Comics: Jack C. Harris. We hadn't seen each other in...well, more years than I'd care to count.
So thanks to Marc Nathan, and everyone involved in putting the Baltimore Con together, for making this mildly neurotic, easily-overwhelmed writer feel very much at home.


text:
1Geography and ecology
Rincon (surfspot)
For the place in San Diego County, see Rincon, California.
For the surf spot in Puerto Rico, see Rincón, Puerto Rico § Surfing.
Rincon (Spanish, "angle" or "corner") is a surf spot located at the Ventura and Santa Barbara County line in Southern California, United States. Also known as the "Queen of the Coast", Rincon is one of the most famous surf spots in California, known around the world for its well-formed waves and long rides.[1][2] The book 100 Best Surf Spots in the World rates Rincon at 24.[3] It is best at low tide during the winter months when swells are coming mostly from the west and northwest. There is a gated residential community that occupies most of the Rincon beachfront. Public access is provided at parking lots on both sides of the gated community, with restrooms and a picnic area in the upper parking lot, Rincon Beach Park.[4]
Rincon Point is home to the Rincon Classic[5] surf championship scheduled for January each year. The championship draws local surf greats and spectators to the beach every year. Though scheduled for January, the event is often delayed until surf conditions merit a contest. Once these surf conditions are met the contest is held from Saturday through Sunday. There are multiple divisions ranging from the Legends (55+) to the gremlins (U12). There are nine divisions for the men, including the pro division, while there are 2 divisions for the women. The pro division mainly consists of local professional surfers including world surf league competitor Conner Coffin who competes in the contest almost every year. The contest is open to the public and local residents receive priority registration based on their county . During the contest local restaurants provide lunch for the competitors and also sell food to the public. These restaurants include Nutbelly and Rincon Brewery.[6]
Geography and ecology[edit]
Rincon is located along U.S. Route 101 at Bates Road.[7] It is divided into three parts: the Cove, Rivermouth, and Indicator. The cove is the best part of the point and is the closest to the freeway. Rivermouth is the fastest section of the wave reaching from the mouth of Rincon Creek to the large white/stone house. Tube rides occur mainly at Rivermouth at low tide. Indicator is at the top of the point, visually obstructed from the freeway. While Rincon is most famous for its long right-breaking waves, Indicator also produces some extremely fast left-breaking waves during the summer, when southerly swells are most prevalent. During a larger westerly swell, all three sections often connect into one contiguous ridable wave.
Because of the quality of the wave, people travel from all over the world to surf there, sometimes resulting in extremely crowded surfing conditions. There have been occasional deaths at Rincon, mostly resulting from surfers getting caught at the bottom of the cove at higher tides during larger swells and getting thrown into the granite boulders which support the nearby freeway.
Environmentally, Rincon Creek has a tendency to flow higher levels of bacteria into the surf zone during heavy rains, resulting in occasional beach closures.
In 1769, the Spanish Portola expedition came west along the beach from the previous night's encampment at Pitas Point. The explorers found a large native village at a watering place near the mouth what is now called "Rincon Creek", and camped nearby on August 16. Fray Juan Crespi, a Franciscan missionary travelling with the expedition, noted that "As soon as we arrived all the people came to visit us, and brought us a great supply of roasted fish to eat"[8] The 1775 (second) expedition led by Juan Bautista de Anza camped at the same place, referring to the native village as "La Rinconada".[9]
In 1835, the area was included in a 4,460-acre (18.0 km2) land grant called Rancho El Rincon. The grant extended along the coast on both sides of the Santa Barbara/Ventura county line, and encompassed present-day Rincon Point, Rincon State Beach and La Conchita.
Juan Bautista de Anza National Historic Trail
^ Trnka, Holden (January 11, 2023). "Rincon, The Queen Of California's Coast, Is Currently In Shambles". Stab Mag. Retrieved January 14, 2023.
^ Meyers, Jeff (March 8, 1992). "Pell-Mell IN THE Swell Surfing Traffic at World-Renowned Rincon Has Increased at a Rate That Alarms Locals and Threatens to Desecrate Site's Mystique". Los Angeles Times.
^ Sumpter, Ron (2004). 100 Best Surf Spots in the World. Globe Pequot. pp. 50–51. ISBN 0-7627-2598-2.
^ Rincon Beach Park Count of Santa Barbara Accessed 23 November 2014
^ Rincon Classic official website Accessed 23 November 2014
^ "Rincon Classic | 2020 Rincon Classic, Santa Barbara, California". www.rinconclassic.com. Retrieved March 9, 2020.
^ U.S. Geological Survey Geographic Names Information System: Rincon Point
^ Bolton, Herbert E. (1927). Fray Juan Crespi: Missionary Explorer on the Pacific Coast, 1769-1774. HathiTrust Digital Library. p. 162. Retrieved April 9, 2014.
^ Bolton, Herbert E. (1930). Anza's California Expeditions, Volume IV. Internet Archive. p. 248. Retrieved April 9, 2014.
Coordinates: 34°22′41″N 119°28′55″W / 34.37806°N 119.48194°W / 34.37806; -119.48194
Retrieved from "https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Rincon_(surfspot)&oldid=1133597050"
Geography of Santa Barbara County, California
Geography of Ventura County, California
Surfing locations in California
Populated coastal places in California
Use mdy dates from January 2023

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


text:
require File.join(File.dirname(__FILE__), '..', 'spec_helper.rb')

describe  "/chefserverslice/" do

  before(:all) do
    mount_slice
  end

  describe "GET /" do

    before(:each) do
      @response = request("/chefserverslice/")
    end

    it "should be successful" do
      @response.status.should be_successful
    end

    # This is just an example of what you can do
    # You can also use the other webrat methods to click links,
    # fill up forms etc...
    it "should render the default slice layout" do
      @response.should have_tag(:title, :content => "Chef Server")
    end

  end

  after(:all) do
    dismount_slice
  end

end

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaGithub


Download free mp3 new name ringtone of Ajay Gupta please pickup the phone with song. Name ringtone with song in background of Ajay Gupta please pickup the phone text. Ajay Gupta please pickup the phone Indian Hindi name ringtones from FDMR.
This was Ajay Gupta please pickup the phone name ringtone with song.


When life hits hard, it is easy to take the mindset "I need to weather this storm". God offers more than just survival He assures us that the difficulties of life are working for us and not against us. God permits trials to come that we might use them for our good and His glory. A better word would be conqure. God is closer to us when we go through the difficulties of life. Not just to get through the struggle but to come out victorious.
The victory promised by Jesus comes without conditions attached. There is no "If you do this, God will do that." This has become a popular stance in Christianity. This security in Christ is an established fact, and we claim it for ourselves because we are in Christ. Nothing can separate you from His love. Believe it, rejoice in it, make that your firm foundation. You are more than an overcomer, you are a conqueror.
When the waves of life are beating me down and I feel like I am just trying to survive remind me of your promise. "We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies."Dear Father, you made us be more than conquerors. Use us for your glory and to advance your kingdom. In Jesus name. Amen.
Wuest, K. S. (1997). Wuest's word studies from the Greek New Testament: for the English reader(Vol. 2, p. 149). Grand Rapids: Eerdmans.
The Holy Bible: English Standard Version. (2016). (2 Co 4:8–10). Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles.
← Does Your Church Have a Vulture or a Hummingbird Culture?
Much needed word today. Thank you!
Thank you, brother. In two weeks the word you picked is coming up. Restoration.


Costa Rica is what other Central American countries strive to be. Costa Rica is the only country with such a large diversity of expat offerings from mountain living in places like Escazú and Lake Arenal to beach towns.
It ain't that much more expensive. I pay $300/mo all inclusive on a place to live with an average $800 budget.


text:
Olympic swim venue ready and now comes hard part: COVID-19
ByRichard Moran
October 24, 2020 — Tokyo opened its new Olympic swimming venue on Saturday, and Tokyo Governor Yuriko Koike pointed out that it was finished eight months ago, just weeks before the Tokyo Olympics were … Click to Continue »
By Richard Moran
Richard Moran loves to write about sports with the Golden State Online. Before that, he worked as a senior writer at ESPN. Richard grew up in San Diego and graduated from the University of San Diego in 2004, after which he worked as an editor for five years.


SCPa Works' partnership with Harrisburg University to create STEM Exploration Summer Camps has been a tremendous success. This week, First Lady Frances Wolf visited the camps to highlight the importance of tech skills, summer programs and providing more opportunities for young women get involved in STEM programs.
The Summer STEM Exploration Camps, supported by funding through SCPa Works, focused on various topics including computer science, coding, biotechnology and 3D modeling. Students built their own Raspberry Pi computers that they took home with them at the conclusion of the camp.
First Lady Wolf highlighted that "over the next ten year, over 70 percent of new jobs will require computer science skills," emphasizing the importance of programs and workforce development investments in the STEM field.
SCPa Works has placed a priority on investing in high-quality summer programs for at-risk and underrepresented student populations that teach skills in in-demand occupations. With Governor Wolf's investment in the PAsmart initiative, we are excited to work closely with the PA Workforce Development Board to continue to invest in and advance programs that build a pipeline for the Commonwealth's fastest growing jobs.


text:
Open to change and opportunity: pharmacy alumni support students
Some of the Leslie Dan Faculty of Pharmacy Class of 2T2 at their Whitecoat Ceremony
Doris Kalamut (BScP 1978) led her Class of 7T8 to raise a generous $48,150 for needs-based bursaries, an amount matched through the Boundless Promise program.
When Doris Kalamut graduated from University of Toronto's Leslie Dan Faculty of Pharmacy in 1978, she felt buoyed by possibility. "I felt accomplished and everything seemed to have fallen into place," she says. "Of course the program was challenging, but once you accomplish that goal, it's such an excitement."
Thirty-five years after convocating, Kalamut organized her fellow 7T8 graduates to establish the Class of 7T8 Award, with funds matched through the Boundless Promise program. Their gift provides a helping hand to the students of the future – a vital legacy that is just one of many ways these dynamic alumni have contributed to their profession.
A committed leader and volunteer
Doris Kalamut (BScP 1978), Pharmacy 7T8 class president
Doris Kalamut was valedictorian and 7T8 class president, showing her commitment to her peers and capacity for leadership early on. From convocation day onward, her career unfolded and expanded in ways she never imagined. She maintained a close connection with the Faculty and her classmates throughout the years and has organized nine class reunions. Kalamut practiced as a community pharmacist and returned to the Leslie Dan Faculty of Pharmacy in 1981 to teach part-time, then became a full-time faculty member in 2004. She retired in 2016 as the inaugural Director, Student Experience and Academic Progress.
Kalamut maintains her involvement at the Faculty as a course coordinator with the International Pharmacy Graduate program, volunteers with the Faculty's admission test and mentors pharmacy students. Kalamut is a peer reviewer with the Ontario College of Pharmacists, a presiding officer for the Pharmacy Examining Board of Canada and the Faculty of Pharmacy alumni representative on the University of Toronto College of Electors.
In 2017, Kalamut's exceptional volunteerism was recognized with an Arbor Award, the most prestigious volunteer award at U of T. Arbor Award recipients personify the very best attributes of the University's motto, Velut Arbor Aevo – "May it grow as a tree through the ages."
"We reflected how fortunate our career in pharmacy had been and were ready to give back as a class"
In 2013, the 7T8 graduates celebrated their 35-year reunion. Kalamut seized the opportunity to establish the Class of 7T8 Award, through the Boundless Promise program. "Almost everyone agreed with the idea and we received pledges immediately," she says. "We are a close knit community. We reflected how fortunate our career in pharmacy had been to us and were ready to give back as a class."
We've always felt that rather giving a 'handout', we are giving a 'hand up' to students
Building on this success, the ongoing generosity of the Class of 7T8 continues to raise funds for their award, recently hitting $48,150 to help pharmacy students in financial need. "Passionate champions like Doris are crucial to the success of class fundraising efforts," says Susan Drodge, Director of Advancement, Leslie Dan Faculty of Pharmacy. "It's so inspiring to see that 40 years after graduation, so many people are still deeply connected to the Leslie Dan Faculty of Pharmacy and are committed to supporting the next generation of students," she says.
Prior to launching the Class of 7T8 Award, Kalamut established the Doris C. Kalamut Leadership Award to advocate for student success by encouraging leadership skills and involvement in extracurricular activities. Both Kalamut and her husband Frank Kalamut (BSc 1974 UTM, DDS 1979), a graduate from U of T's Faculty of Dentistry, are committed to ongoing financial support to their respective faculties, as it allows students to focus on their academic and professional growth during the course of their degree. "We've always felt that rather giving a 'handout', we are giving a 'hand up' to students. We hope, by our example, recipients who have benefited from an award, will pay it forward to future students," she says.
A positive attitude overcomes challenges, for both students and professional pharmacists
The students are so talented that I have confidence they will succeed
In pharmacy practice circles, there is much discussion about the changing scope of the profession and how new technologies and a shifting health care environment are challenging traditional approaches. "Our profession experiences many changes. There are always benefits when challenges are overcome," Kalamut says. "As long as we work together as a 'Pharmacy Phamily' and keep an open mind we can achieve our goals. The students and recent graduates are so talented that I have confidence they will succeed."
Reflecting on her breadth of experience and what advice she would give to new pharmacists navigating these challenges, Kalamut doesn't hesitate. "Keep a positive attitude," she says. "It's not always easy to take a positive view, but we should remember that being a pharmacists isn't about us as professionals, it's about helping the patient, their health and well-being."
Boundless Promise awards are part of U of T's matching initiative for needs-based undergraduate awards. The threshold to establish the award is $25,000. The Class of 7T8 met this threshold and continue to raise money for the award to increase the annual impact they have on pharmacy students. Through the Boundless Promise program, the University will continue to match the annual income generated from the award on a 1:1 basis, in perpetuity.
By Kate Richards
Patient's family invests in physician's data-driven "living laboratory" at U of T
University of Toronto mourns death of Chancellor Emeritus Michael Wilson
New Labatt Family Network provides hope for understanding the biology of depression


The Secretaría of Culture, in partnership with the Bureau of Medellin and the participation of several cultural entities, will position Medellin as a City of Artists. The city will have a permanent cultural and artistic agenda.
There are 7 spaces in the city that have been destined to make art a permanent expression, we invite you to enjoy the dance, theater, exhibitions and a lot of talent.


text:
Fantasy News, v. 3, issue 1, whole no. 53, June 25, 1939
31858063100923_012
PAGE (10) FIRST ANNIVERSARY ISSUE FANTASY-NEWS meteor shower, and so return, except the astronomer is dead - Two scenes from this film appear in the APRIL 1934, issue of WONDER STORIES GOLD - UFA Film - 1935 with Brigette Helm (of Metropolis) Han Albers, Michael Bohnen - The film deals with the discovery of change lead into gold. A Professor Achenbach and his assistants, amidst giant electrical apparatus, find a way to change the atoms, and turn into gold. But one of his assistants is bribed and at the next experiment, Achenbach & an assistant are killed, when the machines explode. Holk who survives, is offered a position in John Wills laboratory, where he finds that Wills has stolen Achenbach's secret. Holk works with Wills, but at the same time is planning revenge. He does this by tampering with the giant electrical machines, which a few minutes later explodes, trapping the greedy Wills. THE ETERNAL MASK - Adapted by Leo Lepaire from his novel of the same name Made in Berne, Switzerland - 1937. With Mathias Wieman, who is Dr. Dumartin, and Tom [Kras?], Olga Tschechowa, Thekla Ahrens - This is a very interesting and dramatic fantasy film, resembling somewhat THE CABINET OF DR. CALIGARI, made in 1919 by UFA. Telling the story of Dr. Dumartin, a victim of schizophrenia, split personality, who believing he has killed a man, wanders in fantastic underground labyrinths looking for "Dr. Dumartin". After many such trips to the dream world of his crazy mind, he finally comes back to normal. The music for the picture, was very carefully selected, one of the themes being Liszt "Todtentanz". (Dane of Death) DOCTOR X - Warner Bros - filmed about 1932. With Lionel Atwill, Fay Wray, Lee Tracy. In technicolor. Cannot recall very much about this film except that a scientist discovers how to make a synthetic flesh and tries to form a hand of it since he's lost one of his hands. This was one of the best scienti-film ever produced. BY ROCKET TO THE MOON - UFA Film 1929 - Also known as THE GIRL IN THE MOON. Directed by Fritz Lang, from the book by Thea von Harvou. Prof Manfeldt has devoted his life in studying the moon, and in his book, "Gold Mountains of the Moon" states that if man reaches the moon, he will find tons of gold. If this is true, it will ruin the I.F. Syndicate. Helius, an inventor, builds a rocket ship, and with friends leave for the satellite, traveling at about 25000 m.p.h. When they land on a crater, they find there is atmosphere, and also find the predicted gold, in giant nuggets. Turner, the villain is found out and is killed. All leave the moon, except Wolf and Friede. ---- CALL by Dale Hart Comes a clarion call for me Out of the depths of Lea. "We ask this only boon." "I return to Lea soon." Then I ridded Lea of them, Those that Lea couldn't stem; Drove them out of the gate, Sent them to a just fate. ---- READ FANTASY-NEWS EVERY WEEK
Hevelin Fanzines


This course will teach experienced PL/SQL application developers advanced methods to integrate IFS with other applications at the database level using Oracle objects, IFS message tables and IFS API sets. Any IFS developer on your staff responsible for developing integrations with your IFS system would benefit from this class. Through hands-on instruction, learn to develop stored procedures, functions and packages to manage IFS objects.


text:
Changes in NMIA bid conditions said spurring investor interest
Published:Tuesday | March 7, 2017 | 12:00 AMNeville Graham
Denise Gallimore, manager of public private participation and privatison at Development Bank of Jamaica, sepaks at the DBJ Infrastructure Conference.
Denise Gallimore, manager for public-private participation and privatisation at the Development Bank of Jamaica (DBJ), is crediting changes in the project structure for the renewed and heightened interest in the proposed divestment of the Norman Manley International Airport, (NMIA).
Gallimore also said previous prequalified bidders from the first privatisation effort two years ago are lining up alongside other prospective investors to participate in the eventual tender.
The NMIA concession, she insists, is a good deal that has been made better.
"Having the previous pre-qualified bidders remain in the process along with others indicates that the asset at its core is good. Just the fundamentals, once tweaked, will make it more attractive," Gallimore told Gleaner Business on the sidelines of the DBJ Infrastructure Conference that wrapped up Tuesday in Kingston.
The 2015 move to negotiate a long-term concession agreement hit a snag, with none of the pre-qualified bidders following through with an offer.
State-owned DBJ, which is handling the divestment, said the Government "reviewed all aspects of the transaction and gathered market feedback to determine the most competitive project structure".
According to Gallimore, the main changes include: a longer concession term, a capital investment programme in line with safety and level of service requirements, and a reduction in the upfront concession fee.
Back in 2015, five investors were prequalified to bid for the airport. Reports then indicated that the winning bidder would be required to invest around US$134 million in expansion works, including the runway extension.
The current plan calls for around US$110 million of capital investment, including the runway. Under the new programme, the runway is projected to cost US$51 million, down from US$76 million.
The first divestment effort tried to sell a 25-year concession with the possibility of a five-year extension. The present arrangement extends that period and, according to Gallimore, makes a better business case.
"What the Government decided is that in this round, we will just make the concession 30 years. This will allow investors to have more time to get returns on their business deals," she said.
On the subject of the capital works and capital programme that the selected concessionaire will be required to undertake, Gallimore said the first privatisation effort required a 500-metre extension of the existing runway. She says 500 metres was considered the strategic length of the extension to make the airport competitive in accommodating larger aircraft. But that has now changed.
The current requirement is more in line with international safety requirements, rather than just strategic requirements. The runway currently spans 2,716 metres, or 8,910 feet.
"As it stands now, 300 metres is considered the minimum for safety reasons and the concession agreement will require the concessionaire to make those other extensions as is required by international standards," Gallimore said, adding that the concessionaire can choose to extend the runway further if it suits them.
"The 300 metres is a strategic minimum. The concessionaire may choose to make further extensions based on the strategic alliances that they can form to bring in these larger aircraft," Gallimore said.
The concession fee has been reduced from US$20 million to US$5 million.
Gallimore said the previous requirement was just a way of ensuring "skin in the game", but that it proved to be a bugbear. She said the reduced fee will affect the final agreement with the concessionaire.
"The concession model is a quid pro quo so if you are taking US$20 million up front, then you are looking for a smaller share of revenue over the lifetime of the project. If you take US$5 million, then you are looking at an increased share of revenue over the lifetime of the project," she said.
On Monday, the first day of the conference, IFC investment officer Darryl Davis also told Gleaner Business there was heightened interest in NMIA.
A new request for qualifications, or RFQ, was issued last month.
"We've seen good interest in that there have been, so far, 100 pull-downs of the RFQ information," Davis said.
Indications are, according to our sources, that an Argentinian group called Cedicor has once again stepped forward; Jamaican conglomerate Jamaica Producers is working with a group of investors out of Punta Cana in the Dominican Republic; a Korean group is joining forces with GK Capital; A-Port, a South American group that is a subsidiary of Zurich International, is looking to get back to the table, and China Harbour Engineering Company is said to be working through an outfit called W Airports to make a bid.
«Disconnect between stock market and economy, OECD warns
SVL plots the way forward for Caymanas Park»