The home stretch, if the race is close, means the jockeys are pulling out all the stops to get every last bit of speed from mounts that are just about spent. The whips are flying, horses are foaming, there's likely mud everywhere. So when I say I'm in the home stretch of finishing the first Harry Moon graphic novel, I don't mean I'm happily drifting toward a blissful light at the end of the tunnel. I mean I'm flogging myself, proverbial foam lathering my productivity, and there's almost as much chance of me blowing a tendon as there is of me finishing the race with flying colors.
|Because my monitor is a beast, you may not fully appreciate the sheer size of that stack of drawings. It reminds me of the number of drawings it took to make animation, back in the day.|
But this is nothing new for me. If there's anything consistent about my all-over-the-place life, it's biting off more than any sensible person would think of chewing. Somewhere beneath my self-loathing exterior, there must be some kind of egomaniac. It's probably something I should let a qualified specialist unpackage someday. But not now! No time for mental health.
But anyway, as I round the final turn into the home stretch, it's exciting to see the huge stack of drawings (I've had to crank out at 3x the speed of the typical industry artist) come together into a product that will soon go to market. The turnaround into the next book will be almost immediate, so I better find a good filing system for the 400+ drawings this book has produced.
But like any good race, the finish is exhilarating, lest I sound as though I'm complaining. Far from it--life is in the shape now that I believe best fits me, as precarious and insane as it may look to the "normals" I know. There's nothing better than spending your days doing what you do best and making a living doing it! May this first race truly qualify me for a season of even more exciting races to come.