A Nerd and His Process, Pt. 2

In the last installment, I left you hanging at the beatsheet. (Didn't read the previous installment? Go! Go now! We'll wait for you.) A beatsheet is basically an outline, detailing the major story "beats" in an issue.

Some writers whip out something quick and dirty; others (I've heard) go nuts with detail. I land somewhere between the two extremes. To me, the point is to show your editor what you have in mind, and what will happen on each page. Broad strokes, but with some level of detail that will reassure the editor that, yes, you have thought about this at some length, and you're not just pulling it out of your ass a few minutes before deadline.

I usually break it down into scenes, starting with how many pages I think it'll take. For instance (from my beatsheet for Immortal Iron Fist #19):

[3 pages]

New York City. Now.

Danny suits up into his Iron Fist gear and speeds across the city, leaping over rooftops, through buildings—all of that cool shit.

Danny and Cage meet outside the school. Danny looks down at his fist, which is flickering out. “He’s here.”

And then—

Out of the shadows, dozens of screaming children attack. Danny’s own students. But they’re mesmerized, just like the West Texas townsfolk were mesmerized, and the San Francisco strikers were mesmerized.

It's just a rough idea of what'll happen on those pages. If you've read Iron Fist #19, you'll see that these pages play out differently. That's because when I reached the scripting stage (and revision stage), I let the story open up, and tried to listen to my characters, instead of forcing them into my little beats. But again, at this stage, it's still broad-strokesville.

I'll throw in a little dialogue, just to give my editor a little variety. Dialogue is easy to read; I used to be an editor, and know what it's like to slog through graph after graph of narrative.

My beatsheets tend to be 1,000 words or so, sometimes a little longer. (I just checked the most recent beatsheet I turned in, for Punisher: Frank Castle #69: it was 1,025 words.)

The page counts are my best guesstimate. Sometimes, in the heat of scripting, I'll want to open up an action scene so the artist can go crazy. But again, all the page count does is tell your editor that yeah, you thought about pacing, and here's how you see it playing out.

Interestingly, I don't outline (or beatsheet) my novels. With The Wheelman and Severance Package especially, I was just winging it. Outlining tends to kill the fun for me.

But in comics, I find it essential. (And other comic creators I've met over the past year say the same thing.) I once tried to wing a script without doing a beatsheet, and it was like baking a cake without flour: the thing just fell apart in my hands. Even if I end up changing a lot of what appears in the beatsheet, I still have to go through the process.

Imagine there's a hunk of clay in front of you. You work it until the thing vaguely resembles a human being. Yep, there's the head, the torso, the arms and legs. Got it all in front of you, right? But now it's time for the fine details, to really make this thing look real--the shape of the eyes, the thickness of the fingers, the muscles of the legs. The things that will make people stop and enjoy your work.

Well, consider the beatsheet to be the vague human shape. The next part, of course, is the scriptwriting, which we'll hit in the next installment. Check back soon...

A Nerd and His Process, Pt. 1

Yesterday I asked if readers would be interested in seeing regular posts with "DVD extra-style" commentary/annotation for the comics I write. I was very surprised by the reaction. (I would have been happy with a single "meh, whatever, loser.") So look for my first, on Immortal Iron Fist #19, in a few days.

But I thought it would be smart to kick things off by answering a question that "Marty" posted in the comments yesterday:

Please also--if possible--talk a little about what it takes to plan out and write a comic.

You got it, Marty. (Feel free to stop reading if I start putting you all to sleep.) But let start with a caveat: this just one guy's process, not The Process. I'm still very new at this comic scripting thing. I've been doing it for about a year and a half now, and if my math is right, I've just started working on my 30th script. So yeah... still kind of green.

But this is what works for me, and if makes any sense to you guys, all the better.

Every issue starts with a pitch. If I'm invited to pitch a one-shot issue, I'll usually give the editor three or four ideas, no more than a paragraph each. For example, here the pitch I sent Axel Alonso for a Punisher Max one-shot. It would eventually be published as "Force of Nature," but at the time (March 2007) I was calling it "Wrecked":

The Punisher: Wrecked
Three Jersey wiseguys decide to go casting for bluefish off Wildwood Crest. A few miles out, both engines sputter… and stop. Their communication gear is fucked, too. They immediately know what happened: the goddamned Punisher. Water fills the boat. They set up a life raft. A storm front moves in. We spent the next 30 pages with these poor bastards, fighting for survival on the open water, accusing each other of selling them out to Frank Castle, unearthing some long-buried grudges, watching them die… until we hit a twist ending not even the Punisher could have called.

I tried to set up the story as quickly as possible ending with a little tease that, if it did its job, would have Axel calling to ask: "So... what's the twist ending?" (Note: at the time of the pitch, I didn't have one. But I made sure I did by the time Axel called.)

If it's a story arc, I'll do a much longer synopsis, maybe two to three pages, detailing the major plot points, giving a feel for the characters and what they're up against. But since I live in Philadelphia, just a quick train ride away from NYC, I try to visit the Marvel office to pitch to Axel or Warren Simons (my Iron Fist editor) in person. Not to sell them hard on the thing, or ply them with booze (though that helps), but to let the idea breathe a bit, and give us the opportunity to kick the tires. Sometimes a stray thought from Axel or Warren will take root in my mind, then blossom on the train ride home. Sometimes they'll point out the serious logic flaws, saving me a lot of future grief. And sometimes... just sometimes... I'll nail it in one line, and see their eyes light up, and boom, that's all the encouragement I need. That happened most recently with an upcoming Iron Fist story arc:

Me: "You know the Eighth City? Well, it's actually [REDACTED]."

Warren: "Dude! Go write it."

This step in the process can be that quick... or it can take several weeks of back and forth and fine-tuning and rethinking and all of that fun stuff. When it's finally approved, it comes time for the second major step: the beatsheet.

And more about that in part 2, coming soon...

New Swierczy Comics, and a Question

Just a little reminder that Immortal Iron Fist #19 is available today in comic book stores everywhere. It's the third part (of four) detailing Danny Rand's brutal struggle against the creepy dude with the monster in his throat. If you've been craving a little Fat Cobra in your diet, you might want to check this one out.

Also out today: a reprint of Wolverine Annual #2, in case you missed it the first time. It also makes an excellent Halloween present.

And now for that question: I was kicking around the idea of doing posts where I'd annotate my comics a little. No spoilers, just some DVD extra-type material, explaining why I made a particular choice, sharing a bit of trivia, revealing what #$%@! really stands for, etc. Any interest? I know I'd want to read something like this... but then again, I have strange ideas about things.

Let me know in the comments below, okay?

Opening Shots: "My Lips Destroy"

May Twentieth... I met her last night. I met her last night, and I'm marrying her tomorrow.

"My Lips Destroy"
by Cornell Woolrich
From the collection Beyond the Night
(Avon, 1959)

What I love about this one is its simple components. Little more than a dateline and two short sentences—one of them repeated, even. And it's impossible to stop reading.

A Look Inside the Castle

Newsarama today features four pages from the forthcoming Punisher: Frank Castle #66, which is the first issue in my "Six Hours to Kill" arc. The art is by the mad Canadian genius Michel Lacombe, who you may remember from my Punisher one-shot, "Force of Nature." Check it out!

Your January '09 Nerdery Preview

Somehow, I have four comics... yes, four... appearing in January 2009, and the preview blurbs were just released.

The first two are my usual monthy titles. One's the conclusion of a story arc, the other, the beginning of a new story arc:

CABLE #10
Written by DUANE SWIERCZYNSKI
Pencils & Cover by ARIEL OLIVETTI
“WAITING FOR THE END OF THE WORLD,”CONCLUSION
In the present, Cyclops, Emma and Beast have been ambushed by Bishop and a nasty little surprise he’s smuggled into the X-Men HQ. Meanwhile, hundreds of years in the future, Cable realizes what the former X-Man has done to the planet -- all in an effort to make sure Cable and the four-year-old mutant messiah never, ever return to the present. Once again, the rules of the hunt have been completely rewritten, and the future of mutantkind has never looked more uncertain.
32 PGS./Rated T+ …$2.99

IMMORTAL IRON FIST #22
Written by DUANE SWIERCZYNSKi
Penciled by TRAVEL FOREMAN
Cover by PATRICK ZIRCHER
Iron Fist and the Immortal Weapons kick off another dimension-spanning adventure! Think you know everything there is to know about the Seven Capital Cities of Heaven? Well, maybe you do. But a couple of arcs ago we did tease there being an EIGHTH city...oh that’s right...Duane Swierczynski and Travel Foreman are taking it there!
32 PGS./Rated T+ ...$2.99

And the new titles are the first issues of two mini-series... both long in the making, and both under the MAX imprint:

PUNISHER: FRANK CASTLE #66
Written by DUANE SWIERCZYNSKI
Penciled by MICHEL LACOMBE
Cover by DAVE JOHNSON
“SIX HOURS TO KILL," PART 1
The Punisher always knew he’d die on the job. But he didn’t know he’d have an expiration date. After busting up a slave ring in downtown Philadelphia, Frank Castle has been tricked, trapped, gassed, strapped to a table and injected with a serum that will turn him into a 220-pound corpse by dawn -- six hours from now. The people who grabbed him want him to do a simple little job and then they’ll give him the antidote -- simple, right? Guess again. The Punisher is nobody’s errand boy. There’s only one thing he wants to do before he dies: Take as many bastards as he can with him.
32 PGS./Explicit Content ...$3.99

DEAD OF NIGHT FEATURING WEREWOLF BY NIGHT #1 (of 4)
Written by DUANE SWIERCZYNSKI
Pencils and Cover by MICO SUAYAN
For 28 days of the month, Jack Russell leads a normal life. He’s got a beautiful wife and a baby on the way. He’s the picture of happiness. On day 29, however, he turns into an uncontrollable, bloodthirsty monster. But as the saying goes, the best-laid plans of wolves and men...
32 PGS./Cardstock Cover/Parental Advisory ...$3.99

The Punisher series you already know about; I'm one of three crime novelists tackling Frank Castle in the wake of Garth Ennis. Right now Gregg Hurwitz is kicking ass with the title, and after my five issue run (#66-70), Victor Gischler will be donning the black t-shirt with the white skull. My story's called "Six Hours to Kill," and it's set on the mean streets of Philadelphia.

Werewolf By Night, however, is the "secret horror project with Warren Simons" that's had me almost severing my tongue for over a year now as I struggled to keep my mouth shut. This was (I think) the very first character I pitched when Warren approached me to write for Marvel. It's appropriate, because Werewolf By Night (a.k.a. Jack Russell) was the first Marvel character I ever met, in the form of a book-and-record set (at left) I received one Christmas. It scared the living fuck out of me, and probably kick-started my love of horror. One image, in particular, never left my brain: that of the werewolf, leaping over a fence, as a bullet shred his furry bicep. It was the real world smacking into the horror world, and it was the launchig pad for this new story.

I'll blog more about it when we're closer to the pub date, but it's finally nice to be able to talk about it.

Paperbacked

Yesterday, Philly Poe Guy and I made our second annual trip to Gary Lovisi's NYC Vintage Paperback & Collectable Book Expo to get our hardcore book nerdin' on. (For the record: Sunday morning is the best time to drive from Philly to NYC. It takes something like 90 minutes, from turnpike to tunnel. The rest of the week? Take the train.) We shopped for about an hour and a half, and I walked away with...

The Philadelphia Murder Story (Leslie Ford). Hands down, the find of the day. Only $1, with a cool Philly map on the back! (I bought nine others on this list for a buck each, too.) BTW, if you click on the map above, I used to live near #6: the Warwick Hotel.

The Pitfall (Jay J. Dratler) Just read about this one in Kevin Johnson's The Dark Page. Looks cool. Never heard of Dratler before.

Winter Kill and Giveaway (Steve Fisher). I've been looking for more Fisher after enjoying the Hard Case reprint of No House Limit. He was buddies with Cornell Woolrich, back in the day.

The Name of the Game Is Death (Dan J. Marlowe). I own the Black Lizard edition; this is the original Gold Medal edition, which is allegedly different. We'll see...

One Endless Hour (Marlowe). I have a later Gold Medal edition, but this is an earlier one, with cooler cover art. Me: sucker for cover art.

Shake Him Till He Rattles (Malcom Braly). Ed Gorman recommends Braly. Ed speaks, I listen.

The Lurking Man (Gerald Butler). I loved Butler's Kiss the Blood off My Hands. This was originally published under the title Mad With Much Heart. And no, this is not the dude who starred in 300.

The Hoodlum, a.k.a. Kiss of Death (Eleazar Lipsky). Picked this up because of the film noir connection, but also because it's a Lion paperback, and my collection has far to few Lions.

The Case of the Violent Virgin/The Case of the Bouncing Betty (Michael Avallone). An Ace Double Novel from the "Fastest Typewriter in the East." I've hawked books from Avallone's old desk at Port Richmond Books.

Stop This Man! (Peter Rabe). Early Rabe. Ridiculous yet awesome title. ("Wait, which man? Ohhhh... this man.")

Lady in Peril/Wired for Scandal (Lester Dent/Floyd Wallace). Another Ace Double. Dent wrote the Doc Savage novels, and far too few hardboiled stories under his own name.

I Should Have Stayed Home (Horace McCoy). Passed up this paperback last year, regretted it. Found it again this year.

The Bedroom Bolero (Avallone). More Avallone. Way sleazy-looking.

Creeps by Night (edited by Dashiell Hammett). A collection of horror stories introduced by Hammett, who probably cranked out his essay in 10 minutes between gin gimlets. But still... it's Hammett.

Bring Him Back Dead/There Was a Crooked Man (Day Keene). Al "Sunshine" Guthrie's favorite paperback writer. And it's a rare Lancer Books "2 for 1" edition, which was probably Lancer trying to eat Avon's lunch and gagging.

The Scarf and Terror (Robert Bloch). Joe Lansdale's favorite paperback suspense writer. I've been looking for the former for a while; never heard of the latter. I wonder if it was reprinted under a different title.

Duel and Other Horror Stories of the Road (edited by William Pattrick). Impulse buy, with contributions from Richard Matheson, Stephen King, Roald Dahl, Jack Finney, and... Sir Arthur Conan Doyle? A road story? Really?

Do Not Murder Before Christmas (Jack Iams). Me: sucker for holiday mystery novels. And you know what? I read half of this last night, and it's flat-out fantastic. The action is set in an unnamed city, but I swear it reads an awful lot like Philadelphia. I did some internet digging this morning (when I should have been writing) and learned that Iams was a lifelong journalist, and his son, David Iams, was the longtime Philadelphia Inquirer society columnist. Need to do more research on this. We might have another forgotten Philly mystery writer on our hands... stay tuned.

Chicago Confidential (Jack Lait and Lee Mortimer). I have the New York and Washington D.C. editions of this non-fiction series; now the trinity is compelte!

Murder on Delivery (Spencer Dean). I read about this series somewhere. Can't remember where. Picked it up anyway. It was a buck!

Obit Delayed (Helen Nielsen). Nielsen's great. I have some of her Black Lizard reprints.

Scratch a Thief/My Pal, the Killer (John Trinian/Chester Warwick). The second title is flat-out awesome.

The Mourner (Richard Stark). Own it... but not in this Pocket edition!

Color Him Dead (Charles Runyon). Went through a Runyon kick a year ago; this is one I haven't read.

Shoot the Works, What Really Happened, Murder by Proxy, The Uncomplaining Corpses (Brett Halliday). I'll never pass up a Mike Shayne for a buck a piece.

I also picked up some Gryphon Books (Lovisi's own publishing house):

Paperback Parade #69
Paperback Parade #70
Antique Trader Collectible Paperback Price Guide (by Gary Lovisi)
Hardboiled #38
If You Have Tears, by Howard Browne

Anybody out there read any of the above? Anybody know more about Jack Iams?

Opening Shots: Giveaway

"I admit I have this habit of noticing dames."

Giveaway
by Steve Fisher
(Bantam, October 1955)

Fisher is the author of the classic I Wake Up Screaming, and the recent Hard Case Crime reprint, No House Limit. Book cover scan from the excellent BookScans Database.

The Long Set-Up

One thing I didn't buy at B'Con, but very much wanted to: a fine first edition of Joseph Moncure March's hardboiled boxing poem, The Set-Up (which was turned into a 1949 film noir starring Robert Ryan and Audrey Totter). It was the original 1928 Covici hardcover, complete with ultra-rare dust jacket. Alas, at $1250, I would have returned home to Philadelphia a divorced man.

So I did the next best thing: found a beat-up used copy, third printing, at Amazon.com. No dustjacket, but then again, it was only $25 (about a fiftieth of the price). It arrived yesterday, and inside were two details that made it so much cooler than the $1250 edition.

First: the book was clearly a gift, because inside it was inscribed:

To Hal, my friend
Xmas '28

Frank

Second: there was a little stamp on the inside back cover, indicating that Frank bought this copy at the Hollywood Book Store (see above). I know exactly where this store used to be. The Hollywood Hotel was on the northwest corner of Hollywood and Highland*, now a huge entertainment/shopping/tourist complex. Across the street (according to the stamp) is a collection of tourist shop, just down the block from the El Capitan movie theater.

So back in 1928, some guy named Frank wandered into this shop in the heart of Hollywood and picked up The Set-Up for his friend Hal. God knows what happened to Hal. But his copy somehow ended up in a used bookstore, and offered for online sale. Now it's going to be in my collection until I die, and maybe someday somebody else will pick it up, and wonder about Hal and Frank.

I love stuff like this.

(* In last month's Immortal Iron Fist: Orson Randall and the Death Queen of California, much of the early action takes right around Hollywood and Highland... in 1928.)

Secret Dead Blog Recommends...

... Kevin Johnson's The Dark Page, which I picked up at B'Con last week. It's an oversized, gorgeous survey of classic mystery and crime novels (and otherwise) that were adapted into 1940s noir films. With each entry comes a full page, full color photo of the first edition of these novels. I've been savoring this book for over a week now. It's like porn for noir/pulpheads. And while the price is a bit dear ($95), especially in these lean times (hey! just like the 1940s!), I ask you: How much blood or plasma do you really need, anyway?

... Tom Piccirilli's brand-spankin' new blog, The Cold Spot. Bookmark it. Savor it. Pic's the man.

... Hulu.com for making David Cronenberg's Naked Lunch available online for free. I saw this fucked-up freakfest back in my college days, and watching it again last week (when I should have been writing) was a blast.

... the Iliad Bookshop in lovely downtown Burbank, California. I've been meaning to mention this shop ever since visiting it a few weeks ago. At the time, I was bookless in Universal City., having whipped through Stephen Hunter's Night of Thunder in record time. I was also carless, so I couldn't drive out to either the Mystery Bookstore or Books to Die For for reinforcements. But a quick Google search brought up the Iliad, and my God was the $7 cab ride to the joint worth it. Rows and rows and rows of crime, horror and sci-fi paperbacks. I ended up buying more than the TSA would allow me for the return flight, so I ended up having an entire box shipped home. If you are anywhere near the Iliad, report to it immediately. But leave the collection of vintage paperbacks alone. I want first dibs next time I'm back in L.A.

... Stephen Hunter's recent Washington Post piece about this weekend's Noir City D.C. film festival is worth reading just for his definition of film noir alone ("the sensation of the fly, the wonder at the spider"). And to bring things full circle: Hunter name-checks Johnson's The Dark Page.

Secret Dead Blog also recommends Milky Way Midnight, scotch on the rocks, Kitty Foyle, peanut butter, Quaker Grits with extra sugar, V8 and the musical stylings of Rocky Burnette, though not necessarily in that order.

"When I Finally Caught Up with Kermit the Frog, He Was Drinking Beer with an Alcoholic Felt Dog Named Rowlf..."

Over at Popcorn Junkies, Travis Leamons reports on an upcoming Muppet movie called The Happytime Murders. As the title might half-imply, this is not meant for kids. It's a genuine murder mystery, with booze and dead (felt) bodies and everything, set in a Roger Rabbit-ish world where humans and Muppets co-exist. Here's hoping it works. I've been dying to pitch my idea for A Muppet Dante's Inferno for years.

Reliable Sources Claim: BOW-cher-CAHN

This is a few days late... but Bouchercon was a lot of fun. Baltimore itself (shown above in a photograph I took last Friday) kind of reminds me of Philly, but with hills and much better crabcakes.

Poe Boy and I picked up Scott Phillips and made it down to B'Mo in record time. We didn't stay at the main B'Con hotel, but rather the overflow hotel next door--which turned out to be the former Lord Baltimore Hotel, a gorgeous vertical slab of 1920s swank.

As usual, B'Con is an insane swirl of people. People you've known for years. People you want to meet. People who want to meet you. People you've only met online. People you meet, and want to meet again. People you forgot you wanted to meet. People who meet by chance. All kinds of people.

Which means that it's really difficult to make your way to a panel down the hall without stopping and having a half-dozen conversations. This is not a bad thing; these are conversations with smart, cool, funny people. But it is an exhausting thing. After the first few hours, I really needed to go back to the room and just sit on my bed, stare at the weird gashes in the ceiling (no kidding, there were gashes in the ceiling, kind of like a rabid animal wanted to get up to the ninth floor in a hurry) and say absolutely nothing.

This is either evidence that I'm still the shy kid I was in grade school, or that I've been working freelance from my basement too long.

Some highlights:

* At a dinner for the DHS Galaxy of Stars (i.e., the clients of uber-stud agent David Hale Smith), a woman at the next table was convinced that I was someone famous. When I stepped outside to make a phone call, she even asked DHS if I was someone famous. I can only assume he laughed, and assured her that no, I was not someone famous. When I returned, DHS told me what I had happened, and I turned to look at the woman. The spell was broken; she told me I no longer looked like someone famous. Only my profile looked somewhat famous.

* I made Victor Gischler my last-minute plus one at the St. Martin's Minotaur cocktail party. I filled out my name tag with my real name; Gischler filled out his name tag with the word "Asshole." And he wore it the whole time. Gischler's my hero.

* During a lull in the St. Martin's party, I looked over to see DHS giving me the finger. I responded by grabbing my crotch. We have an awesome agent/client relationship.

* I would not bother with Fort Knox or some cash depository in the southwest. If I were to ever pull an 11-man group heist, I'd knock over Geppi's Entertainment Museum, which is packed with things that would look great on my office walls.

But the biggest highlight of all was meeting a lot of people who have enjoyed my books and comics or read this blog, and took the time to tell me. That means more to me than you may realize.

Even more than Gischler with "asshole" pasted to his shirt.

Opening Shots: Citizen Vince

One day you know more dead people than live ones.

Citizen Vince
by Jess Walter
(Regan Books, 2005)

This is one of those novels I want to re-read every year, just to revel in the voice. Highly recommended.

Boocher? Bowcher? I Still Have No Idea

Tomorrow I'm headed to Bouchercon XXXIX, the annual mystery fiction convention that can be pronounced at least two different ways. This year the festivities (and by festivities I mean drinking) take place in Baltimore, conveniently located just two hours south of Philly. I'll be carpooling down with my good friend Ed "Poe Boy" Pettit, who has the entire city of Balitmore gunning for his bearded head. Joining us will be one of my favorite writers, Scott "Ice Harvest" Phillips, who for some reason hit the East Coast a day early to spend time in Philadelphia.

I'll be on a panel at 10 a.m. Friday called "Watching the Detectives" along with Sean Chercover, Bill Cameron, Libby Fischer Hellmann and Harry Hunsicker. Then in the afternoon, I'll be at Geppi's Museum with a bunch of other comic book folk, including Greg Rucka, Gary Phillips, Brian Azzarello, Jill Thompson, Victor Gischler and Max Allan Collins. Stop by if you're free (and in Baltimore).

And if not? Well, check the Twitter feed on the lefthand column. I'll be updating whenever possible. Especially if Ed's cornered and getting the crap beat out of him by an angry mob of Balitmore literary historians.

Opening Shots: The First Quarry

The night after Christmas and all through the house, it was colder than fuck.

The First Quarry
by Max Allan Collins
(Hard Case Crime, 2008)


A tip of the hat to Adam Siegel for recommending this one. Got an "Opening Shot" you want to share? Hit me!