Thursday, March 31, 2011


I’ll admit it. I’m addicted to YouTube.

A couple of weeks ago, I heard a song from the ‘80s that was stuck in my head, so on a whim I looked it up on YouTube. Now, I spend inordinate amounts of time looking up artists and watching/listening to the videos. I’ll find a video, watch it, notice a link to another video, click on that, and suddenly realize I’ve been watching videos for an hour and a half and I’m on fire.

Right now, I’m listening to ‘Space Age Love Song’ by Flock of Seagulls. I remember when the song first came out (sigh, old) and for reasons too complicated to explain, was reminded of it. So, of course, I looked it up and can now re-experience my youth, where I sat for hours watching MTV whenever my parents would let me.

And for my younger readers, yes, MTV used to play music videos.

It’s kinda fun and nostalgic. I’m not so much of a snob to insist that it was all ‘real music,’ but some of it was pretty good. And yes, some of it was really, really bad.

NOTE: The first video I ever saw was the Steve Miller Band’s Abracadabra. I had no idea what it was, but was completely mesmerized. Yes, I just watched it.

In other news, it’s been yet another productive week here at Single Edge Studios. Pages were penciled. Sentences were written. Ninjas were fought. Dog poop was stepped in. Those last two aren’t related, but I thought I’d share.

Have a fun and safe weekend.


Wednesday, March 30, 2011


Now, it may come as a shock to my regular readers, but I do have my share of problems.

Oh, on the outside, my life looks pretty much perfect.

I’m a single, -something, who is a tiny bit internet famous, has an entry on IMDB (which is completely true), writes blogs, comics, games, and novels, drives a ’93 Toyota truck, and possesses the sheer animal magnetism (and back hair) of a Kodiak bear, but that’s just the shiny parts.

In reality, my life is as complicated and stressful as the next guy’s. I never quite have enough money, ninjas keep booby-trapping my toilet, I accidently dismantled my washing machine with a hammer. You know, all the little things that vex us in life.

It’s just that I’m tired of my problems. Sure, fighting hyper-intelligent bathtub mold with a crowbar is fun, but once you’ve done it eight or nine times, it gets kinda old.

What I want. What I really, really want, is to have someone else’s problems. Preferably someone who’s incredibly, wonderfully, amazingly rich.

I’m talking the kind of rich where I could drive up to a McDonald’s drive through, buy the entire restaurant, then go across the street and buy the Burger King as well. And then order the employees to fight to the death. The winning side gets to make me a burger. And then fight the Taco Bell crew.

I want to play an RTS with real tanks. I want to have two jumbo jets full of confetti and marshmallow peeps smash into each other at 50,000 feet, just to see what it looks like. I want a trebuchet made out of chocolate. Just ‘cause.

So, if you’re stupidly rich and would like to help me out by giving me access to your fortune for a couple months, please give me a call. I will totally give whatever’s left back to you when I’m done.

I promise.


Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Good News, Everyone!

Forum registration is now functional again. I know this because I had three registrations in my inbox today, two of which were bots or spammers (or spambots). Oh, how I had missed the subtle dance of checking anti-bot sites, Googling names, and otherwise figuring out if a registration was real or not.

I am, in fact, being sarcastic. If you’re a real-human being who would like to contribute to our forums, please, register and I will happily let you in. If you’re a spammer, please smash your head into your monitor repeatedly. I’ll wait.

But, strangely enough, today’s blog is not about spammers or registration. It’s about ghosts.

I have complained before about the plethora of ghost hunter shows on cable now (and how I should have my own show, Ghost Fighter). Things, however, have sunk to a new low. There is now a ghost-show on Animal Planet.

I actually watched a couple, as I was curious how they’d incorporate the whole ‘animal’ angle into the show. Would there be ghost pets? Would psychics channel the spirits of animals? Would they somehow use animals to try and sniff out spirits?

The truth is even better: In the two episodes I saw, there was a passing reference to a family pet and then the animal was completely forgotten for the rest of the episode. It was literally “. . . and then Rover got really upset and I looked outside . . . “ with a quick cut of a dog looking at the camera. Needless to say, the dog didn’t look particularly agitated.

Now, maybe it’s just me, but if your channel is called Animal Planet and the show you’re running has absolutely nothing to do with animals, mayhap you shouldn’t run it? Or perhaps, change it to include animals?

Now, I’m not advocating throwing hamsters into haunted buildings to see what would happen (confused hamsters), but why not just have a show where the ghost hunters use dogs?

Just get a couple of high-strung dogs and have their handlers lead them through scary buildings. The dogs, being nervous by nature, will occasionally freak out. You then edit the whole thing together with the proper voice over and bingo, instant Animal Planet exclusive.

It would go something like this:

Narrator: “As the ghost hunters wound their way through the abandoned mental hospital which was built over an Indian burial ground and also happened to be the sight of several Civil-War battles, Mr. Jingles became nervous.”

Cut to Mr. Jingles licking himself.

Narrator: “That means he’s sensing something! But what?”

Mr. Jingles looks at a wall. And then the floor. And then the wall again. He resumes licking himself.

Narrator: “The spirit must be close! What will Mr. Jingles do now?!!!”

Mr. Jingles is now humping the camera man’s leg.

Cut to commercial.


Thursday, March 24, 2011

I Know Something You Don't . . .

Well, it’s been a busy week as usual over here at Single Edge Studios. Words were written. Pages were drawn. Long, contentious conversations were had over exactly how one pronounces ‘M’Kott.’

Ultimately, because I made up the word, I get to dictate its pronunciation. It’s pronounced ‘Mangrove Throat Wobbler.’ Some of you will get that.

In all seriousness, it’s pronounced ‘M’KaughT.’ Think Mr. Garrison saying ‘M’kay,’ remove the ‘kay,’ and add ‘caught’ with a hard T.

The really interesting part is what the word actually means . . .

NOTE: Leigh doesn’t even know. In fact, no one knows. Just me. MWHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Speaking of which, we’ll be at the Stumptown Comics Fest in about two weeks. If you happen to be in the Portland area, come on by and say ‘hello.’ And if you ask, I’ll tell you what ‘M’Kott’ means.

And then, you’ll be one of a very small, very exclusive club who know. You’ll be able to drop hints to your friends that you know and they’ll be quite jealous, ‘cause they don’t know what a made-up word in a fantasy comic means.


Okay, probably not.

Have a pleasant and safe weekend.


Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Technically Incompetent

Say for example that you were a regular reader of Wayfarer’s Moon and decided, hypothetically speaking, that you wanted to visit the forums and read what was being said there. You, theoretically, would go to the forums and be amazed at the profound and often hilarious insights provided about the comic. You would then, perhaps, wish to register for the forums and participate in said discussion.

You would probably expect that the process of registering would be quick, easy and above all, painless.

Unfortunately that would not be the case, seeing as how one cannot currently register, as our forum software is somehow broken.

Let me explain: Leigh and I are technically incompetent. Oh, we’ve worked with computers for over thirty-years combined and we are masters of our particular fields. However, we don’t really know how computers work and we know just enough to know that if we do something wrong, we could potentially set the computer on fire.

NOTE: No, I’ve never actually set a computer on fire. I did delete the entire Wayfarer’s Moon page once, which is why I’m not allowed to touch the web-stuff ever again.

So, if you need a comic page written, penciled, inked, colored, and lettered. Call us. We’re like elite comic commandos. Okay, slow, out-of-shape commandos who get winded if they stand up to fast, but commandos none-the-less.

Web-pagey programming types, not so much.

To sum up: if you’ve tried to register for the forums and couldn’t, we know and are having our guy look into the issue. Please be patient until we get this fixed. We’ll let you know once the issues have been resolved.


Tuesday, March 22, 2011


I recently received a grim warning from the future. This has happened twice before. The first time, I was ten and warned not to glue my nostrils shut with paste, regardless of how much money my best friend Chuck offered me.

I got my other friend Danny to do it instead and was glad I did, ‘cause when the school nurse pulled the hardened plug out, it was like the inside of his nose had been waxed. They say you could hear the scream ten miles away.

The second warning was about not starting a sci-fi web-comic. I dodged that one by starting a fantasy web-comic instead.

This latest warning was a simple, one-sentence email I received from an anonymous source. It read ‘Warning from the Future: Do not create robot armadillos or ‘robadillos.’

NOTE: The warnings always come in a ‘time-period’ acceptable way. The one about the nostrils was on a 3x5 card I found inside my Trapper Keeper. The second one was a rather (perhaps) ill-conceived tattoo. A word of caution: don’t get a ‘spur-of-the-moment’ tattoo from someone you don’t share a language with. That goes doubly if either party is drunk.

This latest warning brings up a couple questions: Why would I want to create a robadillo? What would I use a robadillo for? And thirdly, seeing as how I can barely balance my checkbook, how would I create a robadillo in the first place?

The first two answers are obvious: who wouldn’t want to create a robadillo? Honestly, the name is just cool. Secondly, I’d obviously use my army of robadillos to take over the world. Oh, sure, I’d start out with some sort of noble goal, like eliminating the scourge of gingivitis, but once I had a sixty-foot, fire-breathing armadillo with laser eyes and enough armor to stop a Tomahawk missile, I’d go a bit nuts.

Obviously though, the chance of me successfully creating an army of robadillos is slim to none, which is why this particular warning from the future is so puzzling. If I can’t create a robadillo in the first place, why warn me not to?

Unless, I’m SUPPOSED to create an army of robadillos, perhaps to fight off an alien invasion or something, and this warning is really from the aliens in a Terminator-esque ploy to get me not to.

Hmmmm, it’s a quandary. Maybe I should dust off my plans for a zombot army (half-zombie, half-robot), just in case.

Unless, that’s what the aliens really want!


Thursday, March 17, 2011

Hand™ and Butt

Let’s get things started quickly: I have a cold and I pulled a muscle in my butt.

I’m not sure where I got the cold from. I think it might have been at Emerald City Comicon, as I shook hands with roughly fifty-thousand people, give or take the odd-ten thousand. In the words of Jerry Lee Lewis, there was a whole lotta shakin’ going on.

NOTE: For my younger readers, Jerry Lee Lewis is a rock-n-roll legend. He has a number of classic rock hits, including ‘A Whole Lotta Shakin’ Going On’ and ‘Great Balls of Fire.’ He also invented the spear gun and a method of extracting yeast from moldy newspapers.

This is not the first time I’ve gotten sick after a con and I’ve come up with a solution. I call it The Hand™. It’s basically a mannequin hand and forearm with an internal anti-bacterial dispenser. When someone wants to shake your hand, you instead extend The Hand™ and shake with that. Sensors detect the shake and a few seconds after the Hand™ is released, The Hand™ sprays itself with the anti-bacterial, guaranteeing a fresh, clean Hand™ for the next shake.

And, if someone happens to offend you, you can use the companion product: The Finger™.

I am, however, pretty sure how I pulled the muscle in my butt.

I stood up.

Yeah, I somehow messed up a procedure that I’ve done probably a million times since I learned to walk. I wasn’t fighting ninjas, ripping cabinet doors off, or even saving a bus-load of orphans and nuns from a fiery death after they hit a giant robotic goose sent from the future to warn us about the penguins.

So, yeah. Sore nose, sore butt, same imagination.

But I still think The Hand™ is a great idea.

Have a good and safe weekend.


Wednesday, March 16, 2011

An Epiphany

I had an epiphany of sorts the other day. I was opening mail with a letter opener (shaped like a sword) and was so intent on the offer of term life insurance, I accidentally kinda ‘let go.’ The letter opener flew across my living room, ricocheted off the edge of the TV, and then knocked out a ninja who was disguised as a houseplant before falling to the ground.

Luckily, the TV wasn’t damaged.

As I was dragging the ninja out to the recycling bins, I reflected on my good luck. At that point, I tripped on something, possibly a rock, and fell heavily. Luckily, I landed on the ninja who was relatively soft, all things considered.

NOTE: I should have noticed the ninja disguised as a houseplant sooner. I don’t have any houseplants, as I feel it’s cruel to cage a wild creature. Also, they tend to die if you don’t water them at least once a year or so.

It was as I was sitting there on the ninja that I had my epiphany. It was entirely possible that I was a klutz.

The thing is that I don’t really think I’m clumsy. It’s more that when my mind is occupied, my body tends to do things on its own. Oh, it has the best of intentions, but sometimes it lacks . . . finesse. Coupled with what Leigh refers to as my ‘monkey strength,’ my body occasionally, accidentally, manipulates objects in a fashion that was not intended. IE, like the time I unintentionally removed a cabinet door from its hinges.

In my defense, allow me to point out that I gave my right arm a good talking-to and it hasn’t happened since.

So, on the one hand, I tend to break things. On the other, if someone is ever trapped in a kitchen cabinet, the door will be no obstacle.

No, I don’t know why someone would be trapped in a kitchen cabinet. Maybe they were playing hide-and-seek and hid in a cabinet and then developed a terrible cramp and couldn’t get out.

And yes, I suppose I could just open the door.

Okay, I admit that was a bad example. What if a race of evil, alien kitchen cabinets attacked the Earth and the only way they could be defeated was if their doors were ripped off? And they were somehow immune to bullets. And fire. And . . . uh . . . gravity.

So, yeah. Just let me know if you ever need something accidentally destroyed. My rates are quite reasonable.


Thursday, March 10, 2011

Rather Tired

Hey all,

It's been a long week here at Single Edge Studios. Emerald City was a blast, but it's an exhausting three days. I'm looking forward to sleeping in this weekend and playing some old-school pen and paper D&D.

Of course, I just remembered that Dayight Savings Time kicks in this weekend, so I'll have to get up an hour early on Monday. Curse you, Daylight Savings Time!

Seriously, why do we even do this anymore? I know that originally it was so farmers had more light, but now we have, well, lights and stuff, so it's not particularly relevant. Besides, I'm a computer nerd. I shun the sun and it's evil rays.

Anyway, have a great and safe weekend. And if you happen to be in Portland in about a month, look us up at the 2011 Stumptown Comic Fest!


Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Don’t Push the Button

I was just settling in to start tomorrow’s blog when I noticed something. At the top of my keyboard is a button labeled ‘My Favorites.’

Now, I’ve had this keyboard for quite some time and to be perfectly honest, I’ve never, ever pushed that button. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever really noticed it before. And now, staring down at the keyboard, I’m realizing that there are actually fourteen buttons up there.

I counted. Twice.

The really silly thing is that they’re all silver and black, as opposed to the rest of the keys, which are black and silver, so you’d think I would’ve noticed them earlier. It’s like when I realized all the other kids had five toes on each foot.

Many of the buttons are labeled, such as ‘Calculator,’ ‘Search’ and ‘Mail.’ I pressed several of them, just to see what they’d do. Strangely enough, the Calculator button brought up the calculator. This is incredibly useful. I will no longer have to click on the Start Menu, go to All Programs, Accessories, and then click on Calculator. I can just push this one button.

Obviously, I will completely forget about this the next time I need a calculator, because honestly, I never look at my keyboard (obviously). My hands just type and words appear on the screen. Sometimes the words tell me to do strange things, like garden naked. This is ludicrous, seeing as I don’t have a garden and I just end up standing on my balcony with a trowel, hoping passerby’s realize that I’m really, really cold.

Which brings us back to the ‘My Favorites’ button. What would happen when I press it? Would a super-model holding a hot fudge sundae appear? Would a literary agent with a 7-figure contract call my cell? Would a super-model literary agent with a 7-figure contract and life-time supply of hot fudge sundaes knock on my door?

Sadly, none of the above. It brought up a menu with a bunch of blank cells and instructions on how to link web sites. So, no, no super-models. However, as noted, I’ll completely forget about these extra buttons soon, so someday I’ll rediscover them and be disappointed once again. And I’ll eventually do it again.

Sisyphus has his boulder. I have a ‘Favorites’ button.


Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Emerald City Comicon 2011: After-Action Report

ECC began with a bang, as the first thing I did upon reaching our booth was knock over a chair. This set a general precedent, as I continually knocked down displays, backdrops, and tripped on boxes. Eventually, Leigh and my brother Rick simply removed anything within arm’s reach that could be knocked over. Unfortunately, they could not me-proof the entire convention, though a general warning was issued over the loudspeakers.

I kid.

About the loudspeakers.

So, yes. ECC was a great success for Wayfarer’s Moon. It featured the introduction of our brand-new TRADE PAPERBACK which features the first six issues, an illustrated short story, six pages of guest art, some race descriptions, and maps of the world of Lachryn. It is, I can assure you, 160 pages of pure, Wayfarer’s Moon goodness.
It is not yet available online, but don’t worry, I will announce when our publisher, Creator’s Edge Press, gets it set up.

We had a great time as usual. A few of our regulars, including Diane our Superfan, Ken (the first person to ever buy an issue of Wayfarer’s Moon who was not a friend or relative), and Blue Sun, a regular blog reader, all showed up. We made a lot of new friends, fought evil, and drank a lot of water.

NOTE: There’s something about big convention centers that dry me out like a llama in a shoe store (I have no idea what this means). Despite guzzling water the entire time, my lips were so dry that I could have sanded a deck with them. This prompted my brother to invite me to his house, as his deck needs refinishing. I declined.

Our usual gang of con-buddies were there as well. In no particular order:

Jason Metcalf, artist extraordinaire

Randy Kintz, another great artist

Jason Martin of Super Real Graphics

Michael Oeming of Mice Templars and other projects

Mike Maihack of Cleopatra in Space
Beth and Maria of Famine Lands, among other things

Drew of Pokeweed had the great misfortune of sitting next to us

Chuck, Bile, Travis and the rest of the gang from Creator’s Edge Press

Cody Vrosh and his lovely wife Sheatiel Sarao from BinaryWinter

A new friend, Jeff from Jefbot

And last, but not least, Cari from Toilet Genie, who was kind enough to give me some water after I polished off the entire case I brought with me

All in all, it was a great, yet exhausting time. Special thanks go out to my brother Rick, who left sunny California to help out his little brother.


Thursday, March 3, 2011

ECC Is Upon Us


The Emerald City Comicon is now upon us! Leigh, myself, and our band of stalwarts have been preparing for weeks now and it's time to expose ourselves to the public!

Wow, that sorta sounds wrong. Ummm . . . reveal ourselves? No. Er. Display? Bare? Unveil?

Ah, forget it. We're just going to show what we've got.


How about: we'll be there and you may, if you so desire, look at us in a not weird way.

Yeah, that degree in English was worth it.

Anyway, we hope you'll come by and say 'hi.' We promise we won't do anything strange. For us.


Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Yet Another Great Idea

I have yet another great idea. It’s so simple it’s brilliant. And so brilliant it just might be insane. And so insane, it might actually wrap back around to simple again. It’s like the Circle of Life, only it involves a lot more hysterical laughter.
Shouting ‘you fools!’ is optional.

And here it is: self-cleaning bathrooms.

‘What?’ you may say, followed quickly by ‘madness!’ But let me assure you, it’s brilliant. See the first paragraph for an affirmation of this.

So, here’s what you do. You tile your entire bathroom (you may use linoleum if you prefer) and install a drain. Next, remove the whirly arm thingies and the soap dispensers from multiple dish washers and install them in the ceilings and walls, hooking them up to the water system and a big button just outside the bathroom that says ‘CLEAN.’

Then, when you want to clean your bathroom, you simply add soap, shut the door, and press the button. Your bathroom will then go through an entire wash cycle, spraying high-pressure water and soap all over every surface, rinsing it off, and then drying the whole place.

It would save time, money, and effort. As an additional bonus, you could put children, pets, patio furniture, appliances, and if your bathroom is big enough, motorcycles. And yes, you could even put the dishes in there.

Like I said, brilliant.

Strangely enough, I had this idea while cleaning my bathroom last weekend. My brother is coming for a visit, so I figured I should at least get rid of anything that can actually move. Everything else is negligible.

He’s my brother. He’s not particularly squeamish.

On the plus side, I found my Swiffer, so I swiffered the hell out of my kitchen floor. I then discovered that you can swiffer a wall too. Now everything smells like lemons and rotting flesh.

NOTE: There’s a zombie in the closet. No, I don’t know how or why, but he had my Swiffer, which explains both the smells.

Anyway, feel free to install a self-cleaning bathroom. However, I make no guarantees as to the safety, efficiency, or sanity of such a project.

And I’m not sure if ‘swiffer’ is really a word. I’m just sayin’.