📰Mystery of the Missing Newsletters
Confession is Good for the Storymaze
Every episode of Into the Storymaze = writing ideas or writing-in-progress; something creative I’m excited to share; a highlight from my comic book writing; and a quote that’s worth a think.
Honestly, how hard is it to understand that a weekly newsletter needs to come out, you know, every week?
Apparently for me, this has been a particularly hard to grasp concept. At least based on the evidence of my months-long absence from this here Storymaze.
I briefly considered addressing the sitch right when I got my act back together at the start of September. But decided better for me to re-establish cred with actual turns in the Storymaze. The proof is in the wandering, as it were.
At the same time, it didn’t feel fair — for you, certainly — to just let such an omission slide.
Where was I for those too many weeks? Who kidnapped the words? Did someone slap a lock on the entrance to the Storymaze? (Or many locks, as the Storymaze has many ways in.)
What indeed is the mystery of these missing newsletters?
Spoiler alert: the truth is not in a “Netflix Making A Murderer” or “Thin Blue Line” reveal. It’s the far more pedantic reality of my day gig: a two decade plus career path I rarely touch upon.
(This is not an explanation or an excuse or a blame. It just is.)
My staff gigs over this time were a result of post-comics chance — and a surprising fit born of at least some of that publishing history. Having a skill at telling a story and managing multiple titles and multiple creators, along with no small amount of digital curiosity and facility, translated well into an advertising agency copywriter — and then, over the years, associate creative director, creative director, chief digital officer, chief creative officer and chief experience officer. (It would seem there can never be enough chiefs.)
The output here was on the order of digital ad banners and marketing apps and promotional web sites, social posts and convention booths, videos, strategy, presenting and project management. Even now having left the staff environment — not entirely by choice, but all good — this type of work remains a staple of my income. And it's fun to help people and businesses solve their problems with words.
But even though I can now define it on my terms, I am still at risk to the worst missteps I made when I was a "company man." Namely going so all-in that I can push my own creative projects to the side — or off the desk/screen entirely.
(When I had a catch up lunch with Fabian Nicieza recently, he was incredulous at my relative disappearance from the comic book and storytelling scene. "What happened to you? It's like you just vanished.")
It's not giving less priority to a trip "Into the Storymaze." It's a matter of wanting to maintain the standards I've set. (Imposed?)
And if I can't get there because I was busy on that Project X deadline, well, then I'll just take another day to get Twisty Little Passages just right. And if I don't have the bestest evah Treasure Seekers for today, it'll be over the weekend. And certainly something stellar dug out for The Comics Labyrinth by the end of the week. And hey, where does this road of good intentions lead? Is that…🔥😈?
Of course those expectations that each section be “just so” — or even included every single time — are my own. It’s important to maintain quality. But as Warren Oates (aka Sgt. Hulka) says to Psycho in Stripes:
What I’m thinking now, going into this next phase of this newsletter, is that the “along the road” time on the day job is a Storymaze worth its own mention. If next week it turns out I don’t have a polished gem to share — I’m taking a cue from other writers’ newsletters to instead share the blow-by-blow of what’s up in my writing world at large.
This will bring to light more of that “rarely touched upon,” and help ensure fewer gaps in the routine — or, in keeping with our theme, dead ends in the Storymaze.
Mystery solved? Maybe now it’s time for that Netflix special!
It seems fashionable in some social media circles to diss on Andor, the Disney+ Star Wars prequel that follows the adventures of Cassian Andor from grifter to the rebellion leader featured in the excellent Rogue One. I've seen this new multipart series been derided as "too slow" or "too grim" — the latter, especially, for fans who like their Star Wars "for kids."
But while it is admittedly a slow burn, its multi-character, multi-level storytelling ticks all my Storymaze boxes. Andor deftly transitions between agents of the Empire leveraging its harsh bureaucracy to aspire to higher station; to high-stationed senators navigating politics of power; to self-serving thievery evolving into selfless calls to action.
The performances are subtle and top notch, and the payoffs — an epic heist of imperial credits, a rousing prison break up there with the best ever put on film — are that much more satisfying for feeling truly "earned."
And the writing? My keyboard weeps with jealousy. Stellan Skarsgård plays a rebel leader, manipulating behind the scenes to goad the Empire into bringing the hammer down ever harder, a strategy designed to force the rebellion to erupt with greater force and passion. Here's how he relates what his choices have done to him:
"Calm. Kindness, kinship. Love. I’ve given up all chance at inner peace, I’ve made my mind a sunless space. I share my dreams with ghosts. I wake up every day to an equation I wrote 15 years ago from which there’s only one conclusion: I’m damned for what I do.
My anger, my ego, my unwillingness to yield, my eagerness to fight, they’ve set me on a path from which there is no escape. I yearned to be a savior against injustice without contemplating the cost, and by the time I looked down, there was no longer any ground beneath my feet.
"What is... what is my sacrifice? I’m condemned to use the tools of my enemy to defeat them. I burn my decency for someone else’s future. I burn my life, to make a sunrise that I know I’ll never see. No, the ego that started this fight will never have a mirror, or an audience, or the light of gratitude. So what do I sacrifice?
Everything."
As good as those words are, you really have to see them come to life. Go find Andor in that galaxy far, far away.
Every month the editorial page in Marvel’s main books would feature a different profile/Pro-File (Get it? Professional File!) of a staffer. While we in Epic weren’t first on the list they eventually made their way around to our corner of the House of Ideas.
You can read at least three of my multiple personalities at work in these answers: excited to be there; total imposter syndrome; and the too cool for school snarkster. I’m glad to report they’ve since matured from this total dysfunction to a more moderated co-existence.
I’m racking my brain on who the *other* “meanest person in the world” would be; and I still contend that Dictionary of Demons is a pretty damn good book.
“Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life.” — Steve Jobs
Amazing Times
I’m D.G. Chichester. If that looks pretentious, feel free to just call me “Dan.”
I earned my storytelling cred writing comic book titles like Daredevil, Terror Inc., Nick Fury Agent of SHIELD and Clive Barker’s Hellraiser, along with digital widgets in the world wide web of advertising. I like weird tales, so if things here bend that way — now you know why!
Folks seem to like the comic book adventures I’ve written, so if you haven’t checked one out — please do. Many are now available in fab collected editions.
For the eager moments between newsletters…
@dgchichester — 280 characters from the Twitterverse
@dgchichester — images via Instagramland