Every episode of 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.
Previously on “Storymaze”…I’ve been happy to feature some excerpts from the writing “how to” podcast I ran with pal and filmmaker Mark Bellusci. “Street Writers” was our way of figuring out in real-time how we kept up a career of delivering words to clients and ourselves. Here’s another look back. This one was called “The Guarantee…”
Dan: A lot of times we give tips that, who knows if they work out or not. Maybe you try it, maybe it works. Maybe you try it, doesn't work for you. I'm going to give you a guaranteed technique. Absolute guarantee what will happen with this one, Mark, for any of our listeners. For yourself as well, if you want to take it on.
Mark: The guarantee is good.
Dan: I want you to stop writing today because I guarantee what will happen to your writing career. Just stop writing, because I guarantee what happens. Now, if you keep going no matter what, then the possibilities are endless. But it's so easy to stop.
And so I invite you to accept this gift I'm giving to you. Just stop writing.
Mark: It sounded like Beelzebub. “Go commit that murder. Listen, it’s cold this winter? Not where we're going. Don't worry about that. What the hell are you doing?”
That's cute though. After the frustrating writing I've been doing on this one project, I might take you up on it.
Dan: That's the thing, right? It's so easy to stop and it is so easy, even when you're successful at things. Where I picked this up from was actually this guy who had been successful. But his partner had been even more successful, went on to win some Pulitzers, I think.
But the first guy was like, “What? I'm fine. I got a success. I got my accolades. I'll just take it easy until the muse hits and go with that.” And where do you think the Pulitzer guy went on to go? And where do you think the partner went on to?
Maybe it's a little bit of a variation on some of the themes we always talk about, but I think that you really need to look at it in that stark contrast of that guarantee. Because you can give up on it so easy and, and keeping at it is not as easy. But God knows where those possibilities take you.
Mark: It's finding your way every week. Rain, sun, storms, COVID. Go wait on the street corner for the lottery, and be cold and miserable. But like they say, you can't win it if you're not in it. So you got to put your finger in it or else you got nothing.
Dan: Accept my deal that I'm giving you. Like you said, the horns are on my head right now. Just stop writing. Keep listening, but stop writing and just treat this as a nice to have.
Mark: I never noticed this cause you have more hair than I do, but now I'm looking at the top of your head — there are two little pointy things kind of popping up.
Dan: And if you notice my ears are a little pointed, got them little tips on the end.
Mark: And is that a skin condition or are those scales?
Maybe you stop writing for a day or two and see how you feel. Because to me, my eye would twitch.
Dan: Just talking about it you're twitching!
We’ve looked at Storymaze treasures that lead into the page and the screen. How about a literal place?
On the site of a former bowling alley in Santa Fe you'll find a portal to a strange alternate dimension, with the gloriously peculiar name of "Meow Wolf." Is it a museum? A gallery? An escape room? A storytelling playground? Yes times four, and many times moreover.
It's a creative experiment on steroids, meth, ice cream sundaes — a trippy, tremendous, mind-blowing immersive art installation born out of a local counterculture collective of artists. Once you pass through the doors of this "House of Eternal Return" (that's the New Mexico theme — there are other Meow Wolf experiences in Denver and Vegas, each with their own themes) you find yourself in the front yard of a multi-story house at night.
The "bowling alley building" is quickly forgotten as you're surrounded by the damp of the lawn, the buzz of insects, the smell of the outdoors. Go inside, go through its rooms, upstairs, under the stairs, through the kitchen, the bedrooms — explore everywhere, you're told. And that's when you realize — everywhere leads somewhere new.
That newspaper on the table — suggests a bizarre conspiracy behind a missing child. That white light around the seam of the closed fridge door — is a precursor to the blinding flash you'll find when you open it and STEP INSIDE, on your way to a spaceport.
Open the washing machine — to find a spinning kaleidoscopic tunnel you can slide down into a multicolored cave. Stoop down to look into the fireplace — and you'll find yourself in a tunnel that leads to a full sized Mastodon skeleton with musical bones you can play a tune on.
Turn a corner and you're in a setting that looks like it fell out of a 1930s black and white cartoon. Turn another and you're wandering a hot neon cyberpunk alley. Spin around and you're in a Miyazaki style forest of towering trees with spiral staircases inside their trunks, beckoning you to climb and explore the treehouses you see overhead.
Stay as long as you like. (Part of me feels like it's still there.) Piece together its loose narrative of mystery, sci-fi and fantasy from clues left on postcards in the front yard mailbox, scribbles in diaries, or what you'll see when you look through miniature windows and spy strange dioramas featuring hamsters building the pyramids. Or just play a personal concert in a dark room of dense fog, strumming your fingers through the projected "strings" of a laser light harp.
Sometimes creepy, bizarrely comical, eminently cool, exploring the world(s) of Meow Wolf is the very definition of a "Storymaze." Damn, now I've gotta up my game even more!
Let's be honest: editing Groo the Wanderer wasn't exactly the hardest lift of my on-staff career. This was a team of consummate professionals, that essentially delivered each issue on time, every time, pretty much fully packaged: from Sergio Aragones’ brilliant visual comedy, to Mark Evanier's witty wordplay, to Stan Sakai's sharp letters, to Tom Luth's fray-worthy colors. I was a bit more than a traffic manager, but when everything and everyone is so buttoned up — you're a bit along for the ride at times.
Nonetheless, it was very much my job to be the representative and advocate of this creative team — even more important considering that the Epic Comics’ imprint was not just creator-friendly but creator-owned. Sergio maintained ownership of his character, with Epic/Marvel acting only as publisher.
And while I was still very green in many ways, I did my utmost best to keep our frequent phone chats friendly, and the Wanderer's swords "sharp." That translated into handling printing issues, investigating timely payments, or championing special editions — whatever a bumbling barbarian needed, I was very much their man at 387 Park Avenue South, New York City.
The thing for me was that when you work with and for such high quality talent, it raises your bar for quality. While there wasn't a lot this crew needed in terms of editorial input on story or page layout — I could and did maintain high standards in terms of attention to detail in the proofreading and packaging things up to ship to the printer. Proofing was mostly a safety check — I don't think Stan ever made a mistake in the lettering — so I'm to be forgiven if I was a bit on autopilot as I read through the latest issue. "Melee…" Check. "Did I err?" Check. "Groo does what Groo does best…" Check. "Prince of Chichester…" Che — wait. What?!?
Out of the blue, one of the funniest comics going, by one of my favorite cartoonists, had chosen me (or at least my mouthful of a moniker) to become a running gag. (The Prince would return many times across many issues, far outlasting my relatively brief editorial tenure. Anyone know if he's still out there, confusing poor Groo?) The takeaway here: never overlook the importance of proofreading! Apparently I had been doing something right. Or they had already used up all the other funny sounding names with "Rufferto." (Groo's far more intelligent four legged friend.)
“"Every branch of human knowledge, if traced up to its source and final principles, vanishes into mystery.” — Arthur Machen
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