Everyone remembers the day where they decided to grab life by the balls and go for their dreams. It's never nearly as pleasant or as pretty as the movies make it seem.
I was a comic book artist with a series that had a decent enough following to survive on its own. I had just released a soundtrack to the storyline, ten years in the making and started dabbling in songwriting. During the weekends I started touring with a tribute project playing keyboards, saxophones and singing back up to make some extra cash. It was, until I made that fatal error of not backing up a year's worth of work, what seemed to be the perfect job.
I was sitting in a brightly lit convention hall, some ten thousand people rustling around me, when my husband turned to me and said, "I'm sorry they couldn't recover your hard drive." Inner scream! Ever-impervious, the day went on but the question lingered, "Where the fuck do we go from here?"
The comic book industry had been generous to me so why not just start fresh? I tried to reason with myself back and forth over the months that followed and eventually fell on it was time for a change of pace.
This is my blog of horrors from a comic artist dredging through the angry, vicious music industry, its audacity and shallowness, in full technicolor glory and stereo-surround.
Fighting the good fight. One day at a time.
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