I'm not dead ...

Well, this has been a lively little blog of late, hasn’t it?

I’m very sorry, everyone. It’s been a thoroughly craptastic couple of weeks—I’ve had my entire work schedule turned upside down, and I’ve had to reset my circadian rhythm as a result, and it’s not exactly cooperating. I’m very much a night owl by nature, and half the time I’m getting up so early I might as well not go to bed at all.

So to make it up to you, I thought I’d share this preliminary shot of some T-shirt art I’m doing for Comic-Con this year. That’s right, I’m doing a sequel to last year’s Rae shirt, this time with Trevor. I tried to give the figure a little sense of motion this time, an impression that he was plunging out of the darkness while Rae seemed to sidle back into it. I even managed to include the sling he used both in his sidekick days and against Cobalt in Volume 1. And yes, his right eye is blank by design—I’m trying to do something where the lens is at the wrong angle to show the eye behind it, so that only his left eye is visible. I thought it would mirror Rae’s single visible eye better, and also hint at Trevor’s rather shadowy nature. You never can see everything he’s up to, or everything he’s thinking, can you?

I haven’t decided yet what quote to slap on the design—although at least one person has suggested “Always run toward the screaming”—but I think it’s a good counterpart to the Rae image. What do you all say to his-and-hers bookmarks?

Colors soon … and feel free to suggest quotes in the comments!

Mulligan schmulligan

It's like this, guys.

I had to stay up until the crack of why-am-I-awake to finish something for work, and I know I have to get up bright and early this morning to do something else for work. Don't get me wrong, I like being employed--but you're not going to get a lot of literary brilliance out of me today beyond "fire bad, tree pretty," to steal a phrase.

So here's a picture instead. It's an illustration from "The Missing," the short story (and postscript) that you can read if you buy Volume 1 of Masks in paperback (and ebook, when it's out--soon!) And you even get to see Rae's snazzy new haircut, which you will find out all about when you read Chapter 32.

More goodies soon, I promise!

Urban fantasy, MASKS style

This is hilarious. And fascinating.

I’m not a great fan of the “princess” novels of Jim C. Hines, where he reimagines fairytale princesses as action heroes. I’m just not into the princess thing; call it a matter of taste. But I almost suffocated laughing when he recently tried to replicate his main character’s pose on the cover of the first book … and then proceeded to try imitating the poses of other fantasy cover girls to point out how ridiculous they are. He’s in good shape, and he’s a good sport, but it’s just too snicker-worthy for words (more pictures at the link above): 

And then things got really interesting! 

You see, LiveJournal user Ocelott took Hines’ idea a step further, trying to replicate the poses herself (with the advantage of being both female and a former dancer, albeit with a bad knee) and then tried imitating male poses from the covers of well-known fantasy hits like Ariel and Jim Butcher’s Dresden Files novels. And as you’ll see if you read her comments on the photos, she found the female poses uncomfortable and impractical for fighting, while she found the male poses natural, strong, and sensible for the characters being portrayed. Harry Dresden really could use his staff from that position, either to throw fireballs or to crack somebody in the head. But what the hell does Mercy Thompson think she’s doing?

 

The point of all this, of course, is that female fantasy heroines are posed to look sexy first and strong second, if at all, while men are almost always posed to look just plain strong, and maybe a bit mysterious if they have time. They get more practical clothes, too. These are all points that have been made many, many times, and I at least have accepted them as part of life for as long as I’ve been able to read. Women on book covers look stupid; what else is new? 

But while I was looking at Ocelott’s photos, I got a fairly brilliant idea. 

In Masks, Rae is almost never posed for sex appeal, either on the cover or in my illustrations. This is partly because I’m not drawing to appeal to horny teenage guys; I’m trying to convey plot points and create a sense of drama. Mostly, however, it’s because I’m just not a very good artist! I have to sweat blood over even a two-figure illustration, and it still comes out looking sort of weird to my eyes, so I’m not going to try to throw sex appeal in there if I’ve managed to get the anatomy and physics mostly right. I have enough trouble making sure Rae’s eyes are on the same level—I can’t be bothered to try a swaybacked Wonder Woman pose into the bargain. So even when you see Rae’s butt, it’s because she’s throwing a shin strike at Trevor, not because she’s got such a great butt:

 (Fun fact? Both the figures in this shot used male models. Rae was originally a random guy on a martial-arts blog, and Trevor was my older brother, a martial artist who graciously let me throw a shin strike at his ribs and then take a picture of him blocking it.) 

Yes, you’ve discovered my secret: Rae looks like a real person because I couldn’t afford fake people, and it turns out using real people looks better. (At least, it does when you’re as lousy an artist as I am.) Rae’s pose on the Volume 1 cover looks natural and anatomically possible because I made it the old-fashioned way, by dressing up a real person and taking her picture. If you have that costume, and a patient woman of the right build, and a window for light, you can replicate that shot with very little trouble. 

 

All of which gave me an idea! 

I liked Ocelott’s gender-bending pictures so much that I decided to see if I could turn out some cool-looking Rae pinups based on her “male” poses. It was also a great chance to show off the new haircut Rae will have in Volume 2 (people who’ve read the end of Volume 1 know why!). Here’s my first attempt, based on a Simon R. Green cover and Ocelott’s resulting photo. I gave Rae a staff because she doesn’t really use swords, but I could easily envision her picking up a stick or a pipe:

 

Not bad, huh? She looks kind of badass! 

Then I tried the popped-collar shot, which made me smile because it means Rae has borrowed Trevor’s jacket. You can see him in the background there, wondering what on earth is going on. Good fun, this!

 And now I come to the shot that originally inspired this blog entry. I saw this photo on Ocelott’s page and my first thought was, “Damn, Rae has to do that. Even if she doesn’t have the chest for it.” I just loved the set of Ocelott’s head and shoulders, and I wanted to try it with Rae. First I tried it with the staff again:

And then—just for a stretch—I tried it with a coyote. Not Pocket Coyote, mind you—an actual coyote who appears in Chapter 29. He even (spoiler alert!) reappears, giant-sized, in Volume 2, so this is technically canonical. I had to change the position of Rae’s arm because she’s touching fur, not pulling a staff, but it still mostly works, I think.

Real people. Awesome art. Who knew? Oh, that’s right. Me. And you guys. 

Do we rock or what?

Nicole Le has a confession to make.

And now, I think, we’ve come to a very particular point in our little superhero epic—the moment where the reader, at least, discovers the hero’s secret identity.

Not that I’m claiming to be a superhero—far from it. But I have been maintaining a second identity on the side, and now I’ve lost my original reason for maintaining it and don’t have a replacement. So here’s the secret:

Nicole Le doesn’t exist. Or rather, she does, but she’s me.

Any illustration you’ve seen on this blog, or on Facebook, or on Pocket Coyote attributed to Nicole Le is, in fact, the work of one R.M. Hendershot. Yours truly. Quite a few of you already know this, of course; among my friends and colleagues, it’s just about the worst-kept secret ever, although some of them seem to forget from time to time and ask me if “Nicole” might draw something, then give me blank looks when I say, “Sure, if I have time.” But I drew those first sketches of Rae and Trevor and their world. I painted the images in that first trailer, in addition to taking the photographs. I did the art for the Comic-Con bookmark and T-shirt. And every blessed one of those black-and-white chapter illustrations on Pocket Coyote is my work, too. (Sorry about that!)

I’m telling you now because the book is coming out, and it seems disingenuous to claim that two people worked on it when in fact I did all the work myself. This is less because I want to brag about having done all that work than because I want to own up to any mistakes; whether the art sucks or there’s a typo on page 47, it’s all on me. That’s what boostrap publishing is all about.

So why did I invent Nicole in the first place, if it wasn’t to avoid taking the heat for lousy artwork?

 

Well, that was the original reason—but not in the way it sounds. Remember, I started out as a comic-book fan, and in comicdom there is a thing called a “writer-artist.” Writer-artists write and illustrate their own comics, a bit like singer-songwriters in music. There are some wonderful writer-artists out there—people like Aaron Williams of PS238 or Michel Gagné of The Saga of Rex. But—not to put too fine a point on it—most writer-artists are judged more by their art than by their writing. That’s only natural; you can look at a drawing of a superhero and tell pretty much immediately whether it’s any good, but you have to read an entire story to judge a writer.

And the fact is, I’m a much better writer than I am an artist. Always have been, and likely always will be. Maybe it’s because I’ve always been, shall we say, less than visually gifted; maybe it’s because I just didn’t like drawing as much as I liked writing, and therefore didn’t practice it as much. In any case, I have always considered drawing a pleasant sideline, a way to solve writing problems and occasionally get a little attention for my stories, and I didn’t want to have my real work judged on the basis of my hobby work. As long as I was writing superhero stories primarily for my fellow nerds, I wanted to avoid the stigma of being a writer-artist who couldn’t actually draw all that well.

So I invented Nicole, a fairly transparent fiction, and would gladly admit to anyone who asked that we were the same person—but most people didn’t ask. They were content to laugh at my stories of bribing my “friend” with fast food, smirk as I complained about having to take reference photos for my fussy, reclusive artist pal. (The rumor that she never uses her hands for anything but drawing, however, and therefore needs doors opened for her and food spooned into her mouth … that one wasn’t my doing. You will not be surprised to hear that the friend who inspired Tammy Hoffman came up with that one. Someday she’ll finish writing her own novel, and it will be a strange and wondrous thing.)

Perhaps nobody thought I’d make up an alter ego I couldn’t pass for, and there’s no way anyone will believe I’m Vietnamese. (For the record, “Le” is the Vietnamese equivalent of “Jones”—the second most common last name in that country, after Nguyen. It’s also the last name of a friend from high school. I chose “Nicole” as a first name because it sounded like a good Francophone “American name” for a Vietnamese American, and because it was the given name of my best friend in second grade.) Perhaps it was easier for people to enjoy my stories if they imagined the illustrations hadn’t actually come from the mind and hand of the person who made up the characters—that there was still some wiggle room between what was on the page and what those imaginary people were really like. (There is—if you think Rae and Trevor look like something other than what I’ve drawn, you’re welcome to it. I can’t actually represent what’s in my head.) Or maybe most people just didn’t care.

But now I’m not writing strictly for fandom, or at least not comic fandom. In the book world, it’s okay to be a slightly idiosyncratic artist if you’re illustrating your own books. I’m still slow on the draw by professional standards, and a bit short on genuine artistic talent by any standards, but if anyone complains about the art at this point, I can shrug and say, “What do you expect? I’m really a writer.” And that’s just fine, as long as I’m not doing full-on comic books. I also like the fact that this way I don’t have to feel bad when I criticize “Nicole” ’s art in public—I’m not picking on my absent artist, I’m showing off my low self-esteem.

And, I’ll admit, I think it’s just a bit more impressive to be a writer who draws her own illustrations because all her artist friends are busy than it is to be a writer who dragoons her friends into drawing for her. But maybe that’s just me.

Now, Nicole’s byline isn’t going away. The fiction’s just going to be a lot more transparent now. I really don’t care whether anybody knows I’m Nicole or not. Let casual readers think we’re two different people; you guys (and anyone who cares enough to Google this blog entry) will know the truth. If you meet me at a fair or a signing, I’ll happily draw you a terrible sketch and sign it for the both of us. I will continue to use the name Nicole Le for my artwork online and stick to my own for the writing (and on the books—the ISBN lawyers will get huffy otherwise). Nicole’s DeviantArt page will soon get going. I will probably keep making up silly stories about what I had to do to get Nicole to illustrate something this time. I quite like having an imaginary artist friend.

But next time I post a sketch signed “NLe”, you can have the warm pleasure of knowing you’re an insider. You know what’s really going on. You’ve seen behind the mask, you’re in on the secret, you’re one of the select few privileged to know R.M. Hendershot’s secret identity.

But if you get kidnapped by a supervillain and thrown off the George Washington Bridge, you’re on your own. Probably.

Picture puzzle

Sorry, guys, not a lot to say today. I’m neck-deep in page layouts and the like for the collected edition of Masks, and I’m in what I think is the exact middle of writing a short story, “The Missing,” to be included in that volume. So in lieu of something genuinely interesting, and because I just wrote a scene with these characters in it, here’s Nicole’s illustration for Chapter 27. 

Yes, I’ve already posted this image on Facebook, but I want to point something out right now and establish that it’s not a mistake on Nicole’s part.

See that horse? That’s the Masked Rider’s horse, obviously. And that’s the Masked Rider behind him. The Rider just rode up on that horse and then dismounted. There’s also some fire in the shot, but they didn’t do that. 

Notice anything missing from this picture? Something to do with the horse, perhaps? Give it a moment; you’ll see it. You don’t even need to know much about horses to figure it out. I’ll wait.

Trippy, huh? I just want to say that Nicole didn’t make a mistake. I told her to leave that out. You may consider this a spoiler about the true nature of the Masked Rider. And his horse. 

I look forward to seeing your theories in the comments …