Alan M. Clark’s Advice for Aspiring Illustrators, Part 5
Professionalism
In all that you do in your illustration business, show professionalism. Don’t be a slob. Organize your life. The flaky artist rarely succeeds. Society’s “temperamental artist” is a stereotype. You don’t want to be a stereotype, do you? Make the effort to speak with good grammar. When writing to people, whether by regular mail or e-mail, compose your messages carefully and spell words correctly. All of these efforts indicate a high level of interest and willingness to perform your illustration services with care and excellence. That’s exactly the message you want to convey about yourself, your methods and your work. This is an important part of how to get people to pay for your work. If you are moderately talented or better and persistent, you may very well succeed.
Your appearance is important and sends a message as well. When I was starting out in illustration and looking for work, I wore dress pants, penny loafers and oxford shirts while doing business at conventions and with art directors. I’m not suggesting these clothes are necessary, but I want to get across some of what I was willing to do to get work. I believed that was the uniform I should wear to projected an image of stability since I was trying to get work from New York mass market paperback publishers. I looked damned preppy, but my artwork spoke of my imagination for me. I wore the uniform while many of my friends who were aspiring illustrators were wearing Hawaiian shirts, sandals, and ripped jeans. I believe it helped me get work.
You might think that I’m not a ripped jeans sort of guy, but that’s far from the truth. My opinion is that if you can be conservative and responsible in your business practices and work hard, you’ll probably get the opportunity to be spontaneous and wild in your art.
After I’d been getting illustration work consistently for over ten years, my wife, Melody, said to me one day, “You’re brave to have pursued your artwork and made a good business out of it.”
She’s a sweetheart to say stuff like that to me, but I said, “No, I’m not. I worked hard because I was afraid. I feared making a living doing something I wouldn’t enjoy, something that would give me little pride.”
If you have a desire to pursue your creative talents and find an audience, it’s no small task, but I believe regret for not having tried would be much worse.
—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon
Weird Comic Watch: Mesmo Delivery
KA-BLAM! A beefy trucker and an elderly Elvis impersonator are hired to deliver a mystery package cross-country, only they run into a little trouble at a secluded grease pit and the whole world might end because of it. This book would be so simple if not for the slicing dicing blade of insane ultraviolent artwork inside, all created by a Brazilian guy named Grampa.
That’s the unbridled weirdness of Mesmo Delivery. The concept is odd-yet-simple, but the real star of this book is Rafael Grampa’s drawing ability. Like Frank Quitely or Moebius, there is a ridiculous level of detail in his work, allowing for all sorts of weird stuff to happen on the way to finding out just what the hell is in the back of that truck.
Along with that you get giant splatter trails of blood, fancy Elvis lyrics in the background, a guy with a concrete fist, and maybe Satan as well. There are surreal smiling cartoon characters and faux brand names sprinkled throughout, giving the book a silly-yet-unsettling feel. Mesmo Delivery is tough, violent, and funny, full of ballsy attitude surfing a wave of raw talent. So if you’re a fan of beautifully weird comics, get a copy, ya idgit!
What They Didn’t Teach Me in Art School
by Alan M. Clark, Jill Bauman, Chad Savage, and Steven C. Gilberts
The names of the artist in this post are links to their websites.
I have a degree in painting from the San Francisco Art Institute, and while I got a lot out of that education, there’s much that I learned only after college, in the “real” world. Here’s some of what my professors didn’t teach me:
- They didn’t teach me to be reliable, responsive, punctual, and easy to work with.
- They didn’t teach me how to communicate and make my services as an artist salable.
- They didn’t teach me that the world didn’t need me and my artwork and that I’d have to establish the value of my work before anyone would take me seriously.
- They didn’t teach me that the value of artwork is based on “perceived value” and that it is up to me to raise the perceived value of my work.
- They didn’t teach me that I needed to establish a good reputation for fulfilling the dreams of my clients if I expected to continue to get work (note that I did not say “the needs of my clients”).
Perhaps these things go without saying, but I think it would have been helpful if my professors had addressed them. Of course, I was young and full of myself and not paying attention to my teachers the way I might have. Perhaps they knew this and that practical experience was the best teacher of these basics.
When young artists ask me for advice, the first thing I say is, “Don’t be a flake.” Second thing I say is, “The business of getting work as an artist takes tenacity.” Third thing I say is, “Learn how to raise the perceived value of your work.”
What they didn’t teach me in art school was how to deal with the emotional ups & downs of an art career. That was left to parents, siblings and friends who questioned the practical aspects of my life as an artist.
They didn’t teach me how to be original or to set myself apart from other artists. This I had to discover on my own. They taught basic skills, but not how to “think” as an artist.
Art school does not teach you how to present yourself and your art to galleries or art directors.
They didn’t teach me about money management or setting up funds for retirement or investment. Working as a free lance artist can be a rocky financial road.
They didn’t teach me anything about the business end of art. There were no courses in copyright protection, contracts, tax deductions or artists’ rights.
They didn’t teach me about the struggles to pay heath insurance.
As an artist I followed my dream. I was willing to pay the consequences when it came to artistic, financial, emotion and spiritual challenges. The end result is that I have had a long and fruitful career. I don’t have to retire. Now, I am respected for my experience.
If I were teaching now, I would advise young artists to develop their drawing skills. I would tell them to participate in life-drawing classes–it will be the basis of everything else that they do. Then I would encourage them to find their own way of seeing the world and expressing it visually.
Don’t try to be like someone else you think is successful.
Have your own vision!
Be original!
Dress neat!
1. Personality & Integrity
When a potential employer is first informed of your existence as an artist,
if s/he’s got Brain One, s/he’ll ask his/her contemporaries “What do you
think of this artist”? You’ll be judged and juried without ever even knowing
it, based on (a) your personality and (b) your integrity. That is to say,
based on how you deal with people, and how you deal with your work.
Are you a charismatic character who meets deadlines? You’re golden.
Are you a shy, withdrawn type who meets deadlines? You’re still good to go.
Are you a prima donna jackass who meets deadlines? You might still get
hired.
Are you a charismatic character who misses deadlines? Outlook not good.
Are you a shy, withdrawn type who misses deadlines? You’ll have plenty of
time to doodle.
Are you a prima donna jackass who misses deadlines? Have fun in the vacuum
that is your life.
Be easy to get along with. Don’t miss deadlines. I can’t state it any
simpler than that. Go to conventions and buy the first round. Be funny and
entertaining at industry events. Post to industry message boards and have
something intelligent to contribute. Tell jokes. Be fun.
And don’t miss deadlines.
2. Say NO.
Seriously. Nobody taught me how to say “NO” without feeling guilty. It took
10 years of every sob-story band, writer, starving artist, et al begging and
pleading for my artistic assistance before I was able to say, with 100%
conviction and 0% guilt: NO. You don’t walk into McDonald’s and expect a
hamburger just because you’re a broke musician; don’t walk into my studio
and expect free art. My time and talents are valuable. Period. If you can’t
see that, that’s your problem.
3. Be Professional.
Any industry, no matter what its focus, is rife with political crapola,
rampaging egotism and nepotism galore. Your job? Stay out of it. Rise above.
Don’t engage in stuff that is beneath you as a professional artist, no
matter how tempting it might be. I am certainly not without sin in this
department, but the older and more experienced I get, the more I’m able to
resist it, because I’ve seen how it NEVER works to your benefit. If you’re
known as the guy/gal that is impervious to industry shenanigans, well, go
back and read Rule #1 above.
During my freshman and sophomore years I attended the Louisville School of Art which offered a BFA (Bachelor of Fine Arts) program. When the school closed due to financial problems, I transferred the applicable credits to the BA (Bachelor of Arts) program of a satellite campus of Indiana University. This was the only option financially available to me at that time.
While both programs taught an adequately balanced curriculum of artistic fundamentals, they considerably lacked in teaching even a basic understanding of marketing artwork or artistic skills. In fact, the prospect of creating “art for hire” was largely a forbidden topic. In general, both establishments frowned upon commercial and graphic art and viewed it as “selling out” or “prostituting one’s artwork.” The rule was “art was done for the purpose of creating art alone, not for deliberate monetary gain.” Within the later BA program, this bleak financial future was not helped by the large amount of non-art required (and expensive) courses the degree demanded. Additionally, I encountered what has been a common complaint among many of my professional peers. Particularly within the BFA program (but also present within the BA program) there was an outspoken majority of both upper class-men and faculty that were openly opposed to fantasy and science fiction illustration. Once, when I mentioned my interest in fantasy illustration to a senior, her reply to me was “Don’t worry Steve, we’ll burn that idea out of you.” Ironically she was not saying this to be mean. She actually meant this as a positive and inevitable outcome of the BFA program.
Now I don’t mean to undermine the value of a college education in the arts. My time spent in the classroom was invaluable in learning the basics of composition, design, and color theory. Indeed, I feel that it is my background in the fine arts that has given my work a distinctive edge that helps people to identify my work.
But for the amount of money and time that an art degree costs, there should always be at least the potential of financial opportunity in compensation. Art for art’s sake might be a philosophy worthy of those who are independently wealthy, a Sunday hobbyist, or a tenured professor. But for a large number of artists, illustrating for a living is how the bills are paid.
In regards to higher education, my advice to young artists is that a college degree is a worthy endeavor, provided you avoid some pitfalls.
If possible, attend a Bachelor of Fine Arts program rather than a Bachelor of Arts program so that you will be able to concentrate on art. While I understand that it does not hurt to have a well rounded education, courses not specific to a degree should be chosen by the student or at least the faculty teaching the degree, not the financial department of the university.
Make sure the program will provide you with the opportunity to grow in your skills, not stifle them.
Develop your own style. I can’t stress that enough. During my college years I saw fellow students emulate the styles of favored instructors. The instructors and their work are still around, but their imitators have vanished. Conversely, some instructors tried to churn out clones of themselves. Professors of this type are best avoided as they can cause damage to a developing artist.
Don’t buy into the philosophy that creating art for profit is demeaning and lessens the value of the piece. This philosophy doesn’t apply to the endeavors of teachers, lawyers, musicians or doctors, nor should it apply to artists.
Artwork: The quad of images above is formed of artwork done by the artists who wrote this article; top left—Alan M. Clark, top right—Jill Bauman, bottom left—Chad Savage, and bottom right—Steven C. Gilberts.
Alan M. Clark’s Advice for Aspiring Illustrators, Part 4
Working Freelance as an Illustrator
Many of us see the prospect of being a self-employed artist as a great adventure. As young artists we often develop both a glowing, idealistic picture of what it is like to work freelance, and quite a lot of dread that in the pursuit we might become just another cog in someone else’s creative wheel. These aren’t unreasonable ideas. The reality is that working for oneself is as tough or tougher than any other job—and job it is, love it or not. I had my share of unrealistic assumptions when I started out. Much of those assumptions and quite a bit of concern on my part revolved around the issue of creative freedom.
If a client is paying me to be creative, they want to feel confident they’re making a good investment. Therefore I must give my client a very good idea what they are paying for. At the same time, I must do this before I actually produce and deliver the final product to protect myself from having done a lot of work that might not be right for the client. At the very least, a client will want to see a sketch of what the finished artwork will look like. Some will want more preliminary work, possibly several sketches to choose from and then a rough color rendering of the image chosen before the finished work is done.
This “pinning down” of the image can become somewhat mechanical and frustrating. Making that part of the process interesting is entirely up to me, and sometimes that takes some effort if I’m not thrilled with the subject matter. If illustration is to be a creative pursuit, there needs to be sufficient spontaneity and discovery in my process to keep the work fresh and retain my interest in producing it. Many artists have difficulty reconciling the two.
I did too, once upon a time.
As young artists we often become interested in illustration because we see the imagination involved and are fascinated. We too have powerful imaginations and want to express ourselves. We develop our talents and become eager to display our wild imaginings. Entering into the business of illustration, however, we find that the look of our work is subject to the whims of art directors or editors. Sometimes, instead of feeling grateful that we are being paid to use our talents, we feel our artistic integrity is at risk.
I felt this way too, at first.
But just what are we talking about here? Could it be that once we produce a piece of work that is not entirely our own conception, we lose sight of our goals? Will our artistic vision be so compromised by the experience that we must wander the earth thereafter as broken imaginations, wasted talents, having become artists who have lost our grip on our own thoughts, feelings and convictions?
Hell no!
I discovered early on that illustration is just a job or rather a whole string of jobs. As a freelance artist, I can take what jobs I want. If I take a job I don’t like, I’ll complete the work to my client’s satisfaction, but I might not take another like it. It’s my choice. And in the meantime, I have plenty of time to create my own work, pieces of art that come exclusively from my own imagination, products of my own thoughts, feeling and convictions.
So when working with a publisher I show a willingness to work with them. It is not likely that my client would want me to do something completely outside my comfort zone, say, paint Elvis on black velvet or something—not that there’s anything wrong with that. The client is most likely familiar with my work, and once again, I have a choice of whether or not to take the job. Generally speaking I am chosen for a job by those who like my approach to illustration. This approach is demonstrated in my work—my choice of subject matter, medium and techniques. Therefore my rapport with a client has often begun through the body of my work even before we have met or spoken to one another.
The constraints that come with a job can be liberating, if I choose to see it that way. That is to say that they can liberate me from myself. Economy is not my first priority in creating a piece of artwork, but if a deadline is short, the job doesn’t pay well or I just don’t like the subject matter, I become very economical and deliberate in my approach to the work. I do not want to slight my client by turning in lightweight work, so the artwork must be simple but strong. This can result in pieces that are wonderful because of their simplicity. Working within constraints given by a publisher, I produce work that I would never have discovered any other way. This broadens my horizons, adds to my repertoire of techniques, helps me master new subject matter and hones my design skills.
If I find I really don’t like a job, I work twice as hard to create something I’m proud of so I don’t look back on the experience with bitterness. Most of the time I get jobs for which my work is well suited. A willingness to try new things has taken my work in exciting new directions.
I’ve learned not to fear reactions to my work—there will always be criticisms and rejections. To relinquish some control while working with another artist or art director is a chance worth taking. I have accepted that once my art is placed before an audience, it is no longer entirely my own.
Artwork: “Sideshow Surgery” copyright © 2005 Alan M. Clark. I threw painting in just to have a piece of artwork with this post. I chose it because it is a display of my wild imaginings. “Pin up” for Robert Steven Rhine’s graphic novel, Satan’s 3 Ring Circus of Hell, published by Asylum Press.
—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon
Alan M. Clark grew up in Tennessee in a house full of bones and old medical books. He has created illustrations for hundreds of books, including works of fiction of various genre, non-fiction, textbooks, young adult fiction, and childrens books. Awards for his illustration work include the World Fantasy Award and four Chesley Awards. He is the author of 12 books, including six novels, a lavishly illustrated novella, four collections of fiction, and a nonfiction full-color book of his artwork. His latest novel A PARLIAMENT OF CROWS was published by Lazy Fascist Press in the fall of 2012. Mr. Clark’s company, IFD Publishing, has released six traditional books and seventeen ebooks by such authors as F. Paul Wilson, Elizabeth Engstrom, and Jeremy Robert Johnson. Alan M. Clark and his wife, Melody, live in Oregon. http://www.alanmclark.com
Alan M. Clark’s Advice for Aspiring Illustrators, Part 3
Perceived Value
A key issue when trying to sell your artwork and artistic abilities is PERCEIVED VALUE. (On this issue, I will at first speak the obvious, but bear with me, please.) Artwork has no monetary value until someone gives it value. The one who produces a piece of artwork most often assigns the value, but that doesn’t necessarily mean much. Often, the value of a piece of art is arrived at only when someone agrees with the artist on a price and pays it. Still, that price may not be agreeable to another, and therefore the artwork is not a good investment for possible future sale. Artists like to think their artwork is sold to people who buy it because they like it, not as an investment, and while it is true that most people do buy what they like, frequently, often wrongly, the buyer also thinks that the piece carries a particular value they might need to cash in on in the future.
Perceived value is the collective response to your work by an audience, big or small, generally a community of some size, a fan base; those who attend a venue or enjoy a genre or a particular type of product in which or with which your artwork is associated and seen. You know your abilities are valuable, but there are people all around us with their very own valuable artistic skills and in order for yours to have high value, they must stand out in some way. The more people who see your work as having high value, the more you will be paid for it.
Exposure helps. Get your work out there. Early in your career it may cost you something to do that, but think of it as an investment in the perceived value of your work. Show samples to buyers, whether commercial or private, take part in art shows, competitions, etc…
The buying public, whether it is a company or individual, wants to know that you’re consistent and reliable at what you do. A one hit wonder, or someone who occasionally squirts out a little artistic genius on their own time will not earn the kind of respect that garners ongoing success. Work for people while working for yourself. Be prolific. Reinvent yourself regularly, but don’t drop the old you when doing so. Strive for distinctiveness in your work so that you are not replaceable. Hook up with those who are putting out products or events that are highly regarded or involve other highly regarded artists, writers, and products, for the high perceived value of those colleagues and products will rub off a little on you and your work. Strive to knock the socks off of your clients and their/your audience even if it takes more effort than you’re getting paid for. Sell your original work, as the sale of your work speaks volumes to others about the desirability of it. When you’re just starting out, lower the prices you’re willing to take, sometimes to ridiculously low levels, just to make the sale. Again, consider this an investment in the perceived value of your work.
The image with this post is an acrylic painting I did in 1985, the first year I was a full-time freelance illustrator. Not much really—an afternoon’s worth of work, maybe six inches tall, by twelve wide—it was one of umpteen quick, small pieces I did to show and sell cheap at science fiction conventions that year. Just starting out in freelance illustration at the time, I was struggling to get work and exposure, so I would entered this piece, and many others like it, in the convention art shows’ silent auctions with a minimum bid of twenty-five dollars. My hope was that it would get a couple of bids, and therefore have to go to the voice auction where artwork was paraded around by runners who showed the pieces to those bidding. That way, my piece of art would get more exposure. It may have gone up in price during the voice auction or it may have sold for twenty-five dollars in the art show’s silent auction—I don’t remember. My goal was to have the highest profile sales of my artwork at as many conventions in as many cities as I could, with the hope that by the next year, folks would know me and my artwork a bit. I sold sixty-four pieces of art at conventions all over the country that year and my income was pitiful, but by the next year, my artwork was commanding higher prices and people were talking about my work.
Artwork: “Adolescent Spacecraft” copyright © 1985 Alan M. Clark
—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon
Alan M. Clark’s Advice for Aspiring Illustrators, Part 2
If there is a company you want to work for, try to make an appointment with the art director (in some cases this will be an editor or even the publisher) and go see that person so they can look you in the eye and see that you are the sort of person who can get the job done. Make sure before going to all this trouble that you are the sort of person who can get the job done.
If you can’t go see an art director or their submission policies don’t allow it, send samples, either digital files via email or hard copy—read their submission guidelines to find out what they allow or communicate with the art director and ask. For magazines, guidelines are usually in the first few pages. For books, you can find guidelines in books like The Artist’s Market and The Literary Market Place or on the publisher’s website.
If you get in to see an art director, don’t run your mouth. Be patient. Let the artwork speak for you. Make sure your artwork can speak for you.
And that reminds me—there are other things that speak volumes about us, like the way we act, the way we look, and conduct business. Be dependable, punctual, responsible. Always meet deadlines or at the very least let your client know when you might be a little late. Don’t take work you can’t get done by the deadline. Try to take all work that comes your way—you might never see any again. Take a chance on trying things you never thought you’d do—it’s just a job and you’ll survive it—and you might find your way into something new and different for which your personality and skills are perfectly suited. (This takes a non-begrudging, generous mind set. Those who enjoy feeling sorry for themselves need not apply.)
I was one with a heaping helping of self-pity, a slob, a drunk, a procrastinator, but fear of working in a convenience market or, say, the men’s department at J. C. Penney or on an assembly line somewhere forced me to change and helped me to get organized.
The image with this post is one I created for the first portfolio I showed to art directors in New York in 1985. Fantastic Planet Books picked it up this year for the cover of One and Wonder, edited by Piers Anthony.
Artwork: “A View of Enverlez” copyright © 1984 Alan M. Clark
—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon
Alan M. Clark’s Advice for Aspiring Illustrators, Part 1
This is the first of a series of articles I’ll offer on Bizarro Central on advice for finding illustration work. The advice I’ll offer is largely based on advice given to me that worked. I’m not an authority. I am talking about my experience. Everyone’s experience is going to be different. I’ve been a freelance illustrator for almost thirty years now. These articles will include the sort of advice I’d give myself if I had a time machine and could go back and talk to the Alan Clark who was just starting out thirty years ago. Since then the landscape of the illustration field has changed a lot, but I will talk a bit about what I believe still works.
My education is in fine art, so to learn about the illustration business, I went to science fiction, fantasy, and horror conventions and spoke to the professional illustrators who were guests of the conventions. Illustrators are generally very generous with information about the business. I learned how to prepare a portfolio, who to try to see and how to approach them. I learned of work that was being assigned and how artists were chosen for the assignments. I learned about the difficulties of getting work without having had work—artists are notoriously flaky so art directors have all been bitten more than twice. I learned how to be the sort of artist an art director might take a chance on. I learned how illustrators made sure art directors and editor knew about them, their availability and dependability, and how to maintain a presence to avoid being forgotten. These days an art director might be a publisher, editor or even the author of a book.
Portfolios
There’s a lot of good advice out there for building a portfolio. But here I’ll give somewhat unusual but valuable advice given to me about preparing a portfolio:
1) Don’t include samples of anything that you won’t want to be hired regularly to do.
2) Six to ten examples of your art should do the trick. This few signals confidence in your ability to get your skills across to someone. Make sure the pieces you choose do this.
3) Make sure that the work chosen suits the format of the work you’re going after, that it’s tailored to the market you are showing the work to. If you are wanting book cover work, produce samples that look like book covers, ones that are the right shape and have a low contrast area where text might be placed. Don’t put text on the images. The low contrast area should not be one of no interest, but instead an area where text would look comfortable and where whatever was underneath the text would not look awkward.
4) If you produce work that is generic in nature, it might be purchase by an art directorto be used on something for which it is appropriate. For instance, in science fiction novels that include space ships, the ships are often not describe vividly, so a painting with a space ship in it would make a good cover. A novel with Vampires in it could use a generic vampire image. A fantasy with a dragon could use a dragon image and so on. Don’t put lots of extra subject matter in these pieces or they will begin to tell stories that might argue with the novel for which they might be purchased. Although these pieces are generic, they should be produced with distinctive style, strong compositions and incredible color. With tear sheets from these sales, a portfolio looks like it belongs to an artist an art director trusted with an assignment, getting you past the problem of not being able to get work unless you’ve had work. Art directors seeing the work in the portfolio do not know that the work wasn’t done on assignment. This is how I got in the door.
The image with this post is my first paperback book cover, a generic space ship piece bought from my portfolio by Tor Books for Le. E. Modesitt’s The Silent Warrior. I had been working full time in illustration for three years when the book came out, but had had little success in getting work with any consistency until after this. I got the advice for doing generic covers from David Hartwell.
Artwork: “Trilobite Returns to Helvoran” copyright © 1986 Alan M. Clark
—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon
Bizarro Event: Bizarro Hour at Knockbox Cafe- Round II
An hour so bizarro that it lasts two hours! Featuring weird performances, readings, comedy and music. Free!
Friday April 19th 7PM @ The Knockbox Cafe 1001 N. California Ave., Chicago, Illinois
Performances and readings by:
Michael Allen Rose (Author of Party Wolves in My Skull)
Justin Grimbol (Author of The Crud Masters)
MP Johnson (Author of The After-Life Story of Pork Knuckles Malone)
Michael Kazepis
Dahlia Fatale
KaCee Hudson
Andrea de Fonseca
Music by Jeff Arndt (From the band Mommy Sez No)
Hosted by good time gal Kristin Ryan
And of course, craft roasted coffee and espresso!
Dilation Exercise 79
In an effort to promote my new novel, A PARLIAMENT OF CROWS, released by Lazy Fascist Press, I created the Dilation Exercise below to expand the story beyond the end of the novel. This week’s exercise works with last week’s. The novel is inspired by the three infamous Wardlaw sisters.
Need a further explanation? Go to Imagination Workout—The Dilation Exercises.
By the time Vertiline had given up the search for Mary, Carolee had taken a terrible toll on the innocent, and by all signs, her deadly activity stretched far into the future.
Weary and reconciled to her existence ending in shame and failure, Vertiline tried to lie down and be still, but the wind gave her feathers life, picked her and sent her flying onward, ever doomed to witness the murderous career she had helped to shape.
Artwork: “Portents” copyright © 2008 Alan M. Clark. Cover art for Portents edited by Al Sarrantonio, published by Flying Fox Publishers.
Captions are original to this post and have nothing to do with the literary project with which the artwork first appeared.
—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon
Dilation Exercise 78
In an effort to promote my new novel, A PARLIAMENT OF CROWS, released by Lazy Fascist Press, I created the Dilation Exercise below to expand the story beyond the end of the novel. The novel is inspired by the three infamous Wardlaw sisters.
Need a further explanation? Go to Imagination Workout—The Dilation Exercises.
When Vertiline found herself in the cemetery, she realized she was dead.
If Mary had also become a crow after death, and Vertiline could find her, she had an idea for how they might end their sister, Carolee’s, reign of terror.
Artwork: “A familiar Crow” copyright © 2008 Alan M. Clark. Cover art for VINTAGE SOULS by David Niall Wilson, published by Five Star.
Captions are original to this post and have nothing to do with the literary project with which the artwork first appeared.
—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon
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“Jeremy Robert Johnson’s novella of the apocalypse is a supremely weird reading experience, sitting somewhere between Chuck Palahniuk and John Wyndham. Extinction Journals is a hybrid, a mutant child of 1950′s paranoia and contemporary dystopia. Bleak, funny, apocalyptic and affecting, it stays with you long after you’ve finished it.”–THE ZONE (UK)
Unicorn Battle Squad by Kirsten Alene
Mutant unicorns. A palace with a thousand human legs. The most powerful army on the planet. A first world city on the verge of collapse.
In a city where teetering skyscrapers block out the sky, a city populated by lowly clerks, rumors have been circulating of a terror in the east. When Carl, the lowliest clerk on the negative twelfth floor, discovers that the city is indeed in grave danger, he sets out to warn the city’s protectors: the Unicorn Riders.
Although Carl’s missing father has left him a unicorn of his own, it is a small and sickly creature. Even worse, there is a crab claw growing from its side. But the Unicorn Riders need as much help as they can get, and soon every able rider sets out for the city’s flooded perimeter in a steam-powered Spanish galleon.
An epic journey that spans desert and sea, through the bedchambers of a fearsome Eastern queen, and into the devastation of a conquered city, Unicorn Battle Squad is the story of a boy and his unicorn at the end of the world.
Die You Doughnut Bastards by Cameron Pierce
In Die You Doughnut Bastards, amputees, lonely young people, and talking animals struggle for survival against the freakish whims of nature. A typewriter made of fetuses is the source of woe for an expecting couple. Tao Lin rewrites The Human Centipede 2. A girl with a glass jaw hides an otherworldly secret. A demonic loner goes to a birthday party in Hell. You’ll encounter a killer in a marsupial mask, a prison for anorexics, haunted pancakes, and a songwriter with a cult following.
Surreal prose poems give way to personal accounts of alienation and modern love. Vegetarian narwhals are sold at the supermarket. And in a city that might be your own, zombie doughnuts are rising up. Kill yourself before they kill you. Or just kill yourself.
Featuring original illustrations in the style of Daniel Johnston, Die You Doughnut Bastards is the latest way to drown, brought to you by Wonderland Book Award-winning author Cameron Pierce.
Art is the Devil by John Skipp
When two young badass women stop by an insane Charlie Sheen-based art exhibit, their night of mind-warping horror is only beginning. Splatterpunk legend John Skipp delivers the high-voltage hardcore thrills in this outrageous, bodacious short story.
OUT NOW: Thunderpussy
Hi, kids. Do you like the seedy underground world of international treachery? Do you wish your shoes were phones and your inkpen shot lasers? Are you dangling from a ceiling somewhere trying to steal famous jewels? Well even this doesn’t apply to you, you’ll still be happy to know that my new book THUNDERPUSSY is now available from Eraserhead Press.
So before a squad of sexy ninjas burst into your room to thwart you, head to Amazon and show Agent 00X some love. This blog post will self-destruct in five seconds (so hurry!).
Dilation Exercise 76
Below you’ll find Alan M. Clark’s weekly Dilation Exercise. Please look at the picture, read the caption, above and below the image, and allow your imagination to go to work on it. If the artwork inspires an idea, please use the comment feature to tell us something about it. Need a further explanation? Go to Imagination Workout—The Dilation Exercises.
Alister married his dead half-sister, and their first night together was some weird kind of hell.
Despite her claim that they helped her to sleep, he thought her collection of stuffed animals was the most unusual he had ever seen.
Artwork: “The Mind Wanders” copyright © 1992 Alan M. Clark. Inspired by the painting, Gary A. Braunbeck wrote the story, “The Sisterhood of Plain-Faced Women.” The artwork first appeared as cover art for Gary A. Baunbeck’s collection,Things Left Behind, published by Cemetery Dance Publications, which included the story. The image appeared as an interior illustration along with the story in the anthology, IMAGINATION FULLY DILATED, VOLUME II, edited by Elizabeth Engstrom, published by IFD Publishing. The image also appears as an interior (appears in black & white) in SIREN PROMISED by Jeremy Robert Johnson and Alan M. Clark, published by Swallowdown Press.
Captions are original to this post and have nothing to do with the literary project with which the artwork first appeared.
—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon
Dilation Exercise 75
In an effort to promote my new novel, A PARLIAMENT OF CROWS, released by Lazy Fascist Press, I created the Dilation Exercise below using an excerpt from the story. The novel is inspired by the three infamous Wardlaw sisters.
As the flames raced down his body, engulfing him entirely, Carolee got behind him with the damp mop and used the implement to shove him out of the carriage house.
Reeling and screaming, he ran out onto the campus lawn, fell to the ground, and died in a gurgling, writhing, blackening heap.
Artwork: “Ash of a Boy (revised and colorized)” copyright © 2006 Alan M. Clark. In it’s original monochrome form, this image was the cover art for Dark Discoveries Magazine – Issue #10 and appeared in the interior of the magazine as an illustration to the short story,”Scare Tactics,” by Eric Witchey.
Captions are original to this post and have nothing to do with the literary project with which the artwork first appeared.
—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon
Dilation Exercise 73
In an effort to promote my new novel, A PARLIAMENT OF CROWS, released by Lazy Fascist Press, I created the Dilation Exercise below. The novel is inspired by the three infamous Wardlaw sisters.
When they were all young, Vertiline’s miscreant twin sisters frequently succeeded in avoiding punishment by remaining silent and thereby creating a confusion of identity.
Now that they were adults and their larger crimes might raise suspicions, Vertiline employed something like the twins’ early tactic, insisting that she and her sisters continuously wear mourning clothes.
Artwork: “The Twins in Black” copyright © 2012 Alan M. Clark.
—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon
Dilation Exercise 72
In an effort to promote my new novel, A PARLIAMENT OF CROWS, released on Halloween by Lazy Fascist Press, I’ve created a Dilation Exercise to help promote the book. The historical fiction novel is inspired by the life and crimes of the three infamous Wardlaw sisters. This Dilation Exercise is inspired by a courtroom scene in the novel.
The prosecutor turned to Vertiline and said, “Are you asking us to believe, Miss Mortlow, that the additional suicide notes, seemingly one for every occasion, apparently written in your handwriting and found among your effects in a house devoid of writing implements and ink, were in fact penned by the deceased who was at the time bedridden in your care?”
Vertiline took a quick, panicked breath before responding, knowing the jury would never believe her answer.
Artwork: “Original Sin” copyright © 1992 Alan M. Clark. Revised version of an interior illustration for Asimov’s Science Fiction, appearing with the novelette, “Original Sin,” by Phillip C. Jennings.
Captions are original to this post and have nothing to do with the literary project with which the artwork first appeared.
—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon
Writing the Human Experience: Guest Blogger Molly Tanzer on her Debut, A Pretty Mouth
(With Molly Tanzer’s permission, I have copied here her guest blog post from my Imagination Fully Dilated Blog. If you’d like to see her post on my blog, here’s a link. In her post, there’s a link to her blog where you can read my part of our exchange. —Alan M. Clark)
I asked Alan Clark about the possibility of doing a blog-exchange to give readers (and 
potential readers) some insight into our most recent works—my debut, A Pretty Mouth, and his 5th novel, A Parliament of Crows. He graciously agreed, so huzzah! Today, you can read my post on his blog—actually, I guess you already are—and his on mine.
I specifically asked Alan about doing a blog exchange because his 5th novel, Of Thimble and Threat, was one of the best books I read last year. Oh, and his latest has a bit of overlap with mine. (Alan talks about this very thing over on my blog, so that’s another reason to go read it!)
I read Thimble because our mutual publisher, Cameron Pierce, sent me an ARC. He thought I would like it, and I did, I did indeed. It’s a wonderful book, perfectly appealing to avid readers of genre and those who prefer straight literary/historical fiction. It also had the effect of forcing me to ratchet up my game for Mouth. I knew if I was going to be published side-by-side with Alan I needed to get real and start taking things seriously. It was extremely intimidating, but in that way that gets me excited about a challenge. (That said, if Cameron had sent me Parliament, I might have just thrown in the towel and given up on writing. Yeah, it’s that good.)
Anyways, blog exchange! As it turned out, I got the easy job. Alan wrote his piece first, and I liked it so much I decided to just riff off his. Which, if you must know, is pretty much how I wrote the largest chunk of A Pretty Mouth. More on that after a brilliant quote from Alan’s post that I found so inspiring:
“… The period a writer chooses for a story will define the characters in it to some extent. Obviously, some experiences we have today are not possible for characters set within a time, say, 100 or 500 years ago. This can present real limitations unless the writer is willing to learn about the period and really open up the character’s world, discover the possibilities, and share that with the reading audience. … No matter the period, the emotional characteristics of human beings are just as subtle and complex as those of human beings today. The everyday realities and events that shape their feelings and motivations can be very different, however. In creating characters, I try to take advantage of the similarities and the differences, setting up parallels and contrasts with what we know today to express something about human experience.”
That’s Alan for you. Saying pretty much everything there is to say on a subject, and more concisely than I, perhaps especially, could ever dream of doing. I mean, read Of Thimble and Threat and tell me there’s more to write on the fourth victim of Jack the Ripper. (I mean, his introduction to the book was shocking in its simplicity, honesty, and wisdom.)
I suppose the above quote struck me in particular, because it’s talking about exactly what I wanted to do with the biggest portion of A Pretty Mouth, which, depending on what you want to call it, is a novel told in parts, or a collection of related short stories. You see, the title novella is a (hopefully) witty Restoration comedy re-envisioned as an 80s teen sex romp.
Huh? What? Yeah, I know. I figured I was going buck-wild with genre in the book anyways, so why not have a “school story” kind of thing? I love school stories, always have. But how do you write something realistic and fresh about school experience when writing about a educational system long gone?
Wadham College, in 1660, was an interesting community of intellectuals, half middle/high school, half university. Boys from 12 years old were required to take courses in Astronomy, Physics, Logic, and Latin; older students attended more college-style classes, as we might think of them. Girls were not allowed. In fact, at that time the only female servant employed by the college was the laundress, who was required by the statutes to be older (and lower-class) as to not distract the students. And she was only allowed to come to the gate of the college, lest her presence inflame the boys’ passions. Kind of hard to stage a panty raid, or whatever, under those circumstances, you know?
And yet, when you read Restoration-era texts—let’s say, for example, the poetry of John Wilmot, the novels/plays of Aphra Behn, or the diary of Samuel Pepys—it’s obvious that some things haven’t changed that much. Worrying over things like popularity, academic performance, uncertainty over one’s future, all those concerns existed then, as they do now. So I hoped to exploit those similarities to make an unusual setting familiar.
Now, my stuff is more anachronistic than Alan’s, deliberately so. Alan’s the kind of writer who shocks you with the horror of reality; I’m the kind of writer who thinks it’s funny when 17th century schoolboys say things like “Busted!” and, I dunno, “motherfucker.” Which let me walk that line between historical drama and 80s comedy.
Maybe. I say that, but you, dear reader, must be the judge of that.
Terrible Twins and Their Easter Eggs
I met Molly Tanzer online after she read and commented on my historical fiction novel, Of Thimble and Threat: The Life of a Jack the Ripper Victim. This year Molly and I discovered that we were both writing within historical settings, and we agreed to serve as readers for each others’ developing work. Both Molly’s book, A Pretty Mouth, and my novel, A Parliament of Crows, are historical fiction since they are inspired by real events within history. Both books tell dark, disturbing tales, hers an erotic horror, mine a southern gothic. Both were released by Lazy Fascist Press this fall. A Pretty Mouth is sort of a novel in short and long fiction set in England during several different periods, much of it in the 1600s, and A Parliament of Crows is set in various locations within the United States between the time of the American Civil War and the end of the first decade of the twentieth century.
The fun of writing within historical settings is that it’s a bit like time travel. The period a writer chooses for a story will define the characters in it to some extent. Obviously, some experiences we have today are not possible for characters set within a time, say, 100 or 500 years ago. This can present real limitations unless the writer is willing to learn about the period and really open up the character’s world, discover the possibilities, and share that with the reading audience. That’s the time travel I’m talking about. No matter the period, the emotional characteristics of human beings are just as subtle and complex as those of human beings today. The everyday realities and events that shape their feelings and motivations can be very different, however. In creating characters, I try to take advantage of the similarities and the differences, setting up parallels and contrasts with what we know today to express something about human experience. If done right, a reader gets to time-travel too, experiencing a long lost world through the eyes of a character they can understand emotionally, even if the character’s feelings and outlook are shaped by a different time.
A Pretty Mouth was so well realized that it sent me back in time, and allowed me to view a bizarre and terrifying world through the eyes of fascinating, very human characters.
Another thing Molly and I discovered about our writing this year was that both of us were writing about twins. A Pretty Mouth has a supernatural genetic line of evil twins. My novel, A Parliament of Crows, has one set of evil twins whose connection to one another has a supernatural aspect. I thought my twins could use a hint of long, dark genetic history, and suggested to Molly that we might create a connection. Adding more evil twins to her character’s lineage was desirable to her, so she agreed to creating a tiny link between the projects with one or two sentences in each. To get there, we traded messages via facebook “chat,” looking for a solution that was both minimal, but undeniable. I had fun, and I think she did as well. I could almost hear her laughing in her messages. The lines we added had to be of a sort that would not confuse and would not distract a reader from the story at hand, but would be an Easter egg for those who read both books. I’m curious to see who will be the first to notice.
—Alan M. Clark
Dilation Exercise 71
This week, my Dilation Exercise came about in an unusual way. I’ve been doing covers for P. A. Douglas, his novels released by Severed Press, Hitchers, The Dark Man, and Killer Koala Bears from Another Dimension. He recently hired me to come up with an image and two lines of text to go with it that would inspire his next novel. Basically, he wanted a Dilation Exercise. His only other instruction was that it be in the vein of the Cthulhu Mythos. I told him I’d do it if I could use the image and text as a Dilation Exercise here on Bizarro Central—see below. Visit P. A. Douglas’s Blog, Indie Inside, to read more about it.
Please look at the picture, read the caption, above and below the image, and allow your imagination to go to work on it. If the artwork inspires an idea, please use the comment feature to tell us something about it. Need a further explanation? Go to Imagination Workout—The Dilation Exercises. Oh, and by the way, Happy Halloween!
After an aeon of dreaming up mayhem for the sentient toys she so loved and hated, the Old One awoke with a roar, worried that she had pushed chaos too far.
Had her latest nightmare, a delightful excursion into a zombie apocalypse, destroyed all human beings or might she find enough survivors tucked away in defensible positions that her collection could be rebuilt and the games continue?
Artwork: “Her Broken Toys” copyright © 2012 Alan M. Clark. Cover art for an as yet untitled forthcoming novel by P. A. Douglas.
Captions are original to this post and may have nothing to do with the literary project with which the artwork will appear.
—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon
Dilation Exercise 70
Below you’ll find Alan M. Clark’s weekly Dilation Exercise. Please look at the picture, read the caption, above and below the image, and allow your imagination to go to work on it. If the artwork inspires an idea, please use the comment feature to tell us something about it. Need a further explanation? Go to Imagination Workout—The Dilation Exercises.
At first the deformed pumpkins gathered only to defend one another against the children who would smash them.
But when one of the pumpkins was carved into a jack o’lantern, the misshapen gourds suddenly had a charismatic leader with a vision for their future, and thus began their scheming for world domination.
Artwork: “Orangefield” copyright © 2002 Alan M. Clark. Cover art for Orangefield, by Al Sarrantonio, published by Cemetery Dance Publications.
Captions are original to this post and have nothing to do with the literary project with which the artwork first appeared.
—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon
Dilation Exercise 69
Below you’ll find Alan M. Clark’s weekly Dilation Exercise. Please look at the picture, read the caption, above and below the image, and allow your imagination to go to work on it. If the artwork inspires an idea, please use the comment feature to tell us something about it. Need a further explanation? Go to Imagination Workout—The Dilation Exercises.
Hidden among the costumed children on Halloween night, he went from house to house, looking for the perfect party, one where he might bring the decorations to life, force the guests to carve “gourds” of his choosing or play his games, like Razor-Apple Bobbing and Touch the Parts of the Real Corpse.
His treats were the demented tricks he played on smug humans, and his delight at the way they went kicking and screaming to their demise was enough to keep him nourished until October of the next year.
Artwork: “Halloween Man” copyright © 1995 Alan M. Clark. Cover art for Night Shapes, by William F. Nolan, published by Cemetery Dance Publications.
Captions are original to this post and have nothing to do with the literary project with which the artwork first appeared.
—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon
Dlation Exercise 68
Below you’ll find Alan M. Clark’s weekly Dilation Exercise. Please look at the picture, read the caption, above and below the image, and allow your imagination to go to work on it. If the artwork inspires an idea, please use the comment feature to tell us something about it. Need a further explanation? Go to Imagination Workout—The Dilation Exercises.
The scarecrow got a new head every October, and with it came new thoughts and desires that lasted until the gourd rotted.
Usually these notions were harmless cravings for sweets and running free in the night unsupervised, but this year the boy who carved the head had been watching a horror movie while he worked, and that turned out to be pure inspiration for the scarecrow.
Artwork: “Hallows Eve” copyright © 2003 Alan M. Clark. Cover art for Hallows Eve, by Al Sarrantonio, published by Cemetery Dance Publications.
Captions are original to this post and have nothing to do with the literary project with which the artwork first appeared.
—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon
Dilation Exercise 67
Below you’ll find Alan M. Clark’s weekly Dilation Exercise. Please look at the picture, read the caption, above and below the image, and allow your imagination to go to work on it. If the artwork inspires an idea, please use the comment feature to tell us something about it. Need a further explanation? Go to Imagination Workout—The Dilation Exercises.
The lure of the big city was irresistible, but I knew I’d have to become tougher if I were going to go there and make something of my life.
If I survived while others were chewed up and spit out, it would be because I was boney and the texture of my flesh was undesirable.
Artwork: “City Fishing” copyright © 2000 Alan M. Clark. Cover art for CITY FISHING, by Steve Rasnic Tem, published by Silver Salamander Press.
Captions are original to this post and have nothing to do with the literary project with which the artwork first appeared.
—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon
Dilation Exercise 66
Below you’ll find Alan M. Clark’s weekly Dilation Exercise. Please look at the picture, read the caption, above and below the image, and allow your imagination to go to work on it. If the artwork inspires an idea, please use the comment feature to tell us something about it. Need a further explanation? Go to Imagination Workout—The Dilation Exercises.
The citizens of the city loved and hated the giant, suffering his dramatic moods along with him.
During his down time, the citizens left him to suffer for his excesses and took the opportunity to rebuild, but inevitably they became bored and looked forward with eagerness and dread to the time when he might rise up again.
Artwork: “Self Respect” copyright © 2005 Alan M. Clark. Cover concept for music CD, CURE FOR THE COMMON CATASTROPHE, by the band Pipers Stone.
Captions are original to this post and have nothing to do with the literary project with which the artwork first appeared.
—Alan M. Clark
Eugene, Oregon
