A couple of days ago, Melissa and I received galley proofs of the book we co-wrote, The Everything Guide to Writing Graphic Novels. Although I’m not quite plugging the book yet, I will say that it covers just about everything anybody needs to know about producing a comic/graphic novel, from the art to distribution.

I worked in the comics field fairly steadily for about eight years. Then came the crash of 1993-94. After the implosion, like a lot of comics professionals I was pretty much left without a field in which to work.

Publishers went out of business by the dozens and comics shops closed by the thousands. However, at that point in time, the comics form had become so ghettoized it wasn’t a particularly enjoyable or interesting field any longer. Everyone and everything attached to it seemed to stink of desperation and greed.

A short time later I became a novelist and created the Outlanders series and after ten plus years, I think I can say it has been fairly successful.

I maintain one of the reasons it succeeded is because I applied a number of my comics storytelling principles to prose—larger than life characters, colorful settings, big world-threatening plots, a loose epic sweep, continuing subplots and of course, super-villains--who even if they didn’t wear costumes, would still have been worthy of joining the Victor Von Doom/Lex Luthor fraternity.

 In the spring of 1997, a couple of months before the release of the first Outlanders novel, Exile to Hell, I suggested to my then-editor Eva that perhaps Gold Eagle should consider having a presence at the upcoming San Diego Comics Con to promote their line of books. I knew that most SF publishers exhibited their wares there.

According to her, the response from the higher-ups, although not contemptuous was certainly patronizing…something along the lines of: “Heh-heh-heh…that’s not our audience.”

When I asked that if attendees at a mega comics and SF convention wasn’t the audience for book series about postnuke warriors, reborn Sumerian gods, ninja killers, and a Sinanju-trained assassin, then who could it possibly be, she didn’t have an answer.

Okay. What-Evuh.

As Outlanders continued over the next few years, it was confided to me that some folks up at Gold Eagle never cared for the series because of the comic-book sensibilities I brought to it. There were way too many SF concepts and such like...but how an SF series could have too many SF concepts is about perplexing a question as how an SF convention wasn’t the place to promote SF books.

But I digress.

From what I gathered, my credentials as a mere comics writer weren’t considered as legitimate as those of someone who wrote novels tied-in to RPGs and TV shows (significantly, my extensive background as a journalist, newspaper and magazine columnist and suit-and-tie-advertising copywriter never seemed to be addressed).

Anyway, I decided it was best to downplay my involvement in writing comics. Shame and all of that because I had once worked in the ghetto of "funny books", you know.

So, let’s jump ahead a few years. 

 With not quite the suddenness of a thunderbolt, but due in large part to the monstrous success of blockbusters like the Spider-Man films, comics are no longer slouching through the ghetto but struttin’ around in penthouse suites. Rigged out in the shiny new dust-jackets of graphic novels, comics are now the hot, must-be-seen-with item.

 Also all of sudden, a new marketing department at Gold Eagle experienced a “Eureka!”-like epiphany and realized that hey—comics and SF conventions are indeed the place they ought to be and so they loaded up the truck and moved to San Diego-ee …comics con, that is.

Gosh, imagine what would have happened if somebody had clued in GE  ten years ago about representing their wares at the SDCC—oh, wait. Never mind.

Anyhow, last winter Melissa and I were contracted to produce a book about this brand-spanking new form of storytelling and thus came The Everything Guide to Writing Graphic Novels.

Then something interesting began to occur. Through attending various writer’s conferences (including the ginormous Book Expo America) I learned that my background as a comics creator was viewed as far sexier than that of a regular ol’ raggedy prose novelist.

Writers of my acquaintance who had never shown the slightest interest in my comics work (except maybe a condescending smirk) began asking me to show them how to write a comic script, how to break into comics, what’s the difference between a splash and a double-page spread?

Although there’s quite the ironical moral in the above chronicle, I don’t think I have to belabor the point. Even Aesop would probably shake his head in weary exasperation and say something along the lines of what goes around comes around and offer an admonition to appreciate what you’ve got and that sort of thing. So naw…I wouldn’t belabor it.

Not yet, anyway.

The other day on the Graphic Audio forum, I saw a comment referring to Outlanders as “DL (Deathlands) for grownups.”

In many ways, the BBC TV series, Torchwood is “Doctor Who for grownups.”

At this point I’ve only seen the first five episodes (“Small Worlds” aired last night on BBCAmerica) and I have to say that Torchwood is excellent, compelling and to some extent, irritating.

For those of you who aren’t familiar with either Doctor Who or Torchwood—the latter series is about a team of paranormal investigators. The organization traces its roots back to the 19^th century and a very hostile encounter between The Doctor and Queen Victoria. In fact, "Torchwood" is an anagram of "Doctor Who."

The Torchwood Institute as depicted in the series of the same name is actually the third incarnation of the organization and follows the scaled-down branch based in Cardiff, Wales.

Thematically, it’s similar to The X-Files (and even Men In Black), but in execution it’s very different from that series or for that matter, anything else that’s on TV, although it bears a strong resemblance to various comic book features, like Challengers of the Unknown, Night Force, Planetary…and hey, even my own Miskatonic Project.

Like Doctor Who, Torchwood is very theatrical in its style of story-telling, edging the top but not quite going over it. Whereas X-Files often focused on mood rather than movement, Torchwood is fast, vivid, frenetic and frequently frantic.

The acting is usually top-notch, although the Welsh brogue makes some of the dialogue a bit hard for our Yankee ears to easily understand.

The leader of the group is a mysterious and apparently immortal American by the name of Captain Jack Harkness, who was first introduced in the Doctor Who episode, “The Empty Child.”

I find Captain Harkness rather an insubstantial leader. He’s a compelling character in of himself, but he acts like one of the gang most of the time, joking around and trading good-natured insults.

But when a crisis erupts, he starts yelling orders—which often are vociferously challenged by Gwen Cooper, the newest member of Torchwood. The viewer doesn’t know Jack or Gwen quite well enough yet to know who is the most likely to be in the right.

I’m hoping a few more levels will be added to Jack’s character in upcoming episodes. The “Small Worlds” segment indicated that there might be, depicting Jack’s enduring affection for a woman he had loved during WWII

However, those quibbles aside…Torchwood is a very imaginative series and surprisingly the plots are driven by emotion rather than simply facing the alien or paranormal threat of the week.

There are a lot of nice, understated touches to the series format…although a secret organization with an underground headquarters, the local pizza shop knows Torchwood’s address because it makes frequent deliveries there.

Some of the alien tech in storage is “borrowed” by Torchwood members for their own selfish uses.

Jack Harkness still wears his WWII era greatcoat and carries an old Webley revolver when he has all sorts of state-of-the-art weapons available for his use.

The Wales setting is interesting, too…very nice and unusual visuals. Cardiff looks like a unique city.

And judging by the episodes I’ve seen, the way the Torchwood team deals with the insanity of their jobs is to minimize how mad it all is, by treating it and themselves with self-deprecating senses of humor.

Although, it’s early yet, I’ve yet to see the series following a standard formula. So far, each episode has been very different from the preceding, even constrained by the paranormal investigator parameters.

The writing is crisp, witty and intelligent, not talking down to the audience or expecting them to accept “butt-pulled” explanations because the writer couldn’t think of anything else by deadline.

For example “Small Worlds” dealt with the so-called “fairy phenomenon” by following the nature spirits/elementals thesis (with a nod to the famous Cottingley photographs), but taking it one step further and imbuing it with the frightening implication that we still don’t know the true history of our planet or of the human race.

Also, the special effects are excellent, albeit understated.

Overall, I’m far more impressed with Torchwood than I am by most of the current crop of American television SF and I look forward to future episodes, including the ones that feature Doctor Who's Martha Jones (who for my money, is a far more competent and likable character than Rose Tyler).

If you haven’t seen Torchwood yet because you don’t receive BBCAmerica, I understand the first season will be available on DVD around Christmas.