Let’s Just Add to the Stress-Heap, Shall We? GRAPHIC NOVEL IN-THE-WORKS
As if I wasn’t grumpy enough due to concerns about the upcoming book-trailer and audiobook adaptations of my Rowan Blaize series (recently launched by the lovely Brightbourne folk), to say nothing of the fourth installment arriving in October, but the decision has pretty much been made to begin work on a full-scale graphic novel adaptation of Book One. Okay: I’d like very much to go to sleep now and wake up in about a year. Or two.
It’s not that the idea for a graphic novel adaptation comes as some sort of surprise; the possibility has been on the table from the very beginning. There is little question that the epic narrative verse format of Book One lends itself deliciously to a graphic novel rendering, and I have always been excited by the notion of one day seeing a treatment of such scope for my determined wizard and his coterie of fabulous confreres. Rowan’s various adventures and perils and bizarre acquaintances in Book One deserve that kind of “life,” but I always figured that someone else would do the artwork for such a massive project, seeing as I accomplished the fun-but-backbreaking task of lavishly illustrating the current edition of the book.
A collaborator is not in the cards, however. At least, not in this particular hand. In some ways I am now figuring that this might be for the best. As it is still very early in the introduction of the Rowan Blaize character to the reading public, perhaps it is wisest for the preservation of the story’s authentic spirit if I tackle the monumental exposition of illuminating the entire manuscript on my own.
We shall soon see, because work begins in a few days. To be honest, I am excited. I got that “inner flicker” when the go-ahead was given. (It could have been last night’s lentil salad, to be honest.) The whole thing is probably going to flatten me, but the vision I’m getting is considerably awe-inspiring, and that is a good sign. A very good sign indeed. I’ll keep everyone posted while I still have fingers to type with. Before they become scabbed and festering stumps due to endless nights of meticulous craftsmanship at the drafting table.
At least I got to get outside on a fabulous California coastal afternoon and play some tennis today. That’s me in the photo. Too bad I won’t get to do that again for a year.