First attempt at a graphic novel - a lesson in irony, but an outlet for insanity.

A while back we were assigned a graphic novel project in my 2D Narration class. The coolest part of it was that a representative from Forbidden Planet, the comic shop, was to come to the crits and choose one (later decided to be two) novels to be published/featured by Forbidden Planet. I was extremely excited, not only because it was a great opportunity in general, but because since I was eight I've wanted to be a cartoonist (more newspaper strips than book form, but regardless.) I grew up reading the comics ever since I learned how to read; my favorite artists (of art in general) include Bill Watterson, Wiley, Frank Cho, and others who really took comic strips to a different level.

Of course, this automatically set me in perfectionist mode. I agonized over this bloody thing, and went through about 3 story ideas. Besides this, as luck would have it, I've been sick the majority of the semester (which has driven me quite literally crazy for more than a few reasons, as some people know.) Not only did this make this even more mentally difficult, but it put me behind in the actual work.

Come the weekend before the due date, and (though still not very far along) I throw out my idea and begin a new one, slightly autobiographical but not completely. I managed to salvage some of my previous drawings for use with the new idea, and it did allow me to shorten the finished length at least. So that+having 3 other projects due in the same day/day following+already being behind in everything from playing catchup+new painkilling meds that make me drowsy= insanely large amounts of caffeine to keep me up for 3 days straight, and STILL I couldn't get it in in time because printers are stupid, and what I had was kinda shit anyhow. Then, after my body gave out, finally, and after my weeklong mental breakdown, I decided that what is late might as well be damn good, so I tweaked the story, made the images better, and came out with something I was, in the end, fairly satisfied with. The reason for this diatribe is to explain the immense love-hatred I feel towards said final product..... which can be found here:

http://a.nnotate.com/docs/2009-04-25/ZVGLCXX7/Fevers_Full.pdf

(Be patient, it's a large file and takes time to load.)

I'm a bit of a traditionalist when it comes to illustrating/cartooning, in that I'm not really one for digital work. So I hand-drew and watercolored every image and scanned them all in, altering just to try to match the original and integrate into the page sometimes, rather than computer-draw or color. I did make my own handwriting font for the text (SO cool!), mainly for the legibility's sake. As far as the story, like I said before, it is semi-autobiographical (though my image/surroundings were mainly for easy access to reference when drawing).... I decided to channel some of the shit that's been making me more-that-normally erratic and delusional into a cryptic and embellished confessional of sorts. Because these very crazies kept blocking me from finishing other storylines.
It's much better viewed in it's print form, as I intended..... I printed it on toned parchment, so it has a certain feel, and the way the pages lay together and the actual act of reading a book are more connected to the effect than reading off a screenfile. But anyhow, give me feedback n'such.... thanks mucho-ly.