Category: comics

  • curse of strahd

    My Dungeons and Dragons character is a really fragile bard with a really low wisdom score. I’ve started keeping a tally in my notebook of all the times he’s reached zero hit points.

    We’re playing the module with a vampire in it.

    • An illustration using a vintage sci fi colour palette. It’s of a purple tiefling in a frilly shirt doing a deep and flamboyant bow and saying, “Prince Strahd, I think we’ve got off on the wrong foot.”
    • Text reads, “But it was the right foot after all.” A motley D&D party reacts with horror and anger at a vampire (it’s Strahd) slurping the life juices out of the purple tiefling like he’s draining a Capri Sun. Homoerotic? Yes. In one hand, a fistful of tiefling hair. In the other hand, a glass of purple wine (“wine”?). The tiefling is swooning dramatically. In the final panel, the vampire wipes his mouth and tosses the unconscious tiefling aside as the party reacts with “gasp!” And “you little bitch!!”

  • hourly comics day 2022

    Hourly Comics Day is an annual comics event on the first day of February where a bunch of cartoonists make journal comics about what they got up to each hour of the day. I love it. It’s the most wonderful time of the year!

    2022 was a bit of a challenge to turn into a story because I took my public holiday (from working through January 26) with the plan of working on my graphic novel all day… which turned out to be not what I got to do.

    • Comic reads: it didn’t get below 25 degrees all night. I check my phone at 4am, disgruntled. Then, 5am, Peony, a cat, wakes us up. “No,” “why!” And at 6am, then her brother. He’s a small black cat who says, “wrow? Wrow?” Over and over. 7am: Gideon, the third cat, elects to cuddle. I say, “aw, hey bud,” while reading tweets. Then I feed the cats (“wrow, wrow, wrow,” “yeah, I know,”) and coffee and cereal while I think, “I feel like I’m forgetting something today.”
    • 8am, Charlie has to go to work. He says, “have a good hourly comics day” and I say “you, too.” He says “mean!! I don’t get the day off” while his shirt reads, “I’d rather be playing God of War (2018).” Sorry, Charlie. I took my spare public holiday today so I could work on my book… (the colours of the comic inverse, so I’m white lines on a black background). “Oh my god. I forgot to do the acquittal for my book grant.” Shower, while thinking “oh no oh no” while surrounded by the creative Victoria logo. Then the same spiral while watering the plants. But Josie, our neighbour, says: you need to pick the tomatoes!” I say, “you’re right.” Josie: “get a bowl!” And there is neighbour gossip while I pick tomatoes.
    • 10am, hourlies on the couch. “Hmm.” I am thinking if I can make these into a zine for Festival of the Photocopier. 11am, hourlies, but now more ergonomically at my desk. And then, with inverted black and white again, I internally scream over the text of my grant acquittal as I work at the computer. 12 pm, the same, until—“oh. Time to go for lunch.” I go to meet Laura and Isy. Laura is a wheelchair user who is wearing a dress. Isy is walking and has thick curly hair.
    • Heading to lunch, Laura says “what have you been reading?” and I launch into a long winded spiel that isn’t written out in its entirety as she and Isy listen. I pause. My friends are very patient with me. Over lunch we talk about houses and family and work, and then I sneakily pay for all our food while my friends are distracted. On learning what I’ve done, Laura yells “ableist!” and chases me down with turbo mode on her new powerchair. I go from laughing to saying “oh shit!!”
    • 3pm, we all have a calming cup of tea. Then Laura has to go back to work, and I say “I should go work on my grant.” Isy says “of course”… and then we talk for an hour about fiction. At 5pm, worrying about my grant acquittal, I walk home to a podcast, pausing only for a quick pasta purchase. 6pm hourlies, and then… black and white inverse. I scream internally and say, “these questions don’t apply to me!”
    • Tweet for help. “How do I answer questions like ‘how many people showed up’ help me.” Then I eat some chips for strengths and feed the cats, stewing: “man, I haven’t gotten to work on my book at all today because of this gosh dang grant acquittal,” Black and white inverses again. ???pm. Maybe food helped. I type furiously while my third eye opens, and then note, “also, emotionally, I have just given up.” I balance the budget. Then, declaring “I am! Spiritually depleted!” I hit send. I flop forwards on my desk, radiating a black cloud, as I receive the confirmation email.
    • 7:30 pm, Charlie is home. A cat meows offscreen as I say, “he’s lying! I fed em!” And Charlie leans into the room to say, “how was your day?” My third eye comes back and I issue a black cloud. 8pm, we eat pasta and watch the main character of Pushing Daisies, Lee Pace’s eyebrows. Then, 9pm. “it’s time!” Charlie says, game controller in hand, as his shirt reads “I am currently playing God of War 2018.” He cackles on top of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, the top of which reads “god of war 2018.” I reflect, “I love to see a boy boss winning.”
    • Charlie is in Gideon’s evening couch spot. The black cat glowers at him. 10pm: the bad night’s sleep is catching up with me. I write alt text on my iPad, grumpily. My iPad says “low power” and I say “me too, iPad. Me too.” Time to read a book in bed. I chortle delightedly as I read Gap Year in Ghost Town. Then, at 11pm, with absolute horror, I realise I’ve spelt acquittal wrong for my entire day……….. Time for bed. Good night!

  • hourly comics day 2021

    Hourly Comics Day is an annual comics event on the first day of February where a bunch of cartoonists make journal comics about what they got up to each hour of the day. I love it. It’s the most wonderful time of the year!

    I love Hourly Comics Day because it makes me think about autobiographical storytelling and about what I put in and what I keep out. 2021 presented a particular challenge because of the pandemic! I was still working from home, and although Melbourne wasn’t technically in lockdown, everyone was on edge because we knew we could end up going into one at any time. I was so used to my monotonous daily routine that trying to figure out how to make it interesting for an audience was REALLY CHALLENGING—but it’s given me something to look back on!

    • A comic half in black (in the dark) and half in white for the daytime. The dark portion reads, “??? AM, Peony has found a toy.” There’s a loud jingling sound as cartoony drawings of me and my partner look tired and wide awake in bed. The next panel shows Peony, a small cat with an upside down love heart white splotch on her nose, knocks a jingling ball down the side of the bed. I catch it and hide it, and when she looks offended I just say, “sorry.” “7 am.” I slap my alarm and say “nope”, cutting the sound off. “7:30 am” I am looking at my phone (it reads Tweets) and a small black kitten sits on the bed. Text reads, “there is a kitten standing on my butt.” The last panel says “I have an ADHD Moment TM, and try to multi task cereal and dishes.” Standing with a glove on one hand and a bowl of cereal in the other, I say, “Wait a second... these are two-hand jobs.”
    • 8 am. “I’m rereading the Murderbot books again.” I am reading with a cup of tea in my hand, surrounded by love hearts. “Charlie goes to work.” Offscreen, a speech bubble says, “have a good day!” as Charlie, radiating ornery displeasure, says “shan’t!!” The next panel shows me in the shower staring at nothing, as I say “hm. Fantasy novels”. It says “recently, I have been nostalgic about old projects.” Next panel is a suburban street that I walk down in sunglasses. Text reads “Walk time.” 9 am. “Walking back to log onto work”. I look grumpy. “My hourlies are not going to be very exciting this year. I’m sad I don’t get to draw pride stuff and friends!” The next panel shows a sad couple walking a child to a dark door labelled “gender clinic”. Text reads, “cup of tea and a 9:30 start. I have a flyer in my inbox from a homophobic parents group about the conversion therapy ban bill. As someone who escaped conversion therapy, it kinda sucks.” I take a sip of tea and say “gross”.
    • 10 am: we’re running a conference this year and everyone is already stressed. “We need a brand—“ me, taking notes: “yup,” 11 am: we’re also running a much sooner event, which— “also needs a brand.” Me, looking nervous, sweating: “uh huh!” 12 pm: “I’m taking lunch” message to the work chat, “I say, and immediately forget to take lunch.” I scoop cat litter while holding back a meowing cat. Then, “Finally got to the dishes.” I do the dishes while looking tired. My phone plays a podcast. Then my eyes go wide and water flies from my gloves as I remember LUNCH! The next panel shows a sandwich labelled “low effort toastie. ADHD. gold star. 1 pm: “trying to lock in the calendar dates for the HEY meetings” as I look dizzily at dates and times and three different calendars.
    • 1 pm: moving pixels around. I am graphic designing and looking a bit infuriated. 2 pm: I’m still at it. The same panel repeats but with More Emotion. “Obi barfs up a hairball.” A cat sits next to a speech bubble reading, “gross, dude.” I mop up the hairball as the cat watches and say, “thanks for the break though.” 3 pm: “okay, this is something!” I say, looking at my computer triumphantly. Text says “Feelin better about these layouts.” 4 pm: more of the same. I slam the enter key on my keyboard and an email envelope down the bottom of the panel reads “send it.” 5 pm: “this event design looks too much like 2019’s design” is written over a sketchy indesign layout. 5:30 pm: Peony the cat walks across the desk, putting her whole tail on my face. It’s labelled The Dinner Parade. The next panel shows how much of the screen I can see past peony (none) and says, “time to log off.”
    • 6 pm: doing hourlies and writing alt text for them. A picture of me drawing and saying “uh oh, I was boring,” Do I read my book? (Kindle screen reads “tempting sci fi”) or work on my book? (I look apprehensively at my laptop, which says “hey”) Peace on earth: the three cats all eat. I sit on the couch with Gideon the cat. “I’m up to a real tricky bit I’m my script.” Charlie is home. He pats a purring Peony and says “baby.” 7 pm: graphic novel! Three puppets say, “I am pursuing a goal single-mindedly!” “I have unrequited feelings for you!” And “I am a homophobic dad!” I hold up the last puppet and say “I figured out why this is a tricky bit!” The bad dad puppet in my hand says, “dig deep into those traumatic memories, kid!” As I say “ew.” As I draw the panel beforehand I say “ah, any excuse to draw a puppet.” 8 pm: good dinner! Community, yum cha, and fried rice! These are all drawn by a different person. Below, I say “my wrist was starting to hurt. Charlie draws my comics now.”
    • 9 pm: “Gideon is so cute!” I brush him energetically as he wriggles and sticks his tongue out. Then he bites me. “This checks out.” Gossip Girl! Xoxo! Charlie and I clutch our faces excitedly and beam at the TV. “I hope the reboot features a nonbinary who is an absolutely awful person. Uh oh...I’m just inventing Gossip Girl OCs.” 10 pm: these girls love gossip! April sent her hourlies. I laugh at my phone and say “hehe... Calamity Gabon.” Whenever we watch this sorta TV we just end up... Charlie yelling “Peg him!!” and me next to him yelling “just peg him!” Then the colours invert to show its well into night time. “Hourlies. I’m still thinking about my bad dad scene. White woman maths gif.” I’m surrounded by triangles and algebras. “Except for homophobic dialogue.” 11 pm: Time for BED! I spread my arms wide and enthusiastically, wearing a cat tshirt and undies. “That’s a lie... I’m gonna read more murderbot.” Good night!

  • we have three cats

    • Me, a white nonbinary twink with short brown hair, asleep in bed. A fluffy black and white cat approaches as I sleep, sits by my ear, and then meows very loudly, waking me instantly