I'm not a big fan of posting reviews of my work. Figure if I post the good ones, I should maybe give equal time to the bad ones, right?

Well, I'm breaking my rule. These two reviews, in particular, of mercuryeric's and my last issue of Checkmate, are ones I feel worth sharing. This first one, from IGN, and this one from Hannibal Tabu at CBR.

The ComicBloc chat tonight was terrific, and lasted four hours, with short breaks for Eric and myself. Something that Eric and I are hoping to do again when Final Crisis: Resist hits the stands.

So, this story has been slowly escalating over the last week. Abkhazia, South Ossetia, and this...I'm really hoping I won't have to tag a disclaimer on the new novel saying "This was before the war."

And in entertainment news, the new Bond film is having consistent car trouble.

I'm leaving for Calgary at oh-dark-thirty tomorrow morning, to attend the Calgary Comic Expo. I've heard nothing but good things about this show from everyone I know who's ever attended it, and I'm quite looking forward to it. Hoping to score some Avatar: The Last Airbender swag for the kids, maybe a sketch or two.

Of course, this means I'll be missing the Stumptown Comics Fest for the second year in a row, which means, once more, I'll be out of town while Matthew Southworth is actually here. I'm getting a little worried that he thinks I'm avoiding him.

Last note -- Checkmate chat with meself and mercuryeric at ComicBloc tonight, don't forget!

Solicits came out today for DC's May books. If'n you're the kind what's interested in this kind of thing, you can find them posted at Newsarama. If you scroll WAAAAY down, you'll find the listing for Checkmate #26. And you will note that it is written by Bruce Jones, and that it is illustrated by Manuel Garcia (who, incidentally, did a fantastic job with the art on Five Books of Blood #5, which is out tomorrow).

All of this is a bass-ackwards way of confirming for all and sundry -- those of you that care, that is -- that, yes, Checkmate #25 is the last issue for Joe Bennet, mercuryeric, and myself.

So as there's no confusion about this, I was not removed from the book. I decided that #25 would be my final issue on the title at least a year ago, and informed DC Editorial of my decision shortly thereafter. Since then, I've tried to arrange things such that my departure would leave the book in as strong a position as possible, and headed in the direction I thought best. Ultimately, however, the choice on who takes over the book is DC's, and not mine.

Mine and Eric's final arc will be "Castling," beginning with issue #23 and ending with issue #25. We think it's some of the best work we've done on the title, and, hey, it finally -- finally! -- reveals the identity of the Rooks! I firmly believe we're going out strong, and I hope you'll all continue to read it, and that you'll share our opinion if you do.

Family's down with a cold, which is another example of bad timing, as we're supposed to head to Anaheim (and fair warning, you follow this link, you'll need a) insulin, and b) to turn down the volume) on Thursday for a Family Get-Together to celebrate my sister's 40th birthday. Hopefully, all bugs will pass before we have to travel.

Finished one script today -- can't talk about it -- and working on squaring away the last of Checkmate 24 tomorrow, so mercuryeric and I can get started on #25 ASAP.

And in other news, I finished my first play-through of Mass Effect this evening. Very good, if flawed, game. I suspect I'll indulge in a long-winded review at some point in the next week or so.

This is for all you deputized Whiteside Pawns out there:

Report to the ComicBloc and check your pms. WKB requires immediate response.

Those Pawns who have already responded, you may disregard this communication.

As you were....

Back from the California Adventure, which consisted of three days in Fresno with Jen's family. Came back home a couple days ago to an empty house, as she and the kids stayed to linger with her father, sister, and her sister's kids. Christmas is not my holiday, and while I appreciate elements of the pageantry, and can enjoy a well-decorated Christmas tree as much as the next bloke, it still remains very much Not My Holiday.

But all that's beside the point at the moment. Quiet house means I get to do what I want, when I want, how I want (what the late Spalding Gray would've referred to as a "naughty treat"). This has mostly manifested in alternately writing and catching up on the Netflix pile that's been sitting and waiting for the last three months, which should tell you just about everything you need to know about my schedule. Watched Owning Mahowny, Ratatouille, and the last of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies. Enjoyed them in pretty much reverse order, there, from least to most. Really thought Ratatouille was lovely, and it hit my mushy buttons pretty well in that patented Disney-can-make-you-cry-in-the-first-five-minutes-if-we-want-to fashion.

Owning Mahowny was great, and if you're interested in such unsolicited recommendations, here's mine -- see it. Philip Seymour Hoffman is fantastic. I've quite liked him in the little that I've seen of him before, but this one sealed the deal -- the man kicks ass. Now I'm looking forward to Charlie Wilson's War even more than I was before.

Got another one or two I'd like to watch today, but we'll see. I'm in the last 24 hours, here, and I suppose I should use the time to nail down as much of the next issue of Stumptown as possible, as the current fire on Checkmate is out, for the moment. More news on that front in the next couple weeks, I expect.

Finished Crime Bible issue 5 today. Checkmate pages tomorrow. Whiteout pages to follow.

I feel much better now, thank you for asking. :D

Well, it took them a week, and far too many phone calls from me, but my laptop was returned to me today, and better, it works.

Which is an enormous relief.

This was far more of an ordeal for me than it should've been, but honest to God, I am a techkiller, and I specialize in computers. There are times when, seriously, it seems that all I have to do is think an unkind thought in the rough direction of a desktop or laptop, and the machine goes gleefully tits up. I own, at this moment, no less than three computers, and during the last week, I was reduced to using my wife's laptop because the others were either 1) broken, 2) so unreliable as to be broken, or 3) entirely absent, ie, undergoing repair.

Until about 18 months ago, I was a dedicated PC user, having defected after selling my first novel. Why did I defect? Because I wanted to play games, and the games I wanted to play were only available on the PC. That was the reason. That was the whole damn reason.

And for that reason, I put up with All Things Microsoft, and, more, things of Dell and Gateway homebrews and -- yes, I admit it -- Alienware -- and time and again the machines went tits up on me. Motherboards died, memory fried, hard drives failed, you name it, it happened.

Which lead, inevitably, to tech support. Hours and hours spent in the loving, tender, caring embrace of tech support.

(As an aside, Trautmann was down here for the last two days, and mentioned in passing that, apparently, folks in Seattle spent something in the neighborhood of 45 plus hours in traffic during their commutes. That's a full 40-hour work week plus five for lunches. I think, honestly, I've spent twice that much time on hold with tech support in the last 10 years.)

So, when my last primary laptop was stolen, I heeded the advice of my peers and my bride and my friends, and I went to the Apple Store and I bought myself a nice, straightforward MacBook Pro. And, not being a fool, I bought myself Pro Care, because, hey, I look at these machines, and they self-destruct.

And I have to say, the laptop did what it was supposed to do, and did it well, and so what if it was making a strange kind of wheezing noise that was gradually growing louder and louder and...wait a minute, I've got Pro Care, I get priority service, I get a yearly tune-up, I'm bringing my laptop in for a service.

"You'll have it back in 24 hours. Forty-eight hours at the most."

Well...no, actually. Forty-eight hours, that's two days. It took seven days. So, no, not really forty-eight hours, and the thing is that I went with a Mac precisely to avoid this kind of thing.

Now, the ironic thing. That full week? That's still about twice as fast, on average, as it took Alienware to deal with any of the multiple things that went wrong with their machines, and Alienware was apparently known for their stellar tech support, at least at the time.

Irony number two, ready for it? Got the laptop home, moved my files off of my bride's machine, booted up iTunes to sync my iPod...and the iPod doesn't work. (And yes, I've tried doing this.)

BUT...I have my laptop back, the work that I did manage to get completed this week is work that I'm proud of, and to celebrate the fact, I'm going to post more art.

First, from the second issue of The Crime Bible: The Five Books of Blood, "The Lesson of Lust"--

And now a teaser by Chris Samnee--

Enjoy!

So, after much frustration, I think I may have figured out how to use Scrapbook.

To celebrate this fact, and since I'm about to knock off for the night, and since much of the day was spent on both Checkmate and The Crime Bible: The Five Books of Blood, I thought that maybe I'd share some sketches and the like.

This first is a Tom Mandrake design sketch of The Question.






And this is a Jesus Saiz page from Issue 2, "The Lesson of Lust."






And over on the Checkmate front, this is a sketch by Chris Samnee.






I may post more of these type things here later. And before people go flying off the handle about anything, please remember the difference between a sketch and finished art, and the difference between loose pencils and final inks.

Odd.

Feels like I've been taking it on the chin in the last 18 hours or so, though in perspective, I suppose, it all balances out. All the more strange given that Seattle was a terrific trip. Great people, great events, lots of books signed, and even managed to drop in on Zanadu Comics in downtown, which was bonus. Was driven around town by a lovely lady named Gail who -- unlike handlers in the past -- could not only carry on an intelligent conversation, but was personable, funny, and eager to chase down bookstores, booksellers, and *gasp!* copies of my book. So all in all, not bad. Interesting to note that in almost every store I dropped-in on, there was at least one person on staff who was a comics fan and knew my work from that, if not from the novels.

Got home around midnight and got to catch up with Jen, who all-but blurted out that the Willamette Weekly had panned the novel, and then advised people to not attend my event at Powell's in Beaverton on the 10th. This may be hearsay, as I haven't read the review (and I'm not going to), but when Jen blurts, it's because she's been carrying something around and building up steam with it, so I'm inclined to believe what I'm told. Apparently, the review is so off base, there's some question as to whether or not the woman who wrote it actually could be bothered to read the book in the first place.

Nice to get respect in one's own town.

Seems there's a tirade over my treatment of Sasha on scans_daily coming out of the "CheckOut" storyline, and including her behavior in Checkmate 16. Apparently I've turned into a sexist bastard and didn't get the memo. "This would never happen to Batman." No shit. Batman isn't infested by nanobots and being examined by a madman vivisectionist. Doctor Mid-Nite asks if she was sexually assaulted, and that's a problem? Why, because it acknowledges that rape is a crime that happens? Would it have been more honest to simply pretend it wasn't a possibility, rather than treat the scene with maturity, and have Sasha answer and confirm that, no, she wasn't? Or is the problem that I dared broach it at all, that "there's no room in comics for that kind of thing"? Or is it because the fact that women are the victims of rape far more often than men are is something that we'd rather just all ignore? People read for what they want to read, I guess, rather than reading what was written.

The one thing I can remotely agree with is the "don't look at me" line. It is supposed to be a "weak" line; she's been through hell, and no one particularly likes to look weak in front of their peers, especially one you've been romantically involved with.

I am a feminist. Part of what that means to me is that I'm going to be as mean and brutal to my female characters as I am to my male characters. That's parity. The women can take the hits just as hard as the men. The implication that I'm harder on Sasha because she's female is bullshit; further, it implies that I shouldn't be hard on her because she's female, which, in my book, would be sexist. That's the same as saying that I took Carrie's fingers in Whiteout because I'm sexist, rather than, say, because she's the hero of the story and her fingers were terminally frost-bitten.

I've yet to encounter anyone ever call me sexist because -- Spoiler Warning for those who may not have read the following:

I tortured Atticus, or because I killed Scott Fowler, or Rubin Febres, or Crispus Allen.

The list of the vile deeds I've perpetrated on male characters in fiction is legion, certainly much longer than the list of like cruelty I've rained down upon female characters. But no one has ever told me to lay off the guys. No one, at least not to my face, as accused me of "hating the men-folk." (Though I'm sure there's at least a half-dozen out there.)

I am reminded of an editor at Marvel telling me that a certain well-regarded (and outspokenly conservative, and, in my opinion, reactionary and sexist) writer/artist felt I was a chauvinist who hated women because of my treatment of Elektra. It's the same thing here again -- this double-standard that says female characters should be allowed only highs, and not lows; that they should be spared harm, and treated with kid gloves. When we say that we have to treat women differently than we treat men, when we ignore the social realities of what it means to be female versus what it means to be male, that's sexism, kids. We live in a world where women are treated worse than men -- where they are abused and attacked and degraded on the basis of their gender alone. It's wrong, and it's vile, and it's evil, but it's the truth, and refusing to recognize the same in fiction leads to dishonest fiction, and that's bad writing.

The extension of such thinking leads to stories with black characters that never acknowledge racism, to stories with Jewish characters that never acknowledge Antisemitism, to gay characters that never deal with homophobia. Think that through. These are elements that comprise character; they are not character alone. Saying Renee Montoya is gay is true, but hardly the point -- it's simply part of who she is. Saying John Henry Irons is black is true, but again, part of who he is. But for both of those characters, it influences their identity, it is part of who they are. It cannot be ignored; when it is relevant to their stories, it must be acknowledged -- otherwise, the fantasy that is their fiction(s) becomes, in my eyes, hollow and irrelevant.

I'm sure I'm rising to the bait here, so to speak, and I should leave well-enough alone. Too late for that, I guess.

Now take all of that, and add to it that I just spent nearly two and a half hours on the phone with Andrew Farago doing an interview for the Comics Journal that pretty much covered everything I've ever done. Very fine time, and he was a great interviewer. I'm looking forward to meeting him in person when he comes up to Portland for Stumptown Comics Fest. No idea when -- or even if -- the interview will run, but it'll be interesting to read it when it does come out.

Like I said, strange day thus far. We'll see where the afternoon leads. Working on Checkmate 21 with Trautmann at the moment. Let's see if I can't piss somebody else off, shall we? ;)