Joseph Nassise

A few months ago, I ran into some difficulty while neck deep in a particular writing project. My deadline was looming and I was going nowhere fast. Day after day I would sit down at the computer and beat my head against the wall, trying but repeatedly failing to drag forth the requisite pages that needed to be written that day.

It wasn’t due to a lack of organization. I had a detailed outline in front of me. The action and emotional impact in each chapter was scripted out and I even knew from which character’s viewpoint the scene would be written. I was excited about what was to come; the scenes were well constructed and drove the story forward at a decent pace, the characters were interesting and unusual. I was perhaps better prepared to write that book than any other I had written previously.

And I had long since passed the point where I could write only when “inspired” to do so. My muse had long ago been hunted down, captured, and chained to the demands of a professional writer’s schedule – you write when you need to write, not when you “feel” like writing. Writing when inspired was for sissies. I was a professional, damn it!

But it was not to be. Day after day I struggled, producing, on a GOOD day, about one fifth of my usual output and that only after hours of painful effort. The bad days weren’t even worth talking about.

As the time passed and the lines through the days on the calendar made it increasingly obvious to me that I either needed to do something drastic or shoot myself, I made a decision.

It was time for a change.

For years I have written in the quiet confines of my office, my trusty desktop with its 20 inch monitor my only companion. Music was a big no-no; too often I would find myself typing the lyrics to the songs I was listening to rather than the words of my tale and even purely instrumental numbers were a problem as I could get lost in the notes as easily as the lyrics.

To shake things up, I purposely changed everything I could think to change. Rather than work at my desktop, I would use the laptop. Rather than sit in my comfortable leather chair, I would use one made of hardwood without a seat cushion. Rather than work in the privacy of my office, I would go to the library or the deli or the local Starbucks. immerse myself in noise and people. Rather than create in silence, I would graft headphones to my ears and submerge myself in pulse-pounding and bass-cranking music if necessary.

Imagine my surprise when it worked.

The words that I had struggled so hard to find poured effortlessly from my fingertips in the midst of that Starbucks, an iced vente mocha frappuccino at my side. The action sequences that had seemed so scripted and flat previously now jumped to life while the words and music of Nickelback pounded in my ears. My output shot up to my usual levels and then kept going, until I discovered that I could write faster and with better results than I ever had before – all because I took a chance and changed the usual way I did things.

Is something in your life stuck? Are you getting frustrated by your inability to make a change?

Then step outside the problem. Come at it from a totally different direction. Take your usual process and turn it 180 degrees in the other direction.

Change your perspective – you might be surprised at the results.

I know I was.

Face it. The first five pages (sometimes the first five sentences) are going to make or break your book. They will be the first pages that a prospective agent or editor will read. Later, once the book gets picked up, they will be the first pages that a prospective book buyer will read.

So how do you make those five pages, and the rest of the beginning of the book, so good that the editor, agent, or prospective reader wants to keep reading?

A good beginning must do six things:

1) Hook the reader

2) Establish a bond with the Lead and the reader

3) Present the story world

4) Establish the general tone of the novel

5) Introduce the opposition

6) Get the reader to keep reading

Let’s take them one at a time.

Read more…

I wanted to talk this month about Middles and offer some advice on how to keep yours from sagging.

No, I’m not talking about belly fat. That’s a different blog. I’m talking about the middle of your book, the place where you have the greatest chance of screwing up and losing your reader.

Nine times out of ten, if you are going to lose a reader, it will be in the middle of the book, in that long, seemingly endless stretch that ties your terrific beginning to your fabulous ending. Think about it – how often do you put down a book in the first ten pages? How about with only ten pages to go? Not often, I’d wager. But think about all those books that you got a third, or even halfway, through, only to lose interest. You put it down and move on to something else. Why is that? And how do you keep it from happening with one of your own works?

The middle of the book is essentially a series of scenes that ties the set-up you created in the beginning with the result you’ve devised for the ending. It must be designed specifically to keep the reader moving forward inexorably toward that ending. If it bogs down, loses cohesiveness, or otherwise fails to achieve its objective, you run the risk of losing the reader. And that’s a cardinal sin.

What keeps a reader reading, what keeps them invested in your story, is their desire to see the Lead outwit/outfight/outthink the opposition and reach their goal What gives them the emotional experience they crave is the conflict between the opposition and the lead in pursuit of that goal.

The Opposition

The opposition does not have to be a person. It can be an organization, a group, a force of nature, whatever. Nor does it have to be evil. It simply needs a compelling reason to stop the Lead. The more compelling the reason, the harder the opposition will work. The harder the opposition works, the more difficult it gets for the Lead to succeed, which in turn produces more drama.

The Glue

Along with the opposition, the other crucial ingredient is the reason the Lead sticks around, the glue so to speak. If the Lead can simply walk away from the conflict, the reader will wonder why he doesn’t do so. And at that point you’ve already lost the battle. You have to figure out why the Lead (and the opposition for that matter) can’t simply withdraw from the conflict. And you have to make that reason believable.

Writing the middle of your novel will then simply be an exercise in writing various scenes of confrontation, most of which will end up with some kind of setback for the Lead, forcing them to analyze the situation anew and try something else.

But Joe, I hear you ask, how do I keep that from getting boring?

That’s easy. You can stretch the tension, raise the stakes, or do both at the same time.

Stretching the Tension

Simply put, this means to never let a thrilling moment escape with just a whisper. Play it for all its worth. This is one skill Alfred Hitchcock had in spades and is what makes him a master of suspense even now, so many years after this death.

When it comes to stretching the tension, I first ask myself one question – What problem has the potential to lay some serious hurt on my Lead? That forms the raw material of the scene as it gives us something to be tense about. Once I’ve determined that, I can go about stretching it.

James Bell suggests two ways to stretch the tension in his book Plot & Structure – stretch the physical or stretch the emotional.

Physical peril or uncertainty is always a sure fire way to hold a reader’s interest and you can make that bond even stronger by slowing down. Go through the scene beat by beat in your head, as if you are watching a movie. Then write it down, alternating between action, thoughts, dialogue, and description. Milk it for all its worth.

Bell suggests three key questions to ask yourself as you do this:

1. What is the worst thing from the outside that can happen to my character?
2. What is the worst trouble my character can get into in this scene?
3. Have I sufficiently set up the danger for the reader before the scene?

Of course trouble doesn’t always have to be physical. It can be emotional as well. When your character is in the throws of some emotional turmoil, don’t let them down easy! Ratchet things up as much as possible.

To stretch inner tension, ask yourself these questions:

1. What is the worst thing from the inside that can happen to my character?

2. What is the worst information my character can receive?

3. Have I sufficiently set up the depth of emotion for the reader before the scene?

Raising the Stakes

One question any good novelist should constantly be asking themselves is Who cares? In other words – Is this scene I’m writing going to make the reader care about what happens? Is there enough going on to capture the reader’s interest? What does the lead stand to lose if they don’t solve the central problem of the novel? Is that enough? If not, what can I do to change it?

There are three common ways to raise the stakes in your novel. You can raise the physical stakes, raise the inner stakes, or raise the societal stakes.

Raising the physical stakes is probably the easiest. What physical harm can come to my lead? What new threat can be raised against him? What other character can I introduce to make things more difficult? How will this person operate? What will they do to make things difficult for my lead?

Raising the character stakes involves looking at the inner conflict of the lead. This has the added effect of adding more dimension to your novel as well, deepening the story while at the same time raising the intensity. Ask yourself how things can get more emotionally wrenching for my lead? Is there someone the lead cares about that can be brought in and tied into the trouble? What dark secrets from the lead’s past can be revealed here?

The third way of raising the stakes is to examine the social aspects at play. Is there some major issue my lead is involved in? How can I bring that to the forefront? What complications does that issue add to the mix?

Easy Fixes

If you find that your middle is lagging, here are some suggested ways to help you re-energize it:

1. Analyze the stakes – what can I do to ratchet up the tension?

2. Strengthen the glue – what can make the conflict more compelling?

3. Add another layer of complication – how do I make things more difficult?

4. Add another character – who else might have a role to play here?

5. Add another subplot – what other plot thread might shore things up?

6. Push through it – is it the writing or just me?

While suggestions 1-5 are self-explanatory, I did want to say something about #6. There is often a point in writing the novel when you think everything you’ve done to date is just utter crap. For me, that usually happens around page 200 (or 2/3 of the way through the work.) Suddenly the characters suck, the writing sucks, everything sucks. At that point it is time to step away from things and get some perspective – before changing anything!

I’ll usually take 24 to 48 hours off from writing. I won’t work on the book. I won’t look at the book. I’ll even try not to think about the book. I’ll go do something I really enjoy, doing all I can to relax and take it easy. Then, and only then, will I come back and give it another look. Usually by then I’ve gained some perspective. If I still think it sucks, I’ll try to find ways to fix it and at that point my subconscious usually has had enough time to figure out just what needs to be done.

So there you have it, some tips and techniques for helping you deal with a sagging middle.

Good luck and keep writing!

I was involved in a message board discussion the other day about how I set up a series bible. For those who aren’t familiar with the term, a series bible is a summary of all the information you need to write multiple books (or television shows or films or what-have-you) in the same setting/story world. Since I do the same thing for my stand alone novels as I do for series work, I thought I’d share that process with you all.

The first thing I do is assemble all of my organizational materials into a three ring binder. I use tabbed dividers so that I can find things easily once the project has begun. I usually use the same set of tags on every project – Characters, Setting, Plot, Timeline, Research, Unanswered Questions, and Reminders.

– The Characters section contains all of my character summaries, my back-story notes, and a physical description sheet that allows me to easily reference things like eye color, height, weight, etc. I also make a habit of cutting pictures out of magazines or off the web to remind me of what certain characters might look like and I keep these with my notes for visual cues when it comes time to develop descriptive passages.

– The Setting section contains all of my setting sketches (one page summaries of everything I know about a particular place or setting) as well as any miscellaneous notes I might have lying around discussing how those setting relate to each other. As with my characters, if I have any images that I’ve saved, I put these in the binder as well.

– The Plot section contains my one paragraph, my four paragraph, and my four page plot summaries, as well as my individual scene breakdowns. I think I’ll talk more about these in my next essay.

– The Timeline section contains my spreadsheet mapping out exactly when things happen in the storyline. If I need to keep track of more detailed events (such as the exact timing of some of the events during the murders in my forthcoming novel THE WITCHES’ HAMMER,) I’ll also draw up one page sheets that outline these as well.

– The Research section contains not only my original list of research topics, but also the research itself. When writing my Templar Chronicles trilogy, I wanted my modern extrapolation of the Templar order to be as close to the original as possible, so this section actually grew so large as to necessitate its own binder. Do whatever feels right to you but remember, you shouldn’t be spending so much time researching that you never get around to actually writing!

– The Unanswered Questions is, appropriately enough, full of unanswered questions. These can be specific research issues (also filed in the Research section) or they can be character and/or plot issues that I haven’t yet worked out. Putting them in their own section and making a point to review it every few days keeps me from forgetting to answer them in the manuscript.

– The Reminders section is particularly important. The last thing I want to do is stifle my creativity and forward momentum by constantly going back and fixing things in my first draft. Instead, I keep notes of anything I need to fix, add, delete or otherwise adjust on a legal pad while I write each day and then transfer those pages into my binder when I’m finished each session. That way I know I won’t forget to come back and do them, which in turn allows my creative side to just get on with finishing the rough draft.

Once I’ve got my binder in order, I’m ready to get to work.

Since I write my chapters entirely out of order, this level of detail ahead of time is necessary for me to achieve my goals. I map out each and every book this way, taking one or two months to get it all squared away. The benefit, however, is that the actual writing time is greatly reduced as I’m not trying to figure out where I’m going while in the process of getting there.

So, how do you organize your books?

In 2004, there were roughly 1.2 million books in print.

80% of those books sold fewer than 100 copies.

98% sold fewer than 5000 copies.

Only a few hundred books sold more than 100,000 copies.

About 10 books sold over a million copies.

Still with me?

Haven’t had a heart attack or gone off to commit suicide at the sudden realization that the chances of hitting the big time after selling your book are just slightly above the chances you’ll find a living, breathing Tyrannosaurus Rex living in the bushes of Central Park?

Let’s unpack those numbers a little bit more.

First, I’m using 2004 because, quite frankly, that’s the latest date that I have reliable, reasonably complete numbers to work from. The publishing industry is highly computerized, but getting actual, hardcore numbers from publishers is slightly harder than the seven tasks of Hercules. I do have some data from 2005 and 2006, such as the fact that US book publishing rose roughly 3% between 2005 and 2006 or that the number of juvenile titles dropped more than 10%, but I’m looking at overall English language publishing data and 2004 is the best I’ve got.

Second, a lot of those titles were self-published titles by authors who couldn’t find a traditional advance and royalties paying publisher, so they paid some outfit to print up a bunch of copies for them and had an ISBN slapped on the back. I think it is safe to say that self-published books account for a good chunk of those books that sell less than 100 copies.

Third, it is also important to remember that not all books in print were published in 2004 obviously. In the last few years, the number of books actually published per year is in the neighborhood of 175,000. A book stays in print for a number of years and the sales numbers for a title decline over time. The rest of those titles selling less than 100 copies a year probably fall into this category.

Still, even with those considerations, it is clear that only about 10% of books published in any given year will sell over 5000 copies.

For someone wanting to make their living at writing, that’s a scary number.

It’s also the reason that the vast numbers of writers out there do NOT make a living from their craft. The actual number of writers who support themselves and their families from writing in the US falls at roughly 1 to 2%.

Remember, that’s 1 to 2% of those writers who are being published by traditional advance and royalty paying publishers, not of writers in general. That means it’s a very small number indeed.

But if you’re like me, writing is in the blood and you’d do it even if they didn’t pay you to do so.

So what do those numbers mean to me?

They mean I have to treat writing like a business. Not just in the sense of income and expense, which I don’t always have a lot of control over, but in the things that I can significantly impact day after day.

In the way I plan my time.

In the work habits that I cultivate.

In the projects that I select.

In the people I chose to work with.

In the way I control my rights.

In the hundred other little things I can do to ensure that my career is as successful as I hope to make it.

Five years ago I’d never published a thing. Now I’m in that group of writers who routinely sell more than 5000 copies but less than 100,000 copies of each individual work.

But that’s not good enough for me.

I want to reach that next step. I want to break that 100,000 copy barrier. And the only way to do that is to be as diligent as possible in the way I treat my career.

100,000 copies.

That’s my goal.

I’ll worry about that million copy mark next year.

Last month I started telling you about my recent leap of faith off of a very large cliff. I was searching for my passion, trying to rekindle that desire to write that had launched my career four years earlier. I had discovered that my typical day was extremely lopsided, that the very thing I had been so passionate about was the thing that got the least of my time and attention during the day.

And that let me know why my passion had disappeared. Instead of coming to my writing refreshed and ready to go, I was coming to it exhausted, worn out from a long day of working a 50 hour or more a week job and then spending necessary time with my family. Because of that schedule, my writing went from being a joy to being a chore – something that had to be done only because I was determined to do it.

Recognizing that fact was important. It told me that I had to make some long term decisions about my writing career. Was it really something I wanted to do for the rest of my life? Why did I want to do it? What did I hope to gain out of it? How far was I wiling to go? The scene from Untouchables popped into my head over and over again, the one where Malone (played by Sean Connery) is lying there dying and he grabs Elliot Ness (played by Kevin Costner) by the vest and pulls him in close and asks the fateful question that send Ness on his rampage – “what are you prepared to do?”

What was I prepared to do indeed?

That required some thought. A lot of thought. I wasn’t just making decisions for myself, but was making decisions that would also effect my family. And I had to answer more questions. Did I really think I could do this? Could I achieve the goals I wanted writing what I was currently writing? How long did I think it would take to reach some of those goals? The answers to these questions would radically impact my decision making process.

One thing was clear – if I wanted to make a career at writing, I needed to come to it with my best foot forward, not at the end of the day when I was worn out and exhausted. (And just so no one thinks I didn’t consider this option, the pre-dawn hours had been previously tried as well. Tired is tired, simple as that for me.)

In the end, I had to take a leap of faith. I had to devote serious time to my pursuit of a writing career if I wanted it to succeed. I had to set specific goals with specific deadlines and realistically pursue those goals with everything I had in me. Sounds a bit cold and scientific, doesn’t it? But the truth was that if I wanted my dream I had to pursue it with a bulldog’s determination rather than simply wishing for it to happen one day.

With the full support of my wife and family (and thank God for all of them) I made my choice.

We’d been working toward certain family goals for a while – paying off the credit cards, paying off the car loans, paying for the kids’ private school a year ahead, putting a year’s salary in the bank – and those provided the background for what I intended to do.

Against all conventional wisdom, I took a leap of faith – in myself, in my talent, in my dreams. Sixty days ago I gave my notice – I would be leaving my well-paying day-job and concentrating on my writing career full time for one year. I had 365 days to make my goals become a reality. After all, you can’t walk on water unless you get out of the boat, right?

I had a sixty day notice clause in my contract, so that my sales and management efforts could be handed off without disruption, so I couldn’t leave right away. But the day after making my decision, my writing took off like a rocket. I came to the computer ready to write, dammnit! And I did. In the last sixty days, I’ve written an entire novel. And it’s good – far better than anything I’ve done in the last year or two. Having the time, energy and focus I needed made an incredible difference in my work, just as I had hoped.

Today, Sept 15^th, is my last day on the job.

Tonight the clock starts ticking.

I’ve got 365 days.

And I intend to make the most of them.

After that we’ll see where the road takes me…

When I first started out in this business, writing a book proposal seemed a daunting act. I wasn’t quite sure what exactly it should contain, how much was too much, what tone to take, etc.

While working on a new proposal just the other day, it occurred to me that proposals might be an interesting topic for some of those who read this blog, whatever their experience level might be. So, in today’s essay, we are going to deconstruct my standard proposal format and answer any questions blog readers have on the topic.

First, understand that I typically write the proposal before I write the actual book. That means I don’t have the luxury of having the finished work in front of me to refer to when drafting the proposal and I know going in that the end result might differ slightly from the proposed version. Editors are fine with that, provided you don’t veer too far off course. (In other words, if you sell a book based on your proposal about a modern psychic who solves crimes for the Chicago police department, you’d best not turn in a historical romance novel set in the 13th century.)

Understand that there are no right or wrong ways to create a book proposal – just ways that work and ways that don’t. I’ve sold several books by using the following structure. Since that has worked for me, that’s what I go with. I’m sure there are several hundred other varieties and I suggest that you figure out what works for you and stick with that. (I’d certainly be interested to hear how others do it, if your style varies significantly from mine.)

My proposals are usually broken down into several key components. These are:

Cover Page – The book’s title centered mid page with my contact information centered in the lower portion of the page. (My agent will change this to include his contact information if he is the one doing the submissions, but I let him worry about that when the time comes.)

Basic Info Sheet – This is a single page that gives basic information about the work in question. This includes the type of work (horror, thriller, etc), the target audience, estimated length, completion date, and a one or two sentence concept summary. The latter is often the toughest part to complete in the entire proposal, as it needs to grab the editor’s attention right away. The concept summary for my recent Templar Chronicles series was “Modern-day Templar Knights acting as a secret combat squad for the Vatican, charged with defending mankind from the supernatural foes that surround them.”

Character Summaries – Short concept sketches of the main characters, usually no more than a few sentences. For instance, the summary for Jeremiah Hunt, a character in a novel entitled EYES TO SEE that I am currently shopping around, looks like this…

“Jeremiah Hunt is one of the Gifted, those who, by chance or design, have unique abilities that go beyond the natural. Despite being blind, Jeremiah is a Seer, able to see things remotely through the help of the two ghosts, Whisper and Scream, who are his constant companions. Of all the things that Jeremiah can see with his gift, he is unable to see the one that is most important to him – his missing daughter.”

Synopsis – The bane of most writers’ existence, the dreaded synopsis. If you are going to sell a novel on a proposal, this is the single most important part of the package. It needs to be sharp, it needs to be interesting, and it needs to be only about two pages long. It should be written in present tense and tell the complete story from beginning to end in concise but interesting fashion. (Yeah, I know, easier said than it sounds. Without giving a long treatise on writing a synopsis, let me offer this piece of advice – visit the website of Randy Ingermanson and look into his Snowflake process at http://www.rsingermanson.com/html/the_snowflake.html. I’ve found it to be an excellent tool for planning out a novel, including writing the synopsis.)

Marketing Sheet – As I am active in the industry and have a few books already available, I always include a marketing sheet that lets the editor know what I can do to help promote the work. I list several of the top blurbs and reviews I’ve received for previous works. I mention the various convention guest appearances I’ve done. I note the press appearances – print, television, and radio – that I have done in the past, as well as basic promotional tools like my newsletter and website.

Bio – A short bio listing things like my time as HWA President and my award nominations

Sample Chapters – I finish off the proposal with 3 or 4 sample chapters (usually 30-50 pages) from the actual work. These may change by the time the book is done but again, that’s okay. They are there to show the editor the tone and style of my writing and aren’t set in stone, though you certainly want to lead with something you are very comfortable with as it is your writing, more than anything else, that will hook the editor into wanting to see more (or deciding to take on the project.)

So there you have it – my novel proposals in a nutshell. I’ve used this format to sell my Templar Chronicles series, a young adult novel based on a popular comic book character, and have been using a modified version to market a creator-owned comic series of my own. So far, it’s worked quite well for me.

What’s worked well for you?

In my last column, I talked about foreign markets and how making use of them can give prolonged or even new life to stories and works that have already been published here in the States. Today I’m going to talk about another method I’m using to expand my writing horizons.

My latest novel, HERETIC: Book One of the Templar Chronicles, will be out from Pocket Books on Sept 26th. (For more information on that, go here.) The series revolves around the idea that the Templar Knights have been resurrected, reinstated as a secret combat arm of the Vatican, and charged with protecting mankind from the supernatural enemies that surround us. I fell in love with the idea from the moment it occurred to me and hope to write a number of books in the series before all is said and done.

Recently I’ve rediscovered my love of comic books and, as you might expect, I began to think the story told in HERETIC would make a great comic mini-series. After hemming and hawing about it for a bit, I finally bit the bullet and dived right in.

Let me tell you that adapting your own work of prose into comic form is an interesting exercise. You have to think graphically. You have to be able to narrow the story down to its most important elements. You have to consider viewpoints and angles and imagery. A comic is not just a story told through pictures – it is an art form all its own and my own attempts to delve into the process made me appreciate those who have gone before me all the more. Pacing. Characterization through imagery. Understanding what it takes to get the reader to keep flipping those pages. Knowing when to start a scene and when to stop. There was a tremendous amount to learn.

I decided that the story in HERETIC could best be told as a four part series. After a fair bit of work, I had taken the first quarter of the novel and condensed it into a 28 page script. I had planned out the next three issues as well. Now it was time to find an artist.

Well, that’s not quite right. To be more specific, I know needed a penciler, an inker, and a colorist. A penciler turns the words into images. An inker adds definition to the pencils, makes them pop off the page. And a colorist make the whole thing come alive.

Lucky for me, I discovered three excellent individuals who were interested in the project and had the talent needed to bring my creation to life. For several weeks now we’ve been working on a submission package complete with the script, character art, and sample pages from the completed comic. I’ve been amazed and astounded at what my partners have come up with and it has been a real pleasure in watching other talented individuals breathe life into my words. We’re just about to begin the process of submitting the package to a variety of publishers and I have high hopes for the project. I’m sure I’ll be back to update you all on this part of the process in a later column.

For now, I thought you might enjoy a look how my artistic team took my words and turned them into eye-catching art that really brings the characters to life.

Here is a partial description of Knight Commander Cade Williams, as it appears in the novel (and as it was given to the artists to work with):

“Come,” said Michaels and a moment later the door opened to admit the Heretic.

Cade Williams was not a large man, but he was an opposing sight nonetheless. His face was all hard lines and angles, without even a hint of softness. This effect was heightened by the wide band of angry scar tissue that stretched from beneath the eye patch covering his right eye, down across his cheekbone and around behind his ear. He entered the room with a graceful economy of motion but with what also seemed to be an air of caution, as if he were gingerly moving through the world around him.

Maybe he was, thought Michaels, as his gaze came to rest on Cade’s hands. The flesh-colored gloves were professionally made and a casual glance would not have betrayed their presence, but the moment you knew what to look for they were obvious. Cade wore the gloves to protect him from even the most casual brush with the people and objects around him, and the sight of them forced Michaels to wonder anew at this man’s abilities. That he had been touched was beyond a doubt. It was the unanswered question of who or what had done so that made the Preceptor want to cross himself and momentarily reconsider his decision to call in Echo Team and its unusual leader.

And then a little later…

This close the Preceptor could see that the patch over Cade’s eye hid the majority of the damage to his face, but the scar tissue that peeked around it gave testimony to the ruin beneath. His wide shoulders and strong physique clearly showed his dedication to remaining at the peak of performance. He was dressed in a black sweater, jeans and a pair of work boots. His hair, thin and dark, hung to just above his shoulders, loose and unfettered.

Now, here is how the art team pictured him (warning – large graphic files)

Inked character art before coloring

Inked and colored character art

I’ve always pictured Cade a certain way (think Viggo Mortenson as Aragorn in the Lord of the Rings, but in modern-day SWAT gear) and the art team captured it perfectly. To say I was pleased would be an understatement. (Incidentally, to give credit where credit is due, sketches are by Terence Chung, inks by Gary Mitchell, and colors by Felton Allen.)

In later columns, I’ll post more character art and some of the actual comic pages if folks are interested.