Thursday, June 25, 2015

A Passage From "American Dreams"

Here's an excerpt from a comic I'm working on called "American Dreams". It tells the story of greaser kids in the Middle-Of-Nowhere, Oregon, back in the 50's.  They have nothing left but to hit each other 'til their bones run dry in rumbles set throughout the school year.  One day, an actual gang shows up and forces the kids to either work for them, or get out of town.  Some of the kids like the lifestyle of playing real gangster, but the rest know it's bad business.  Now they gotta try and get the gang out of town without knowing who to trust.

I've been detailing the entirety of the storyline for over a year at this point.  (Fuck, that doesn't make me feel good.  But progress is progress, huh?)  This is a portion from the first issue, when two of the main characters, Brendan Carllyl and James Brennan, are making their way into the center of town.  VO Box stands for "voice over box" and is being told through the mind of Brendan Carllyl.

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PAGE 3

PANEL:
The car is only a little ways into the city of Ellisville, one side heavily developed and the other gets more like the wilderness the deeper into the land you get. They are at the edge of town so the shops are few and far between.

VO BOX
I don't know when the place was built, I've never cared to know, but pieces of its history stuck to people's tongues like it was legend.

VO BOX
It used to be a good spot for bootleggers back in the day, y'know?

PANEL:
The car is center of the panel, driving past the record store, the barber shop, and a fishing supply store.

VO BOX
Way out here in the middle of nowhere? With small-time cops not making shit for cash the legal way? Everyone was on the take.

PANEL:
The boys continue down the road, the view this time overhead.

VO BOX
It's how our city grew. Everyone here has a grandad that used to be in the running game.

PANEL:
JAMES BRENNAN flicks his almost-spent cigarette out the window at a group of three Black men in their twenties. They all turn away defensively.

VO BOX
Well, almost everyone.

PAGE 4

PANEL:
A light signal burns green on an overcast sky.

VO BOX
Once the Prohibition was done breathing all its smoke into people's private lives, the town died once again.

PANEL:
The same signal turns red.

VO BOX
The smoke had cleared. We saw we would have to try our best to be a legitimate town with something to contribute towards again.

PANEL:
The four-way stop begins to pump cars from their starting lines a little into the intersection.

VO BOX
We were the same logging town we used to be, but this time with the bitterness of knowing we used to have it good.

PANEL:
A driver in another car slams the breaks, looking to his right, his face tense.

VO BOX
Our parents had to deal with the hurt of earning nothing like our grandparents did.

PANEL:
JAMES BRENNAN's car races past the man who stopped short of the wreck, dashing past all those waiting respectfully in line for their turn at the signal.

VO BOX
And of course, that aggression just rubbed-off on us.

PANEL:
JAMES BRENNAN flips the bird out his window, not even a smile to grace the notion, as he rushes towards the viewer.

VO BOX
We were second-generation losers. And ain't no one in town would tell us different.

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