S K Y L A R K I N G: July 2012

Monday, July 30, 2012

SPACE WESTERNS!

So I've been busy.

I am a partner in a publishing venture, R a g e M a c h i n e Books. We recently had a conference where we set a number of goals to finish before the end of the year. This means that I am going to be busy doing covers for the various publication that we will be putting out as well as writing a number of them (as Jack Mackenzie). Between that and the commissions I have undertaken I will not be able to blog with a great deal of frequency. It is a very exciting time, though!

The newest books (available soon) feature G. W. Thomas' space cowboy Ranger Nealy. Set on the planet Utukku, Ranger Neely has to deal with bandits, Central Command disconnect, the local indigenous lifeforms and even a lost race of called the Harlequins.

If you`re a fan of Space Westerns, Firefly, or just great action adventure, then these books will be right up your alley.

Visit G. W. Thomas`blog here. The books will be available very soon from Amazon.com exclusively for the Kindle.

I've been here and there. I've drawn a lot of pictures. I've written a bit, too. I'm not good at this self-promotion thing. Look, you want to know about me? just visit these websites. Okay?
www.mdjacksonart.weebly.com
http://mdjackson.deviantart.com
http://community.imaginefx.com/fxpose/mdjacksons%5Fportfolio

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

HAPPY BIRTHDAY EDWARD HOPPER!

American painter Edward Hopper, most famous for his iconic Nighthawks painting, was born this day in 1882.

The above painting, 11 am, is one of my personal favorites.

UPDATE: This post was scheduled to go live on July 22 (the actual day of Hopper's birth). Somehow it got lost and didn't show up until today.

I've been here and there. I've drawn a lot of pictures. I've written a bit, too. I'm not good at this self-promotion thing. Look, you want to know about me? just visit these websites. Okay?
www.mdjacksonart.weebly.com
http://mdjackson.deviantart.com
http://community.imaginefx.com/fxpose/mdjacksons%5Fportfolio

Thursday, July 19, 2012

DEBT'S PLEDGE

Cover art for an upcoming book by Jack Mackenzie.

I've been here and there. I've drawn a lot of pictures. I've written a bit, too. I'm not good at this self-promotion thing. Look, you want to know about me? just visit these websites. Okay?
www.mdjacksonart.weebly.com
http://mdjackson.deviantart.com
http://community.imaginefx.com/fxpose/mdjacksons%5Fportfolio

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

SUPER, GIRL!

I've been here and there. I've drawn a lot of pictures. I've written a bit, too. I'm not good at this self-promotion thing. Look, you want to know about me? just visit these websites. Okay?
www.mdjacksonart.weebly.com
http://mdjackson.deviantart.com
http://community.imaginefx.com/fxpose/mdjacksons%5Fportfolio

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

MONDAY MISCELLANEA (A DAY LATE)

Actually this feature is two days plus a full two weeks late. I think I have trouble with semi-regular features, because I'm not a semi-regular guy.

Anyway, here it is, late but hopefully not unwelcome and we'll start it all off with some Frazetta...

Becca Whitaker: One of her raciest (and naturally one of my favourite) pin-ups

Friday, July 13, 2012

BAT IN BLACK

Saturday, July 7, 2012

SIMPLE NUDE

THE DEATHMASTER'S FOLLY

Original illustration for "The Deathmaster's Folly" by M. D. Jackson

"The Deathmaster's Folly" by G. W. Thomas

$1.99 from Smashwords

Sword & Sorcery at 20,512 wrds.

The necromancer Fauston and his apprentice Ramid are off to the wilds of barbaria to work for Baron Brekka, an ambitious lord. Dark magic follows them as they join forces with Bradur, barbarian swordsman, in facing an evil so dark it threatens to claim Fauston's soul.

Series: The Gods Have Left Us series

BODY OF WORK

Original illustration for "Body of Work" by M. D. Jackson

"Body of Work" by G. W. Thomas

.99c from Smashwords

.99c from Kobo

.99c from Barnes & Noble

Cthulhu Mythos Mystery at 4290 wrds.

The book had disappeared and the man who had stolen it was dead. How was he going to make a dead man give up his secret?

Series: The Book Collector and Cthulhu Mythos series

Original illustration for "Body of Work" by M. D. Jackson

BLACK SUN

Original Illustration for "Black Sun by M. D. Jackson

"Black Sun" by G. W. Thomas

.99c from Smashwords

.99c from Barnes & Noble

Cthulhu Mythos Horror at 5849 wrds.

"A Fan tour de force!"

The Dark Man has come to Space Station 7734 -- or Station Hell as the inhabitants call it--and the terror has just begun.

Original illustration for "Black Sun" by M. D. Jackson

Friday, July 6, 2012

CONVERSATION WITH YOUR 12 YEAR OLD SELF

This is just brilliant. It's a video by Jeremiah McDonald and it's got me thinking about what I would say to my 12 year old self. How would that conversation go?

12 year old me: Hello, Michael from the future! How are you?

46 year old me: I'm fine, Michael. How are you?

12 year old me: I'm fine. So, how are things in the future? Do you have a flying car?

46 year old me: No. I'm driving a '95 Pontiac Sunfire.

12 year old me: And it doesn't fly?

46 year old me: No. It doesn't fly.

12 year old me: Have you been into space?

46 year old me: Nnnoooo. No.

12 year old me: No? Is there spaceships?

46 year old me: Yes. There's a space shuttle... well, there was a space shuttle. They've stopped using it now.

12 year old me: Did it get replaced with something else, like a starship or something?

46 year old me: Uh... no. They just kind of... stopped.

12 year old me: Is there a space station?

46 year old me: Yes! There is an International space station.

12 year old me: Cool! Have you been there?

46 year old me: No.

12 year old me: Do you still watch Star Wars?

46 year old me: I've seen all the Star Wars movies. Yes.

12 year old me: How many are there?

46 year old me: Six movies and a cartoon.

12 year old me: A cartoon?

46 year old me: Well it's CGI.

12 year old me: What's CGI?

46 year old me: Never mind. Yes, I still watch Star Wars.

12 year old me: What about Star Trek?

46 year old me: Yes. I still watch Star Trek. All the different series and the movies.

12 year old me: There's movies?

46 year old me: Yes. Several Star Trek movies and... uh... five...? different series.

12 year old me: Cool! So cool!

46 year old me: Yes. Yes it is, I see you're excited. You're doing a little dance. Be careful... don't...

12 year old me: Sorry... sorry... I'm just so excited! Did you become a movie director?

46 year old me: Uh... no. I'm a writer and an artist, though.

12 year old me: Do you work on the Star Trek movies? Do you write the episodes?

46 year old me: Hah! I wish! No. I do book covers and other commissions... portraits. I've written short stories. I post stuff to my blog.

12 year old me: Blo... what...?

46 year old me: Never mind. You'll find out.

12 year old me: Do you have a girlfriend?

46 year old me: I have a wife. And a daughter. She's just graduated,

12 year old me: Wow. Do you have a dog?

46 year old me: No. I have cats. Three cats.

12 year old me: Cats?

46 year old me: Yes. Cats. I'm a cat person now. Get over it.

12 year old me: Are you still fat?

46 year old me: Uh... well, kind of...

12 year old me: Did you ever get skinny?

46 year old me: Uh. No, not really. I've lost a lot of weight, but I can't really be called skinny...

12 year old me: Crap!

46 year old me: What can I say. It's genetics. Get over it.

12 year old me: Are you famous?

46 year old me: Uh... no.

12 year old me: Okay... you're not famous, you haven't been into space, you don't write for Star Trek, you don't have a flying car and you have cats.

46 year old me: Yup. That's basically it.

12 year old me: Okay. I'm gonna go outside and play now.

46 year old me: That's great. I gotta get back to work.

12 year old me: Where do you work?

46 year old me: I think you've had enough disappointment for one day.

Thursday, July 5, 2012

STANNIS AND ROBERT BARATHEON: THE EARLY YEARS

A picture of my brother Dave and I back in 1983 or so, swiped from his Facebook page.

I've been here and there. I've drawn a lot of pictures. I've written a bit, too. I'm not good at this self-promotion thing. Look, you want to know about me? just visit these websites. Okay?
www.mdjacksonart.weebly.com
http://mdjackson.deviantart.com
http://community.imaginefx.com/fxpose/mdjacksons%5Fportfolio

CAPTAIN JACK, SPIDERMAN and WONDER WOMAN

Yes. It actually happened.

THE CHANGELING'S GIFT

Art: G. W. Thomas -- www.gwthomas.org/gallery.htm

The distant bells of Westminster Abbey tolled suddenly and the sound, wafting over the cold morning air, made Arthur Freeborn stop in his tracks.

"What is it?" Nairn asked. "Do you see something?"

Freeborn shook his head. "The bells. Westminster. Her Majesty and Prince Albert are proud parents once again."

Nairn gave Freeborn a wry smile. "God bless good Queen Victoria. Do those keen ears of yours tell you if it's a boy or a girl?"

Of course Nairn could not hear them, not this far away. Freeborn smiled and then rubbed the tops of his ears in a self conscious gesture, his fingertips trying to rub warmth into the furrowed scars they found there. The scars, which he'd had since childhood, felt the cold December wind quite keenly as it whistled over them beneath the brim of his stovepipe hat.

Nairn squeezed Freeborn's arm in a warm gesture. "We'll have to have a tot of rum at The George in celebration. Once we've found our quarry."

"Indeed," Freeborn agreed. He resumed his course, walking a steady pace, his shoes sinking into the newly fallen snow, his ears and eyes alert for their quarry, a murderer the yellow journals had named the Eastcheap Phantom. It was that pursuit that had brought them to this lonely cemetery near Wanstead.

There were no mourners this morning neither was there any sound that Freeborn could detect other than the tramping sound made by Nairn's boots as he trudged through the snow. Not that Freeborn was expecting to hear anything. Their quarry was a cunning one. He knew how to move silently and swiftly and hide in plain sight from most human eyes. But Arthur Freeborn was a Fey, despite all his attempts to appear human, and he could sense the other's presence and the other was close.

He stopped moving and closed his eyes. He could still hear Nairn moving. Nairn probably thought he was moving quietly, but to Freeborn's sensitive ears the dour former jesuit was lumbering around like a bull. But Nairn was a good man. He had always treated Freeborn fairly, even stood up for him against his fellow constables at the Yard who were prejudiced against him because he was a Fey.

Being a Fey was a secret that Freeborn was never able to keep despite his efforts to look and act like a human. Despite the painful disfigurement that he had put himself through in early childhood to make his ears look normal, Arthur Freeborn could do nothing to disguise his willowy frame, his ethereal manner and his startling bottle green eyes. He could not disguise the softly lyrical quality of his voice, nor could any amount of coloring agent cover up his golden hair. Despite this he had tried to live as a human, but it had never been easy. Even achieving the status of police constable at Scotland Yard had not lessened the prejudice, the taunting nor the outright hate that he experienced daily.

If it hadn't been for Nairn, Freeborn didn't think he would have lasted as long as he had. The kindly ex-priest had been supportive and had sponsored each and every one of his promotions. Rather than being frightened or intimidated by Freeborn's Fey qualities, Nairn had known enough to put them to use in their work. Freeborn's uncanny senses and attention to the most minute detail had put more than one villain behind bars.

Nairn had stopped moving. He had finally noticed Freeborn's stillness and had stood still himself, trying not to breathe too loudly or to interfere with Freeborn's perceptions. Freebornr could still hear his partner's breathing, the ragged wheeze of his lungs that had survived consumption and still worked despite the foul smoke inflicted upon them by Nairn's pipe. He could hear the bustle of daily commerce in the nearby market. He could hear all of these things but he could ignore them all to concentrate upon the one sound, the single noise that should not be there.

It was difficult because his quarry made almost no noise when he moved, seemed not even to breathe. It seemed the Phantom could mask himself completely from attentive ears, but he could not disguise the quiet whisper of a blade as it slid out of a hilt.

Freeborn was able to pinpoint where the sound came from and he sprang into action. Too late he realized that he had made the wrong move.

As fast as Freeborn had sprang, the Phantom had sprang as well, and the Phantom was faster. He felt the other brush past him and Freeborn turned, but too late. The other's blade whistled in the air. Freeborn could only watch, helpless as Nairn's expression registered shock. Nairn's hand went convulsively to his throat and he dropped trying to stop the sudden flow of blood to no avail.

Freeborn froze for a moment only, but it was enough. The Phantom made a dash for stone wall that enclosed the cemetery. There was no chance that Freeborn could catch up with him now and the Phantom knew it. He stopped and stood stock still for a fleeting moment. Human eyes would barely have noticed but it was long enough for Freeborn to get a look at his enemy.

He... no... it was she!... wore a cloak of deep green. Raven hair, darker than the blackest night spilled out from underneath the hood. She wore a leather jerkin and leather breeches. and boots of animal skin. Her flesh bore marks... some sort of tattoo or scarification. Her eyes were darkened like they were smudged with kohl... more tattoos perhaps? Her eyes were white within the dark smudge and they seemed to taunt him. The edges of her crimson stained lips drew up into a smile. She knew he could see her. She had stopped this long just so that he could see his enemy.

Then she moved and faster than Freeborn thought was possible, she was over the wall and gone.

Download the rest of this fantasy adventure for only .99c from Smashwords!

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

WHAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED ON JULY 4TH, 1776?

There was no battle. There were no cannons. There were no muskets. That would come later.

On July 4th there was just the document.

The thirteen colonies were united behind an idea: No taxation without representation. The British Crown, represented by King George III (The same monarch from The Madness of King George, father to Blackadder's Prince Regent) responded to this demand by sending 700 British warships to Nova Scotia, showing in no uncertain terms that not only had he rejected that demand but intended to play rough to enforce it.

That changed things. If the colonies were going to resist a military occupation and the leaders were to risk being hanged as traitors, they might as well do it for something substantial.

Independence.

As they say: Shit just got real.

In June, 1776 British patrol frigates were skirmishing in the Delaware River; late in the month British troops landed on Staten Island. The American reaction to all this was a muddle of confusion. A few were delighted, most of the rest were amazed or appalled.

There is far less muddle about what happened on July 2, 1776, publicly proclaimed two days later. Adopting a resolution written by Richard Henry Lee of Virginia, the Thirteen Colonies stated they had now clarified their goals in the controversy with the British monarchy.

Fighting had been going on for a year in Massachusetts, and Lord Howe's fleet had set sail a month before the Declaration, actually landing on Staten Island at just about the same time as the Fourth of July.

So what actually happened on the 4th?

Contrary to popular mythology, there was no ceremonial signing of the Declaration on July 4, 1776. After Congress approved the wording of the text on July 4, a copy was sent to be printed. As president, Hancock may have signed the document that was sent to the printer, but this is uncertain because that document is lost, perhaps destroyed in the printing process. The printer produced the first published version of the Declaration, the widely distributed Dunlap broadside. Hancock, as President of Congress, was the only delegate whose name appeared on the broadside, although the name of Charles Thomson, secretary of the Continental Congress, but not a delegate, was also on it. This meant that until a second broadside was issued six months later with all of the signers listed, Hancock was the only delegate whose name was publicly attached to the treasonous document. Hancock sent a copy of the Dunlap broadside to George Washington, instructing him to have it read to the troops "in the way you shall think most proper".

Eventually there would be 56 signatories to that declaration but that would take to almost the end of September.

So when someone asks you for your "John Hancock" on something, think about the historical John Hancock, the first man to publicly declare himself a rebel to the crown. Signing that paper was as good as signing his own death warrant had things not turned out as they did, and for a while his was the only one. Think about what an act of bravery signing that paper entailed. No, he didn't hunt vampires, but he was a brave man nonetheless.

So next time stop and think about how important it is when you sign your "John Hancock" to something.

Happy Fourth of July to all my American readers! You have an amazing country with a singularly colourful history.