Latest news

New Project Announcements & SDCC 2010 Schedule

Mon, 19 Jul 2010 13:41:50 -0700

Two of my latest comic projects were announced recently —

Metalocalypse/Dethklok — based on the fantastic [adult swim] animated series about Dethklok, the most brutal, dangerous, successful, and incompetent black metal band on the planet. I’m scripting the series in collaboration with the show’s creators Brendan Small and Jon Schnepp; interior art by Lucas Maragnon and covers by Eric Powell and Jon Schnepp. Metal and comics — my two loves in a single project! So far, the first issue’s in the can and it’s one of the best things I’ve done. You’re gonna love it. 
The Clone Wars: The Deadly Hands of Shon-Ju — another in the outstanding series of all-ages Star Wars original graphic novels. This one finds Jedi Aayla Secura caught behind enemy lines and forced to rely upon a mysterious martial artist who could be more hazardous than the armies that are out to kill her. These graphic novels are a blast to write, and I have at least two more in the pipe after this one.

Follow the CREDITS link at the top of the page for more info on both of these books — as well as where to buy them.

Also — Comic-Con is happening in San Diego this week. I’ll be there all five days, flowing with the currents of humanity (predicted attendance is 130,000 — more than twice the population of my home town). If you want to find me, I’ll be signing twice at the Dark Horse booth (#2615) on Friday afternoon:

3:00 - 4:00 pm — Metalocalypse/Dethklok: Jeremy Barlow, Lucas Maragnon, Eric Powell, Brendan Small, and Jon Schnepp  
5:00 - 6:00 pm — Star Wars: The Clone Wars: Jeremy Barlow, Matt Fillbach, Shawn Fillbach

Otherwise, I’ll be scoping the vendors for Spaghetti Western DVDs and bootleg rock concerts.

I hope to see you there!

Persephone Stevens, March 2002 - July 2010

Sun, 18 Jul 2010 22:23:14 -0700

We lost our Sephie last night. As we were getting ready to go to dinner for my birthday, she went into seizure and began hyperventilating. After two hours at the pet emergency room (which, fortunately, is in our neighborhood), we were told that she had severe diabetes and other advanced pulmonary issues, and that she was getting worse by the minute. Knowing that she’d never let us get close enough to manage her disease with daily injections and therapies, our only real choice was to let her go. We stayed with her until the end.

She was a tough little girl. We adopted her from a litter of strays that’d been dropped outside our apartment window, another in a sad cycle of pet homelessness. Never the friendliest of the group, she’d still wait for me to come home every night, and talk to me from the roof of the manager’s building across the parking lot, letting me know she was keeping her eye on me. When the weather turned (and when Chandra was at work), I’d coax her into the apartment and let her lounge on the sofa in front of the fireplace … you know, to keep her joints warm and stuff. Eventually we took her in to get her fixed, intending to turn her loose as soon as we got back — keeping her wasn’t an option. But she had to go be an unwed mother, carrying a load of her own kittens, and we just couldn’t turn her out onto the street after that.

"Mostly feral" we called her because even after living with us for over seven years she still wouldn't let us pick her up or brush her, and her claws found my blood on a weekly basis. But she loved us and would tell us so by rolling over and being flirty, and having conversations with us whenever we'd walk into a room . . . and by sneaking up onto the bed with us only after she thought we were asleep. We could love her, we just couldn't touch her. At least not on our terms.

Goodnight Sephie. Our hearts are breaking, but we’ll never forget you.

Nation the Face

Tue, 8 Jun 2010 13:24:42 -0700

It wasn’t supposed to shatter the bones. Not all of them, anyway. Just enough to impede some dexterity and freak the fuck out of the other linemen. Just enough to get the foreman to blow the horn and stop the line. Just enough to get the rest of the month off and a couple of cush disability checks.

Here it was, though — a hand mangled beyond recognition and all but one finger lost forever in the press gears. Frank Bannister held steady, his stare following the line of his arm, down past the shredded orange sleeve and torn ligaments, into the machine, watching its giant needle slowly piston to a stop through the pulped gore at the end of his wrist. The pulse pounding in his ears so hard that he couldn’t hear the lineman to his immediate right trying to conjure the messiah through sheer volume of profanity.

The blood hadn’t even really started yet, either, after the initial splatter, at least. And let’s be honest, you think you can compensate for the pain with adrenaline, that you can keep it together when your vision tunnels to a pinpoint; but it’s one thing to suck air and prepare and quite another to keep pressure on the lever while electricity lightnings up your brain stem and the horror of watching your flesh give way to the machinery, swirling with the teeth like dried pudding skin under a spoon, burns into the backs of your eyes. There’s no shame in light-headedness and a little vomit. No shame at all.

Still, what’s done is done. The hand was a casualty of poor planning, no taking that one back, Frank knew it and he was fine with that. The point is — it worked.

How Will You Miss Me If I Won’t Go Away?

Tue, 25 May 2010 01:16:37 -0700

Well, what d’ya know — there’s a good flow of traffic popping through this site lately. That’s a trend I wouldn’t mind seeing continue, but to keep it up I should do a better job of refreshing the content, and to do that I need YOUR help. Right now, I’m riding a long wave between when the work I’ve done will be announced and solicited, so I’ve been keeping to Twitter and Facebook for the occasional scattershot updates (follow those links up there!). Which is fine for me, but not so good for bringing y’all back here on a regular basis.

So if you have a second, give me a hand. Add a comment (by clicking on the word ‘comment’ directly below) — let me know who you are, why you’re here, and more of what you want, and I’ll see if I can’t meet you halfway. Across the sky!

City of Emerald, City of Dust!

Mon, 8 Mar 2010 23:54:16 -0800

Hey, gang — time flies, eh? How ‘bout we skip the part where I vow to update this site more often and you pretend to believe me? You good with that? Cool, me too. So here’s what’s up —

I’ll be a guest at the Emerald City Comic-Con this weekend (March 13-14), shaking hands and kissing babies. If you’re in the area and planning to hit the show, come by and say hello. I’m sharing a table with the ridiculously talented and affably ridiculous Jeff Parker; I’ll have copies of my latest books for-sale, and many amazing tales to tell about my life among the cave-dwelling polygamists. At sea.

It was at last year’s ECCC that I met the fine folks at Periscope Studio and joined forces with them soon after — I look forward to seeing what this year brings. And to meeting YOU -- seriously. Let’s have a drink and raise a toast . . . to VENGEANCE!