I’m glad everyone enjoyed the recent comic! Now, as many of you have commented in various ways, I’m sure people are eager to know … what’s next for John, Daisy and their absurdly-endowed mother?!?!?!
Well obviously there’s a second comic coming [soonish], and obviously it will include a little more about John’s relationship with his mother, okay? Calming down a bit? Happy now? I mean it’s pretty clear in the last few pages of the first comic that we’ll need to look at what happens next, otherwise that’s just me being annoying in leaving such a cliffhangar!
Seriously though, whether or not you’re into the ‘mother thing’, the second comic is going to be better than the first.
If anything, the first was just the warm-up act for the main event …
Hrrrnnnggg!
… so without giving anything away, I am going to share a little of the comic development as we go along. But considering I’ve already written the entire 2nd comic and have already created the first 70 pages worth of renders for it … I hope to be releasing part 2 THIS YEAR. In fact hopefully this Autumn.
To celebrate this incalculable generosity of mine (no no you’re too kind, too kind), let’s have a quick look back at the timeline for this comic:
- Started as a concept in early 2022. I made 30 pages of that before I gave up and shelved it, because I had trialled the HAUNTED La Femme v1 character, and couldn’t get it to work properly. I mean look at this abomination:
- From some angles (like the above window reflection) it kinda looked okay, which is why I’d got as far as 30 pages before completely giving up.
- A year later, I did a comic concept vote on this website, to see what people wanted me to work on. See blog post: VOTE https://sindyannajones.com/2023/08/vote-in-the-great-new-comics-extravaganza/… and overwhelmingly, people voted for the subtly revealed cones of this teenage girl sitting by the pool? Weird? This:
- … so that made me think huh, there’s something in this failed concept after all. She did look a bit young though.
- Maybe I shouldn’t ditch the concept and vibe, maybe I should just update the model?
- By August 2023, I had rebuilt the characters ready to make the comic production at least possible. See blog post: Life in the Backyard: https://sindyannajones.com/2023/08/life-in-the-backyard/
- So I freed the comic from the cursed La Femme 3D model to trusty old V4, the most common 3D character in human history:
… too much mascara, but you get the point. That’s John Archer v2.0, alpha test version.
- Lovely! 2023 and 2024 were full of Lithium, Skybloom and Kinfolk things, so I was keeping busy. And before I was able to start on this ‘Backyard’ concept … there was one final piece of the puzzle that needed work … the relationship with the mother.
- By September 2024, I was writing the comic script and asking for advice on the Mummy -angle. See blog post: Motherfucker https://sindyannajones.com/2024/09/mother-fer/
A little early-morning topless garden watering …
- Now, as you may know, this is where the story gets unexpectedly juicy. A certain comment on that blog post led me to the exact relationship dynamic I was looking for – an entirely believable mother-loving story. How does it really happen? What does it really feel like? For without realism, we cannot have sexiness. That comic thread blew my tiny mind and setup the impossibly wonderful dynamic I was looking for.
- By January 2025, we had had a discussion with that anonymous commenter. See blog post: A hypothetical https://sindyannajones.com/2025/01/a-hypothetical-for-desertfox/ I then embarked on ‘translating’ their story of 1970s Americana into British English, in such a way that segued into the STFW (and Rather Magnificent) timeline.
- And so … part 2 of my comic is indeed going to be based on the lived experience of this anonymous commenter from this very blog. Their tragic story will not be reproduced word-for-word, but the vibes, the awkwardness, the dynamic, will be honoured as closely as I can manage within the realms of my comic universe.
- This is where you must trust me to translate, because I’m basing it on scant details but trying to honour the dynamic and fit it all within the realms of my comics.
- And now that I have produced so many pages for comic #2, I can honestly say … it’s exciting! I wasn’t particularly into the mom-son thing at all before embarking on this project (you can tell my experience of my own mother from what you read in Lithium …), but I have to admit … ooohh … I’m warming up to it now.
Exciting times!
I hope you’re having a lovely summer!
This excites me in ways unusual and enticing… Nice.
Looking forward to it…..since way back when. But I know you be busy and have this thing called a life. I appreciate and am grateful for your boobie extravaganzas that dive deeply into humanity and interaction!
Cheers
Thanks Jerry!
Shit. Just read DesertFox’s original comment and your follow-up post. DesertFox’s story rang me like a bell. I’m literally shaking as I type this, as if I’ve had a massive dose of caffeine. Adrenaline, I suppose. I also want to cry, my emotions barely contained so I can see the screen while I type this.
My parents divorced before I hit puberty, just a couple years after my next-older brother had died by suicide. My younger sister and I initially lived with my Mom (seeing my dad a weekend each month and 2 weeks in the summer), then we suddenly moved to my Dad’s barely a year after his remarriage, when my Mom’s alcoholism led to other problems. My sister and I visited my Mom with the same arrangement we’d had with our Dad, and before long, each visit with Mom revealed the huge progress she was making in her life, the hard work she was doing on herself.
Then I hit puberty, which arrived with undiagnosed depression. To get an idea of how I was in high school, go watch the play, “Dear Evan Hansen”. I was an uncontrolled wreck, massively confused by both my inner and outer worlds, and I didn’t handle it well. Not at all.
My depression and rage at life reached a peak during my senior year. When I visited my Mom during Christmas break, I decided not to return. She welcomed me into her tiny single-bedroom cabin, giving me the couch. She explained to me that this situation could not, and would not, work as a stereotypical mother-son home, and would instead need to be more like adult roommates, sharing responsibilities in the home. The conditions for my stay included that I had to get a job so I could pay my share of rent, bills and food. I also had to finish my high school graduation requirements at night school.
We settled into a good routine, part roommates, part mother-son, but mostly just becoming much better friends. She was the first person to treat me as an adult on a daily basis. My Mom and I did have “encounters” that I’ll share some other time (if you ever again are looking for mother-son plot lines).
However, it soon became clear that a minimum-wage job did not lead to any future I wanted. It also became clear that I was in no way ready or able or even fit to attend college. I finished my high school, requirements, got my diploma, then I joined the US Navy in February 1975 (the month after DesertFox).
Fortunately, my Mom didn’t die while I was away! The Navy took me to California, where I settled down when my enlistment ended. I stayed in San Diego, starting college immediately after. I bought my house a few years after graduation, after which my sister moved out and became my roommate while she built her career and got to know San Diego. Then she met the man of her dreams and moved out to start her family.
Our Mom came out to visit as often as she could (especially after my nephew was born), but it was never often or long enough. When she retired from her career in the midwest, my sister and I strongly advocated for her to move to San Diego, something we all agreed would be wonderful. However, she refused, mainly because her sister was having problems, and my Mom became a surrogate Mom to my cousins living nearby.
Once she was in her early 80s, my sister said, “Mom, wouldn’t it be easier to move to San Diego BEFORE you turn 85?”. Somehow, that did the trick. My Mom agreed, and she got to spend the last 7 years of her life living near my sister and I in San Diego. She was in great health until she turned 93, when a bunch of medical complications arrived all at once, and she passed 6 months later, while I was holding her hand.
During those 7 (almost 8) years, my Mom and I spent lots of time together, recalling our shared memories and making new ones, though we avoided discussing or even mentioning to each other the “encounters” in the cabin. Until, one day, more than 40 years after, we decided otherwise. (Which is another part of the story I’ll share another time.) One of the best outcomes from that conversation was how the “encounters” not only didn’t hurt our relationship, but turned out to be, in a way we didn’t really understand, just another brief step (and not a misstep) on the long and wonderful path of our relationship. There was no shame, just acknowledgement, acceptance and growth. And love.
I never told any of my therapists about it. I never journaled about it. It was our secret. It’s a story I love, but never could share with anyone but her. And if it weren’t for your comics and DesertFox’s comments, it would have stayed that way.
Jeez. I’m still shaking and feeling very emotional. It’s a good thing!
BobC. Wow. Not much I need to say to this, except thank you. As you’ve experienced first-hand, when we’re brave and vulnerable (as DesertFox was), it can be life-changing for others to simply witness, because we don’t know what people out there are holding, and what in ourselves may be unlocked by it. So thank you for sharing what you have.
I was so happy to read that the first time your story began to see the light of day was on my blog! Made my day! But yeah if there is something you’d consider taking to a therapist – in my experience of counseling/therapy, any half-decent therapist literally wouldn’t bat an eyelid at what you’ve said above; zero shame in it. There’s been a few times over the last 15 years when I’ve been in some sort of counseling, and the thing I thought was despicable/unspeakable about me, turned out to be powerless lil’ anecdotes. Incredible how the light of day tends to unlock things that were locked. This is why I keep going on at people to write/create their own stories! Find some way to art it … get some sun on it.
I remembered there was something else you’d said on this blog, so I did a quick search (this is you writing about Tira Yugen’s series): “The story was hitting me like a hammer to a gong. I began to wonder what life TY had lived to let such a story be written. How could any story be so much like mine?” … well, in answer to that … because life is like this. We just think our silly lil’ heart-beating moments are our failures, when really … as long as we’ve actually lived … we’re pretty similar! Making my comics has been as much a joy for me as it seems to have been for others, discovering shared awkwardness, shames and failures and wonder, heehee!
But yes, speaking slightly selfishly, if you’d be willing to share more of your ‘encounter’ moments, I’d *love* to find out more – I’m midway through creating the renders for the upcoming ‘Mom’ comic, but have yet to apply the [currently very fluid] script in place on any pages, and as I haven’t personally experienced that unique dynamic of mom/child I’d like to lend it some legitimacy if possible. So I’d be grateful for any donations of conversations, contexts, stand-out memories … really those heart-beating things and what you can remember of what was actually said at the time, and how those moves began. HOWEVER – this is only my selfish request and it is likely that a wiser path would be for you to begin to journal those moments for yourself, and to consider if there would be value in taking them to a therapist to help you unpack the feelings around them. So no pressure from my direction. Reality check: I am a horny comic creator after all, and not a trained counselor.
If these feelings that you’re not alone in your experiences are making you shake with adrenaline, then perhaps there’s something worth exploring with someone trained to simply hold the space with you ~ even if just to explore why you may have responded like that.
As a wise man once said, “It’s not about being brave, but about being willing to be yourself. Be honest. Be vulnerable.” ~ I believe it was a commenter named BobC who said that.
BobC’s words in your second to last paragraph makes me think of the song “To The Wilder” by Woodkid, especially the last verse:
“To all the mountains, all the rivers
To all the strays, the trailblazers
To what it takes to walk forever
To what it takes to be who we are
Who we are”
<3
Dear both,
I experienced none of that so I can’t relate to any of it first hand.
Yet, all the above brought tears to my eyes…
Thank you !
Stop, my penis can only get so erect.
😂