Jackie Kessler
Some kids want to grow up to be doctors, or movie stars, or political assassins. Me, I wanted to draw comic books. Not Archie comics, either—superhero comic books. Maybe it was all the heavily muscled guys in spandex…
Around the time I was 15, I realized that as much as I enjoyed drawing (note that I’m saying nothing about the quality of those pics), it was a lot of fun putting words in the characters’ mouths. I didn’t know the term “fanfic” back then, but I started writing stories about the X-Men, Alpha Flight, and the Teen Titans. Didn’t do anything with those stories, other than horrify my mother. She asked why I couldn’t write nice stories, you know, about bunnies. Nope—me, I wanted to write about power. About magic. About hot guys in spandex. And about beating those guys bloody and senseless. (In retrospect, maybe I really did want to horrify my mother. Hey, not my fault. When I was a kid, I busted her doodling on the cover of New Teen Titans #6. Argh!)
So maybe it’s ironic that the book I wound up writing had nothing to do with overly muscled men and everything to do with scantily clad women. (Well, temporarily scantily clad.) Oh, right, and demons.
Previously, I was the fantasy editor for Wild Child Publishing. Along with working with terrific authors and editors, I’d been fortunate enough to interview a number of fabulous people for WCP, including Margaret Weis (I think Raistlin was my first crush).
In case you’re wondering, I live in Upstate New York, along with my Loving Husband and two Precious Little Tax Deductions, two cats, and about 9,000 comics. (But actually, that number is now closer to 8,000, thanks to a flooded basement. Alas!)
“I still love you," Aaron says softly, "I wish I can just turn it off, or that it would have faded away. I wish I could say I'm not the same man I was when you left me, that I've changed. But I am who I am, Caitlin. And all the magic in the world wouldn't change that.”
“As there was no saddle, Lisa said to the horse, “May I pull myself up?”And damned if the horse didn’t nod.”
“Prove it. I'll measure your words against your actions, and from that I will determine your worth.”
“WHETHER IT'S A CHILD'S TOY OR A NATION'S OIL, IT'S ALL THE SAME, the Red Rider said. YOU FIGHT FOR WHAT YOU WANT. AGGRESSION. IT'S THE SPICE OF LIFE. War was right: people had to fight for what they wanted. Or maybe balance, as Famine has said -- strength matched with temperance. No, she thought. Not balance, Control. IT'S ALWAYS ABOUT CONTROL, War agreed merrily. [as in the meaning of why wars happen]”
“And oil's not supposed to mix with water. But then someone invented mayonnaise, and wham - instant mixing.”
“Sweetie, this is Hell. We invented paperwork.”
“If Melissa Miller were an artist, she would have painted the world in vicious streaks of red. Nothing like Picasso's rose period, all soft and cheerful and so optimistic that it made you want to puke. Missy's red phase would have been brutal and bright enough to cut your eyes. Missy's art would have been honest.”