Author - Artist - Voice Over Actor

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Dream of What Lies Beneath

My previous blog post was officially the last of my Comic Book series for Toastmasters, but I have one more story to tell.

While I was telling you all about my love for the Golden Age of Super Heroes, about Earth 2, the Justice Society, and the All-Star Squadron, one evening I had a dream.

Over the last week I’ve been drawing a pseudo comic book cover based on that dream.

Everything Built to this FLYING GLORY AND THE HOUNDS OF GLORY

My career in comic has been a long and slow journey, but from the very beginning as a child I was creating my own super hero characters.

My first character I created was called… Captain Combo <cringe, I know> – I tried to draw a character that was partially every character I knew in the DC Universe – The Superman Shield, the bat symbol, Flash’s lightning bolt, the Dr. Fate’s helmet with Dr. Mid-Nite’s goggles, and so forth. It was really silly, and long before I discovered the android Amazo which was basically the same thing.

My Career In Comics, So far…

This is probably going to be the more boring and least interesting post in this series, but let’s give it a try.

As mentioned, I was a young kid discovering comic books when I knew I wanted to be a comic book artist, and being an artist, I soon discovered that I was a story teller so that meant I was a writer as well. I emulated the artists and writers I loved in the comic.

Some of the Artists and Writers that Influenced me growing up.

I write my comic scripts on a laptop computer, and I draw my comic pages using a Wacom tablet in Photoshop. I couldn’t have imagined doing that when I was a kid. After writing with a pad and pencil, my mom allowed me to use her IBM Selectric typewriter. Which I started out doing with one finger hunt and peck. In high school I’d take typing classes (do those exist anymore?) As to drawing I just grabbed a handful of typing paper and drew with a pencil… (either that or drew on the brown paper bag book covers at school.) Eventually taking art classes.

Even though I was just a kid, and starting to learn how to drawn and write, I knew what I wanted to be. Learning would begin by studying and emulating the writers and artists I so admired.

My Love Hate Relationship with the Multiverse part 2

An Infinite number of Worlds, an Infinite number of You. All alike and yet each unique in their own way. No reason that should be confusing to anyone, should it?

My Love Hate Relationship with the Multiverse part 1

Doctor Strange and Spider-Man may have fallen through the multiverse of the Marvel Cinematic Universe a lot recently. However, my first real journey into parallel worlds began with my very first comic.

Love of the Golden Age

It first began by reprinting newspaper comic strips, and then it illustrated adventure stories had previously been in pulp novels and magazines, then the detectives put on masks and a man could leap tall buildings in a single bound. It was the Golden Age of Comic Books, the Golden Age of Super Heroes.

As mentioned previously, though I had read a few other comics, the first series I was committed to reading every issue was All-Star Squadron. A book that took place during that “Golden Age.”

I would discover and read other books at that time, some Justice League of America, Brave & and the Bold which would be replaced by Batman and the Outsiders, and The New Teen Titans.

Education of Reading Comics

When I was young, during my Elementary School and Junior High years, I was struggling with reading. It was recommended to my parents that I should take further classes and have special tutors. One such tutor was in an after-school period on campus, while another one was off campus at a place called “The Reading Game.” These tutors helped me, but there was other help that I received that would improve my education.


It was during this period of time I first discovered comic books, as mentioned in my previous post, and I was regularly reading them… and I was reading them not just looking at the artwork (and I’ll tell you about the artwork and artists in a later post).


One day when my parents are having a ‘parent/teacher’ meeting with my special reading tutor to talk about how I was doing. They brought up the fact that I was reading comics, and asked if this was a good thing or should they take the comics away to have me read “real” books.

Happy New Year – 2024

MY VOICE ACTING GOALS – 2024

1 – Full Time Job

2 – Make myself known to Casting Directors

3 – More Regular Voice Over Auditions

4 – Book Voice Over Roles

5 – Start a regular Stream

6 – Be part of an Improv Group

7 – Play at least one Dungeons & Dragons game

8 – Be able to afford more VO training

9 – BLOG MORE

Tales of Yesteryear Told in Future Tense

The year 2020 hasn’t turned out the way any of us had planned it. But looking now my 2020 Vision from the beginning of the year and isn’t all that cloudy.
Along with being an artist and writer, I had begun training to become a voice actor for animation.
Things may have slowed down some, but they haven’t stopped. I’m still writing, and am regularly doing artwork for books by Airship 27 Productions.
I continue taking more classes towards my acting career.
At my wife encouragement I have joined a local chapter of Toastmasters – Toastmasters 4 Writers. What could be more perfect.
At a meeting nearly a year ago, before I officially joined I did an Impromptu ‘Table Topics’ speech which I won, and it set off my Determination to become a Voice Actor.
This past Saturday (August 8th, 2020) I gave my first speech. An ‘Icebreaker’ speech they call it, introducing myself to the group.
As I wrote my speech I began to realize the moment in my life that set me off on the road to being an artist, writer, and now actor. It all began with ‘Old Time Radio.’

What follows is my Toastmasters Icebreaker speech, entitled:
“Tales of Yesteryear Told in Future Tense”.
(Points to those who know what two radio programs that is a reference to.)

Tales of Yesteryear Told in Future Tense

New Cover Art for my first novel CLOCKWORK GENIE

I have done some reworking on the novel, and on the cover as well.
I digitally painted it in Painter and Photoshop.

Additionally I tweeked the subtitle:  A Paranormal Romance Mystery

You can buy a copy of the novel at any ebook distributor.

Amazon Kindle

Smashwords

Barnes and Nobel Nook

Hikky from MIDNIGHT HORROR SCHOOL

Years ago, my wife and I had the opportunity to write several episodes of the Japanese animated series MIDNIGHT HORROR SCHOOL, created by Naomi Iwata
The show was a relative success in Japan and many other countries around the world, unfortunately they were able find a market to sell the show to here in the U.S.A. So we were never able see our episodes broadcast in English.
I would have really been nice to show them to people, especially to help promote our animation careers for other series.
Maybe it’s not too late.

Hikky and his school friends are objects that human students loose during the school day. Such as a pencil that falls off your desk. At night the school becomes magical and all these lost objects become alive and go to their own school. There they learn to do amazing things and to one day graduate and become one of the Wonders of The World.

It was a fun series to work on. It got me my first animation writing credit and membership into the Animation Writers Caucus of the Writers Guild of America West.

Libraries

While at last weeks Sister’s in Crime meeting it was mentioned how this was National Library Week, and it got me to thinking of the Libraries in my life.
I suppose the first library I knew was the one in Elementary School, it was a side room to the Multi-Purpose room, and didn’t have a lot of books, but enough for what was needed for the school.
The second Library was when our town opened up a brand new city library. There had been a previous library, going way back to when it was shelves in a corner store. The main library is now a museum, but when the new library was opened my mother made certain that I was the first one there when the doors opened and I was the first to get a library card in the new library.

I was never a great reader growing up. Having to take special course to help improve my reading.  Thank goodness for those instructors because they let me know that it was okay to read comic books. “If he’s reading, let him read.”

Later, in Junior High and High School, I spent a lot of time at the school libraries.  Mostly it was to get away from the bullies of the school. I didn’t have a lot of friends then, but I did have books.  I probably read more books during those lunch hours than I had anytime previously.  I’m very thankful for those times.

I would continue to go back to our city library, renewing my library card every few years.

Now I live in another city with a great big library dedicated to the arts. I know I’m going to be spending a lot of time there.

And perhaps one day, one of my books will be in a library near you.  Would you check me out please?

Meet the Artist

Meet the Artist by KevinPSB4

I found out about this a little late, but thought I’d do my own drawing and throw it in the mix. That’s me, or a bad clone.

“The Crypt”

Been rereading HP Lovecraft this past few weeks. He’s not my normal read, but I like it from time to time. While reading the story “The Tomb” an idea of my own popped in my head whole though the ending surprised me. Wrote it in about three hours, and took a couple of days to edit. It maybe more Bradbury’s Dark Carnival than Lovecraft.  What follows is my very short story (Flash Fiction?) Let me know what you think.

“The Crypt”

by Kevin Paul Shaw Broden

The sun was only minutes from setting when I drove between the freshly white washed walls and rod iron gates. There would be less than half an hour before the caretaker would lock up for the evening so we didn’t have much time.

“Thank you for coming with me Arleen,” I said to my fiancée next to me as we drove between expansive green fields dotted with flat rectangular stones.

“Of course, John. I know family means everything to you.”

“I’m glad you understand. Especially since most of my family is here.”

My car left the newer green lawns behind and pulled on to gravel-covered paths between ancient trees that stood sentinel with weeping branches for those they guarded.

After parking, Arleen and I walked deeper into the darker and older parts of the cemetery.

Before us stood dozens of massive stones, each with my family name etched and carved into the marble and granite with a litany of names and dates. This land had once belonged to my family, and this had been their private graveyard. Over the years as the family spread out, and the population of the town increased, these fields were donated to the community and a necropolis was born.

I led Arleen between the cyclopean monuments, telling her of this great uncle, or that great great-grand father who went insane.

“There seems to be a lot of that in your family tree.”

“What?” I asked with great concern.

“You’re marrying me, aren’t you,” she laughed at her own joke. I did not find it all that funny, but politely smiled.

“Back here we have the oldest of my ancestors. They’re all in the—”

That’s when I saw them.

Three teenage hooligans huddling around iron-gate of my ancestors’ final home. One of them was rattling the lock and chain that sealed the ancient crypt.

“Hey, stay away from there,” Arleen shouted at them, “That’s private property!”

The boys turned at the sound, their faces drawn, eyes sunken; they looked like skeletons freshly up from their graves.

Quickly glancing about I spotted matches, aluminum foil, syringes and the rest of their drug paraphernalia sitting atop cousin Herbert’s stone. I half smiled realizing that if he was alive he’d probably join in their festivities.

The tallest of the three, who perhaps hadn’t yet lost his manhood to the drug, snarled at us. “Whose property? Ain’t nobody here to complain. Go away if you know what’s good for you!”

“This is his family!”

“Oh, it’s his family is it? Maybe he’d like to join them.” At the man’s words the other two pulled out knives.

Arleen now really was scared, but I took her hand and gave it a squeeze of reassurance that everything would be all right.

“You do know there are reasons why that gate is chained and locked up strong,” I said as one of the boys turned back to attempting to break open the old rusted lock.

“Ya, to keep out thieves like him!” Arleen snapped at them with a renewed surge of confidence.

“There ain’t a lot that can keep me out.” The man snarled again.

“Perhaps,” I let him have his ego, “there are some locks that aren’t meant to keep people out, rather they are to keep things from getting out.”

It took a second to sink in to their drug addled brains. The two knife wielding lowlifes looked at me then glanced at the old rusted lock and chain on the crypt’s iron door.

“Follow my lead,” I whispered to Arleen as the leader of the small gang swatted the heads of his compatriots like the stooges they were.

“Don’t listen to him, you fools. He’s just messing with you. There’s nothing there—”

“Shush.”

“Don’t ‘shush’ me!” He snapped back at me.

“I wasn’t talking to you.” I replied matter-of-factly, but stared into the darkness of the crypt behind him and then said; “Go back to sleep, they won’t be bothering you much longer.”

Arleen looking at me like I was crazy, but I again squeezed her hand in reassurance.

“Who the hell are you talking to?” He shouted at me.

I sighed, “You see, my family doesn’t like to be disturbed.”

“Do you think we’re mad?!” He shouted.

“There is little doubt.” I replied with a smirk and then made my eyes go wide with fear and took a step back.

“I warned you,” I said with as much terror I could muster and pointed a long finger toward the crypt behind him.

“Run!” I screamed and pulled Arleen with me. We took off towards the newer plots, but at an angle I could keep an eye on the three drugged out trespassers. They must never have confronted anyone like us before for their leader just stared at us in utter confusion. His lackeys were even more so. One of them must have jumped at my sudden shout and stepped backwards bumping into the rod-iron gate. The rusty old chain rattled into the darkness of the crypt and echoed out against at them like a cold breeze on their necks.

That’s all it took. The three jumped and screamed as one and ran as fast as they ever could. They soon over took us and were many yards a head and running for the exit of the cemetery. Perhaps the caretaker would catch them, perhaps not.

We stopped running and I gave a loud laugh at such a sight.

“That was very cruel to do to them,” Arleen said but couldn’t help laughing herself as we headed back to the stones.

It was then, as the last rays of sunlight faded, we heard the rattle of the chain once more as it fell loose, followed by a low screech of rusted hinges of the ancient iron-gate.

My family had arrived to celebrate our engagement.

The End

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