All posts by Nimue Brown

Births, Deaths, Marriages, Island News

Israel Skelton has baked his last pie

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Leading spookologist and pie maker Israel Skelton has sadly departed from this life. We wait with interest to see if he will return as one of the ghosts, either to continue his ghostly mapping, or his pie making. Either seems possible.

Regulars at The Black Swann Bakery will of course know that for the last seventeen years, Israel Skelton has faithfully kept the shop stocked with tasty, largely edible pies. The secret of his crust goes with him to the grave, having been the subject of great speculation for those seventeen years. What was he making the pastry out of? We will never know. What made the gravy so tasty? The mystery remains. These two factors transformed otherwise normal Hopeless pie fillings into something one could almost feel enthusiasm for eating. It is rare praise to heap upon a person.

Israel Skelton leaves behind him a lifetime’s study of spookology – a patient mapping of ghostly activity around the town and beyond. His work established beyond any doubt that ghosts do disappear sometimes. His extensive interviews with ghostly residents shed almost no light on the issue of life after death – but we have come to know that ghosts have no more idea how being a ghost works than the living have insight into what that’s all about.

His was a life lived fully, and shaped by his twin passions for pies and ghosts. It’s not often one can say this of a person – that they lived their dream to the full, right up to the end.

Mithra Stubbs tells us that she shut the pie machine down very quickly but that there was a considerable amount of her colleague missing at this point. Food waste is a terrible thing, of course, and so she did the decent thing and baked the remaining pies. Some of you are, in effect, Israel Skelton’s final resting place, but comfort yourself in the knowledge that it might have been exactly what he wanted.

Speculation is already rife that the pie machine was in some way possessed by a malevolent and hungry force. Mithra told me this is nonsense and that the pie machine clearly loved Israel and always seemed excited when he came into the room.

Based on Israel’s own work, we understand that haunting tend to follow the bones or stay at the death site, except in the rare cases of strong willed individuals like Miss Calder. If Israel returns, will it be to haunt the machine that ate him, to haunt what remains of his remains, or to haunt those of you who ate his last pies? I can only feel it’s a question that would have greatly interested him.

 

You can find the rest of Israel Skelton over here – http://skeltoncrewstudio.com/  with comics related goodies, including Hopeless Maine pins.

This death was brought to you by the Hopeless Maine kickstarter. If you feel cheated of your death because you missed the early bird pledges, just let us know when you pledge and we’ll slide you gently into the mass grave we have planned.

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/countrostov/tales-of-hopeless-maine

Births, Deaths, Marriages, Island News

Mark Lawrence is dead, again

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Today it is my uneasy task to announce to you, my fellow citizens, the latest death of Mark Lawrence. I’d like to say ‘apparent death’ and make it sound like these are simple reporting errors, but I was there for death number three, and I saw what the sea monster did to him. I do not believe that any normal human being could have survived being torn into quite so many pieces.

I have been reliably informed by witnesses to his first death – crushed to a bloody pulp by a falling gravestone – that this death was not survivable, either. At his second death, Mark was bludgeoned to death after a minor disagreement with an immodest number of Chevins. Death four saw our unlikely returnee trapped in a burning building. Nothing remained of the building, and yet… Death five involved a singularly improbable drowning, and death six a rather gory impaling on the fence outside the town hall – which many of you were unfortunate enough to witness. For his seventh death, Mr Lawrence was swept into the sea by an unusually large wave during recent storms.

I feel, and not for the first time, that he is playing with us. How, and why remains a mystery. I have no evidence to prove my point but I ask, can a man die so many times and in such extraordinary ways and not somehow be considered responsible? What kind of sorcerer is he? What ungodly powers are at his command? I shall only speculate until he returns of course, and then I shall go back to keeping sensibly quiet about the whole thing.

Something of a cult-like nature has grown up around the many deaths of Mark Lawrence. So, the usual wailing and keening will take place tomorrow morning at the statue we put up in his honour the first time he died. Betting will then follow as to how long it will take him to return this time. I have been informed that this time there will, with all due pomp and ceremony, be a retelling of his deaths and returns to date.

Until evidence emerges to the contrary, I think we should assume that this latest death is only a temporary setback, and that Mark Lawrence will return to us, as whole and hale as before at some point of his choosing. And then we can get on with the now also traditional ‘lo he has returned to us’ party with all that invariably implies.

 

The Hopeless Maine kickstarter is now out of obituary spots. However, if you pledge and feel sad that you can’t have an obituary, just let us know… we’re sorting out a mass grave for anyone who needs it! https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/countrostov/tales-of-hopeless-maine

 

Mark Lawrence (for the few who are not yet aware of this) is one of the finest writers of fantasy in the world, at all-ever.  To explore his work, you would do well to go here.

Births, Deaths, Marriages, Island News

In Memory of Rebecca Willson

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With so few ways to pass the long, grim evenings, it’s a sad inevitability that some people die from their attempts to alleviate the boredom. It must be said that Becca ‘poo-head’ Willson has done remarkably well to survive this long, given her penchant for games involving sharp and pointy implements.

Last week’s drinking contest at The Squid and Teapot resulted in five casualties, and while the other four participants might yet recover – as yet there’s no news from the Hunger Hill Home for the Weak and Confused – Rebecca Willson, did not. She did however, win the drinking competition in question having seen her four challengers slump beneath the table in turn, while she continued with the night potato vodka, seemingly unaffected.

Night potato vodka is a new delicacy for the island, but one that we may not enjoy again in the future, given the implications.

Somewhere in the second round of contested drinking, observers noted that Becca had become unusually pale and transparent – something she had not previously been known for.  During the third round, she began to emit a faint glow and by the fourth round that glow had become pronounced. Friends begged her to stop drinking but reports have it that she laughed, did a little bum-wiggling dance and went for another bottle. Shortly afterwards, the glow increased, until by the end of the evening, there was mostly just glow, and very little corporeal presence left.

It was later discovered that an agent of change had drowned in the last bottle, which may have led to these devastating effects. No one I have spoken to is inclined to experiment with this for the sake of discovering the truth, which seems fair enough.

It may henceforth be most appropriate to consider Rebecca Willson deceased. She’s turned out to be one of those awkward cases where the status of the person becomes uncertain. While mostly non-corporeal, a glowing entity believed to be her remains present in a corner of The Squid and Teapot. Phantasmagorical bum-pinching has become something of an issue in the pub, if further evidence were required that in some way at least, she remains with us.

As there is no body to bury, we’re going to have a massive wake for her in the pub.

 

This death was brought to you by the Hopeless Maine kickstarter. At time of writing we are nearly out of empty graves… https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/countrostov/tales-of-hopeless-maine

Births, Deaths, Marriages, Island News

Bob Fry – the inevitable has come to pass

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Readers, it is with great sorrow but no surprise that I must announce to you the departure from this life of Mr Bob Fry. It has been apparent to those of us who know him, that his war against spoonwalkers must eventually be his undoing. Friends will remember the spoonwalker deterrent of a few years ago that instead opened some kind of portal through which a modest abomination attempted to get a hold on the island. Anyone who attended last year’s church picnic will never forget the anti-spoonwalker missile and the absolute destruction of the cake table. Granted, there had been a spoonwalker on the cake table, but there had also been seventeen cakes, an assortment of china and several casually resting hands and elbows that will never be quite the same again.

Bob has been a distinctive figure on the island in recent years. Those of you who do not know him by name will no doubt have seen him, silhouetted against some dramatic sky as, armed with net and club he pursued thieving spoonwalkers across the hilltops of Hopeless. The skyline will not be quite the same without him.

Those of us who have lived here longer and wrangled with spoonwalkers ourselves had tried to tell him. They aren’t easy to kill. They look like they should be – small and squishy as they are. But, luck favours them in the most unreasonably ways. I am certain that it is only their uncanny good fortune that allows them to pilfer spoons from householders with such great success.

Dear, departed Bob had a love of spoons to rival that of any spoonwalker. His spoon collection is a marvel to behold, and he has protected it with a ferocity that has, inevitably, killed him.

It is my understanding that last week, Bob set off on what would be his final hilltop pursuit of his sworn enemies. He was seen from afar by Gommer and Gof Chevin – the twins were horribly drunk at the time so it took them several days to sober up enough to mention this to anyone. They report that three or four Bob Frys ran across the headland together, and that this sight was incredibly funny. Bob, or perhaps Bobs, cornered the spoonwalker on a rocky outcrop and attempted to reclaim the spoons it had taken. However, the cliff edge proved unstable, and Bob was dropped unceremoniously into the sea.

We wait with interest for the reading of his will and to discover the name of the person, or persons who will inherit his most exceptional spoon collection. In the meantime, some of our more responsible citizens have removed said spoon collection from Bob’s abode, to the safety of The Squid and Teapot, where all of the spoons, I am assured, will be kept perfectly safe.

 

Bob Fry died as a direct consequence of his pledging to our kickstarter. We have some slots remaining (at time of writing) so if you would like to see your own preposterous Hopeless Maine death scenario, follow the link… https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/countrostov/tales-of-hopeless-maine 

Births, Deaths, Marriages, Island News

Bertram Fiddle’s death a total mystery

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It is my unhappy duty today to inform you that beloved islander Bertram Fiddle has died. Bertram was declared dead in the surgery of Doc Willoughby late last evening. It is only by chance that I happened to be passing as Doc Willoughby was attempting to remove the body from his office, and in assisting him, I was able to also interview him about the tragic death of this much loved local figure.

Here are the various answers our good doctor gave to the question ‘how did Bertram die?’ I repeat them here in the order in which I recall them which may not be the order they were given in – as I was helping move a body at the time I had no free hands with which to make notes.

“It was nothing to do with me.

It was an accident, clearly. He just came in here and died, just like that. Didn’t even tell me what was wrong with him first.

He was a dear, dear friend with whom I have never once had anything even slightly resembling a falling out. I would certainly never have hit him. And we weren’t drinking. We were going drinking together, you understand, but we had not actually started drinking.

It’s a complete mystery to me how he died, but death often is a mystery, isn’t it?”

Readers, I can only leave you to draw your own conclusions.

It is a tragic loss to the island. We will all miss his unique humour, his unique facial hair, and his unique relationship with reality. I also note with some unease that we have now lost our one resident detective. Who can forget his work on the case of the uncanny night shaving, or his relentless efforts to solve the conundrum of the pig in the latrine? And now, faced with the mysterious death of Bertram Fiddle himself, who amongst us has the skill and determination to step up and find answers?

Not that island justice can be relied upon to deliver anything much. Whether it’s our usual apathetic response of shrugging and supposing we have to live with it, or our heavy handed torches and pitchforks response that invariably punishes the wrong person anyway… justice is not our collective strongpoint. And I can only feel, in the sad loss of Bertram Fiddle, that our collective scope for justice has just taken a sorry blow and may never truly recover from it.

There will be a memorial service next week, and a wake, but no actual funeral because Doc Willoughby was so upset that he just got on and buried his dear friend himself.

 

You can find what remains of Bertram Fiddle here – https://www.bertramfiddle.com/

Bertram’s death is in no small part a consequence of the kickstarter we have underway at the moment. At time of posting, we have 38 open graves remaining for would-be corpses. https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/countrostov/tales-of-hopeless-maine

Hopeless

Hopeless Maine extras

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Let’s start with some technical details. It takes about six months of Tom working full time to draw a Hopeless Maine graphic novel. On top of this, I do about 2 hours of work on each page, plus the writing time, so let’s call that 200 hours on each book at least. Now consider how much you think a person needs to earn in a six month period.

If a comic print run is 2000 books, at £10 a pop, the entire run is worth £20,000. Half of this will disappear into the hands of distributors, and bookshops. In the case of direct sales at events, those also have costs. So let’s say that half the money does indeed make it back to the publisher – that’s 10k. The publisher has to pay for the printing, the warehouse storage and the other costs of being a publisher. What remains, pays the wages of the publisher, the artist and the author. It doesn’t add up to a massive heap of beans. It is not possible, in small scale comics publishing, to earn enough to live on, simply. Not for the creators, and not for the publishers.

Some creators and publishers manage this by making comics alongside doing a job. This means the comics are much slower to create, and you’ve got the added pressure of working 2 jobs, or more.

So, that’s the gloomy bit. However, we do manage and we are committed to getting this series finished. One of the things that really helps is the small stream of income I get from Patreon. A bit of predictability goes a long way. I also work an assortment of day jobs as a freelance sort of person, and Tom also takes other paying work, but there just aren’t enough hours in a day for this to be easy. We are both a long way from being bright young things who can work forty and fifty hour weeks without massive consequences.

Right now on Patreon, there’s a new Mrs Beaten story for supporters. https://www.patreon.com/posts/tale-from-maine-29332415  I’ve also been serialising New England Gothic – a prose prequel to the graphic novels. Supporters get new videos before anyone else, and at the glass heron level, we post things out as well. It gives Hopeless Maine enthusiasts more to chew on, and it gives us more money to buy stuff to chew on, which we like. We’ve tried the hungry creator model, and it really doesn’t work for either of us.

If you are able and willing to get more involved, thank you, from the bottoms of our hearts and the hearts of our bottoms.

https://www.patreon.com/NimueB 

Art of the island

The Dustcat Wrecking Ball

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Dustcats are generally rather cute entities, prone to floating about and slurping up dust. If a single dustcat feels threatened, it may spew dust at you. Unpleasant for most people, fatal for anyone with serious allergies.

On rare occasions when a large number of dustcats all feel put out, threatened, offended or enraged at the same time, they form a wrecking ball. All the soft bits go in the middle, all the pointy bits on the outside. It looks something like this…

Hopeless Music

Show me your tentacles

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This song emerged as a consequence of a conversation with Meredith Debonnaire. We were talking about what kinds of things people might sing in the pub in Hopeless Maine. The pub in question being The Squid and Teapot.

I firmly believe that no matter how grim and depressing the circumstances, there will always be people who can find something to laugh at. Or be rude about. Humour is how we cope with things, so in a grim environment, it makes sense that some people would be all about the giggles whenever possible.

And so, when we were at Blist’s Hill for The Town That Never Was  (a good place for song writing, I am finding) I put this together…

Many thanks to everyone who has contributed to the tentacles we have at home!

Hopeless Music

Spidermilk biscuits

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This is a piece that came about because The Keith of Mystery wanted to do a Hopeless Maine Home Companion set at the Stroud steampunk weekend. The original Home Companion had sponsors, including powdermilk biscuits. Tom Brown – familiar with the original – did something disturbing in a Hopeless Maine sort of way.

This recording doesn’t really do justice to the live experience – we had half a dozen people on the groaning, all horribly out of tune with each other. It was truly magical.

Hopeless inhabitants

The Queer Quilting Bee

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Here we have a two page spread from the next instalment of Hopeless Maine, the book that, all being well, will come out in 2020. Our two page spread theme for the next book will be people doing the make do and mend activities that keep life on the island going. Partly to tell a wider story about island life, and partly because we’re interested in promoting these things as a more sustainable way of being in this world.

Rather a long time ago, Tom’s then housemate asked him where the queer characters were in Hopeless. It led us to have a conversation about it – for most characters we just don’t see what’s going on in their love lives, so the queer folk of the island are often invisible. But, we know who they are, and when we get into the prose fiction there should be more space for this sort of thing.

In this image we have several ‘confirmed bachelors’ with all this implies. We have several asexual characters. There’s one character who worries about mis-gendering devices (one day I will finish the prose book she is in, and people will be able to read it…) At the moment we don’t know much about the two women in the foreground, but I think they’re a couple.

The other thing we’re going to do with the upcycling scenes is avoid grouping people in gender stereotypical ways. Where resources are scant, craft skills are essential for everyone, and the idea that some of these things are innately masculine or feminine is not going to be a thing.