Bobbing org

My wife Nikki came up with this slogan.

Happy Thanksgiving, Americans! Do all your holiday shopping online this year.

It’s nearly Thanksgiving again, which for me means reflecting on and being grateful for you, the wonderful people who allow me to make ridiculous things for a living. Thank you all so much! And this year, I would like to extend a particular thanks to two groups who’ve meant a lot to me: bloggers and libraries.

Bloggers are the lifeblood of my business. You folks who mention Wondermark on your blogs, Twitters, LiveJournals, Facebooks, CraniumDumps, or even just email a favorite strip to a friend, are what keep this enterprise growing and running on all cylinders. So here’s my offer:

I will give away ten free copies — not just copies, Artist Editions! — of Clever Tricks to Stave Off Death to folks who blog about Wondermark between now and the end of November.

Stated another way: Blog about Wondermark, send me the link to what you wrote using this handy form, and I’ll enter you in a contest for one of ten free sketched-in copies of my latest book. You can write about anything Wondermark-related — a favorite episode, a particular product I offer, or just the strip in general — and you can enter as many times as you like (as long as each entry is for a separate post, on any platform). I’ll choose and award the winners in the first week of December, and the books will be absolutely free. I’ll pay the shipping, anywhere in the world! And even if you already own the book: a second copy could make a great gift for someone you love.

The second institution I’m indebted to is libraries. The Los Angeles library system has been of tremendous aid to me over the years of Wondermark, and I regularly patronize my local branch for all types of materials. I got super-inspired in a library in Charlotte once, and I’ve even browsed the Library of Congress in Washington for Wondermark-related material!

I know many libraries are chronically under-funded, so here’s my offer for libraries: send me a note explaining a little about your library (or similar institution that could use more books), and I will choose ten to receive a copy of Clever Tricks, absolutely free. I wish I could afford to give away more, but I am pleased to award these ten. One request per institution, please — and I’d like to also ask that the requests come from library staff, or at least from someone acquainted with the library’s donation policy. I don’t really want to send books to someplace that won’t know what it is or why it’s being sent! A staff member is a good point of contact.

All requests — bloggers and libraries — must come through the forms on this page; emailed or other requests will not be considered.

Finally, an opportunity for everyone else: If you would like to buy an extra copy of Clever Tricks, or Beards of our Forefathers, to be awarded to a library — you can do that here. Simply buy the books and write “Library donation” in the Special Instructions box at checkout. I’ll donate these copies to libraries above and beyond the ten I’ll already be sending out. If you’ve been enjoying my comics for free, but don’t necessarily want a book or a shirt or anything for yourself, this is a great way to help out a worthy institution. If you don’t want me to thank you publicly, please also write “Anonymous” in the Special Instructions box.

The deadline for both contests is November 30. Go to it!

The Cop Who Plays By All The Rules

The night pecked spotty rain against Officer Jack “Bulletproof” Bulletproof’s patrol-car windshield. Through the dappled glass, a Jeep sat idling on the highway shoulder, its blinker still flashing at the black cornfield beyond. In the seat next to Bulletproof, Officer Daytona Follies frowned at the cruiser’s computer. “Looks bad, Jack,” she said, glancing up at the Jeep. “One prior, time served, for petty theft. Could be a runner.”

Bulletproof eased his door handle open, taking in the situation. “Let’s proceed,” he finally said. “With caution.”

Follies nodded. Affixing his cap smartly, Bulletproof stepped out into the sprinkling night, his flashlight tracing a line through the Jeep’s side windows, illuminating a mound of blankets, a couple fast-food bags, a book. When the light reached the driver, Bulletproof tensed — the man was a scarecrow, folded behind the wheel like a coat hanger in a shoebox, his limbs lean and ropy. Still, best to take it by the book. “License and registration,” Bulletproof said, and the man complied.

The license told them nothing they didn’t know, and the tags were in order. Bulletproof handed the cards back to the driver (one Wenslow Ramplewaithe of 418 Oakwood), who squinted in the glare of Bulletproof’s Maglite. “Do you know why I pulled you over?” Bulletproof asked, careful not to let his tone betray any irritation. The man was a human being, after all, and it wasn’t his fault it had been a long shift for the cops.

“Dunno,” Ramplewaithe mumbled. Then his eyes lit — “Oh, if it’s that headlight, I’ve got a fix-it ticket already. I’m planning on getting it sorted tomorrow morning first thing.”

“You were going twenty-five miles per hour,” Bulletproof said. “On the highway.”

“The rain makes me nervous,” Ramplewaithe said, as Bulletproof watched a bead of sweat roll down his jawbone and disappear into his collar.

Bulletproof narrowed his eyes. “Step out of the car, please,” he said, as nicely as he could.

Ramplewaithe’s gaze darted from Bulletproof to Follies, standing by the passenger’s door with a hand on her gun, and back. Bulletproof could almost see the man’s brain tick through his possible options, and settle on the only logical one. He pried himself out of the Jeep.

Follies rounded the front of the car and leaned close to Bulletproof. “I don’t like this, Jack,” she murmured. “I say we take him downtown.”

“He hasn’t done anything,” Bulletproof whispered back. “He’s innocent until proven guilty.”

Follies spat on the ground. “He’s nervous,” she sneered. “Something’s up. I say we torture him. He must have done something.”

“Now, now,” Bulletproof said. “Let’s see where this goes.”

Ramplewaithe took off running, headed for the inky darkness of the cornfield.

“I got him, Jack!” Follies shouted, bolting after the man and whipping her Taser from its holster. “He’s coming down!”

“No!” Bulletproof called out, lunging into a sprint and grabbing Follies’ extended arm. The Taser fired into the ground, its prongs bouncing harmlessly against asphalt. Bulletproof reached the edge of the road as Ramplewaithe began sliding down the incline toward the field.

“Jack, are you crazy?” Follies cried, running up behind Bulletproof while struggling to fit another cartridge into her Taser. “I had him!”

“He wasn’t threatening lethal force,” Bulletproof said, squinting at the retreating form, gauging the distance. He plucked his baton from his belt and weighed it gently in his hand. “At his body weight, the shock might have killed him.”

“Well, if you’re not going to shoot him, you might as well run after him!” Follies shrieked, sliding partway down the incline, stumbling for her footing on the muddy slope. Bulletproof cocked his head into the wind.

Ramplewaithe reached the bottom of the slope, only a few short yards from the swaying, shadowed cornstalks. Bulletproof counted to three, hurled the baton, and pegged Ramplewaithe right between the shoulder blades. The man crumpled like a bag of baseball bats.

Follies slid to a stop. “Nice shot,” she said, and whistled appreciatively.

“The Department mandates we attend elective extracurricular training seminars twice a month,” Bulletproof shrugged. “I’ve been to the Baton Hurling one thirty times. It’s my favorite.”

Follies reached Ramplewaithe and turned the man onto his back. “Now listen here, you lowlife,” she growled. “Do we need to get rough here? I can dance all night.”

“Go to heck, copper,” Ramplewaithe spat.

“No! Ramplewaithe!” Bulletproof shouted, making his way down the slippery incline. “You have the right to remain silent! Anything you say may be used against you in a court of law! You have the right to an attorney! If you cannot afford one, one will be provided!”

Ramplewaithe parted his cracked lips to curse, then closed them again. “You’re right,” he breathed. “It’s over. Lissen. In the Jeep. Behind the back seat. Fifteen, thirty-two, ten.”

“Jack!” Follies cried. “Jeep! Back seat!”

“I’m not leaving your sight until he’s handcuffed,” Bulletproof said, reaching the bottom of the slope, picking up his baton and sliding it back into his belt. Ramplewaithe offered up no resistance, considering how easily he could be overpowered by the both of them.

They dragged the cuffed Ramplewaithe back and set him stiffly into the patrol car, Bulletproof directing the man’s head safely past the doorframe. The perp contained, they turned to the Jeep.

Behind the back seat, beneath all the blankets, was a safe. “Fifteen, thirty-two, ten,” Follies said. Bulletproof quickly turned the dial.

Inside was little Sarah Waterbury, reported missing the day before and the subject of a statewide Amber Alert. Gasping for air, she tumbled into the Jeep’s cargo compartment on hands and knees. Follies scooped up the girl, who seemed to be all right, save for a scare.

“If I’d Tased him, and he’d died or passed out — I don’t know what we would have done, Jack,” Follies said sheepishly. “This little girl could have died in there.”

“Ah, ah — save it for the statement,” Bulletproof smiled, reaching for his radio to call in the paramedics. “We’ll be up all night doing paperwork for this one.”

October was Steampunk Month at Tor.com! The (primarily science-fiction) publisher Tor Books maintains Tor.com as an online magazine featuring articles, essays, short fiction, and other entertaining material, and I was honored to be asked to create an illustration for a story entitled “The Strange Case of Mr. Salad Monday”, by GD Falksen. You can read the story, and check out my illustration, right on over here!

Wondermark holiday cards are now available from TopatoCo! I’ve given them my popular “Shepherds” and “Jail” designs as well as two other brand-new cards that you should check out right now.

A nice thing about TopatoCo handling the cards is that you can mix & match a Wondermark order with cards from other artists all in one go! There’s a very diverse mix available, and I hope you discover some other designs to enjoy as well.

I also have some limited quantities of older card designs still in stock in my own store — but I should let you know that the holiday cards are going pretty fast and I probably won’t be reprinting them now that TopatoCo’s on the job.

Also important to note: TopatoCo has posted its holiday shipping deadlines for all merchandise that needs to be received by Christmas. Bottom line: order sooner rather than later, especially for international orders. Or, save on shipping and mosey over to TopatoCo HQ in Massachusetts this weekend for another housecleaning tag sale, and pick up wonderful T-shirt gifts for the whole family! It will be a good time to be had by some.

Finally: I am working on a limited-edition 2010 calendar, and was hoping to have it available for sale before Thanksgiving, but as they’re hand-made and thus dependent on the availability of supplies (some of which have been discontinued by the manufacturer), it’s going to take a little longer. Watch for those in December, and if you want holiday cards too, you shouldn’t wait to buy them both together. I’d hate for folks to not receive their cards until it’s too late to send them out! I also don’t know how many of the cards TopatoCo printed, so I’d really recommend getting those early. Hooray for things!