I don’t have artwork to offer this St. Patricks day, so please do enjoy this video of Megan giving you Irish cheer instead. Stay safe out there!
This was a commission I did for someone off of Fiverr, for a sample layout of their poem book. This was a bit of fun to do, and I really got a chance to experiment with the background a little. It does look a tad bit wonky in my opinion, and that’s because I think my figures are now starting to take a more realistic slant in proportions. That’s a good thing, I would think; except when you’re halfway in between styles.
Author’s Note: This was supposed to be a short episode for the end of the month, but actually ended up being just as long as a regular blog serial installment. So I apologize for not have the additional illustrations that would go along with such a lengthy piece. That aside, please do enjoy!
It was one of those odd times that Heather had actually experienced. Usually she was late, stumbling into the kitchen sloppily dressed. But this particular morning she actually had woken up in time with the rest of the household. The air was cooler, having sent her sleeping deeply the previous night. The daylight had changed and now resembled early in the afternoon. Her whole body knew that a change of season was upon them.
Today’s tasks were a bit mundane, mostly with clearing fallow grass from the back garden. There might be an errand into the inner town for Elizabeth, but only time would tell. At least she was able to take Fluff up and about.
This was one of these writing prompts off of Reddit I had the compelling urge to respond to. After all, I get to work in my anachronistic beach comber sketch! So I made a backstory for the character, pretended she was a painting and drummed this up.
Done in April 23, 2018.
Note: My writing for Reddit writing prompts is different for brevity. While this is a good example of my writing, I often omit backstory and several details to create a concise post. Please look at my other works if you’re looking for my more regular style of writing.
This was in the works since last fall actually, but I only got around to getting it done within the past few days. But I’ve had this idea of taking a girl from each faction on Talmeron, and sticking them together as if they were getting ready for a harvest festival. This was the end result!
Lineart courtesy Christina Weinman.
Happy St. Patrick’s Day! With that, Jennifer sends her heartfelt wishes for the holiday. Thanks to Christina Weinman for the lines.
West Hills. Why did it have to be West Hills?
Heather trudged down the dirt and gravel path that led out of the main section of Ellowwood. A twenty-pound bag of wheat was in her arms, having been tasked to deliver it to an elderly couple out on the west side of town.
And not just west town, West Hills. Outside the town charter, maybe half a mile towards the heavy forest and where the island ended. Where more weird stuff lived, causing her imagination to freak out about what she could randomly encounter. It didn’t matter if it was late afternoon and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky; the area still carried the same kind of connotations to it.
Heather stood at the outside of the blacksmith’s shop, her thoughts a total mess. She had elected to wait outside, letting Janus return the rope they had borrowed. The last thing she wanted to do was to explain to someone what had happened. And she knew that the friendly blacksmith would ask her questions of what she actually did with the rope.
The door creaked open, Janus coming out down the steps.
“Did he take it?”
Janus nodded. He looked a bit somber himself, as if the joy had been wiped from his face. That look alone made Heather’s heart ache, hanging her head as she shuffled along behind him.
Heather could hear Janus making his way down the hole. She waited pensively, feeling quite alone. How far had Janus gone in? Would he be all right? What was making the glow?
She wished he could’ve taken a lantern with him. Heather didn’t doubt that he had a source of light to go by, but it would’ve put her mind in ease. Her mind was overthinking what could happen or lie in wait.
She paced back and forth a little, listening the best she could. After a moment she looked up back at the hole.
“How are you doing? Are you all right?”