Day 10: Ac-Cent-Tchu-Ate the Positive

James Barnett‘s take on Children of the Corn

The cavalcade of tragic LDBC-elfies. The downfall of your loquacious leaders. It weighs on you.

Thus, it’s time to take a break from the constant carnage and focus on some sunnier topics, LDBCers. Like our final offering from admirably artistic James Barnett, whose Fright Club series of LDBC spins on famous horror-movie posters has been such a bright spot in a dark season. Above, he brings us his version of Children of the Corn.

First up, a tale of quick thinking, altruism, and a spirit of surfing to rival that of Bodhi himself as LDBCer Tracy Scarlato shares her tale of tasty waves and survival skills:

Fellow LDBC’ers, an amazing stroke of luck and good fortune came my way today. While looking for a sweatshirt in a surf shop just now, a surfer dude working the cash register nearly jumped out of his seat to complement me on my high top vans, and offered to pay me cold hard cash for them because they were so “rad.” (I declined.) I struck up a conversation with my new friend Josh, and since he was playing holiday music in the shop, I told him about LDBC. He looked at his computer and said, “Holy shit, it’s the next song on the playlist, we have literally 22 seconds to abort!” He immediately deleted the song for me so I could stay in the game (and invited me and Dave to a party down the street even though Dave isn’t here*). So here’s to all the Josh’s out there who are our guardian angels during this trying time. To Josh!

[*Editor’s note: Dave is Tracy’s husband. And that’s not a Cheech and Chong reference; Dave really wasn’t there.]

Also, while I’ve studiously avoided any hint of trying to monetize the LDBC over the years—my dream is to make it big enough that I can work in some sort of charitable component one day—I’m not averse to dropping in the occasional plug for LDBCers and their undertakings, particularly those who contribute their talents for free, help us out in some other way, or happen to strike me as just-plain good people. (I’ll include myself in that group, even though I’m not notably good because, hey—why not?) So without further ado:

  • I wrote a contemporary fantasy, The Commons: Book 1: The Journeyman (the cover’s up there in the right rail). It’s ebook-only for now, but a print edition is due in the next week or two. It’s been described as a magical-realism/metaphysical-fiction mix of Neil Gaiman, Stephen King, and Ray Bradbury, with a bit of Vonnegut and William Gibson thrown in. More here.
  • The aforementioned Mr. Barnett is your man in Phoenix, Tempe, or Scottsdale for wedding photos and portraits.
  • Your Name Gear is, as the name suggests, your place for personalized apparel. Hats, shirts, sweatshirts, and more—and they make perfect gifts!
  • For other nifty gifts this season, check out some of the designs on offer from LDBCer Claire E. Skinner’s Rocklawn Arts, including some truly neat phone cases, wrapping paper, mugs, and address labels.

That’s about all the can-do vibes I’ve got in me for this gray Sunday, people. But you’re always welcome to contribute more for consideration. I can’t and won’t include anything and everything, but if you’d like to have your business/hobby links or your kids’ holiday art looked at for potential future posts, make your way to the official LDBC contact page. (Please don’t post promo links on the Facebook page or in the comments here. Both places have been wondrously free of such stuff thus far, and I don’t want to have to get all censor-y and delete anything.)

That said, don’t you fret none about all this smile-slinging. The tragic LDBC-elfies continue to roll in, so we’ll return to the grim tidings soon enough.

For Susan!

Fright Club: Red Drum! Red Drum!

Heeeeere’s Drummie! Yes, faithful LDBCers, it’s the third in LDBC pal James Barnett’s Fright Club series, our shockingly sharable images based on classic horror flicks. (Just try his Alien and Exorcist work on for size.)

Here in round three, we see that some places are like people: some drum and some don’t. Please feel free to download and share tonight’s lovely Shining tribute.

And once again, keep in mind that Mr. Barnett is your man in Phoenix, Tempe, or Scottsdale for wedding photos and portraits.


Fright Club: Game Over, Man!

Yeah, I know I’m referencing James Cameron when I ought to be channeling Ridley Scott. I just like doing my Bill Paxton imitation.  As promised, here’s LDBC pal James Barnett’s second effort in the Fright Club series, our eminently sharable images based on classic horror flicks. (If you haven’t bathed in the beauty of his Exorcist take, you really should.)

This time, he brings us his retina-searing LDBC-angled interpretation of the classic poster for the aforementioned Scott’s Alien. Please download, share, or download and then share. We’re easy that way, friends.

As always, please don’t forget that Mr. Barnett is your man in Phoenix, Tempe, or Scottsdale for wedding photos and portraits.


Fright Club: The Devil Made LDB Do It

I’m damned glad to have met artist and LDBC pal James Barnett. (Don’t worry: in order to maintain balance in the universe, he’s very sorry he ever met me.) The man is a visual genius. Not only does he take wonderful wedding photos and portraits for those lucky enough to live in Phoenix, Tempe, or Scottsdale, and not only has he done some cool stuff with my novel, but he’s also a driving force behind some of my favorite Drummer Boy imagery. (A couple years back, he gave us the oft-used Drum Demon.)

Now he’s back and better than ever, contributing a wondrous series of sharable LDBC images inspired by classic horror movies. Being cruel generous as we are, we’re going to dole them out slowly so that you may suffer enjoy them as much as possible.

First up, an absolutely brilliant piece of work based on the poster from William Friedkin’s 1973 pea-soup classic The Exorcist. Please download and share the image, this post—whatever you wish. Let’s bring in as many friends, loved ones, and complete strangers as we can worldwide and really pollute enhance the holidays this year.