…there’s a whole lot of awesome in this picture. And The Road Warrior as a whole, sure. But her!
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There are several reasons why I’m largely out of the comics inking game- none of which I’ll bore you with. But! I’ll bore you with the reasons why I dive back in from time to time: generally, it’s because I like the property and/or the artist. Fortunately for me, the last book I inked, Vincent Price Presents: Dead Air, is a delicious combination of the two. Inking Vincent Price? Yes, please. Inking over the fabulous Brent Schoonover‘s pencils? Yes, please.
My work on the book was completed months and months (and months) ago, but I think the issue may finally hit stands very soon. If it hasn’t already. There’s not much info about it out there- publisher Bluewater Productions is more interested in making waves with their weird biographical comics line (a Nancy Pelosi comic? Hmm. Alright then.)- but you may come across it if you’re the type to hit comic shops.
Not gonna lie, however: I saw a few preview pages and the colors made me want to curl up and die. No offense intended to the colorist, but they didn’t seem to fit the vibe of the story much at all…and frankly, in the pages I saw, much of the linework was obliterated. My heart, she broke!
I love inking Brent’s pencils not only because his pencils are, you know, really effing good, but also because I think our styles suit each other. I tend to lay a chunky, brushy line- I know this sometimes doesn’t work so well over the way kids draw nowadays. But Brent’s work is a bit retro, sort of Jack Kirby-meets-Bruce Timm. There’s an old-school animated look to it, and I can dig right in with thick contours and feathering galore. Looking back at Vincent Price Presents, I think it’s some of the best work I’ve done- not that I’ve been inking for 50 years and “best work I’ve done” is really saying something, but I’m proud of my brushwork. So there.
Here’s a page without the offending colors; there are a few more in the inks gallery if you want to take a peek. And check out the book if you can find it! 
Okay, truth be told, this is probably My Personal Website v. 7864587634.o, but who’s counting? A couple of days ago I realized I hadn’t updated this place since March. MARCH. MAAARRRRRCH. I figured it was about time I did something about that since, you know, stuff has happened during those few months. MONTHS. Crap.
But my site was so hideous- well, maybe not hideous, but it was never anything close to what I wanted it to be- I could no longer stand it. So here we are. Streamlined, prettier, updated. As it should be.
I’m sure there’s lots more going on, but that’s all I can think of for now. I’m just trying to find the time to do all the things I want to do. Most of that is making stuff, yes, but then there’s also video games, reading, and playing with cats. As always, I need a damn haircut.
Meanwhile, take a look around the new digs. There’s probably some sketch cards or something you haven’t seen. I also posted a very small gallery of my inks. I’m not quite sure why, but they’re there. Sometimes I miss inking comics.
Anyway. I’ll be back soon.
This commission, from the insane 1979 slasher flick Tourist Trap, took me way too long to finish and waaaaaay too long to mail out. It’s the only time I’ve brainfarted like that on a request, and I’m thankful the recipient was extremely patient.
One of the first things I did after launching Operation: Stream Netflix Through My Xbox 360 (aka the best thing ever) was spend a lazy Sunday watching documentaries. By the time I was on my second doc of the day, I realized that there was a theme running through all the choices I had queued up: sex. More specifically, I suppose, the business of sex. From American Swing to Private Practices: The Story of a Sex Surrogate, I watched everything Netflix had to offer. Included in my flesh overload was Inside Deep Throat, a look at the story behind the infamous 1972 porno. The point of this intro, I guess, is that this painting of Deep Throat star Linda Lovelace.
Forgive the crappy photo, please.
The truth is, I’ve long considered starting a series of paintings of porn stars and this is as good a place as any to start. Sex work (in all its forms) completely fascinates me. I don’t judge anyone who engages in it, and I don’t romanticize it…but I can’t get enough of it. I’ve read Alexa Albert’s Brothel: Mustang Ranch and Its Women, and I’ve seen the unrelentingly depressing Born Into Brothels. It’s all endlessly intriguing, this peddling of flesh and intimacy.
I think the genesis of this dates back to my childhood…and before you get any ideas about what that might mean, let me explain.
When driving home from my gramma’s house, my mother always took the same way. This entailed driving down Bank Street, which, as I was led to believe, was a hotbed of nefarious activity. During the day, it was fine- but at night? My mom would practically induce panic with a “Make sure your doors are locked!” before we got there. Mind you, if it truly was that seedy and dangerous, I think she would have taken another route.
In my head, Bank Street was akin to the Bronx- or at least what 70s & early 80s television had be believe was the Bronx. There would be drug dealers and hookers on every corner, as far as the eye could see! Couple this notion with the story my mom told me about one of her childhood friends turning to prostitution later in life and, well, you can bet that my forehead was pressed against the car window during the entire trip down Bank Street (all two blocks of it) looking for illicit activity.
I never saw anything. Not a thing. No women in hot pants and thigh-high boots beckoning…and so, somehow, they became…I don’t know, extra-special. They might as well have been unicorns- every time we went home from gramma’s, I looked for hookers, every time in vain.
I can’t say that I don’t still look for them, because I do. Earlier this month I came home from the store and blurted to my roommate “I think I saw a hooker!” After disseminating the clues (strolling casually down Sepulveda in front of a string of cheap motels, constantly looking over her shoulder, umm…me spotting a car pull over in front of her…), we figure that yeah, she was.
My immediate urge was to grab a video camera, to start a documentary where I’d ask these women questions. To find out what their lives were like, if they’d answer; to find out what led them to a life walking up and down Sepulveda, to exchanging sex for money. When I threw this idea by my roommate, all excited because I’m endlessly curious about human nature, she simply said “Drugs.”
And she’s probably right. I know every story will be a sad one, that these women are closer to Kerry Washington in The Dead Girl than they are to Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. As I said, I don’t romanticize any of it…but the ugliness and sadness of it all doesn’t make their stories not worth telling. Maybe some day I will pick up a camera…but for now, I paint.
Man, I converted my personal website to a blog format because I thought it would make for easy updates. I suppose it does make for easy updates…I simply never do any updating. I’m not sure why that is. Or do I? I guess it’s because most of my life revolves around horror movies and for that, I’ve got Final Girl. I’m not sure what else to talk about, except maybe art. I haven’t done much in recent months, but I did recently paint MacReady from The Thing:

Someone commissioned a Thing painting from me- or rather, four paintings that, when combined, would form one large image. I’m still waiting to get the go ahead from the client. This is one of the rejected proposals; while it may not have been to his liking exactly, I dig it so I decided to paint it up.
See, isn’t that fascinating? What else? I’ve got a few projects at the not quite ready to talk about yet stage. I have plans for other projects, some which have been percolating in my brain place for months, if not years. For some, I just have to stop thinking about them and start doing them- that’s difficult for me, because I plan out everything before I put pencil to paper or fingers to keyboard or whatever to whatever. But there comes a time when my head is just running in circles and the thinking has to stop.
See, isn’t that fascinating? I could also tell you that I’ve been playing Mass Effect 2 and Dragon Age: Origins. I could tell you that because it’s true! I guess if I have a hobby, it’s video games. Eh, there are worse things I could do.

I suppose I could also tell you I’ve recently discovered George RR Martin’s series A Song of Ice and Fire. As much of a geek as I am, I’ve never much been able to get into fantasy novels. Not sure why. Not to sound douchey, but a friend of mine has been cast in HBO’s forthcoming adaptation of A Game of Thrones, the first volume of A Song of Ice and Fire, so I picked it up to check it out, to see what my friend was getting herself into, to see why hardcore Martin fans were so miffed that she was cast (the reason being, I suppose, is that said fans have never heard of WIGS).
Wow. The book hooked me right away. By the time I was halfway through, I couldn’t put it down. When I finished it after a marathon 200 page reading session, I immediately went out and picked up volume 2, A Clash of Kings. Martin is a fantastically engaging writer, and I guess my enjoyment of this fantasy series has granted me a +15 in nerdery. Eh, there are worse things I could do.
So, I don’t know. Is that how these updates are supposed to go? Seems boring to me, but what do I know?
Catch up on all the previous installments of So I Made A Movie: LUDLOW right here…presented to you in GLORIOUS DETAIL!
Can I get a WOW up in here? I realize that the cliffhanger ending of the last So I Made A Movie: LUDLOW installment has left you in such a worried state that you’ve been clutching your bosoms for months now, wondering if I ever tackled my computer issues and got Ludlow finished, right?
SHANNON LARK: I even know what happened, and I’m still clutching my bosom.
Well, I did. Pretty much. No longer intimidated by the massive, complex interface, I enlisted the help of things known as “books” and an editor friend known as “Brian” (actually that’s his real name, so ignore the quotation marks), and I quickly tackled the fuck out of Final Cut Express. Once I really got the gist of the way it works I started cruising along- then I discovered what the program can REALLY do and I started all over. As I mentioned, I’d only worked with iMovie in the past, and my options with that were extremely limited- basically, the footage you put in is what you’re stuck with, save a few crappy filters. If your footage stinks, your footage stinks and that’s that.
SHANNON LARK: Brian really is his name. I’m not so sure about this “book” thing she keeps referring to.
Knowing that, I shoot WITHOUT a “Well, I’ll just fix it in post…” mentality. I frame scenes the way I want them to look, I do the best I can with lighting, and so on. But given the possibilities with Final Cut, I can think about style in ways I’d never really considered. At the risk of sounding like Princess Jasmine, it’s a whole new fucking world. I mean, this raw footage…
…becomes something else entirely- something I never thought of while we were filming, because I didn’t know I could do stuff like this.
It all plays into the weird, dreamy aspects of Ludlow. It’s a small, silly, obvious thing, perhaps, but to me it’s quite righteous.
That said, it was a slow process. I worked each scene individually, concentrating solely on the visuals and matching cuts. With no color correction, no audio correction, no music, and nothing close to a complete film, I began to worry a bit about the finished product- especially since I was planning a screening of Ludlow in just a few weeks’ time. It was hard to get a feel of what the movie was going to be like; on June 5, less than three weeks until people were going to come to my house to watch the movie, I wrote: “Stricken with another onset of, ‘Oh my gahd, this totally fucking sucks.’ The comedy-horror comes so easily, but this is tough. Totally feeling discouraged, mostly because the first…oh, seven scenes are so friggin’ quiet. With no music and just a rough cut, it’s difficult to tell whether or not it’ll be…you know, boring. I’m starting to get to the action, though, and I’m feeling better. Still nervous.”
SHANNON LARK: She would call me up and tell me her woes, but I would always reply with “but you’re a badass Stacie, this movie is going to kick serious butt. Look at all we were able to accomplish in 2 days, Final Cut’s got nothin’ on you!” Etc. etc.
All I could do was plug away at it and talk to Shannon for encouragement. I’d send her screen caps or let her know what scene I was working on…Ludlow was filling up my brain, as it had for months. I love editing, so sitting in my little cave ‘round the clock working on the movie was a joy, although I was still unsure if it was any good, or whether I’d be able to finish it in time.
Though I try to do as much as I possibly can on my own in my movies, one thing I’m not capable of is creating music…despite the fact that I played a mean recorder in 7th grade. Since I cannot use the only songs I remember- the theme from M.A.S.H. and the Oscar Meyer Hot Dog Song- I need to turn to someone else who knows what he or she is doing. I had someone lined up to provide Ludlow with a soundtrack, but that someone…well, flaked out. No music, unreturned phone calls…my deadline was a little over a week away, and I had no fucking music.
I was seriously starting to freak out about that, when all of a sudden I received a magical email; basically, it said, “Hi, I like reading Final Girl and I’m a composer. If you ever need music for one of your films, I’d be happy to help.” That, my friends, is fucking kismet…and to my great relief, I discovered upon listening to his samples that this dude knows what the eff he’s doing. I took Mr. James Barry up on his offer faster than you can say “I took Mr. James Barry up on his offer”; as he’s a local, he came by one night and I showed him a rougher-than-rough cut of Ludlow. He took a copy with him on a DVD, and a few days later he had a score for me. A score. A SCORRRRRRE. He came over again and we dropped in some tracks and…mah lord, kids. It was amazing, and it made Ludlow feel like a real fucking movie. It was 100% fitting that it would all come together in this bizarre fashion- it simply wouldn’t be Ludlow if things weren’t effed up and weird, now, would it?
SHANNON LARK: I couldn’t believe that James pulled all that together in like…2 days. He must be made of superhuman stuff, with a big C on his chest. By the way, C is for Composer, get your mind out of the gutter. Sheesh!
I met my deadline. I had my screening (Shannon and I talked about that a bit in So I Made A Movie: VOYEUR), and Ludlow was pretty well-received. The comment I heard over and over again is that Shannon is terrific- yes folks, lo and behold, she can act! She’s really fucking good in this movie. I’m proud of her performance- she makes the movie, as far as I’m concerned- and I can’t wait for everyone in the whole wide world to see it. It’s amazing what’s possible when two girls who just met get drunk together and sign a napkin contract, yeah?
SHANNON LARK: Yeah!! They all said it was good, except for that main actress who can’t really act. But I was too wasted to hear any of that; I had a date with a curtain.
NEXT TIME: The end…and beyond!
Hmm. You know, I created this website in a futuristic blog-style format so I could keep it updated every minute with every detail of my scintillating and glamourous life, but now I see I haven’t updated it in over a month! This most likely means one of two things: 1) I’m a big lame, or 2) there’s nothing much to update.
Actually, there are some updates, but I don’t know…I feel all weird blah blah blahing about everything all over The Internet, and frankly being all me me me makes me feel even weirder. But, the site is here, so why not blah blah blah about me me me?
One of the best things about making these movie with Shannon- aside from , you know, making the movies- is that we usually manage to sneak in some little getaway trip after the shoot. When Voyeur wrapped, we camped for two days at Sasquatch Mountain, aka Sequoia National Park. A couple of weeks ago, after finishing up Ludlow and Lipstick, we went to Death muthafucking Valley for a few days…camping and exploring and alternating between freezing cold and unbearable heat. It was amazing.
So, I don’t know. I’m working on movies, writing as much as I can, and trying to finish inking a damn comic book I’m months behind on. In between all that, I eat pizza and watch the occasional movie. Things could be worse.
Alright, people, this is it. As you may well be aware because I won’t shut up about it, Ludlow is finished. It’s been slapped on a DVD and screened for some friends. In fact, I thought I’d reached a time when it would no longer rule my days and haunt my nights…and I’m sure you all thought you could just watch the fucking thing and be done with it, right? That’s nice, in theory, but…
See, the final cut of the film turned out to be a whopping 63 minutes. 63 MINUTES, a result that was rather unexpected, to say the least. After all, the script was only 20 pages.
Now, as you may notice, 63 minutes is quite close to the running time of a feature film, yes? And a wee too long a run time for a comfortable short, yes? Yes. Obviously, this only means one thing: I need to write some more, shoot some more, and make Ludlow longer. I need to expand the elastic waistband on the comfortable short(s) and make this into a feature, which will be easier to get into the grubby mitts of audiences. Stronger, faster, better!
Shannon Lark (ze star) will be back here in Los Angeles in early August. Once more, we’re going to truck out into the Mojave Desert and, barring any typical Ludlow-related shananigans, we’re gonna finish this puppy.

Here’s where you come in, o dear reader. We need to raise funds to complete our arduous task. Travel, lodging, FX, these all need to be covered, so we’re asking for donations.
Donate $10 and your name gets in the credits of the film. The person who donates the most by Friday, August 7th will also receive a 16″ x 20″ painting by me, subject matter of the donor’s choosing.
Yes, I feel a bit presumptuous offering up a painting by me as a “prize”, but I have no idea what else to offer. Check out my work here to see if that’s something you’d be into.
We don’t need much money, but we do need some. All proceeds will go towards the making of Ludlow- however, should we receive money over the amount we need to finish the film, it’ll go towards whatever’s next on our slate- and Shannon and I have a good four projects lined up to make together.
Any amount will help. Alright, frankly a penny won’t help that much, but I’ll still take it and give you my eternal gratitude in return.
Now, if you’re saying “That’s all fine and good, but you haven’t shown us crap beyond that teaser trailer. What am I getting myself into? I don’t even know what this movie is about!” Well, here’s what the skinny be, as best as I can tell ya…or Heidi at Pretty/Scary can tell ya, ’cause she told it just right:
Shot in the California desert in just a few days under grueling circumstances, Ludlow‘s plot involves a woman (Shannon Lark) stalked by her abusive ex boyfriend and aided by a well-meaning sister (Elissa Dowling) which quickly turns deadly.
There you go. And here’s a little clip. Oh, this shit is NSFW, but then so is Final Girl, so…
So. Give if you can, or is you want to, even if it’s only well-wishes. Repost this or link to it on your own website and spread the indie horror love. The movie-making flame BURNS!
I don’t know what the intent of this is- I just made it.
It’s very reminiscent of the poster for George Romero’s Dawn of the Dead, don’t you think? Totally unintentional, I swear!