Breadcrumbs

Hello there, my much neglected readers! I've not written anything (on here) for a while. But hoo boy things are motoring along. I've got something I'd like to write about today. But first, a quick update on where my head's at:

In Production:

• PuddleJumpers Issue #1 - Clear Skies

Working On:

• PuddleJumpers - PROJECT Strange Fish
• PuddleJumpers Outline

Thinking About

• PROJECT - Tumult
• PROJECT - Overrun

The eagle-eyed amongst you might note that Clear Skies is no longer listed as a one-shot. That's because while we've been working on the issue I realised it actually serves as a nice lead-in to a larger story.

Linked to that is the moving of the PuddleJumpers outline up into working on. If I had a choice I would do no planning ever and completed stories would simply manifest in front of me completely sensible and coherent. But alas that is not the way, and so I must plan. I know where I want the first arc to end, and I know a couple of the beats that need to be in there, so it's just a case of linking everything together until they feel good.

We have 13 pages of inked and coloured art. Lettering is next on the agenda after a quick editorial pass to make sure the script still aligns nicely with what Vicky's done.

A sneak peek, you ask? Oh go on then.

Vicky's so good at these inset glances. I love them.

I'll share some more in a future post, but for today I wanted to write about something I saw on Bluesky:

This sounds post-apocalyptic, but aspiring filmmakers and writers really should find and collect DVD commentaries. So much applicable advice you’d never get in film school because it was discovered in the circumstances of making that movie. Big cultural step backward to lose easy access to these.

— Daniel Kibblesmith (@kibblesmith.com) 27 April 2025 at 06:28

This sent me off the deep end. As a kid, I was obsessed - obsessed I tell you - with the lord of the rings extended editions. I loved the films. That was what kicked it all off. I wanted to see more of the cool fights and the monsters and sweeping landscape shots. But what those extended dvd's did was instil a fascination with how the films were made.

I'm sure other people will have their own examples for this, but for me the special features for the lord of the rings are the gold standard. They documented not just the obsessive detail and profound effort being put into the creation of LOTR, but also the process. For the first time I, an enthusiastic but creatively directionless kid, could see what it looked like for people - a whole lot of people - to go about creative work.

And creative work of all kinds! Sculpting, writing, acting, digitising, sewing, making. I am perhaps over-romanticising it a little but at its core those dvd's showed me the kind of depth and focus it was possible to apply to a creative enterprise. And to make creativity a core part of your life. That clung to me, and instilled in me a feeling that creative work was collective work in a way that perhaps did not prepare me for the sometimes/often/frequent loneliness of writing prose.

Daniel's post highlighted how that has been lost to a lot of us. I'd forgotten that commentaries existed a little in past years until a - completely over the top - obsession with the quality of streamed television led to me picking up some bluerays to watch. And what did I find but that these commentaries still exist. They're still there offering insights and blueprints for people interested in the creative process, or just in being inspired by the work of others.

There's probably some crossover here between my love of newsletters that give an insight into people's creative process. The same for podcasts, and essays and vlogs on YouTube. I think these kinds of commentaries are important roadmaps for others that will come after us. I don't think these necessarily replace or supersede commentaries, though. There's something about creatives laying down some breadcrumbs as they go, and bundling it all up as a part of the package that I think is important. It's one of my favourite things in comics to get concept art and notes from the team at the end. I think it serves like a beckoning hand reaching out to the reader who's just been inspired or touched by what they've seen. Saying: 'Come on, let me show you how we did that.'

'Write what you know' is so often wheeled out as writing advice. I've always taken it to mean 'write what you understand.' What you can reference, even. Because references anchor us and give us confidence. When I started the first issue of PuddleJumpers I'm sure the confidence to get started came from books like that, and films, and podcasts. It's why I'm trying to document this whole experience as I go. Because by sharing these steps we make it easier for others to imagine their own.

So, if you're reading this. What would you like to know more? What do you have questions about? I might not have the answers, but if I do I'll see if I can't give a little insight of my own to help you along.

Alex.