Wesley Short is depressed. Meds don't work. He hasn't felt alive in years, meandering through life with a dead end job and few prospects. When he learns that his high school crush- or maybe, fascination- is in jail and suspected of murder, he decides to take the leap and cast himself as the victim in a gory love story.
Currently working on an animated short film adaptation of my novella. This blog is for sharing my art and discussing the project.
You can download the 20,000 word novella for free or PWYW here:
pain and love intertwine.
This story contains graphic violence, sexual themes, drug use, frank discussions of suicide and self harm, gore, and mental illness. Reader discretion advised.
In the days when the West was still wild, a spectre drove fear into the hearts of wicked men. He rode a horse blacker than midnight through towns from Eureka to Calgary, righting every ill he found along the way- yet he wore no badge. Like an angel of the Old Testament, he wrought his judgement with a righteous flame as cruel as any outlaw. Rarely did the law cross him, as no man could outshoot him.
Few knew the legend's name- but Ebenezer Osborne knew it well. He'd read the man's story a hundred odd times at least. The little green-bound book tucked into the pocket of his sack coat had been dogeared on every page and had its spine broken till the letters were hard to read. The Adventures of an Outlaw in the Rockies, written by Abel Wright. It had been a gift from his brother Adam so many years ago, and now it guided him inexorably towards his goal.
It had been hard to track down Abel Wright- maybe by choice. Eben had greased many palms and broken many promises to get here, high in the West Elk Mountains of Colorado, disembarking a stagecoach in the small mining town of Crosshollow. Little more than a church and a saloon, the was the type of town where the outlaw's greatest tales too place. Eben stood out like a horse in a dinner party. His diminutive frame and pallid, freckled skin marked him as a soft city boy, and the gold spectacles resting on his nose didn't help. He'd come into posession of a more appropriate hat in the past few days, black felt and wide-brimmed with a leather band, but under it his hair was nicely curled and slicked back with pomade. He'd never suvive in a place like this if it weren't for his father's money.
Striding through the packed-mud street to the saloon, Eben pulled a cigarette from his pocket. He was a nervous smoker. The place wasn't well attended at this time of day- a few miners leaned over the bar nursing whiskey and rum, and a few better dressed men sat around a game of cards by the door. Smoke wafted around the table. The room was silent but for the occasional clink of a glass and the scraping of coins againt the wooden table. Lighting up his cigarette and leaning over the shoulder of the nearest gambler, Eben observed their game. "Sirs, if I might interrupt, I'm in town looking for a fellow by the name of Abel Wright."
The men's eyes turned to the outsider. For a moment, all was quiet. A black gentleman across the table in a tweed suit and bowler plucked his pipe from between his lips and broke the pall. "You ain't looking for Abel Wright, kid, or else you don't know who you're looking for."
"I think I know who I'm after," Eben muttered over his cigarette, "and it sounds like you know where he is."
"That man's a devil," one of the older men volunteered in a gruff, hushed tone. "I heard he skins men and tans them into leather for his boots."
Another man added, "Shot a rustler between the eyes and left his head on his son's doorstep."
"When the folks he's hunting hide, he burns the whole building down and shoots 'em when they try to run." The gambler sneered at the outsider. "What's a city boy like you doing looking for a devil like that?"
Eben was stone-faced, unmoved by their gruesome stories. "My motives are my own, good sirs. If you can not tell me what I need to know, I'll be on my way."
As if they'd never been interrupted, the gentleman with the pipe forked a good portion of his coin into the center of the table and glanced around at his compatriates. The sneering man grimaced. His hand was apparently not even worth bluffing. Muttering a curse under his breath, he tossed his cards down and started collecting the meager sum he had left. Looking back up to Eben, the winner gave him an imperceptible smile. "Follow the path North of the church till it forks, and take the right path till you reach a wooden cabin far out into the aspens. You'll find your man."
Eben smiled. "Thank you, sir. I suppose I'll be on my way, then. And good luck to you gentlemen."
"Good luck to you too, kid," the loser spat. "You'll need it."
The words held little meaning to Eben. He knew what he was here for, and he knew what he was going to get. The opinions of men like this had no bearing. This was a God-given mission, and one that would bear its fruits in bloody fashion soon enough.
How I animate a simple looping shot for Re-Break. This type of thing is useful for quick establishing shots, only requiring one render of each character and background. Two repeats of this loop makes for a 1 second shot.
A work-in-progress shot showing my process for the mixed 2D/3D animation in my upcoming piece. The 3D models are animated and rendered in Blender, then I paint over each frame to create that shifting scribblevision look. Most of the facial animation is done on 4s to create a choppy feeling. Very little of the original hair model gets carried on to the final piece, while the eyes and shading of the face only get minor modifications. For the most part, backgrounds, figures, and props are all rendered separately and composited in the final project to allow as much reuse as possible- but it's still a whole lot of work.
big fan of romance horror. big fan of terrible people still being loved. big fan of bending morality and turning the grotesque into something beautiful.
