The Truth Behind the Spread: Page 1 and 2

I played soccer from the age of 6 all the way until high school. I loved the sport and—not to brag—I was really good. I wasn't the fastest kid, but I had perseverance. I never gave up and loved to keep going. I was a high scoring half-back and a virtually impenetrable goalie. Seriously. My timing in net was excellent. But all of that changed once I entered High School. Suddenly, every kid was in shape but me. The goal posts were twice as big (or so they seemed), while I remained at only five foot six. I was a roly-poly hobbit of a kid who couldn't jump. And there ended my soccer career.

As for Bobby, he was my best friend in elementary school. And his last name wasn't Jansen. I don't think we ever played soccer together, but we hung out a lot. He was a fun kid with the biggest collection of movie monster models I've ever seen—and that was back in the 1970s. He had a very dark room filled wall to wall with everything from the Wolfman to Frankenstein to the Phantom of the Opera. It probably would have been disturbing to most people, he was only 8 or 9 around then, but it was incredibly awesome to me.

I wonder where he is now? Hopefully designing movie monsters like the late great Sam Winston.

The origin of Pages 7 and 8

Here is my original sketch layout for pages 7 and 8 (also included below) that I gave to Chris to draw and design.

The process kind of goes like this: I take what is written and edit it down for the book. Then I sketch out each picture I want. Then after I figure out how many I like and want on the page or spread, I sketch it as a layout and add the first lines of the text for each picture before giving it to Chris. And then I email him the text with notes saying panel one, panel two.... You get the idea. Sounds boring—and it is. It's tedious work at times. But then I get to see the end result and I'm astounded.

It's amazing what a designer can do with your ideas.

Click the pics for a BIGger view.



*



*

The Truth Behind the Poem

I wrote this poem years ago—before writing BIG-BONED. At one point I modified it to win some makeover-your-life prize from Men's Health magazine. If you've seen the way I dress, you'll realize I didn't win.

When I envisioned BIG-BONED as a movie (as I do for most of the things I write) I pictured the words spiraling from out of a dark abyss which, as the camera pulls back (at the last word), turns out to be the belly-button of Tim—who is standing anxiously on the soccer field in the opening dream sequence.

BIG-BONED 11-12

Click the pic for a BIGger Bone.

The truth behind the spread: back in high school—actually most of my young life—I was overweight. Near the tail-end of senior year, I was so distraught about my looks (of course I couldn't be sexier now) that I pleaded with my parents for their assistance. I was an emotional mess at that point. How could I not be? I was over 200 pounds at only 5 foot 6 inches tall.

That summer, with my parents' help, I lost over 30 pounds while working at McDs. I just said no to everything but salads, fat-free dressings, and diet cokes—at work, at home, on the road, wherever. It really did turn out to be easy. When I wasn't working, I was hanging out with my friends, going to the movies and playing sports. I kept busy. And I kept my face out of the fridge.


Also again, I've added this spread to the original post for continuity.

BIG-BONED 9-10

Click the pig for a bigger bone.


The truth behind the spread: In the 9th grade I had a crush on a girl who lived around the corner from me. We used to talk all the time and ride the bus together. She had an easy-going, extremely warm smile ... and I was smitten. So when it came time for the freshman dance, I mustered up the courage to ask her out.

She never spoke to me again.

BIG-BONED Pages 7 and 8

Click the pic for a BIGger view.


The truth behind the spread: I am not 285 pounds. Nor am I over six feet tall. And last I checked, I am not actually a marshmallow. However, from about the age of 12, I was given the nickname "meatball" by my "friends." When seen with my brother Chris, we were both known as Meatball Sr. and Meatball Jr.

Yeah ... kids suck.

About the word "WORK" at the top of the second page: I told Chris (Mori—not my brother) I wanted the word to feel heavy, gray and oppressive—like a concrete weight you couldn't lift off of you. We went through numerous fonts to try and get the feel we were going for. But we were never happy with the ones we chose—until this one. Though it doesn't represent what I was originally trying to convey, I think it looks a thousand times better and, instead of weight oppression, it gives the impression of chaos and frustration instead.

I've also added the spread to the first post (at the bottom) for those who want to read them in order.

The Second Spread vs. My Sketch

I have visions. And I can be very particular—as poor Chris came to learn. Sometimes my "vision" can benefit him and other times it can drive him up a wall.

As we got further and further into BIG-BONED, I became less specific on everything. Sometimes I would ask Chris to do this or that. And he'd say, "I can't."

My reply was often, "sure you can ... dazzle me."

His retort was always, "I hate you."

Here, a comparison of our second spread and my initial layout of those first two pages with copy notes:
Click the pics for BIGger views.


Page 1 sketch:



Page 2 sketch: