The description for my book Blood and Drugs is misleading. When I wrote the book, I was in a different place mentally. I was crushed. My hand was barely operable and I couldn’t get a goddamn deal for my autobiographical comics no matter how much notoriety they had gained. Kmart Shoes was a good start, and I am forever grateful to the McGinty’s for taking a chance on me, but it wasn’t put out the way I had intended it. I painstakingly painted every small panel in the entire saga, and yet, because of cost concerns, I agreed to let the book be published in black and white. I also capitulated to adding the first part of Adults only to the end in order to ‘fatten up’ the page count. It is what it is. Those stories would eventually become the backbone of my Flop Sweat series. But I digress.
“Blood and Drugs is the story of people on the fringes of society…” begins the description. I felt, and still do, feel like an outcast to most of society. It’s because I’m fat, and my clothes don’t fit very well. Add baldness to that and a shaggy beard, and I’m merely a bad smell away from being a hobo. Thank God I wear a giant smile that cuts through most defenses, and a likeable charm that usually crushes the rest of the social armor. Of course, you have to get to the doorway to even knock, and most of time I can’t even get eye contact. Oh well. But now, in a different context, I see the book for what it really is: A story about addiction and recovery. And having the fortitude to follow through with one of the hardest things you will ever do in your life. And you know what? I think people get the message. Birdcage Bottom Books comic book publishing & distro