Tyler Gibb – Writer, Director, Editor, Filmmaker

The all-seeing arm of YouTube reached out to me recently to notify me of some comments being made on one of my cartoon shorts.

I felt compelled to weigh in:

chris86753091: this video is stupid i hope the persons how mad it die in a fiery and drowing death

kirikakirikakirika: It’s not like he physically hurt anyone. There are worse things than this video and what you’re wishing on the creator is 10 times worse than this.

And anyway, he’s rich now and living quite comfortably.

TylerGibb:  I’m rich now?

kirikakirikakirika: Aren’t you the one who created Boneland?

TylerGibb: I am. And if you’re referring to “rich” in the sense that I have a wealth of family and friends, then I suppose I can’t complain. And it’s true I live quite comfortably, but that’s just because I’m wearing pajamas.

Champagne for my real fans and real pain for my sham fans. Thanks for watching.

kirikakirikakirika: I meant rich as in money, though. My friend told me that the creator of Boneland made millions. Although, he likes to tell tall tales.

(My favourite part is the fiery and drowning death. The visual of this troglodytic illiterate, so vehemently riled by my idiotic animation, that he’s stumbling over his keyboard to comment is just magical. Here’s the cartoon in case you haven’t had the pleasure.)

Perhaps I shouldn’t have said anything. I like the notion that maybe there’s a Parallel Universe Tyler out there who actually did make millions with his Bizarro Boneland website. Even the idea that somewhere out there tall tales are being spun of my legendary wealth does give me a smile.

What happened to us, Internet? We used to be so tight.

I know, I know… It’s all this social networking. Things were cooler when the web was still anti-social.

*Sigh*

C’est la vie.

Well, I’m off to take a money bath.

Book 2 of my six book graphic novel, Mankind, is now available to download.

Mankind – The Book of Tash, delves into the terror of love torn apart by a zombieic plague that has ripped all the men of the world away from their women. 28 full colour pages of post-apocalyptic tension and anguish.

Download it:

.PDF version / .CBZ version

You are free and encouraged to re-post, circulate, reproduce or otherwise distribute these free digital downloads of the entire book. Support the book by spreading the infection.

Do I seriously only have one week left before the next book of Mankind?

No worries on this end for that deadline, the book’s all but ready to go. But jeez, that means I’ve got another deadline just over a month away… That may be tight.

Anyway, Book 2, as I said, is all but packaged and uploaded and Book 3 is well on its way. It’s the damn colouring that takes so long. Back to work for me and stay tuned: The Book of Tash will be here before you know it!

If I opened a bottle of champagne every time I finished writing a script I’d be an alcoholic.

Just faded out the latest. I’ve been calling it my blockbuster. In that, all I really mean is that it’s a “big” movie. Far too big – too expensive – to be considered realistically achievable on any indie level. Or Canadian level – that’s not a measure of quality, just a fact, settle down.

It’s not something I’m used to writing. And that may just be a good thing. They say you’ve got to dress for the job you want, not the job you have. This doesn’t apply to writers because we have neither fashion sense, nor money for clothes. So I say write for the job you want, not the job you have.

How do I look?

I was rolling along in my trusty wagon the other day, brainstorming.

Well, “brainstorming” makes my thought process sound more organized than it actually is. When I’m really keyed up about an idea – and I’m alone – I tend to get a little carried away.

I’m talking lip movement here. Maybe – maybe – sound effects. Kind of like watching a four year old playing with Lego except a 35 year old sitting at a red light making explosion sounds.

Then I realized something. I’ve been going astray recently. I’ve been writing one way. The right way. The correct way. Fifty pages into a script that calls for action and drama and pizazz and I’m writing it like a recipe book. It was all wrong. As soon as I got the wagon home I started re-writing.

This time I wrote it as if I was in the car. At that red light. Making the sound effects.

Fuck, that works so much better. That’s fun writing. And fun reading. That’s energy. That’s pizazz.

People who have a hard time with it, have often said to me “I can’t write. How do you write?” And I’ve always told them if you can talk, you can write. And I always meant it. But I guess it’s been a long time since I’ve taken that advice myself. No more.

Psssshhhhhhoooooo… Prrrgggghhhh!