I’ve always worked in a mix of words and pictures; it’s always been natural for me to draw a story, but to have a sprawling paragraph wrapped around it. Either that, or I start writing down an idea, but have to start making sketches in the margins to get the idea across.

I tried to get into comics in high school, but the well-intentioned man at the comics store gave me a copy of some JLA collection, pushing my discovery of comics off until I was 18 and in college in Boston, a city with at least two great comics shops – and comics shop workers who understand what it means when a young woman says, “I want something with great art, good characters, and well-written women.”

These days, I oscillate between pictures and prose and try to mix the two when I can. When I’m working in pure comics, my stories tend to be straight realistic fiction. When I go further toward prose, toward longer works, my stories get more and more fantastical, to the point of including spaceships, telekinesis, mythical creatures, morally dubious genetic engineering, and lasers. As I have no problem drawing spaceships, I’m not sure why the divide happens, but it usually does.

I have several stories in my head and sketchbooks at any one time, which are in various states of development. Here’s a quick rundown of what I’m working on:

Comic, likely title: Furlough. Comic set in an office, to my great surprise, as I find most office-based stories dull, condescending, or both. In a stage of advanced scripting, with copious sketches.

Novel, working title: City Kids. Science fiction set in a dystopian future (surprise!). Good bloodlines aren’t always a blessing. Currently in draft negative-point-five, with more than 62,000 words down as well as full notes. More science fiction than fantasy.

Zine, in progress: CCL Comics. (CCL = crazy cat lady.) A zine exploring how getting a cat introduced me to a subculture I’d only previously guessed at.

Zine, in consideration: Pink Elephants on Parade. It was suggested to me that I use my weirdly literate drunken state to write a zine. I’ve accepted the challenge. This is a great idea, because I get writerly when I drink – or, well, long-winded. Plus, I’ve long prided myself on the fact that I still type perfectly well and can spell when under the influence.

Novel, dormant, working title: The Afterlife. A draft of this is on file at my college, as an old version was my senior thesis for my BFA. Killing yourself isn’t the answer, because sometimes killing isn’t as final as you’d like. More fantasy than… well, anything else.

Other miscellaneous ideas floating around in the ethereal brainmeat: a bearded woman travels with her partner in crime in an altered version of the mid- to late-1800s United States. Two women love each other, but possibly not for very good reasons, and thus have a hard time getting anything resembling a relationship to work out. Then there’s a vampire story I started writing pre-Twilight that I won’t return to with any seriousness for some time because a lot of modern vampire-related pop culture makes me want to barf.