amalynneo.com
Lets' get linked:
  • About

Art from the uppers

4/2/2014

0 Comments

 
PictureCharacter: Demon, Age: 18, To the Company: The Enforcer
*NEWSFLASH*

Latest renderings sent from the creative group in charge of things I will never control (such as cover and promotional art and things they really should listen to me about). I was sent a couple character digital art pieces but this one was the closest...while simultaneously being the furthest from my imagination. It's just like being a mother strolling the mall, passing Abercrombie and Fitch and seeing your son in an larger than life androgynous shirtless ad plastered in the window. Um, yeah... awkward. 

Dear target market (ladies 15 to 25) what do you think of the art I've been sent? Feedback would be helpful. If you're wondering about the tone of the novel in question just reference posts with The Company tag or read the ad copy I was sent by the marketing team...


There were seven, and Langdon always pictured them lounging in shadows like lazy kings, two at the center of the fray with wilder, hungrier eyes, battling for the final say. Unhinged, nameless, unattached, they ruled from the alleys and smoke-filled drug dens, controlling the pulse of pleasure. And so, the very heartbeat of Nysius was run by teenage tycoons reveling in the shadows of the Eastern temple and smirking at the sins of the clergy. This was the Company, and even Langdon didn’t really know them, but goddess almighty, he wanted to be them. 

What I think--sardonically, I might add--about the art I have been given:

0 Comments

Story Boarding :D

8/18/2013

0 Comments

 
Picture
So, I have been nothing short of comatose this week with the sore throat from hell and a case of the summer woozies that have me reeling... anyhoo, I was able to make some progress with my graphic artist this week, all thanks to a few hours with a glue stick and pinterest. Observe the madness... never mind my shoes there in the upper right hand corner, I had to spread these out over my carpet. If you can believe it, there are four more. I know, it's crazy, but it's all for the sake of art! :D

Picture
PictureShantelaine LeCroir
I also drew a premature Shantelaine sketch. You haven't met her, don't be bewildered, previews for her will come eventually here. 

The best thing about gluing and picture is cutting is that it is mindless, and I've been so stuffed up and congested, frankly, it was about all I could manage to do the last two days. At any rate, I'm proud of my progress and excited to see what the artistic talents of Jeremy Grayson devise.

For those of you who are curious about the state of my fictional world, you can check out inspiring images on my pinterest page under all the boards labeled "Co." --short for The Company, of course. They may not make sense to you without context but at least they provide visual representations for the world I've formed.

Wishing you all a super Sunday!

-Ama 

0 Comments

Company Art Attempt

8/14/2013

0 Comments

 
PictureAllianora: Irritated. I love cartooning. I feel like I fail so much less.
I'm not the best artist in the world. I'm sure I've said this before, but I want to start this entry off with a disclaimer because what I am presenting to you is purely dabbling...

I've been working with a graphic artist for the upcoming Beta Read this month, and as he is a highly visual person I have done my best to provide him some aids to work off of... I have come up with the mess of art before you. His work will far eclipse all this, I assure you, but I thought I'd share. After sifting through a few tutorials and goofing with my sketch pad I finally came up with something very slap dash, but as close (with my limited abilities) to some of the characters as I could come. I'm a much better cartoonist, frankly.

I dabbled with some photoshop to give a few of these dimension, but I'm convinced I don't have a future in art. Anyway, there you have it, my Wednesday Waste of an Hour: 

Picture
Playing with photoshop and graphic pen.
Picture
Picture
Various versions of Allianora.
0 Comments

Beta Read Relaunch!! 9/2/13 IT IS HAPPENING! :D

8/12/2013

0 Comments

 
Picture
Many months ago I had promised many dear people that there would be a Beta Read for my upcoming novel, The Company, and I fell through on that promise. Family, health, and business got in the way, but I REFUSE to let that happen again. I want to apologize to all those who waited patiently and heard nothing from me, life threw me a few curve balls that I wasn't ready for, but guess what, I'm ready for YOU--and your feedback! I've been filling all the Beta Read packets this week to send off to you lovely, loyal readers. 

And so, I only think fair to give everyone a taste of what's to come...

Picture
The Deets:

The Company is a sci-fi/fantasy young adult novel regaling the lives of seven young smugglers, and one job that will alter the course of their futures and the backwoodsy world of Adhara. Recommended reader age range: 15+ --expect things like language, drug reference, innuendo, and humor that your mother would probably raise a brow at. The novel is approximately 110k in length and would love to have your red pen all over it!

Throughout the week I will be highlighting each of the members of The Company and some unlikely, pivotal, sidekicks on the official Company Blog: Inappropriate. Links will be available via twitter on launch day! Please follow me on Twitter, if you haven't :)


For details and to sign up for the totally on course Beta Read for Monday, September 2nd 2013, please visit the Official Company Page: http://www.amalynne.com/the-company.html

OR... to make it even easier, for those who are totally interested in Beta Reading stat, just fill out the form below, yerp, that's easier... why don't I ever think of these logical things *sigh*...

    Fill  me  out  to  beta -read  for  the  company:

Submit
0 Comments

Midnight City Walks

7/14/2013

0 Comments

 
PictureI call it "Allianora off the Page." Hand drawn and photoshop manipulated.
I'd like to talk about the usefulness of walks...

I take them often. When I can't sleep, when I can't think, when I'm restless, when I'm stuck... to feel like I'm moving, and with every step answers come. While we might not all live in areas fit for midnight walks, I do like them, but don't forget your pepper spray.

Allianora likes her walks, like her maker. She is a lass after my own heart ;)


**Excerpt from The Company - copyright Amalynne O.**


The City Walk:

Allianora was still groggy that afternoon as she slouched over her easel. She usually enjoyed art lessons out on the beach, the instructor was dismissive, and her fellow amateurs refreshingly silent as they slaved methodically over their canvases, but after last night's discoveries, Allianora's mind would not let her find solace. The sun was at an unmerciful position as it dipped into the horizon, it's golden light painting the waves with ribbons of blinding brightness. Her canvas looked nothing like the Midas-coated afternoon, it was, instead, a tornado of blotchy blues, like the rampage of a dream, sea and sky meeting in confusion. She hoped the instructor wouldn't come by to comment on the mess with his usual “interesting...” He already cast her funny looks for using her front skirt pockets to store her softened collection of smeary pastels, her little yellow dress streaked with the battle scars of a clumsy artist.

A yawn escaped her lips as she rubbed her bleary eyes, the creamy blue from her fingers smearing on her cheek. The exhaustion she felt went straight to her heart. She wanted to sleep, but she hadn't been able to. She'd turned herself off after Demon had left, turned out the lights to her chamber, slipped under her covers, and stared at the ceiling until daylight swelled about her room. She didn't move until noon, grumblings, soft grumblings had started to grow in her chest, a wounded monster sniffling to itself inside her.

She didn't even know how to feel, she needed time, she needed answers... she needed to take a walk... Allianora didn't even bother to remove her canvas and easel, she liked the idea of its enigmatic abandonment, pulling out the ribbon that held her messy braid in place and releasing it to the wind as she picked up her shoes and trudged, unnoticed, off the beach.



Allianora had never walked the streets so late, though she had always fantasized about crossing gently arching bridges at midnight and gazing into the canals to see the moons reflected in the rushing water. Her stroll this evening was more thoughtfully mournful than ever as she passed the rows of white townhouses off Temple Square, spindly gray trees coated in violet flowers lining the walk, their buds breaking off and taken away into the night by a lover breeze. Such a maddeningly perfect sham, all of it, the white wash, the sparkling windows, the facades worn at the surface. No doubt there was a hell behind these doors, families that hated each other as much as Allianora's own. Hate... no, it wasn't hate, Allianora stopped in the middle of the street between the houses, not hate, but betrayal.

Everything she thought she'd known about her brother had been challenged. She'd only known about him what she'd read, and deeper than anger was fear. A cold, bile-like feeling curdled up in her stomach at the thought of the tabloids ever pinning him right.

She'd ambled into a marketplace, street vendors since packed away, their carts and storefronts boarded up for the night. The trolleys had stopped running here for the day, she reads the signs fleetingly before she was halted by a glossy advertisement in the trolley stop hutch. In a light green suit, velor and perfectly tailored, lounged a dreamier version of her  brother, Langdon, than reality would ever permit. He sold himself more in the advert than he did the suit, the words “Hotel Marxame, Couture and Fitting House,” splashed regally below his perfect pose, the hazel green eyes vapid, the very thing he wanted the world to see.

Her mouth contorted as she started to swear at him, pummeling her palm hard against the billboard. She was so seething she was about to scream, what an idiot, how long did he think he could hide his black market secrets...? The night was starting to get chilly as she glared at him, thrusting her hands in her pockets to feel the remains of her melted pastels. She removed one broken red stick, rolling it in her fingers deviously as she looked up the advert...*


What would you do if you were Alli? I'd draw a uni-brow on the billboard.

0 Comments

Inappropriate - The Comely Blog is Coming!

7/6/2013

0 Comments

 
Picture











Yes, the beta read Comely blog is coming to amalynne.com, for weeks I've been working on content for this and I'm so excited to share it. Debut starts 7/15/13. As the beta has been delayed due to formalities with the publisher, I'm pleased to start sharing specific character content based on Company interests that are generally, refreshingly inappropriate. When I say "inappropriate," I'm mean in it in the best possible way. I don't write the blogs, the lads do, so you see, I'm at the mercy of my characters. (PG-15 warning) Please be aware content from The Company is intended for individuals over fifteen years of age due to sexual implication, drug use, language, and strong violence.


A taste of some Comeliness **Excerpt from The Company, Copyright Amalynne O.**

The Nysian Lofts were on the top floor a boutique hotel in the pretentious art district in the heart of the capital. Young people of money spent their evenings bathed under bright moonlight on the rooftop of the club, as the chill steely beats of the dance floor below resonated up into the night, swallowing them into illusions of superior pleasure. Washed from top to bottom in white, blue dreamy light sprouted out in pulses from the foggy glass walls, fading and flashing with the smooth cruising symphony of chords and disorienting beats.

“You know I agreed to this job because we’re almost broke, not because I wanted to play games,” Demon said to Langdon under his breath, drowning his words in the clear liquid of a long-stemmed martini glass. He brought his face back with a scowl, examining the lonely bobbing olive at the bottom perversely, as though it were an eyeball.

Langdon was leaning lazily against one of the white patio pillars, an empty martini glass held in his hands, his arms crossed loosely as he looked Demon over with a smirk, “It’s the not same quality as Purg, but they try … Look, I’m sorry,” he said, unlatching his ankles to stand tall with as much seriousness as he could muster, “But our employer checks out, despite what you think you don’t trust about him… I’m not saying you’re wrong, feelings are useful, you know… like I have a feeling that curvy little blond over there,” Langdon pointed past Demon, winking to the figure across the patio, “Will make me very happy by the end of this evening, and I have a feeling that after another,” he twiddled the martini glass in Demon’s face, “I’m going to have to piss, but until you have more than a ‘feeling’ about the boss man, you can’t really expect to pull everyone out of the job, especially if you really are… broke, that is.”

Demon’s jaw tightened, nodding, despite the irritation rumbling behind his calm eyes. Langdon was right and something about that peeved him.

“You know,” Langdon started off a little awkwardly, shrugging his slim shoulders, “Money’s not exactly a problem…”

“Don’t be stupid, Princy,” Demon cut him off, “Draining your little allowance isn’t going to help us. I’m talking real money, money you can blow like we always do…Besides, no matter what we make, it’ll be gone in four months anyway.”

“But this job would change everything,” Langdon uttered in half a whisper, “For all of us…”

Demon looked up stiffly, chest tight as he nodded quietly.

“In the meantime,” Langdon sighed, throwing an arm over Demon’s tense shoulders to steer him in the direction of a beckoning skinny-dipping trio in hot tub elevated at the center of the rooftop pool, “Try to enjoy yourself…”

Langdon missed Demon’s expression, one plastered with withering amusement, as he dislodged himself to lunge after a passing bar runner, snapping and pointing to his empty martini glass loudly, “Hey, Hey! Another one of these!”

Demon shook his head, dumping the remaining ounces of the foul tasting martini onto the glowing glass patio floor before he turned to make his leave… apparently there was a job to plan.*

0 Comments

Road Action

6/14/2013

0 Comments

 
Picture
In the spirit of sharing art, I thought I'd preview some of my own. I dabble with a little Photoshop myself, but I'm no pro. Presently I am working to create character profiles for the Beta Read coming up at the end of the month. I'm creating banners for each of the characters. and given some of the art for the character Deimos/Demon yesterday afternoon, I thought I'd share a vague snippet that I hope will merely fuel your own unique interpretations of the content. As I think I've said before, I'm a little eyes obsessed.

On a completely separate note: This morning I was writing a chase scene for one of my commissioned projects, and in turn flooded my ears with a little Beastie Boys, and went to Youtube for some creative inspiration. I was never a Star Trek fan, but the reboot is more palatable for an individual that loves the epic grandeur of sci-fi but not the nitty gritty tech focus (Star Trek < Star Wars), and I've enjoyed the recent sequel. Rolling with sci-fi, chase scenes, and millennial rock, I give you a little road action that inspires...

0 Comments

Neglectful Evils and Androgyny

6/13/2013

0 Comments

 
Stellar title, yes? No, oh well. I write half aware, here and on my actual work related projects (do not do this). So I have been neglecting my fan fiction readers and it is an atrocity, I also have been neglecting my editor, neither of which I am proud of. It is stupid to commit to too many projects at once. So, here's a shout out to all those who think I have forgotten them, I haven't and I'm getting to you, I promise, I promise... and don't hate me, and I'm punishing myself, I'm promise (no Arrested Development or Mojitos). I've decided to take five minutes and mind vomit on you. 

Now that we've covered me being neglectfully evil, I'd like to move onto something called Androgyny. I don't like it, man, I mean, honestly I don't really care if you're a he or a she or an it, but given current social protocols it helps to know. It would have helped to know especially when I was in the service industry and approached a guest with, "How are you doing today, ma--erm, sir--erm, friend?" You don't know how many times teenage boys foiled me with long hair, and I totally humiliated myself by calling them "sweetie" as they looked away from me... it had that condescending effect that made me look like a jerk and simultaneously made them aware of their confused sexual appeal--unpleasant for all parties involved. ANYWAY!! Sometimes I'm sent art, for fan fictions, for original fictions, by really wonderful people who read my work. I love seeing how what I've described comes to life visually, but at the same time I worry about the effect an image can have on readers. I was asked recently why I haven't shared most of the art.

I don't know about you, but I read all the Harry Potter books before I watched the movies, now if I'd watched the movies and then read the book, I would have envisioned the characters as they were in the film instead of what my own mind was able to concoct from Rowling's words. Point is, I enjoy letting the reader explore the world and characters for themselves, though at times I do gush over fan art. I bring up androgyny because it seems the feminine artistic default, and though I dearly love sharing what has been shared with me, when an individual sees an image, especially of a depicted character, it can often color the way they henceforth perceive the character when they read. And with all the kindness and love in my heart I have to say, ladies, boys don't look like girls--not usually. I am not the hottest artist, when I draw people they all look like women so I really can't say anything. 

With this in mind, I want to announce that I will be sharing original fan art, but for readers to note that each picture is an original depiction of the artist and not necessarily my perception. And that's fine, because I want you to see the world as vividly and uniquely as you see it. Please note, however, I'm never going to prance around with an "not-approved" stamp, because well, that's just uncool. 

Explanation over I can now share with you the art that so inspired the discussion. Original Art of the Day by M.Ira

**To be honest, I wish I could go in with a sharpie and draw angry eyebrows, because this character is not the least bit woeful or angsty, but everyone it totally at liberty to draw what they'd like. I love you M.Ira <3**


To highlight the androgyny discussion M.Ira has created the following. Her original drawing was done via stylis on a virtual interface and treated with various Photoshop filters. The first image below is roughly the original sketch with a texture filter, we note here that he still looks coarse:
Picture
Depction of Deimos from The Company by M.Ira (digital art and original sketch)
She later sent me an alternate version of the picture after it had been treated with a watercolor filter and softening details. He's lost a lot of weight and has that gaunt, sad look. Both images are amazing, but the image below hits androgyny on the head for me. It's lovely, lovelier than the first in fact, but it's interesting to note how the different Photoshop filters change the character of an image... Or in this instance, the character of the character.
Picture
Depiction of Deimos from The Company by M.Ira (Original Sketch, Photoshop treated)
What I do like about this piece below is the vagueness and freedom for open interpretation.Thank you everyone for your art <3
Picture
A piece sent to me after the Drowning Deimos post. Digital Photo Manipulation. Artist named as Anonymous4Evr
0 Comments

Eyes and Editing Evils

6/5/2013

0 Comments

 
PictureThe race of Mulephein Prior - original digital art creations.
I love eyes. I'm kind of obsessed with them when I write. Eyes say everything and nothing at the same time, answers mingled with mystery. I drown in the luminous vibrancy of eyes, consider the different fractals like shards of stained glass, mistily veiling the truth on the other side. Today I wrote about evil, a visible, impending sort, and the kind you can tell by the eyes. Much editing underway, and another preview for The Company. Enjoy: 

Trepidation in all it's human vulnerability rippled around the boys as hope winked out of existence, for two sets of gold fire grew closer from the shadows before them. Beastly, looming figures moved from obscurity into intimidating definition. The two beings were nearly seven feet tall, their statures broad and thick, clad in black as the darkness they emerged from. The skin was a misty ivory, an almost scabrous texture set taught over the strong, sharp angles of the face. What would have appeared human had been intentionally distorted. Their bodies were landscapes of deep, intricate scars, carved about in swirling ridges like mountains around translucent lakes of unmarred flesh; artful in it's atrocity, and refractive against the moonlight. The fire at the core of their eyes was blood that pulsed with every measured heartbeat, shrinking in and bursting out like little breaths against a golden lake. The silence was theirs, owning every inch of the night as they reveled in the terrifying glory of their true forms. This was a presence only a privilege to the dying. - Introductions to the Mulephein. 
A nice dramatic companion piece: Max Richter's Memory House... he gets me all goose-bumpy! <3
0 Comments

Drowning Deimos: Character Preview Piece

5/24/2013

0 Comments

 
PictureA 17 year-old Amalynne at the beach in Santa Barbara, CA.
Back when I had the body of an underfed twelve-year-old boy, sun tanned skinned, and the long wild hair of a free-spirited adolescent, I wrote about the beach and a home beneath the water. My passion for sun soaked days and salty sea air inspired a character that steered the course of the novel series that has been brewing in the back of my head since youth. 

I'd like to introduce you to Deimos, a key figure in The Company and a piece from my exclusive beta read sample. Our imperfections are beautiful things that should be rejoiced, and sometimes I miss the person that glared back in the picture to the left, because something was so raw about it. This is how I feel about Deimos:

It was a mindless tumble beneath the water, the waves undulating and kicking up foamy ribbons as Deimos let his body limply ride the current in. There was something pleasurable, easy about letting the sea take control sometimes, as though he could release the puppet strings on his own life for a moment and let go. A bright morning sun blinded him when he regained control of his limbs, pushing up through the curls of breaking water. The tide was ebbing back, the blue-green shoals called away from the crescent sandy bay. Some would have thought the water cold, a brisk chattering chill, but Deimos was accustomed, coveting the lonely beach. These were his moments, they had been as long as his memory had served him. The lads knew to leave him alone in the early hours. He could be cold, unresponsive and wait for you to leave. It was the kind of feeling as though you'd intruded on lovers and where therefore awkwardly forced to escape. He would often be asked what he thought about in his time alone, but only a shrug would suffice as he'd mutter, "nothing." This was true. He thought of nothing, felt nothing, because here he didn't have to... here he was at peace with nothing but the lingering smell of sea salt and the crashes of the waves, endlessly tumbling, moved by an invisible force. 

Sometimes he considered that he was jealous of things that were not burdened by choice, waves that lapped because they did, and for no other reason, lifeless things that moved without knowing. How strange it was to be born into this world with so much weighing on choice... and yet Deimos felt no part of the world at all, only part of the spec he had created with the Company. It was always hard to leave those mornings, push out of the water and damply traipse back onto the cool sand, because it meant that he had to choose. I'm sure you don't consider your days so thoughtfully as Deimos chose to. I'm sure, however, that he would have argued that you'd never known the cruelty of absolute freedom. After every morning on the bay, the weight of seven other lives laden his chest, and without questioning his purpose, would devote his mind to their survival. He was a machine of necessity, a sixteen-year-old statue with rigid rules for existence, and all he wanted at the end of the day was to survive, sustain. It wasn't simple by any measure and no one had charged him with the burden but himself, but not matter how easy things got over time, Deimos calculated, faced choice and decided. Drowning would be easy, but every morning he chose not to.*  


-First ever piece for the character Deimos/Demon written in my teens, can you taste the angst? 
Picture
Digital Art piece submit to me after a reader character description request.
0 Comments
<<Previous

    Categories

    All
    Digital Art
    Fan Fiction
    Marketing
    Music
    Original Fiction
    The Company
    Word Ninja

    Archives

    June 2015
    August 2014
    July 2014
    June 2014
    May 2014
    April 2014
    September 2013
    August 2013
    July 2013
    June 2013
    May 2013
    April 2013
    March 2013
    February 2013
    January 2013
    October 2012

    Picture

    Author

    I like crazy print pants, Thai food, making up words, and living in the worlds in my head. I also write on occasion. 

    RSS Feed

Powered by Create your own unique website with customizable templates.