Fresh Meat!

I don’t talk a lot my work as a member of the Diablo narrative team for Blizzard Entertainment. One of the chief reasons is that what the team works on is generally so secretive, and so far ahead of release, there’s just not much to talk about until something is out into the world. And, of course, there are carefully-orchestrated, large-budget promotional campaigns for Diablo releases, and Blizzard is less than enthused if someone gives away details.

I’m coming up on my five-year anniversary as part of the Diablo team – I’ll get an actual sword to commemorate the milestone – and it continues to be a great experience. Without getting into the details, I can say I feel well compensated, creatively satisfied, and showered with a wealth of perks. Great gig.

This past week, Season 12 of Diablo IV was released, giving players a chance to play as the legendary Butcher character. I was the narrative designer for the season, so I had a substantial hand in the story content and dialogue you hear.

Making a comic is usually a venture of four or five people. AAA video games are a different animal. For large-scale projects, there are literally hundreds of people working on all the aspects of the game, a large team all pulling on the oars in the same direction. The way I usually describe it is a comic feels like “mine” while a video game feels like “ours.” They’re both satisfying experiences, but in different ways.

I’m pleased with how Season 12 turned out, and with the reception it’s getting from the player community. I can’t tell you what I’m working on at present in the Diablo franchise, but I can tell you it’s pretty cool. Fresh meat, indeed.

College Daze

Last week I went back to my alma mater, Marist University in Poughkeepsie, NY, to speak to students about my experience in both video games and comics. Marist has a robust game design program, so turnout was great, and the session went quite a bit longer than planned.

In the years since I graduated, the Marist campus has transformed into a gorgeous space, with a great many new buildings nestled next to the Hudson River. I wish it looked like that when I went there. Maybe the aesthetics weren’t quite as pleasing during my college days, but things I learned at Marist – particularly the numerous Film and Art History classes I took – were hugely useful when I started writing comics a few years later.

Later in the day, I attended the opening reception in the Marist art gallery for an exhibition of art and artifacts gathered by Professor Moira Fitzgibbons for her upcoming book on comics in the Hudson Valley, “Drawn by the River.” I’ve spoken to Moira’s graphic novels class a few times in the last few years.

I’m in the book, so I was also in the exhibition. It’s a disconcerting thing to find your photo on the wall of an art gallery, accompanied by some kind words on an adjacent placard. The robust crowd almost overflowed the gallery space, and included Poughkeepsie fixtures Wendy and Richard Pini of “Elfquest” fame,

On the drive home from downstate, I decided to stop in Saugerties for a taste of my youth: specifically, Dallas Hot Wieners. I grew up in Kingston, the next town south from Saugerties. In high school, a weekly ritual for me and my friends was walking a couple blocks down Broadway from school to the hot wiener shop, where you could get two dogs, split an order of fries, and a cup of 7-Up for $2.50. That left you two quarters for Space Invaders or Asteroids in the arcade room in the back.

Not exactly a healthy food choice, but it’s the taste of being 16 all over again. Dallas Hot Wieners expanded in later years, adding shops in Lake Katrine (literally around the corner from the house where I grew up) and Saugerties. I stopped at the Saugerties shop, got two with everything and fries, and read a copy of the Daily Freeman newspaper while sitting at the counter. The Freeman, based in Kingston, is the newspaper where I started working the summer after my freshman year in college. I kept that job all through college and even for a year or so after I broke into comics. The newspaper job taught my hugely important lessons about writing and being a professional, stuff I still depend upon today. I was an 18-year-old kid learning from seasoned professionals, and it’s a debt I can never repay.

The edition of the Freeman I perused was much diminished from when I worked there; a scant eight pages to each section, hardly any advertising. Harsh proof that newspapers are dying, at least as a print product. But some of the bylines were the same as in my day, veteran reporters still plying their trade decades later. I’m not sure whether that’s heartening or sad. Maybe both.

Across the street from Dallas Hot Wieners in Saugerties is the Orpheum Theater, its newly refurbished neon marquee shining in the dusky evening. The Orpheum was one of the movie houses I haunted as a kid, especially for Saturday afternoon matinees. The Orpheum would bring back older films for 2 p.m. matinees on Saturday: monster movies, “Planet of the Apes” installments, Ray Harryhausen extravaganzas like the Sinbad films. As a kid, those movies were magical gateways as I sat in the dark, and certainly helped inspire me to do what I do.

It’s said you can’t go home again, and I think that’s largely true, because home, like everything else, changes. But you can at least visit, and glimpse the things that helped you become who you are.

Awakened Award

The comic I created for Albany Distilling Company’s Awakened Spirits vodka brand, along with friends Keith Browning, Buddy Beaudoin, and John Curtin, won a silver ADDY Award in the print advertising category from the local chapter of American Advertising Federation, which recognizes excellence in advertising design and print. Awakened Spirits #1 was also tabbed as a Judge’s Pick. Awakened Spirits now will move on to compete in regional and national contests.

You can order an autographed copy of Awakened Spirts #1 on this website:

https://www.ronmarz.com/product-page/awakened-spirits-comic-collab-w-albany-distilling

My Old Kentucky Home

At the end of this month I’ll be returning to the Lexington Comic and Toy Convention, Friday March 27 through Sunday March 29, at the Central Bank Center, next to Rupp Arena. My travel arrangements are getting me into Lexington too late on Thursday to attend preview night.

The Lexington show has quickly become one of my favorites. This is my third year in a row, something I usually don’t do at conventions. But the organizers and staff make it such a lovely experience, and the fans are so enthusiastic and generous (where else do they give you bottles of bourbon at the table?), it’s impossible to say no.

Recently announced: I’m also returning to Niagara Falls Comic Con in Canada on June 6 and 7. It’s a three-day show, but I’ll be there only Saturday and Sunday. I’ve been to Niagara Falls probably six or seven times since I was a kid, and I never tire of the epic majesty of the Falls. The town itself is a fun tourist mecca where you can take in one of the natural wonders of the world and then visit the carnival allure of a House of Frankenstein in the same afternoon.

More shows announced soon, including another international appearance.