One thing I want to get clear with Jackie is that she is not as crazy or twisted as she initially seems to be. Through certain lenses, sure, but what she is doing is merely an extreme version of something most of us already do––hold onto the things that define us, even when those baubles are beyond use or utility. They become symbols of what the things, people, or events that they once were, but because certain things are rigid or static then we don’t toss them like we do balloons whose air has long escaped. But we hold onto battered ticket stubs and distressed t-shirts and say they’re important.

I said in an interview on the Serious Talk. Seriously. podcast that the world Long John takes place in is our world if everyone just went a little more crazy. I would add onto that here. It’s what the world would be if everyone also became a little more desperate and, dare I say, sentimental. To what ends will we not only protect our old things, but to what ends will we let these things take on aspects of who we think we are, personifying them with aspects of our very identities?

It’s Hellrider Jackie that takes this idea to its furthest end, beyond what any person would consider rational, but––like I said above––to an extent, it’s something we all do. Jackie fights our fight, perhaps too well.

The nice thing about comics is that we get to see how Jackie translates this personification literally. In the layouts, scripts, and notes, this point of view has always been called “Jackie Vision” and was one of the reasons why I wanted to bring Josh onboard for this story; his art is the perfect lens for Jackie Vision. We get a hint of it here, but much, much more is to come.

Josh’s Notes:

Being told that Jackie sees things different was interesting to me. I don’t know if the first two frames illustrate this well. After completing the page, I realized that I don’t have any kind of framing for the pictures. Drawing and staying confined to the “squares” doesn’t’ really appeal to me. I’ve been working each little pane as its own composition on the page, and the thought that each is neatly divided like a school lunch competes too much with how I want to draw these pages.

Art by Josh Tobey.

Uncolored art by Josh Tobey.