Back in the late 1980s I wrote a short story that eventually became the leadoff story for my first comic book, Cry for Dawn. The story revolved around a janitor at an abortion clinic, who’s so destitute that he supplements his diet with organic material scrounged from the clinic. And no, I’m not talking about stealing the receptionist’s chicken salad sandwich from the office fridge. I’m talking about fetuses.
The story, Kids Meal, was well-received. Kinda. By our readers, it got an overwhelmingly positive response. But from others? Like our first printer, Preney Press up in Canada? No-go. We sent up our proof and they sent us back the artwork and told us they wouldn’t print such a book. We found a printer on this side of the border (Port Printing), and, well, the rest is history. Cry for Dawn did very well. If you don’t count the printer rejecting our job, our Canadian distributor (Andromeda, I believe it was), returning our copies (although their 27 employees all kept one, so we got paid for those), and eventually, being banned in Canada when we tried to ship orders directly to comic shops desperate to get their hands on the sold-out title.
Fast-forward 23 years. Last week I’m reading some news online, and lo and behold, what do I come across, but the story of a retired Kansas doctor, Krishna Rajanna, who came to the attention of the Overland Park authorities when thousands of pages of confidential patient records were found ditched behind a grammar school. Seems the former doc, whose license was yanked back in 2005 by the Kansas Board of Healing Arts After receiving numerous fines (and multiple disciplinary actions) for uncleanliness, was himself an abortion doctor. And also, according to police reports, a bit of a cannibal.
Really? I’m not going there, right?
You bet I am. From the article:
(The officer) reports that, in sworn testimony he received from employees at the clinic, not only was Rajanna’s idea of equipment sterilization washing it with Clorox and throwing it into a dishwasher, but aborted fetuses were placed in Styrofoam cups next to TV dinners in the refrigerator AND several female witnesses report to have seen Rajanna microwave a fetus and stir it into his lunch.
Twenty-three years ago, my story got us rejected by one printing house, refused by our own distributor, and banned north of the border. Today? Just another story makin’ the news.
Guess I was just ahead of my time, huh?
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Want to keep tabs on the current creative endeavors of a guy who was writing groundbreaking splatterpunk stories back in the ‘80s (and continues to do so today)? Or just keep tabs because you have small children and would prefer not to live nearby? Well, then, Twitter and Facebook is the way to do it!
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Currently listening to: Quicksilver by The Cruxshadows