The comic book Razor was the brainchild of Everette Hartsoe and his vision of the independent “Bad Girl” era. Razor was first published under Fathom Press in 1991, but then under Hartsoe's own London Night Studio afterwards, and the dark, Crow-inspired styling seemed to have taken off. (Razor's chronology is quite complicated, as some awesome soul organized it into an excellent read here) By the time 1994 had rolled around, I was just being introduced to these indy titles like Razor, Lady Death, etc - but it wasn’t just about the comics or the dark illustrative art within that fed my collecting fever.

Razor was one of the early books to really exploit the “exclusives” and “variants” aspect of the 90s that we loved back then, and despise now. Early issues of Razor included a “zero issue” which was one of the first of this kind of numbering concept at the time, along with “tour editions” that were signed and limited - and of course, with Certificates of Authenticity. The chronology link above (and here) also shows all the crazy short print runs of variations of Razor.

Jim Balent, Tim Vigil and James O’Barr created covers for the first few issues, and a #2 that had different colored borders with differing print runs (and signed!). Platinum editions, convention specials, print portfolios soon followed - and while London Night Studios wasn’t the only one doing this, they were the ones who were seemingly having a lot of success at promoting it.

Especially when it came down to the local level where I was. Far and away from conventions, these exclusive indy books that never seemed to be showcased in Wizard were the talk amongst all of us who had X-Men in our regular pull orders, but we kept our eyes peeled to pick up one of these super hot books that usually got missed by comic shops doing their Diamond or Capital orders. A couple friends managed to make the pilgrimage to SDCC a few times back then would return with rarities that one could only pick up in a larger market. A book bought at SDCC for $10 would get $30-$40 without blinking back home in Montana, simply because we couldn’t get it. I was on the paying end of that many times.

But, let’s swing back - Everette Hartsoe had a unique and interesting marketing talent that I bought into in my younger years, and learned to respect as I got older. Being able to see that promotional angle before it became insanely oversaturated is a respectable talent.

By the year 2000, I’d been out of comics for a few years and doing my own art thing. I worked at an ad agency during the day, and ran my own art gallery featuring my work (Digital Art, which was popular in 2000 and wasn't met with derision like it was in the mid 2010s) in the evenings and weekends. I also did freelance graphic design work for low budget film producers from all over the place. Then one day, an email showed up from Everette Hartsoe looking for a designer to work with on his movie marketing projects.

Step 1: Receive a call or email - from someone who is more well-known than yourself - with the prospect of “partnering up” on a “sure-to-be-successful” project.

Let me tell you a tale of being an artist - this tale is universal. Every artist goes through this, and as the years go by - they start to learn how to identify these “projects” and just how much money you’ll make off of it. The amount being: Zero. But, for myself - having an unfulfilled desire to work in comics - this was an undertaking that would get me into the arena, even if it wasn’t technically comic books. I was intrigued.

He came at me with several movie projects - all featuring heroines - including one called Ms Tori, Demon Hunter - all of which had fairly ok premises given the sensibilities of the year 2000. He was passionate about them, and one of them featured his current girlfriend. Given that Hartsoe had continued on the filmmaking path for the next 20 years, these things I worked on must have been his first attempt and transitioning from comics to film. If you look at his IMDB today, his earliest credited film work was from 2009 - these projects were nine years previous, and there is no reference to them anywhere on the internet.

Switchblaze Entertainment logo I created for his "umbrella company" that covered his movie projects.

Looking back, I was super excited to be working with THE Everette Hartsoe. The guy who is like the Godfather of the Bad Girl era. What kind of insanely cool stuff is he going to do now?!? My mind was reeling at the potential - not monetary, mind you - the potential of creating unique work. This is what really got me going. Money is great, but man - cool projects are valuable to the creative soul.

Step 2: Fantasize about the accolades, opportunities, money and babes that will rain down on you upon completion of said project - especially because the creator is well-known!

We worked on several projects simultaneously. Movie posters, logo design, packaging ideas, promotional flyers - the whole gamut of stuff. And it was fun concept stuff on a genre I was interested in.

I was always surprised that Ms. Tori Demon Hunter never turned into a comic book - seemed right up his alley.

Promotional movie posters for the first two projects he was working on. The Strange Obsession poster featured his girlfriend and partner Chrissy (Christina) Mountjoy.

He had me rework the Razor logo as well, but I don't think it ever got used.

Step 3: Utilize the adrenaline to boost your brainpower and time to developing these projects, working hand-in-hand with the well-known individual, spending hours creating, drawing, developing and producing some really great work that you are proud of.

Looking back at the art and design, it was not as polished as my work had developed into - but I do recall how much fun I had working on it. This project came right before my first filmed-and-completed movie project (it was a low budget German horror movie called 'Demonum' by Andreas Schnaas), so Everette's films were my first foray into designing and marketing movie stuff. That was a very exciting time for me, as this was an area of graphic design I really wanted to break into - and I spent lots of time making sure everything was perfect, refined and well-thought out.

One evening, I got a phone call from a guy asking if I was doing work for Everette. Thinking this was a potential client, I talked with him a bit, but the conversation quickly turned sour for this guy - as he had claimed he had a professional run-in with Everette, and commenced with running him down, describing scenarios that sound all-too familiar to anyone who has worked on something that isn't going to pan out - and then feeling that dread of failure welling up deep inside you.

Step 4: Realize that the project you’ve poured your heart and soul into is going to explode all over the launch pad and never take off.

I can’t remember the details about why they never really got off the ground. This was also pre-social media, so generating “hype” didn’t work back then like it does now, so these projects, as far as I can tell, just went under the radar into Low Budget Movie Development Hell. I'd finished up the website, but for all it's cool Year 2000 design sensibilities, it didn't garner much interest at this point. Check it out here in all it's glory on the Internet Wayback Machine!

Believe it or not, this was cutting edge web design in 2000 - the only thing missing was a Flash-generated 'loading' icon.

At least I got my own page on the website for my contributions. Then I wasted it with a hilariously dorky "goth" photo. If I knew I was going to be bald a few years later, I would have shown off my hair better in the picture.

Despite the cryptic phone call and abandoned projects, I never actually held any ill will to Everette. Even back then, I had admired what he did for comics and was excited to participate in something new he was doing. I mean, the prospect of being part of something he created was enough to get me on board - simply because he was an Idea Machine. I remember being very disappointed once I realized all hope was lost on the project, but I never felt that I wasted my time. If anything, it gave me a few portfolio pieces to promote myself.

Off and on throughout the next 10 years, I’d drop him a line from time to time. I’d tell him we had worked on a project together to try and jostle his memory, and if he had anything he was working on he needed help with. Most of the time I wouldn’t get a response, but then one day in 2010 - I come home to find an email from Everette Hartsoe sitting in my inbox, waiting for me to open and see what's inside...

Step 5: Never give up! Never surrender!

I created a cover for the ‘Scars’ trade-paperback back in 2010. I thought we could work up something with a cosplay girl as Razor, but I think he was looking for something more mature - or less “Bad-Girly”, so we kept the female figure off the cover. He had a very specific idea about cover art, so I went with it. I think it may have gone unused.

The 'Scars' cover art - adequately executed, but dependent entirely on the viewer being familiar with the 'Razor' brand identity to connect with the book, pick it up and initiate a purchase. I think by 2010, that might have been an uphill battle - which may have been why it went unused.

And like my previous interactions, when he got the production file - he disappeared into the ether as mysteriously as he’d arrived.

I think I sent him one more email a year or two ago when I had some free time from the Diner, but never heard anything. Like the fanboy at a convention, the creator you meet probably doesn’t remember you years later, and that’s what stings - not because we’re mad, but because we all crave that connection of being remembered by people you look fondly upon. I’ve done my fair share of Pro Bono projects that went nowhere, but his projects I worked on were always the ones I really wanted to see go somewhere.

Step 6: Don’t let your expectations ruin your firsthand experiences, and just enjoy the ride.