It started as a novel, and got more graphic.
Near the start, my partner on the project lost his father, and he rightly chose to focus on his family's health and well-being. I was left with two options, to either quit, or do the work. Every artist willing to talk to me turned it down, for fear of ending their career. So I clawed my way through something I'd never done before. Looking back, I'm not sure I ever had a choice.
It's beyond absurd, but the project cost us friends and work opportunities. We even felt we had to keep it a secret, with opinions and encouragement from only a few close pals. As a publisher, it was even a challenge to find a professional printer we could trust.
Still worth it.
I often say the book isn't a partisan pamphlet, and that the aim was to paint a picture I felt was missing from the Trump era, in the haze of petty rage.
If people are curious, I'll explain that generative tools were involved, a sin forbidden by many of the same people who insist the creative class isn’t allowed to portray Trump as anything but a power-mad fascist.
The AI discourse and the narrative about Donald Trump seem to share common themes: Passionate arguments over traditions, outsiders, and taste.