All posts by Marsha Mellow

Bio of Marsha Mellow by Marsha Mellow I knew I wanted to be a famous writer from the time I was a little girl (my high school cheerleading career was never going to pan out). Originally I thought I'd write books but growing up in a conservative, gated community in Texas left me with NO creative ideas, so I chose corporate journalism. My daddy (I think he was an Exxon climatologist) made sure I got the finest education money could buy, although he seemed disappointed when I finished with a degree instead of a husband. My meteoric rise in journalism began as an unpaid intern at my hometown weekly, The Village Gossip, writing garden party reviews (very high brow stuff). From there I went to The Star Tribune where I won the 'perkiest obituary award' 6 years running. But I really hit it big at Newscorp, typing bottom-scroll news alerts on live cable T.V. I was a perfect fit at FOX...but that ended abruptly when my boss's wife objected to our afternoon "production meetings" at the Parkway Motel. Oh well, who cares about a silly bunch of torture, illegal wars and drone terrorism anyway? I spent the next seven years as a copy writer for the pharmaceutical industry, doing side-effects disclaimers for all the new drugs. My favorite was "...may cause anal discharge from the naval." Ooooh, but those were good times...doing god's work...with endless free samples... When a bizarre set of stories about Clowns piqued my curiosity, I saw a golden opportunity to do some REAL, Fox level, journalism and exploit the hell out of them. Clowns were an already marginalized population of simpletons...easy money. Of course, having to associating with 'those' freakish people was a little out of my comfort zone...and I ran into technical problems which forced me to partner with an 'artist' (the only creatures I loathe more than Clowns, Ugh!) but this was an important story and I expected it to bring me the fame and fortune I deserved. Ultimately, Clown stories don't measure up to celebrity sex scandals and outed congressmen in the mainstream news, so my work never went to press. A BOOK of Clowns, however, seemed a perfect consolation....and put me right back on track to fulfill my earliest childhood dreams. Coming soon, "Marsha Mellow's Blue-ish Freaks." Bio of John Allemand by Marsha Mellow A lot of people like John’s art…but he’s really not the sort that ‘respectable’ people should get to know. He’s been known to associate with circus people (Clowns!), has arguments with random body parts (spleens!) and has an ugly prejudice against sentient technology (robots!). He’s certainly not the type you’d “want to have a beer with” like George W. Bush. In utero, John had a conjoined twin brother attached at the buttocks but by the time he was born, his twin had been completely absorbed..…except for its tiny, powerful brain. Being the dullard of the two, John naturally deferred all of his higher thinking to his (lower) smarter brain. I often say that most of his best ideas come straight out of his ass. He was born in East Orange NJ, the youngest of 16 and despite a typical American public school education, he came away with a deep appreciation for diverse cultures and ideas - a freakish critical thinker…very disappointing. A few years later, however, he learned to suppress his personal integrity and craftsmanship as it made him a pariah among his peers and a liability to his clients. Lowering himself into the sleaze of corporate advertizing, he convinced himself it was all worth it ‘for the sake of the kids’ (which it wasn’t). John had a spectacular 30 year career in film & animation doing amazing work on some of the worst T.V. shows and dangerous commercials ever made. He was a master of selling useless crap to gullible people. When the corporate art industry collapsed under austerity, he retired to follow his passions. In Costa Rica he became a Free-Range Guacamole Rancher but something in the water caused a partial rebirth of his twin brother through his scrotum. In Kalamazoo his 'Shits and Giggles' Gourmet Taco Truck was a raging success until he sold it to a fellow with one leg named Willy when local Taco Mobsters made threats on his yet unnamed legs. In Weehawken, he became a live organ collector for Morty’s Door-to-Door Coffin Emporium...but was fired for sampling the merchandise. He caught the itch for art again in Flushing, as a happy-face painter at Herbies Corpus’ Human Taxidermy. He left to become a urinal cake decorator for Jakes Kakes in Coxsackie, New York (still giggles when he hears "Coxsackie"). When I finally tracked him down (milking bulls at the County Fair in Sheboygan) I offered him a job (and a hot shower) on the spot. Despite my personal dislike for his kind, real artists are hard to find now-a-days and he was my best and only hope for illustrating my extraordinary projects. It took some maneuvering but once I got him to sign my (clever) contract we set off, that very night, across America for a one month research road-trip…..and didn’t return for 10 years. What we discovered and documented in our search for Clowns, Freaks and Oddies is quite amazing.....but to learn more, you’ll have to buy my books. These days, John spends his time illustrating for me, desperately searching for a way out of our contract (ha ha ha!). He often dreams of becoming a spotted pink rhinoceros while his sharper twin brother plots to take over the world.

A Short Burst – Sequence

***A lot of friends have expressed an interest in the method we use to create our book illustrations, and frankly, often seem more impressed by the rougher sketches and designs.  They seem to make a more human connection with people.  This was the design process for the cover of our latest book, “A Short Burst”.  A version of it, very similar to the blue image, was published for a story in Analog Magazine in September, 2006.  The book is a clever collection of short, flash-fiction stories…illustrated.  You can find it and buy it at our Etsy shop, just go to etsy.com and search EEWbooks.  Thanks.   -Marsha

Pandora

Zig-Zag the Clown has a wonderful wife,                                                          the kindest, most generous partner for life.                                                She’s slender and lovely and cooks like a saint,                                            the perfect companion without a complaint…                                        Except when he comes home at quarter to four,                              smelling of booze and the funk of a whore!                                              That’s when Pandora, his wife, has a FIT!                                                    …and her perfect composure slips, just a bit.

***This rough drawing of Pandora is featured as a finished, full page, full color illustration in our book, “Bludgeon the Clown.”  Find it, filled with over 100 other illustrations (most of which you will NOT find here or anywhere online) at www.sallemander.com.   -Marsha

***I revised the image for this post to the final art, so only people who come to this blog can see it.  We only post a limited amount of art and material from each book (15-20%) so the people who buy them get the privilege of exclusive original material.  We’re not concerned about going a little over the limit here because hardly anybody visits and blogs are pretty much obsolete anyway.  -Marsha

Bludgeon the Clown

Bludgeon the Clown was shit-faced-stoned,                                                surly, loose and frisky,                                                                                              barely able to handle his car                                                                                      on crack cocaine and whiskey.                                                                    Bludgeon was stopped by the cops that night                                              and battered under arrest,                                                                                          for jerking too much as the tazers hit                                                                  and sobbing in fierce protest.

***Here is the original rough sketch for Bludgeon, published as a 2 page spread on page 28 & 29 of our first book, “Blue-ish Freaks.”  As John the illustrator always says, “It’s not art if it doesn’t piss somebody off!”…and this one definitely does.  Find this and the rest of our books at www.sallemander.com (follow the links).   -Marsha

The Buttox Brothers

The Buttox Brothers were unlucky chaps                                                      who answered to Rupert and Rory.                                                                  Don’t ask me how they got this way,                                                                    it’s a REALLY disgusting story…                                                                                  but wait ’till you hear how we got ’em apart.                                                      It was bloody …and smelly …and gory.

***This is the rough sketch for an illustration from our third book, “Bludgeon the Clown.”  Since shitty rough sketches seem to be working out so well, and will play an important part in our next book, here’s a step back to some cool older work.  If you ever want to see the final art for this sketch,  follow the links and buy the friggin’ book!  I only ever post about 15% of the art from any book project on social media so people who BUY my stuff get exclusive, original material.   -Marsha

Ice Pops

Pops was starting to get pretty old                                                                    and everyone loved the geezer,                                                                                so we poured him into a popsicle mold                                                              and kept him fresh in the freezer.

***My Mother was recently in the hospital for a surgery.  At 78, I guess she’s planning to resuscitate her waning modeling career.  The whole time she was there, she complained incessantly about how COLD her room was, and it WAS cold!  To shut her up, I finally had to explain that at her extreme old age, it was just refrigeration ….probably a malpractice liability thing.   -Marsha

Spindle the Clown

Spindle the Clown was really old, so he went to Miami for rest          but drank more vodka than he could hold and collapsed with a pain in his chest.

He died that night in his hotel suit but not before fouling his shorts and hurling his lunch from his chest to his feet in retching, heaving, snorts.

Nobody knew he was there, by chance, having very few friends, to be sure, and his room was paid for the month in advance with “DO NOT DISTURB!” on the door.

So his body sat in the heat to bloat and his organs turned to soup and flies laid eggs in his nose and throat and beetles infested his poop.

Rats and roaches came up through the shower, the odors were pungent and fresh and feasted on Spindle for 93 hours, stripping his bones of flesh.

When housekeeping finally entered the room, hardly a crumb remained. Spindle the Clown was completely gone, except for his creepy brain.

***We met Spindle the Clown a few years ago while researching death rituals among the Clown species.  We spent a week  documenting his demise – only to witness him defy death in the end.  Sadly, his brain grew up to be a corporate banker…..very tragic.  John insisted that we use this image for our first post (back in Oct., 2015) for some strange symbolism that only idiotic artists understand.  Spindle was featured in our first book, “Blue-ish Freaks” which you can follow the links to find and buy.       -Marsha

Boogey Man

Boogey Man Dan was alive and well                                                                        and couldn’t believe his good luck.                                                                      Up until now he lived up my nose                                                                      and was rather hopelessly stuck.                                                                      Now he’s stuck to my finger,                                                                                    like a glob of cold runny eggs.                                                                                    At least he got out in one solid piece                                                                    with all of his fingers and legs.                                                                              But what to do now?  Where should he go?                                                  His entire life lay ahead!                                                                                        …until I decided to knead him to bits                                                                and flick his corpse away…..dead.

***I’m travelling again and I’ve noticed that in every American airport there’s a special line for rich, rude, entitled people who pay loads of extra money so they can be first in line and feel important (I guess), even though we all get on the same plane, breathe the same air and arrive at the same time.  THEY get to be first, at the front, like the petty popular kids in grammar school…and I just have to  laugh at the silly people.  The last time I was in Moab, Ut., there was one such dignified, aristocratic fellow who spent the entire trip to Philadelphia picking his nose, which inspired me to write this little ditty on the plane.    -Marsha

 

Soft in the Head

Marshmallow Fred is soft in the head.                                                              He’s soft in the head, like I said.                                                                                  I thought he’d be kinda addled and dull,                                                         but seems quite witty instead.

His head is as soft as a marshmallow.                                                                   A marshmallow head – with jello!                                                                Squish it just so and PLIPP out an eye,                                                            like a whimsical marshmallow fellow.

***I don’t remember writing this drivel.  I don’t remember anything about the whole week when this was done!  Every time I mention it to John, the illustrator, he gets a funny look on his face, rolls his eyes, and shakes his head, refusing to talk about it…just pisses me right off.  What the hell happened?!?!?  Anyway, the publisher seems to like it – though she is a nasty drunk, so that might not count for much, but it’s all okay with me.    -Marsha

Baby Sitter

At first we thought all the babies blew up.                                                   We found them that way in the morning.                                             They’d suddenly grown to enormous size!                                                  We had no idea…no warning.

Well, people freaked out.  They lost their minds,                                   (and some of us got really drunk),                                                                     but didn’t take TOO long to understand,                                                    that THEY didn’t grow…..WE SHRUNK!!!

Body Piercing

They called it ‘Body Piercing.’  It was very rare, very risky…for both the acrobat and the victim.  Frisbee the Bouncer contemplated the origins of the maneuver he had just failed to properly execute.  Willy the Clown (the victim) was finally settling down a bit, allowing Frisbee some time to think: you see, audiences had gotten bored with traditional tumbling and acrobatics, even parkour had lost it’s charm…free-runners traversing buildings, flipping and spinning across rooftops and bridge rafters, bouncing about from car to car in midtown traffic…I mean, it’s not as if everybody could do it nowadays, but people got bored seeing it all the time.

New ideas evolved to shock and awe the masses, each more extreme, risky…deadly.  The ‘Tongue In Cheek’ was already banned in 17 states, the ‘Cockeyed Cock’ was responsible for 3 temporary deaths, 12 online divorces and 41 spontaneous abortions (in Tennessee alone)…then came ‘Body Piercing.’  It was like a grizzly car crash on the turnpike that you can’t help staring at.  Frisbee recalled that the most difficult part was the need to make an entrance (not what you’re thinking).  How does an acrobat bounce right through the center of an unsuspecting victim’s body (without using an existing entrance – or exit?).  Well, Frisbee was quite certain he had it all figured out…but…..well, look at the picture!

Willy the Clown went quickly from surprise to horror, screaming bloody murder for 30 minutes straight…now he was just pissed off at Frisbee, who kept mumbling, “That should have worked!…Why didn’t that work?” over and over and over.

Somebody call an ambulance…!?!

***I wrote this piece last week, sitting out in my new back yard, atop the loveliest snowdrift in the midnight sun, watching the flying reindeer dogfight overhead.  I’m so happy in my vacation house at the North Pole.  The image is a raw, red, rough sketch for my “Body-Oddies” book.  The publisher refuses to let us post any final artwork until the release date (tentatively May 1).  Meanwhile you can find our first 4 books for sale by following the links to my website or at our Etsy shop (search EEWbooks).  -Marsha