orneryjen

[orneryjen]

My Cafe Operandus webcomic is going at a snail's pace. But here's a Babushka with an Uzi while I'm working on Part 3 and polishing some old panels !

[orneryjen]

Fanart for the game Distraint 1 and 2

[orneryjen]

A toast

Kelly is from Battle Secretary

[orneryjen]

*Not for human consumption

[orneryjen]

Premise: Two scoundrels try to save an adult day care center by crashing into one of the biggest Christmas Parties in Las Vegas.

Part of the Route 15 story series.

I'm behind on my promised deadline and the party scene almost killed me. But this story is now complete! (Future drafts of this story will include prose clean-up and illustrations.)

Download here for the PDF

[orneryjen]

An excerpt. Download PDF here for the complete story.

ROUTE 15: NOEL a Short Christmas Tale by OrneryJen

Premise: Two scoundrels try to save an adult day care center by crashing into one of the biggest Christmas Parties in Las Vegas.

Disclaimer: THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. Names, characters, businesses, and incidents are either products of the author's work or used in a fictional manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Except Martin Shkreli. Fuck that guy.

------------------------

PREEMPTIVE

THE UNWANTED VISITOR.

There's always one at Christmas. The gold-mining ex. The entitled step-son. The nagging mother in-law. The meth cousin. Scrooge has his old bank partner Bob Marley. George Bailey had his guardian angel, Clarence. King Herod had the three wise asses.

As for me, my unwanted visitor was Danny Caspers.

He was a boyishly young scoundrel. A thief. A troublemaker. A thorn in my side. Danny had "art" and trickery was his game. He was a professional forger of Van Goghs. Picassos. Renoirs. He would hire foreign painters to hand-copy works of art that would infiltrate the fine art industry, right under the eyes of every international auction house and black market in the world. Today, approximately eight hundred million dollars’ worth of fabricated paintings has passed through his paws and right into the auction houses of Christie's and Sotherbys. As long as the paintings looked sexy, the rich were happy without a care.

His counterfeits soon pissed off some important stakeholders, including the Baltic Mob. So he bailed the art world, moved on to plan B, and tried a much liquid medium: Money. He tinkered with surplus press equipment he bought off Craigslist, formulated his secret dyes and ink and off he went making money. First Alexander Hamilton. Then Andrew Jackson. And finally Benjamin Franklin. He rolled hundred dollar bills hot off his rickety inkjet printer for several months. He was so good that the phony money infiltrated every underground casino in South Florida and Atlantic City.

Eventually, his counterfeits soon pissed off some other important people, including the Cuban Cartel. So he bailed the money-making world and vanished without a trace.

A year later, he came up with Plan C.

State regulations are fickle when regulating legal documents. Most forms are electronically generated these days. Tax returns, home loans, bank accounts to name a few. But there are more important documents technology can never replace.  Birth certificates. Ownership titles. Durable Power of Attorney. Living wills. There's a reason why digital copies won't do: civilization wants the real thing.

An original document of importance is marked for authenticity. A stamp of approval. An inky thumbprint. A signature from the original signer. But if the signer of those documents is incapacitated—either demented or dead—there's no way you can change or disproven what's already signed. And should a document that looks like, smells like, feels like a living will or trust, it’s difficult to dispute it when it magically appears. I assume Danny has already gotten away skimming a few inheritances; His choice of narcissistic gomers, rich estranged fathers, and miserable scrooges has been easy game.

Now that I told you about this menace, you ask: where do I come into the picture?

Well, buckle your seat-belts. This all happened in Vegas.

[orneryjen]

Outfit Redesign 1

[orneryjen]

I've been slow at drawing things, but here's a short story for Halloween. This is a work of fiction. Please do not try this at home.

Premise:

A doctor provides an unusual solution to a spousal abuse victim.

STEAK

I'm a registered nurse who works at the Emergency Room Unit of a busy level II trauma hospital in the Southwest. My typical shift starts at 1900 in the evening to 0700 in the morning and my typical "customers" are a motley sort:  "Homie" drop-offs (wounded gang members dumped right at the ER curb by their "friends") with gunshot wounds fixed with chest tubes and vacuums draining their lungs. Nursing home elderlies, neglected and festering deep in sores and feces. Frothy overdoses, mangled motor vehicle accidents, cardiac arrests, alcohol withdrawals, schizophrenic wig-outs, customer service complaints…you get it.

A bruised and nervous woman staggered into the ER. This wasn't the first time she showed up in the odd hours of the night. She would check with complaints of various sorts. A head bump. A twisted arm. A broken tooth. A stubbed toe. And on cue, her sobered husband would show up hours later demanding to see her. And once he was by her side he would hover on her every word. Coddle her. Taunt the staff. Raid the patient food fridge. Then he would demand they leave for home only for her to return a few evenings later.

It was a pitiful cycle of spousal abuse and we did everything we could to get her to press charges. We left post-it notes on her restroom door, dropped cues in our conversations with her, arranged numerous social services consults, gave her the addresses of women’s shelters, got the volunteer grandma give her the heart-to-heart talk, and even tried to isolate her from her husband. But she denied the signs, brushed off the police, and clung to her husband like a prince. And the more she kept coming back, the more pissed-off we became. Our hands were tied.

I was on shift when she came in with a chief complaint of a sore throat this time. Wide red bruises wrapped around her neck; the telltale signs of manual strangulation. Unlike her previous visits, Dr. O'Neill (a young female resident) decided to admit her in the hospital for a day or two.

The husband exploded. "The fuck she's not staying in here!"

"Strangulation to the neck causes throat swelling and an increased risk for suffocation. We'll be treating her with steroids and monitoring her should the swelling get worse."

"She's stupid and clumsy, yo! She fell and hit the counter. That's what she did!"

"That doesn't match the injuries to her neck."

"Bullshit, she's fine!"

Dr. Yuen, lead doctor of the ER, approached the couple and tapped Dr. O’Neill by the shoulder. "There's an old lady with a head lac in gurney five. I'll take over."

Dr. O’Neill sighed, shaken but relieved. She took the chart from his hands and marched to the next exam room. But not before shooting a sarcastic gaze: good luck with this one.

The lead doctor smiled at the couple and introduced himself with a chirpy voice. "I'm Dr. Yuen, I'll be taking over your wife's case." Dr. Yuen had recognized the wife numerous times but never treated her. Until now.

"Finally! A real doctor,” the husband scoffed.

Dr. Yuen held out a cup of water and some Tylenol. "First of all, you're cranky and I'm hearing you're having a headache. I want you to take this and get that taken care of."

The husband snatched them with a swig and a gulp.

"Now that I've introduced myself, can you tell me what's going on?"

"Yeah," the husband interjected. "She fell on the floor and her sweater got wrapped up in her neck. That bitch doctor wants to keep her here. I ain't paying bills for that."

The doctor stroked his beard for a moment. Then he turned to the silent wife. Her head was bowed under her hoodie.

"Is this true?"

She feebly nodded. Or tried to.

"I can't hear you."

"Yes," she said hoarsely.

"Oh good. You can talk."

"Yeah, cause she won't shut up," the husband berated her. "Next time, you listen exactly what I say, babe. Or this shit happens again."

"Why! You're exactly right!" Dr. Yuen chimed in. Then he sternly turned to the wife. "Listen closely. All of this can be avoided if you serve your husband what he wants. Just imagine the trouble you're putting your husband in! A good wife should stay put, keep the house tidy, and get him a whiskey and some nice juicy steak after a long day's work. Every single night. No exceptions."

"Ha! That's fucking right. You hear that? Babe. Every night," he boasted. "We can go, right?"

"Certainly. We can't legally hold you against her will. One of the nurses will hand your wife an AMA form. Have her sign and you'll be on your way. Here's your script for a steroid and throat spray you can take to any pharmacy."

"Awesome," he sneered.

On cue, I printed up the AMA form and script and headed to their gurney, only to find the husband exit the ER with his wife in tow and her medication scripts in the trash. I marched up to Dr. Yuen at his desk, fuming.

"Ornery?" he calmly noted the anger across my face.  

"'A good wife should stay put'. What kind of misogynist trash is that?"

"She's been here seven times. Patients like her, you give them what they want. Not what they need to hear."

"You gave her a death sentence! He'll kill her."

"We'll see," he shrugged, grabbing the next chart.

Weeks passed. Months passed. The wife never returned. I started to worry but the endless flood of patients each night kept me distracted. In time I forgot about her.

Then, I saw the woman return. I didn't recognize her at first. Gone was that delicate battered figure limply swathed in grey hoodies and sweatpants. She sat upright. She was primly dressed in hues of pastel. She had blush and lipstick on. Not a single red scratch or dark bruise was on her. She sat next to a gurney where an unconscious bloated man was covered in tubes and machines.

I overheard a conversation between his nurse and Dr. Yuen:

"32-year-old male alcoholic found unconscious and not breathing at home by his wife. Unknown down time. CPR was initiated on the field. ROSC achieved in 30 minutes. GCS 3. Hasn't moved at all."

"Any reflexes?" Dr. Yuen’s asked.

"Absent. Brain CT shows multiple infarcts. Ammonia level's 280. INR 9. Liver is toast. Probably going into DIC. His wife is over there. Says he's been taking Tylenol and Ibuprofen for headaches."

Holy shit. This was the husband! I stared at the unrecognizable patient. His grizzled face puffed, his skin yellowed, and he had a tight protruding belly, round and pregnant with fluid. He looked nothing like her husband except those half-naked chick tattoos laced across his arm. What was once a beefy, towering menace was nothing more than a pathetic sack of bloated flesh spread across the gurney

Dr. Yuen made his way to the gurney. "Ma'am, I'm Dr. Yuen. We've met before."

"I know," she shook his hand.

"There's no easy way to say this, but your husband has alcoholic hepatic encephalopathy and anoxic brain injury. We've placed him on life support to keep him alive but the damage to his brain is done. I'm sorry."

"Will he ever wake up?"

"I'm afraid not."

She tearfully shook her head. "Every dinner, I cook him steak and whiskey. He was so happy, he'd sleep it off. So I cooked him more."

"Every night?"

"Every meal," she nodded. She would go on to say how less angry he became. He was able to sleep more. There were less arguments, less beatings.  She had more freedom to clean the house, dress herself, go shopping, handle the bills, and cook meals. All while unknowingly poisoning her husband. With pills and steak and whiskey.

There was a long moment of silence between the two. Dr. Yuen patted her gently on the shoulder then walked away.

The wife later took him off life support and he died the next day. I never saw her again. Rumor has it she went through an epiphany. She sold the house. Went to college. Found a job. And married a better man.

To this day, she still cooks. Mostly dishes of lean chicken and a glass of fine wine. But steak and whiskey is her specialty, and she saves them for those special occasions.

- OrneryJen RN

[orneryjen]

CAFE OPERANDUS, Part 2.

(The NSFW part)

[orneryjen]

The First Several Panels to Cafe Operandus, a crazy short webcomic I'm working on that's getting me out of an art block for the past year.

This is a work in progress but at least I'm halfway done.

READ ALL OF PART 1

(safe for work)

[orneryjen]

First, it was the pastries.

Then, it was the pain.

[Cover Image for a project]

[orneryjen]

Night City Image Pack. Download here.

I'll be putting up some of my art resources on Gumroad intermittently that are free to download (Or for $ tips if you like). These are high resolution images that may come with a PSD file.

http://orneryjen.gumroad.com

[orneryjen]

City Pattern Pack for Clip Studio Paint + Bonus Images. Download here.

I'll be putting up some of my art resources on Gumroad intermittently that are free to download (Or for $ tips if you like). These are high resolution images that may come with a PSD file.

[orneryjen]

Stormy Skies Image Pack. Download here.

I'll be putting up some of my art resources on Gumroad intermittently that are free to download (Or for $ tips if you like). These are high resolution images that may come with a PSD file.

http://orneryjen.gumroad.com/

[orneryjen]

Blazing Skies Image Pack. Download here.

I'll be putting up some of my art resources on Gumroad intermittently that are free to download (Or for $ tips if you like). These are high resolution images that may come with a PSD file.

http://orneryjen.gumroad.com/

[orneryjen]

STUDENTS

For the OP and those in a similar situation, here's some tips.

1. Always save drafts from outline to completion to show work in progress. Make sure you write a date and time as well. Glass Onion has taught me the importance of saving your handwritten notes, even your cocktail napkin doodles!

2. Mispell a few words here and there. Unless you're trying to achieve 100% perfection (whyyyy?) or failing in class where every point matters, a mispelled word is indication of human error.

3. (Fiction) Have a heart to heart talk with the teacher about your inspirations about your story, where they originated, what authors inspire you (ahem, Mr. Gaiman). Throw in ideas of a "what if" sequel/prequel (even though you're not planning for one) and your teacher might realize that this isn't just a mere work of words only.

4. (Academic Papers) Always have your citations. Cite every dang sentence if you must. The more the better.

5. Go overboard with the word limit. This is a gamble: Your educator with their short free time will probably look at your paper, commend what a nutcase you are, and probably give you an A on effort - or - they will deduct points because you are a nutcase for using up their free short time that could have been wrapped up within the word limit.

5. Expand your vocabulary and equip yourself with a thesaurus. Use uncommon words where your prose doesn't sound AI generic. Of course as a kid, you're just flexing your writing chops, but this is how you develop your style and voice over time.

6. (Fiction) Use fragmented sentences, one sentence words, and a creative use of your uncommon punctuation marks to create a sense of rhythm in your prose. High fantasy dialogue can get away from breaking grammar rules. The elipsis, itallics, colon, semi-colon--These weapons should be sparingly used but when employed at the right place and time, its the chef's kiss. I don't see a lot of AI responses use such creative punctuation.

7. Avoid overused phrases i.e. "little did she know", "once upon a time", or "saves the day", "you won't get away with this!".

8. This isn't foolproof but using a robots.txt file can ward off AI crawlers from online content. (Websites)

__________

TEACHERS

As for teachers who are concerned with AI cheating, here's a couple strategies that may work against AI use.

1. Outline review - Students submit a handwritten outline for approval prior to a final draft.

2. Flipped Classroom Structure - (homework in the classroom, video lectures at home) might work for certain subjects and age levels.

3. Mandatory Vocabulary - force students to use a list of vocabulary words in their writing assignments.

3. Bloom's Taxonomy Pyramid: Revise your writing prompts for that higher level of learning. For example, instead of just asking a student to recall their summer vacation, ask them what they would have done the same or differently? Using self-analysis and what-if? scenarios creates that out-of-the-box thinking.

4. Rubric Requirements: (for highschool and above levels) you want to create a rubric that specifically outlines specific requirements of a written assignment.

5. Get rid of written paper assignments altogether. Why should students write a paper on the American Civil War when they can role-play as Abe Lincoln?

(* yarrr i'm typing this with my thumbs, ignore the mispells.)

Hello Mr. Gaiman,

I want to first thank you for all your work and extraordinary writing!!! I am asking a quick question that I hope you can help me with, if that's okay? Years and years ago...when I was 13 or so, I wanted to write more than anything in the world. So I did. But was accused of plagiarism by a very cruel English teacher. I quit writing after that abusive event and could never bring my courage back. What I am hoping you can help me with is this; How can I put that pain behind me? And how can I help my husband's students who come to him ( he is a librarian) who are facing teachers who falsely accuse their students of AI papers or plagiarism??? I gave up a deep love of writing out of fear ... I never want to see another child discouraged in that manner again... If you can't help, I understand, truly! But I fear for children who try very hard...and take that abuse....because it is devastating. Thank you for reading this message. I await all your next stories to come!!!

I’ve not yet forgiven a teacher for marking me down in my mock O levels in 1976 because my story was “too original which meant I must have copied it from somewhere”. In about 2008 I took the central idea and wrote an award winning story out of it.

I don’t know how to help the kids being falsely accused of plagiarism or AI use. I wish teachers would put together requests for the kinds of homework and projects that have to be person-created.

[orneryjen]

Update: I've been inactive for some time. Working on a personal project that's been taking a while to complete.

See here for progress. Best viewed on vertical displays.

https://www.orneryjen.com/cafe/comic.html

Bloody shenanigans warning.