When I finish one graphic book, new ideas crowd my imagination. I begin developing parts and pieces of each. Each seems nearly complete, ready to sketch; then the stories fall apart on the rocks of continuity, details, and believability. I pick through the stones and manage to salvage one. The other story bits I jot in my notebook. It’s a graveyard of dead story ideas. Once in awhile I revive one, but mostly I take a walk through that graveyard of ideas and have a moment of silence.