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.